storiesaplenty

[storiesaplenty]

Your Boss, Price (18+)

John Price x f/Reader

Call of Duty Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though.

Warnings: swearing. Unprotected sex. Oral (m receiving) cum swallowing

WC: 543

Gifs does not belong to me. 1st gif belongs to @collinnmckinley

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: Do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

This became a bit longer than I expected

Summary: Price owns a mechanic shop, & is in desperate need of a new front desk worker, so he put out an ad. He was not expecting you to show up at his shop. You get the job, but never expected to be so close to your boss, in more ways that one.

John Price, now retired from military service, owns a mechanic shop, Prices Auto Repair, where no one can match their price.

The previous front desk worker was fired, due to his pure incompetence.

Would constantly be messing up the schedule.

Wouldn't order the proper stuff, even if (and it was) spelled out for them.

Now John, who everyone called Price was an old-fashioned type of guy, meaning he placed an ad in the newspaper, which is how you came across his wanted ad.

You were desperate for a job, and not having any luck with anything online, you decided to check the newspaper and see if anyone was posting in there.

To your luck, the small ad catches your eye.

The pay seemed decent.

The hours were Monday to Friday, 9:00 AM - 5:00 PM, paid lunch, etc.

You called the number that was listed, and no one answered.

You tried few more times until you decided to just go to the shop.

"What can I do for you?" Came a gruff voice.

You turned around and saw an older man, wearing a hat, and I would say some unique facial hair, but it seemed to suit him.

"I saw the ad in the newspaper, and I tried to call."

He sighed as he looked at front counter.

"No one here to answer. That is why I put the ad in the paper."

Him and you had the short interview there, and he gave you the job.

◆

The guys, who you came to know as Gaz, Soap, and Ghost, seemed to take to you with ease.

You made sure to learn their breakfast orders, and would bring in breakfast for them once or twice a week, but there was one who you seemed to get close to, in more ways than one.

You have no idea how it started between you and John.

One second you were bringing him his tea, and the next thing you knew, the two of you were making out as he knocked everything off his desk.

The only reason you stopped was because someone knocked on his door.

You promised yourself that it wouldn't happen again until you found yourself alone with him.

Price had you bent over his desk, his hand covering your mouth as he fucked you from behind.

The edge of the desk digging into your skin, but you didn't care, not when he seemed to pull orgasm after orgasm from your body.

You would go back to your desk, with your boss's cum coating your inner thighs.

Or when you go on break, and you would find yourself under his desk, his cock sitting in your mouth as you leisurely sucked him off.

Even when one of the guys came in to talk to him, you didn't move your mouth as you gently moved your head back and forth.

The guys would barely be out of the room as John would let out a low grunt as he cums down your throat, and you eaglery swallow it, not wanting to miss a single drop.

You two thought you were being discreet, but all the guys knew.

They just didn't say anything as they have never seen their boss and friend so happy.

[storiesaplenty]

Oh kid, he thinks, his gaze straying to the window, watching the people pass by on street. You have no idea just how much worse I am.

Nah Pope, you are perfect just the way you are.

Shawnstown: Frappuccino - Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @akotafi @yousigned-upforthis @cowardlycandy @storiesaplenty

Summary: Pope makes a discovery about his business.

Companion piece to:

Chapter One: The Map That Leads To You - Freshly released from prison Pope decides to start his new life in honor of the woman he lost.

Chapter Two: The Crafty Fox - Three years after his release from prison Pope has made a home for himself in Shawnstown.

“We need to talk about the money you owe me.”

It’s the first thing Pope hears when he parks up outside the General Store, the toddler bed tucked safely underneath the tarp in the back of his truck. His head snaps towards the culprit, a dark haired tween wearing a vintage Powerpuff Girl t-shirt with eyes the color of bourbon. There’s a skateboard tucked underneath her arm and a brown leather satchel slung across her chest covered in patches from bands that are at least two decades older than her.

“Kid,” he says slamming the truck door closed behind him because it’s gotten a little stiff. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His gaze strays to the General Store beyond her and he frowns. Ray always has the door propped open in the summer because the place gets a little stuffy but today its closed, the white blinds still pulled down over the glass panel. He checks his watch.

9.15am.

It should be open by now. He doesn’t like change, his routines are in place for a reason, to keep his mind from becoming too cluttered with the sins from his past.

“I’m the reason that your business is doing so well.” The kid says interrupting his thoughts and he tips his head towards her, his dark eyebrows furrowing into a frown that makes the crease appear between them.

 “What? You mean by helping out at the General Store selling my stuff?”

“Sometimes.” She concedes, bobbing her head from side to side so her chin length dark hair swishes. “But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?” He responds and she rolls her eyes as if she’s talking to an idiot. Her hand lashes out grabbing his and he finds himself being led away from his truck and onto the pavement.

“This should be a proper business meeting with drinks and Wi-Fi.” She informs him, pulling open the door to the coffeeshop and yanking him inside.

“But I’ve got things to do-”

“The stores not open yet.” She points out ushering him into a seat by the window and he has no option but to comply.

What the fuck is happening? He asks himself staring at a menu that resembles the same kind of bullshit he used to see in Oceanside. Frappuccinos Macciatios, what the hell does any of it mean?

The kid holds out her hand expectantly and he takes his wallet out of his back pocket, putting a twenty dollar bill into her palm. She waltzes towards the counter with confidence of someone who has been here a thousand times before while he’s left sitting with his dick in the wind.

Already he can tell he can tell drawing attention. There’s a mom’s group in the corner who look away when he glares at them and a couple of elderly ladies who smile at him over their coffee. He ducks his head to avoid them because he doesn’t deserve that kindness.

He busies himself instead with taking in the aesthetic of the place. The tall windows with black colonial grids that filter in the light from outside. The exposed brickwork contrasts with the plush green plants that are tastefully placed around the room, giving it an almost garden like feel. Edison bulbs hang over the dark wood counter illuminating the black chalkboard fixed to the all behind it with a warm glow. He’s never been inside this place before but he finds himself liking the vibe.

He’s disrupted by the kid coming back, she bounces into the seat across from him, scattering his change across the table between them. He sighs, reaching for it, organising the coins in a neat row by size order before he returns them to his wallet.  

“Do you have OCD?” She asks him observing the behaviour and his cheeks colour. “A kid in my class does but his thing is more about symmetry, he draws these really intricate mandala designs that I help him cut out so he can stick them onto his folders.”

The way she says it, it’s as if it’s completely normal. Just another fact about a person, like he wears glasses or has freckles. It wasn’t like that for Pope growing up with his condition, it isn’t like that for him now as an adult. He knows he does weird shit but for the first time in a long time it doesn’t feel like weird shit, not by this kid’s standards.

A drink is set down in front of him and he stares at it unsure of what the hell he’s supposed to do with it. It’s a lilac coloured monstrosity with a whipped cream mountain and delicate flakes of white chocolate grated on top.

“You good here Ani?” The barista says, lingering at the edge of the table, her gaze flickering between the two of them. “You need me to call your aunt or Charlie?”

“Nope.” She tells her, shaking her head as she pulls a butterfly inspired computer tablet out of the satchel before swiping on the screen. The device lights up in her hands as she tilts it towards the barista so she can see. “Drew is helping me with my project for business club.”

Drew… that’s his name out here, the one Dylan picked for his new identity. It was close enough to Andrew that it wouldn’t jar so much when it rolled off the tongue. He remembers her straddling his lap before it all went to hell, her teeth nipping at that sensitive little spot beneath the hinge of his jaw as she whispered it against his skin.

“Oh I didn’t realise that was you.” The barista says, switching her focus to him. Something’s shifted now, he isn’t sure what but her finger starts to twirl with a strand of hair that’s escaped her ponytail, her body angling towards him. “I have one of your bird boxes at home, the one you painted with blue cornflowers. You must be exceptional with those hands of yours.”

She reaches out to touch him but he pulls them both off the table, tucking them into his lap instead. She bites her lower lip, her eyelashes fluttering as Ani rolls her eyes and says loudly. “Take a hint Sarah, he’s not interested.”

Pink erupts across her cheeks before she turns on her heel, retreating back to the counter. Pope stares after her dumbfounded because the kid, she has to be wrong. He’s not the type of man that women fawn all over.

He clears his throat hoping to dispel some of the tension as Ani scowls shaking her head.

“This kind of thing happens to Charlie all the time.” She tells him, picking up straw and depositing it into his drink. “My Aunt Em says it’s because there aren’t enough single men in this town.”

It’s the second time the aunt has been mentioned, he’s starting to get the impression that maybe the parents aren’t around which is probably why the kid’s out here harassing him at nine in the morning. She prods the drink towards him and his jaw sets as he stares down at it.

“I can’t drink this.” He tells her, pushing it back towards her. “It’s probably got all sorts of chemical shit in it-”

Ani pushes it back.

“It’s all locally sourced, milk and cream from the local dairies, chocolate from Bonnie’s across the street. The lavender comes from Aubrey’s farm. You should try it, it might chill you out a little.”

Aubrey, his mind fixes on the name as he bends his head to capture the straw in his mouth. He didn’t know she had a lavender farm, he just thought she helped her dad out at the General Store and ran around dealing with his shit.

An explosion of taste erupts on his tongue, honey but more floral with a smidge of vanilla. He can’t remember the last time he tasted something so rich and sweet. He sips again his eyes flicking upwards to see Ani watching him with a grin on her impish features.

“Aren’t you a little young for business club?” He finds himself saying as he uses the straw to prod some of the cream into the drink. “Shouldn’t you be spending your summer skateboarding in the park or something?”

“That’s after business club, and I need to get a head start if I want Aunt Em to let me help with the distillery.” She informs him before swiping her finger on the tablet. “As part of the club we’re supposed to pick a local business to shadow. She wouldn’t let me use ours because I’m still a kid and apparently it’s illegal so I chose yours instead because there was room for a lot of improvement...”

He frowns as he stares down at the screen in front of him. It’s an Instagram account called Mountain Man Makes… The red and white logo is a simple faceless lumberjack with his curls and plaid shirt with an axe sticking out from the side.

He takes the tablet from her hand and scrolls through the posts. All of them are images of his products in the wild. Birds flitting in and out of bird boxes, a stable he made for a little girl last year, the My Little Ponies sitting around a handcrafted table having a tea party. He clicks on a video and it’s a blond haired kid waving around one of the fox toys he modelled after Franco, his mom telling the audience how much he loves playing with Mr Fox. His eyes sting as he takes it in, because after all the heinous shit he’s done in his life he’s finally bringing some joy back into the world.

“I think it’s only fair since I’ve been doing the photography, the videos and the marketing that I get a cut from the sales.” Ani tells him when the video ends. Pope swallows past the ache in his chest, the back of his hand chasing across his eyes.

“What are you suggesting?” He asks, his voice raw as he hands the tablet back to her.

“You pay me a fixed fee per month to manage your social media with backpay for the last month. I’m thinking…” She writes down a figure on a receipt for the drinks and slides it across the table to him. He picks it up scrutinizing the amount.

It isn’t much compared to the work she’s been doing and honestly he doesn’t need the money. He still has half a mil stashed underneath the floorboards back in the cabin. The proceeds from the business usually end up being deposited into the foodbank tin at the General Store. He doesn’t give shit about the cash, he just wants to keep creating things that make other people happy.

“I’ll need to talk to your Aunt.” He tells Ani as he folds up the receipt and tucks it into the pocket of his jacket. “Make sure it’s ok with her.”

Ani pulls a face and Pope gives her a sardonic look.  

“I’m serious.” He says firmly, his elbows coming to rest on the table as he leans forward. “I can’t just hand over money to a kid, people think I’m weird enough as it is and I need to make sure that you’re not spending it on something that you shouldn’t be.”

His thoughts flit back to Julia, to the shit she was doing at twelve years old. He can’t be responsible for something like that. He won’t be responsible for that.

“Fine.” Ani mutters, slumping back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “But she’s gonna give us both a lecture.”

“It’s good that you have someone who cares about you like that.” He tells her honestly, finishing off his own Frappuccino. “My sister and I, we didn’t have that, it kinda messed us both up.”

“You don’t seem too bad.” Ani remarks picking up her drink and tipping it so she can suck up the final dregs. The noise cuts the air as she hoovers up the whipped cream at the bottom. “You could have turned out worse.”

Oh kid, he thinks, his gaze straying to the window, watching the people pass by on street. You have no idea just how much worse I am.

Love Pope? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the Shawnstown taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

Cold Brew: John Shen x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @miraclesabound @cannonindeez @nommingonfood @yousigned-upforthis

Summary: You and John finally find time for a conversation.

Companion piece to:

Ashes - You take revenge on the first man your parents sold you to.

The Choice - In the wake of his brother’s suicide John goes against his parents’ wishes and makes a choice about his residency.

You Should See Me In A Crown - A chance encounter sparks the beginning of something special for John.

Dick Pics - You and John discuss your dating life in the ambulance bay during a rare shift break.

Brunch - John refuses to give up when you miss brunch with him.

Silly Little Boys (NSFW) - John's not like the other men you've been with.

In The Summer - You discover John's secret.

Tiger, Tiger - John reveals the truth between his engagement and his history.

Jack - John's mother opens up old wounds by giving John a copy of your DCFS file.

Bare (NSFW) - John and you commit to each other in a special way.

The Shirt - Jack realises that you're wearing a boyfriend shirt.

Tradition - Mrs Shen makes a decision regarding the wedding.

Daywalker - You and John discuss something that could cause a big change in your relationship.

The Wedding Gift - John’s dad brings out the worst in him.

Pandora’s Box - John realises he’s opened up Pandora’s Box when his brother pays a visit.

Fucked Up - You take care of John when he starts to have doubts.

His Fucked Up Wang - John’s forced to treat your ex when he’s rolled into the ED.

The Other Man - John discovers something that may effect your future together.

Princess Cut - You find something unexpected inside John’s sock drawer.

The Broken Girl - The best night of your life turns into one of the worst when your plans are disrupted.

The Rooftop - John and Jack finally talk about what happened at the party.

My Love Always - A simple card makes you reach out to one of the most important people in your life.

There’s a coffee on the table.

A cold brew to be precise.

It’s sits in the centre of the breakroom, John’s name written on a small folded piece of white paper propped up in front of it. The edges of his mouth tip up into a small smile as he picks it up, his thumb tracing over your handwriting.

The two of you have been trying to catch up over the past few days, talk things out face to face. The problem is with you working the day shift and him on nights you haven’t been able to coordinate a time to make it happen. At this point he’s ready to turn up at the fire station and have the conversation in the turn out room if he has to.

He sighs, grasping the cold brew, sipping from the straw as he escorts it outside to the ambulance bay where he still takes his breaks. He knows it’s dumb but he enjoys the familiarity of the place, the proximity to what the two of you used to have before it got all screwed up.

He can’t believe his eyes when he sees you sitting there on that wall. The coffee cup slips from his hand, hitting the pavement and spattering cool liquid up the front of his scrubs.

“Fuck.” He says and you turn your head towards him, your mouth hanging open as you take in the soaked fabric.

You’re already on your feet striding towards him before he can even begin to consider how to deal with the mess. “What on earth…”

“I saw you and I...” He gestures at the plastic coffee cup rolling around by his feet. “I’m just surprised to find you out here.”

“I was trying to get the courage to come back in.” You say softy, clasping your hands in front of you. The engagement ring flashes in the overhead lights and John can’t express how much it means to him that you’re still wearing it. “It turns out I’m kinda scared of how this conversation is going to go.”

He reaches out, taking your hand in his, his thumb tracing over the token of his love.

“Nothing’s changed.” He assures you, his onyx gaze capturing yours. “I’m still as in love with you as I’ve always been, I just didn’t want you to regret marrying me. Jack is so important to you-”

“You’re important to me too.” You whisper, squeezing his fingers. “The way I acted, it wasn’t really about you or Jack. It was about me sabotaging myself because I didn’t feel like I deserved to be so happy. I’m in therapy now, I’m doing the work. I just… I know I fucked things up for us-”

“You didn’t.” John promises you. “You needed to take a breather Cici, and that’s what you did. I don’t blame you for that. I just hope we can move on it, maybe enjoy being engaged for a while if that is something you still want.”

“I do want that.” You tell him, releasing his hands so you can wrap your arms around his waist. The coffee starts to soak through into your clothes but you don’t care because John’s drawing you closer, gathering you to him as if you never left.

“Good.” John murmurs, his lips brushing over your temple. “Because I want that too.”

Love John? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

“I should have let her take those pills.” He whispers into the air. “I should have let her go out the way she wanted.”

The Morning After: Jesse Van Horn x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @rueful-witch @daydreamsareallineed @julius-ceasar @cannonindeez

Summary: Jesse is forced to live with the consquences of his actions the night after the party.

Companion piece to:

Rebel Girl - You tell Jesse your story that first night at Glastonbury.

Whiskey Kiss (NSFW) - Jesse favourite things are the taste of whiskey and you.

Prince Albert (NSFW) - Jesse knows exactly what to do with his extra equipment.

Geordie - Jesse makes one hell of a statement when your ex-boyfriend comes around.

Mixed Tape - Jesse makes you a mixed tape before he leaves for the US.

The Green Card - A visa issue complicates your relationship with Jesse.

Summer In California - Jesse refuses to eye-fuck another woman for the sake of a music video.

Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll - Jesse tries to convince you not to disrupt your trip during the aftermath of Pittfest.

Song 2 (NSFW) - Jesse tries to chase away his demons the only way he knows how.

Atomic - Jesse reflects on his HIV status.

Blood Orange - Jesse comes to the rescue of your neighbour during an autoerotic asphyxation accident.

A Lifetime With You - You discover won’t be getting that lifetime after all.

A Dying Woman - You and Jesse have very different reactions to the news of your heart failure. -

The Last Hurrah - Jesse makes a realisation about the party…

This isn’t the first time that Jesse has been in a jail cell.

It’s not even the first time he’s had split knuckles, or another man’s blood smeared across the ring he wears on his finger to honour you.

But it is the first time you haven’t bailed him out.

Instead it’s Faye he sees standing in the waiting area of the police station, her hair is tied up in a messy bun, her eyes red rimmed like she hasn’t slept most of the night. She looks how he feels, empty, exhausted, worn out.

“How is she?” He asks quietly rubbing his palm against the stubble that lines his jaw.

He’s still wearing his suit from the party, the jacket is folded over his left arm, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The vest clings to his chest like a strait jack, constricting every single one of his breaths. He wants to tear the damn thing off and throw it in a fire because it’s the physical embodiment of the worst night of his life.

“Resting.” Faye responds as she delves into her purse, retrieving a bottle of water and Jesse’s HIV medication. He takes them from her, swallowing them down before tucking the pill packet into his trouser pocket. “The cardiologist says she can go home in a few days but any physical exertion, it’ll exhaust her from now on.”

Your heart failure has transitioned to Stage 3, meaning that you’ll be spending the majority of the days you have left on bedrest. Those walks in the park you enjoy, the silly dances you pull him into, they’re a thing of the past now.

It was Jesse that did that to you, that sent your quality of life spiralling down the drain. All because he lost his shit with Gunter over the pills. He couldn’t help it, the instant he’d heard that keycard in the hotel room door, he’d known the other man was coming to say his final goodbye, the one that he had helped orchestrate.

That mist had descended then, like a crimson spray across his vision. Every single instinct inside of him bayed for that man’s blood. He wanted to rip him apart with his bare hands, to tear him limb from limb. He’d got two punches in before Gunter retaliated, resulting in them spilling into the hallway. They were like animals going at each other, kicking, screaming, scratching until you’d got in between them trying to pull them apart.

The exertion of that with your already weakened heart… it was just too much.

All the fight had died out of them when you collapsed. They’d worked together to treat you the best they could until the ambulance arrived, along with the police the other guests had called. Jesse had been arrested on the spot because Gunter looked like a horror show, blood dripping from his broken nose onto that crisp white shirt.

“And him?” he asks, his fist flexing again impulsively.

“Jack put him on the first plane back to Germany this morning.” Faye informs him, tucking her hands into her caramel overcoat. “He wanted to stick around until she woke up but I reminded him it would get very tricky if I told the cops the real reason you were fighting.”

Transporting Pentobarbital into the country, trying to assist a suicide. They’d lock the asshole up and throw away the key but Jesse knows this isn’t on him, that he was just doing as you requested because you couldn’t face the idea of this long drawn out death you’re now facing.

“I fucked this up so badly Faye.” Jesse says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “I should have just let her do it…”

“You weren’t ready to let her go.” Faye says quietly as she leans against the wall beside him, taking a pack of cigarettes out of her purse before she opens it and offers him one. “Truth is neither was I but I couldn’t deny her wishes either. I was supposed to stop you that night, from going up to the room but I couldn’t…”

She trails off as she lights up the cigarette between her lips before igniting his. “I won’t ask you for forgiveness-”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Jesse says taking a drag of his cigarette, the nicotine fills his lungs a small burst of relief amongst the anguish he’s feeling. “That woman she’s a force of nature…”

He chokes on the words because the thing about acts of God, they disappear just as quickly as they arrive. You’d come into his life without any warning, irreparably changing it and now you’re dying and so is he deep down inside. He won’t be the same without you, he’s not even sure he’ll survive without you.

“We just have to deal with the hand we’ve been dealt, make the most of the time we have left with her.” He says, his eyes stinging and his hands trembling as he takes another puff of the cigarette.

He doesn’t think it’ll be that long. The inability to do the things you used to take pleasure in will be what kills you. You’ll become depressed, start sleeping more, stop fighting your illness. Jesse can see how this plays out and he hates himself for doing this to you, for not being strong enough to let you go.

“I should have let her take those pills.” He whispers into the air. “I should have let her go out the way she wanted.”

Love Jesse? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

“I think I proposed to you last night.” He tells you as he comes to a halt before you, his chest heaving as he struggles to take deep breaths.

Damn right you did.

The Farm Boi Series: The Hangover: Dennis Whitaker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @sargeant-sad-eyes @caffeinatedwoman @hooks-martin

Summary: Dennis wakes up after this brother's wedding with your name on his chest and no memory of the night before.

Companion piece to:

Peppermint - The taste of peppermint will always have a special place in Dennis’s heart.

The Morgue Thing - A miscommunication between you and Dennis almost ends things before they begin.

Written In The Stars - Your first date with Dennis takes place underneath the stars.

In The Park - Dennis reveals a secret after the two of you spend the night together in the park.

Virgin - There's a rumour going around about Dennis.

Debauched (NSFW) - Karaoke night ends a lot differently than it did the first time around.

Symphony (NSFW) - Dennis has never eaten pussy before…

Pretty Boy (NSFW) - You and Dennis take the next step in your relationship.

Permanent Marker - You find out about the betting pool.

The Porn Boom (NSFW) - Dennis isn't like the other man you've been with.

Wild Flowers - A crown of wildflowers leads you and Dennis to discuss the issues he has with his family.

A Friend of Denny’s - Your relationship with Dennis takes a turn when his parents come to town.

A Cold Day In Hell - Dennis tries to make amends for his actions.

Pause - You and Dennis have a frank conversation about the future.

Gardens of Babylon - Dennis has made his choice, now it’s time for you to make yours.

My Future Wife - Dennis makes a promise to you at Jana’s celebration of life event.

The Farm Boi Series:

Virtue - Dennis’s mom makes her distaste for you known.

Wild Boy - Dennis has a surprising reaction to his mother’s protests about your relationship.

Bison Daddy - Dennis shows you a whole new side after a baby bison is rejected by it’s mother.

Eight Seconds - You find out the truth about Dennis from his brother Rick during a bachelor party.

The Third Time (NSFW) - You show Dennis how loved he truly is.

The morning after his brother’s wedding feels like the start of The Hangover. Dennis wakes up in his family’s barn, sprawled out across a hay pile with his dad’s prize cow mooing into his face.

The jacket and shirt from his crisp grey suit is missing and he has ‘Lola’s’ written on his chest in crimson lipstick. There’s a sharp pulsing in his temples that comes from drinking his Nana’s black cherry moonshine, along with a fearsome taste in his mouth and no memory of the night before.

With Mabel the cow’s help he manages to pull himself to his feet. His legs are wobbly and his fly is down, leading him to realise he definitely had sex last night.

When he stumbles into the farmhouse, his oldest brother Rick is sitting at the kitchen table nursing the mother of all headaches and a mug of coffee. He looks like hell, still clad in his matching wedding suit, with a shiner that’s the exact same shade of purple as the plums they harvest in the summer.

“What the hell happened last night?” He asks as he shuffles towards the coffee pot.

“Fuck if I know.” Rick mumbles, rubbing his palm over his exhausted features. “Everything after the moonshine is hazy, I didn’t realise Nana still had the still up and running although it explains some shit… I’m guessing she’s supplying half the county.”

“You seen Lola?” Dennis asks as he sips from the mug, wincing at the bitterness of the brew. Rick shakes his head.

“Last time I laid eyes on her was when you gave her your shirt after Rae Kimbell intentionally spilt red wine on her dress.”

“Fuck…” Dennis drawls out because he remembers that now, in fact he’s starting to remember a whole lot of things. Like the fact his momma had tried to use the wedding as a way to set him up with Rae again, how pissed she’d been when he'd told her he'd had enough of her trying to fuck with his relationship.

“Rae made a play for you, you turned her down and she got petty, decided to teach the city girl a lesson…” Rick tilts his head, surveying the looped handwriting on Dennis’s chest. “I’m guessing that’s why Lola wrote her name on your chest, to remind Rae who you belonged to. We were all pretty drunk by then. Your girl though, she’s a lot of fun. I can see why you want to marry her.”

Dennis almost spits out this coffee. “I said that?”

“Oh yeah, to everyone.”  Rick tells him as he reaches into the wicker basket laundry basket resting on the chair next to him and tosses Dennis one of his t-shirts. “It’s the reason momma’s at church, praying for your soul right now.”

And that’s when Dennis recalls the rest of what happened last night. The two of you escaping into the night laughing, his fingers threaded through yours as he led you to the black cherry tree on the border of the farm. He’d laid his suit jacket across the grass, made love to you underneath the blossoms. You’d still been coming down from the high when he’d wrapped a cherry stem from the tree around your ring finger and asked you to marry him. You’d fallen asleep in his arms after that. The temperature had started to drop so he’d headed off to the barn to get a horse blanket to cover you both. He must have passed out before he even reached the rack because Nana’s moonshine…

It’s strong as hell.

“Fuck.” He says yanking the t-shirt down over his head, the damn thing practically swamps him because Rick is built like a linebacker just like the rest of them. “I know where Lola is.”

He’s out of the house before Rick can stop him, hauling ass across the field, the tall grass whipping past his hips as he races towards the tree. He can see you standing there in the distance, his suit jacket draped over that shirt of his and a pair of nude high heels on your feet. Your head is on a swivel, your brow furrowed as if you’re trying to find your bearings. Your gaze lands in him and the sight of you, it literally takes his breath away as you stand there on his family’s property amongst the wildflowers.

“I think I proposed to you last night.” He tells you as he comes to a halt before you, his chest heaving as he struggles to take deep breaths.

“Oh.” You say as you look down at the cherry stem ring on your finger. “I think you did.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

“It’s not my favour, it’s for Charlie-”

“Oh the other Judas who almost ruined my career.” She shoots back, trying to tug the door from his grasp.

Shawnstown: Colours - Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @yousigned-upforthis @julius-ceasar @flu3rm0r3 @thinemineours

Premise: Shawnstown is an AU universe, where different Shawn Hatosy characters have found a home over the years for different reasons within their journeys. This is not in line with any of the current ongoing storylines for these characters.

Learn More Here

Summary: Jack tries to ask a favour...

Companion piece to:

When Is A Search Not A Rescue - Jack latest search operation yields more questions than answers.

Masterlists:

Andrew Pope Cody

Sammy Bryant

Charlie Reid

Clayton Emerson

Jack Abbot

Stan Rosado

Jack does not want to get out of his car. He does not want to get out of his car because he knows as soon as he steps foot on Anna’s porch she’s going to find some clever way to murder him. To be honest she’d be well within her rights too because that decision he made three months ago, it hasn’t stopped having consequences, not for her.

He grips the steering wheel, staring at the house where he’d spent Sunday mornings in bed with a beautiful woman, laughing with her, loving her.

That’s over now but Jack, he still feels it. Everytime he catches a glimpse of her on Main Street or hears her voice at a town meeting, it makes his chest hurt because he knows there isn’t a chance in hell the two of them can never go back.

He sighs as he reaches into the glove box, removing the photocopied versions of the letters that were found scattered outside Sheila’s car. He’d returned the original set to Charlie for Forensics to review when they eventually got on the scene. His prints are already on file for elimination for when their searches turn into something more problematic like this one.

He tucks the paperwork under his arm before he forces himself out of the car, hissing through his teeth at the ache in his lower back.

He’s been on his feet too long. An eight hour search on uneven terrain has exhausted him and the twinge in his hip reminds him that he needs to switch out his prosthetic from the multi-axial ankle to the flat foot now that he’s on steady ground again. He has it in the trunk of his car but he doesn’t want her to glance through the window and see him sitting there because if she does he knows she’ll refuse to answer when he knocks.

He drags himself up the concrete steps to the white door. There’s a sunflower wreath adorning it these days, her favourite flower. He suspects it’s something Aubrey has made.

That’s good, he thinks as his fingertips chase over the petals. It’s good that she has someone to talk to about this whole mess with.

The door swings open when he raises his hand to knock. His gaze comes to rest on her as she searches for the keys to the Jeep in the depths of her purse.

She’s wearing that brown suede fringe jacket she’s had since the 90s over a pair of worn out Wranglers. Her platinum blonde hair is loose, falling across her face into an edgy layered bob just like the one out of Halsey’s music video for Colors.

The only reason he’s seen the damn thing is because Ani, Scotty’s niece had kept watching it on repeat when he was keeping an eye on her as a favour.

That song though, the meaning of it, it’s not lost on him.

He’d watched the vibrancy leak out of Anna after her last search, the colour in her fading into grey. That’s why he did what he had to do.

When she looks up and sees him standing there, she reacts the exact way he expected she would, by trying to slam the door in his face. He manages to jam his foot in the gap, so she tries to slam it harder and that’s when she realises which leg he’s using.

“It’s not fair that you can use the prosthetic against me.” She informs him, leaning against the door frame. “What do you want? I’m on the way out.”

“I gotta favour to ask…”

She lets out a laugh. It’s a bitter sound that carries across the porch, twisting at his insides as she steps over the threshold, yanking the door closed behind her. He listens for the lock clicking into place before he follows her down the stairs onto the paved pathway.

“Why would I be doing you any favours Jack?” She retorts as she heads towards the battered Jeep. “You kicked me off the SAR team, which led to me being forced to take a leave of absence from my job. I have literally just started back this week and now you turn up asking for a favour. You are fucking unbelievable.”

Anna unlocks the Jeep, climbing inside but Jack catches the door before she can close it. The look she gives him, he’d be burning alive if he believed in things such as heaven and hell.

“It’s not my favour, it’s for Charlie-”

“Oh the other Judas who almost ruined my career.” She shoots back, trying to tug the door from his grasp. “Whatever it is you can tell him he lost all that good will when he went to the town council and had me forced onto mental health leave.”

She tears the door out of his grasp, slamming it closed. He reaches for the handle again but she hits the lock, shutting him out. The engine roars to life and he steps back as she pulls away from the curb, leaving him standing there on the sidewalk.

He debates getting in his car, going after her but he knows better than that. Instead he returns to Anna’s porch and holds up the folder he has tucked under his arm up to the doorbell camera. The chiming on her phone will drive her crazy enough to watch the video later on, he can guarantee it.

“This contains the final words of a dead woman.” He says into the camera pointing at the folder. “We think she was murdered out by Oakpine Woods, you wanna know more? You know where I am.”

He makes a show of sliding it underneath the doormat before he raises his hands and backs off, retreating to his car. He picks up his phone from the passenger seat and dials Charlie’s mumber. He can hear talking in the background and guesses that Forensics have arrived are on the scene so he keeps it brief.

“She took off but I’ve left the letters for her to look through when she gets  back.” He tells the other man as he inserts his key in the ignition. “Trust me, if there’s one thing that woman can’t resist it’s a mystery.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the Shawnstown taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

Oh Cici.

You deserve the best life, and our John just wants to be with you and give you that best life

My Love Always: John Shen x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @miraclesabound @cannonindeez @fadeinsol @nommingonfood

Summary: A simple card makes you reach out to one of the most important people in your life.

Companion piece to:

Ashes - You take revenge on the first man your parents sold you to.

The Choice - In the wake of his brother’s suicide John goes against his parents’ wishes and makes a choice about his residency.

You Should See Me In A Crown - A chance encounter sparks the beginning of something special for John.

Dick Pics - You and John discuss your dating life in the ambulance bay during a rare shift break.

Brunch - John refuses to give up when you miss brunch with him.

Silly Little Boys (NSFW) - John's not like the other men you've been with.

In The Summer - You discover John's secret.

Tiger, Tiger - John reveals the truth between his engagement and his history.

Jack - John's mother opens up old wounds by giving John a copy of your DCFS file.

Bare (NSFW) - John and you commit to each other in a special way.

The Shirt - Jack realises that you're wearing a boyfriend shirt.

Tradition - Mrs Shen makes a decision regarding the wedding.

Daywalker - You and John discuss something that could cause a big change in your relationship.

The Wedding Gift - John’s dad brings out the worst in him.

Pandora’s Box - John realises he’s opened up Pandora’s Box when his brother pays a visit.

Fucked Up - You take care of John when he starts to have doubts.

His Fucked Up Wang - John’s forced to treat your ex when he’s rolled into the ED.

The Other Man - John discovers something that may effect your future together.

Princess Cut - You find something unexpected inside John’s sock drawer.

The Broken Girl - The best night of your life turns into one of the worst when your plans are disrupted.

The Rooftop - John and Jack finally talk about what happened at the party.

You find the card on your welcome mat, your name written in John’s neat scrawl on the envelope. The engagement ring glitters on your finger as you reach for it, the princess cut emerald flashing in the light. You haven’t been able to take it off because if you do it means that it’s all over, and you aren’t sure you’re ready for that just yet.

Your thumb slides underneath the crease, separating it from the paper as you open up the envelope, drawing out the card out.

Your breath catches as you study it because you can tell John has put so much thought into it. The gold foil hearts remind you of the crown that’s tattooed between your shoulder blades, the phrase ‘For A Badass Queen’ embossed amongst them.

Your hands are trembling when you open it, your gaze fixing on John’s blocky writing as you trace your fingers over the letters.

Cici,

Words cannot express how proud I am. The day shift are lucky to have a training officer as fierce and as badass as you.      

You’ve worked your ass off for this, you deserve this!

My love always

John x

It’s those last words you focus on.

My love always.

You know he means them, you feel it with every fibre of your being.

You swallow hard against the ache in you chest as you pull your phone out of your purse, dialling that familiar number, the one that you always turn to in times of crisis.

The two of you haven’t been talking lately, or rather you’ve not been talking. You’ve been too embarrassed to admit that you’ve gone back to therapy, that your head got a little messy, that you got a little out of control.

Sometimes it feels like you’ve come so far and then there’s just one thing, one stupid thing that takes you back there, makes you feel like you’re eighteen years old again, trying to survive on your own on the streets.

There’s a click on the other end of phone and Jack’s voice rumbles over the line.

“Cici.” He answers, his voice echoing from the other side of your door. “I’m right outside.”

Love John? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

So Pope is a Disney Princess?

Shawnstown: The Crafty Fox - Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @akotafi @yousigned-upforthis @cowardlycandy @storiesaplenty

The premise of Shawnstown...

Summary: Three years after his release from prison Pope has made a home for himself in Shawnstown.

Masterlists:

Andrew Pope Cody

Sammy Bryant

Charlie Reid

Clayton Emerson

Jack Abbot

Stan Rosado

Companion piece to:

Chapter One: The Map That Leads To You - Freshly released from prison Pope decides to start his new life in honor of the woman he lost.

There’s a scratching at the workshop door.

The sound of tiny white paws raking against the wood as the creature tries to get inside.

Pope sighs, setting the paintbrush back down into the heather grey paint can before he forces himself to his feet. He promised himself last night, and the night before that he wouldn’t do this again but here he is opening the door to the beast.

A red fox streaks in through the gap, heading directly past the paint can to the dust sheet he’s tossed in the corner underneath the infrared ceiling heater. It pads the rough fabric with it’s feet before settling down and yawning.

“Alright, just come in like you own the place.” He mutters to Franco, leaving the door ajar so that the animal can leave when it wants to. The fox yips at him and Pope rolls his eyes as he picks up a handful of peanuts from the bag on the work bench before tossing them to him. He snuffles the first one, crunching it between his jaws before he sniffs out the rest.

“We’re running out of these things.” He tells Franco as he holds up the plastic bag for the fox to see before sealing it. “We’ll have to get some more from the store tomorrow, maybe we’ll mix them up with some roasted cashews, give you a little treat before the winter sets in.”

The fox eats another peanut in response to Pope’s words and Pope nods his head.

“That’s a yes on the cashews huh?” He says before placing the bag on the highest shelf above the workbench so Franco can’t get to it.

He learned that lesson the hard way last year when the fox first showing up at his door. The wily thing managed to climb up onto the workbench using the stool and torn the plastic open with his teeth, scattering them everywhere. Pope had ended up yelling at the damn animal because his carefully controlled domain had devolved into chaos and Franco had slinked off into the night, not returning for almost a week.

In the end Pope and become so desperate for company, he’d started to leave a trail of peanuts from the edge of his property leading up to the workshop where he spent most evenings working on the orders that came through for his woodworking skills.

Building shit had started off as a way to keep himself busy in the evenings. Being up here on the mountain alone gave him too much time to think especially when the darkness rolled in so he started collecting sticks from around the ten acres he’d purchased along with the cabin and workshop, turning them into birdhouses and using moss as decorations. He’d dotted them around his property, and spent mornings on his porch sipping coffee, watching chickadees and wrens darting in and out of them.

“You should try selling them.” Ray the owner of the General Store had told him when he’d dropped by after not seeing him for a couple of weeks. Pope had been sick with the flu, too dizzy to make the drive into town and then other man had brought soup. “I’ve got some shelf space opened up, I’m sure they’d go great in the spring. You mind if I take a couple? I’ll give you the cash next time you’re in town.”

“Just have them.” Pope had said gesturing to the growing pile of bird houses, that were taking up residence on his kitchen table, moss piled neatly beside them. It had been the only task he could do when he was sick because he didn’t trust himself around power tools. “I have too many of the damn things anyway.”

“Maybe you should try your hand at something else.” Ray had said, tipping his head towards the chipped coffee table that came with the cabin. “Collect some driftwood from the beach maybe, make yourself a new coffee table.”

Until that moment branching out had never occurred to Pope. He’d become fixated on the birdhouses, which was why his workshop was full of them. He’d never had a chance to explore his creativity before. Everything prior to this was always done with some purpose in mind. An apparatus to help with a heist, a vent set up to practice in. He’d never just done something because he wanted to see if he could. There’s a joy in it he hadn’t expected, which is why he now has an obscene amount of birdhouses.

When spring hits the birdhouses sell out within the first week. He doesn’t expect the phone call asking if he can bring the rest by or the wad of cash Ray hands him when they’ve sold out too.

“People are asking what else you do.” Ray informs him as he wipes down the counter. “If you take special requests?”

“Like what?” He asks as he counts the notes in his hand before calculating ten percent of the sales. He separates the cash before setting it down on the counter and sliding it towards Ray. They hadn’t made formal agreement but the old guy definitely deserves a cut for giving him the shelf space and actively selling his shit.

“Mrs Waynes would like a couple of plant boxes for her porch.” Ray informs him, taking the bills and putting them into the register. “She said to go over and chat with her when you’re ready, she can give you the measurements.”

Pope freezes then. He’s given the people of this town a wide berth since coming here, removing himself from interactions, scowling whenever one of them sidles up to him. He doesn’t know how to talk to people since Dylan’s been gone. She’d brought him out of his shell when the two of them were together and he’s regressed since her death. The only person he really knows is Ray and that’s because dealing with him was a necessity when he first rolled into town.

“It’s ok.” Ray says after a minute. “I can get my daughter to head out there, get the details. She’s the one that makes the lavender wreaths like the one you have on your front door. Mrs Wayne’s loves talking to her.”

The wreath had been a welcome gift from the town, along with a basket full of local produce. It had been so unexpected that he hadn’t known what to do with it when it arrived on his porch, he’d sat there staring at it for an hour or two before taking it inside and carefully allocating the items to their new homes. He isn’t used to the kindness of strangers. He isn’t used to kindness full stop.

His business starts to grow over unwittingly over the next three years. Word spreads that he’s the guy to go to when you want ethical, unique custom woodwork. He starts to get calls from local businesses like Hatterby Farm asking if he wants to reclaim the wood from the barn they’re pulling down for his creations. This allows him to experiment with making bigger pieces like the toddler bed for guy who owns the outdoor activity centre by the lake.

The notes that Ray’s daughter Aubrey has taken are always meticulous and detailed, handed over in an envelope that smells like wild flowers. She always adds a couple of extra things he doesn’t need to know but he appreciates anyway because it makes him feel connected to the town. Like the fact Sammy’s kid has become Houdini and keeps escaping out of his crib by shoving his ‘Wolfie’ against the side and then howling Sammy awake because he can’t get Wolfie out through the bars.

He's pulled from his thoughts by a flash of copper, he tilts his head up to see Franco running across one of the freshly painted slats of wood he has laid, leaving small fox paw prints in the heather grey as he chases after a peanut that’s escaped.

“For fuck’s sake Franco…” Pope mutters before standing above the slat with his hands on his hips to survey the damage.

The piece of wood is laid out in between two others that will form the back panel of the bed that will slot against the wall in little Houdini’s room. Pope finds he actually quite likes the addition to the design, it gives the piece a bespoke twist, perfect for a kid that loves running around in the outdoors.

“Good job Franco.” He murmurs, rubbing his palm across his grizzled jaw before glancing at the fox as he chomps down his prize. “I’m gonna have to start calling this business The Crafty Fox if you keep this up.”

Love Pope? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the Shawnstown taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

Shawnstown: When Is A Search Not A Rescue - Jack Abbot x Reader (feat: Charlie Reid)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @yousigned-upforthis @julius-ceasar @flu3rm0r3 @thinemineours

Premise: Shawnstown is an AU universe, where different Shawn Hatosy characters have found a home over the years for different reasons within their journeys. This is not in line with any of the current ongoing storylines for these characters.

Learn More Here

First Chapters:

Andrew Pope Cody

Sammy Bryant

Charlie Reid

Clayton Emerson

Stan Rosado (Lee)

Summary: Jack latest search operation yields more questions than answers.

There’s a point during a Search and Rescue operation where it stops being about finding the individual and instead becomes about recovering their remains. Jack knows that, he accepts that. He just wishes it was different this time because this assignment…

It’s left him with more questions than answers.

Like the letters still sealed in their envelopes scattered across the ground around the deceased’s empty car, the one they’d found with the driver’s door open, keys in the ignition.

Her purse found fifteen miles into the dense woodland that surrounded her home, tipped out and strewn amongst the undergrowth.

The word HELP written on the ground with sticks and stones, the arrow pointing towards the abandoned fire road where they’d found the eighty year Sheila Dupree sprawled out, her blood and brain matter leaking into the dirt. She’d been dead at least eighteen hours, he could tell from the discolouration of her skin and the stiffness in her limbs. Another six and she’d be slowly easing her way out of rigor.

It’s meant to look like she slipped in the mud, hit her head on a rock but Jack doesn’t need a Medical Examiner to tell him when someone’s skull has been bashed in.

Thankfully neither does Chief of Police Charlie Reid. He’s been the Incident Commander in this search as is the protocol in small townships like theirs. Robby’s the designated Search Manager, developing strategy and deploying resources back at the Command Post while Jack leads a team of specialised searchers during call outs.

“She used to be a journalist you know?” Charlie says beside him, tilting his head to survey the body. “She’s been retired for a decade but she was still sharp as a tack according to the neighbours, not the type of person to lose their shit and go running off into the woods.”

They get a lot of dementia cases throughout this county, elderly folks who get disoriented, wander off. Jack’s worked enough of those searches to know that this isn’t one of them.

He tilts his head down to look at the ground underneath his boots. There’s been a lot of rain during the twenty four hours Sheila’s been missing. It’s saturated the mud, washing way the possibility of finding any footprints other than those of the searchers that located her.

“You think its tied to the other shit in the area?” He asks Charlie, crossing his arms over his chest.

There’s been a lot of weird crap going on in these woods over the past couple of months, disappearing hikers, campsites torn to pieces, reports of a bogey man stalking through the trees at night.

If it were thirty miles in the other direction he’d laugh and say that last one’s just Pope, but that man, he sticks to his own territory and he’s certainly not the type to go around slashing tents without cause.

“Maybe.” Charlie says before reaching into the pocket of his neon yellow windbreaker and removing the letters he collected from the scene back by the house. “I took the liberty of opening these as I thought it might give us a read on where she’d gotten to when the search was still active. She talks in circles for a while about finding something out there in the wild, doesn’t say what it is though.” Charlie sighs shrugging his shoulders. “The  problem is I’m not from around here so I don’t understand the landmarks she’s referring to. I was wondering if your bloodhound could take a look?”

“She’s not my-” Jack cuts himself off before pursing his lips together and shaking his head. “That woman would rather light my ass on fire right now that have me darken her doorstep.”

“Well I’m gonna be tied up with this scene for the rest of the day and I kinda need her help with these letters so…” Charlie shoves them towards Jack. “If you’re not gonna do it for me then do it for the dead woman lying at our feet, doesn’t she deserve our best effort here?”

Jack scowls. Their Chief, he’s a wily asshole. Never afraid to lay it on thick when he needs to, appealing to Jack’s sense of duty, pulling at his heart strings.

“She’s gonna burn me alive Charlie.” He informs the other man, snatching the letters from his hand.

“Yeah but she’ll probably put you out too.” Charlie reasons, clasping Jack’s shoulder sympathetically. “Afterall, isn’t that what Fire Chiefs do?”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the Shawnstown taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

“I want you to dress a little slutty tonight.” You say after you get home from work on Friday night.

Frank right now:

Club Night: Frank Langdon x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @travelingmypassion @julius-ceasar

Summary: Frank's sobriety has some down sides... until it doesn't.

Companion piece to:

Ivy - Frank gets a tattoo to commerate the woman he loves.

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn't the lowest point of Frank's addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction's caused.

Little Black Dress - Frank starts to spiral when he realises you're dating.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about the life you had together.

War Stories - A realisation about your coping habits leads you to Frank's door.

The Three Cs - Frank and you finally discuss your issues and pave away towards the future.

The Wall - A date at the climbing wall leads to a revelation from Frank.

Commitment - You create a fun way of showing Frank your commitment to the relationship.

At Your Alter - You discover Frank's tattoo when you undress him for the first time.

All In (NSFW) - You and Frank take a big step forward.

Slut (NSFW) - Frank gets a little bratty after a bad day.

Nightmare Fuel - Frank’s been waiting for the fall to come.

Boo Fucking Hoo - Your forced to defend yourself after you’re attacked outside the hospital.

The Incident - Frank’s world is thrown into turmoil when he learns about your attack.

The Filing Cabinet - Things haven't been the same between you and Frank since the attack.

The Perfect Storm - Frank's time in North Carolina almost leads to his downfall.

The House - Frank reflects on his decision to sell the house.

Hawaii - Frank travels to Hawaii to lay it all out on the line.

Wildest Dreams - Frank gets an unexpected surprise in the E.D.

The thing that Frank misses the most because of his sobriety is the clubbing. He misses the thrum of the music vibrating through his body, the flow of the movement, the freedom, the lack of inhibitions.

All of it, he just misses all of it.

Throughout the first year, he tries to replace it. He dances in the kitchen, turns the music up so loud that the neighbours leave bitchy notes on his car but nothing comes close to losing yourself along with a hundred other people to a DJ playing a lit set.

“I want you to dress a little slutty tonight.” You say after you get home from work on Friday night. You’re in an exceptional mood because your lawyer just called to tell you the asshole from your lawsuit is backing down, that you have the grounds to countersue, meaning you could recoup the legal cost. “Wear that see through black shirt we like to play in sometimes. I’ll put on those thigh high boots you want to fuck me in.”

Those boots, Frank’s been having dreams about the damn things ever since the night you asked him to move in with you.

He does as he’s told, adorning that transparent shirt that makes you a little feral. He pairs it with black jeans and a leather jacket to ward off the springtime chill as the two of you step out into the night.

When you pull up outside the club, he can already hear the music pounding out into the street. The hairs on his arms stand up and his body ignites with a sensation he hasn’t felt in a long time, one that pulses through him like a narcotic as he grips the doorhandle with white knuckles, fighting to restrain himself.

“Ivy, this isn’t a good idea…”

If he steps through that door, he knows he’s going to compromise himself. He’s going to get caught up in the whole club life thing, toss his sobriety chip down the drain. The thought of starting over…

That’s what stops him leaving the car.

“It’s dry night.” You tell him, turning to face him in the driver’s seat “They’ve just started trialling them out here in Pittsburgh. All the drinks are non-alcoholic, there’s just you, me and the music, nothing that could tempt you.”

“I don’t know about that.” Frank remarks unfastening his seatbelt, his gaze drinking in your outfit. You look like a fucking wet dream, hair falling loose around your shoulders, your lips painted the colour of black cherries. You’re wearing the same thing you did to Jana’s party, a short black dress and and those boots that make him lose his goddamn mind. “It’s been a long time since I got fucked in the bathroom of one of these places.”

What Frank’s forgotten about the dancing is that with the right partner it feels like foreplay. Your ass pressed just right against his throbbing cock as he moves with you, his fingertips skirting the hemline of your dress as he grinds against you.

When you take his hand and lead him to the bathroom, he’s ready to get down on his knees and worship you but instead you turn the tables, shoving him back against the wall before you go down on him. Those black cherry lips leaving the filthiest marks all over his dick as he grips your hair, pulsing right down the back of your throat.

You’re both covered in glitter and sweat by the time you leave the club. Frank can’t stop smiling, his ears are ringing and his body hurts but it’s all the signs of a good time, one of the wildest he’s had since his sobriety journey started. Out of all the people in this world you are the only person who gets him. You know exactly what he needs to diffuse the tension that ratchets up inside of him after a tough week in the E.D.

“This has been the best night of my life.” He tells you, his head coming to rest on the window as he watches the city lights speed by.

“Oh baby.” You tease, your hand reaching out to squeeze his thigh, your gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. “We have plenty more of them ahead of us, I promise.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

“What…” Robby tilts his head down to look at him and there’s his son beaming like the god damn moon, bouncing his tiny booty. “I can’t believe we made a Swiftie.”

*been away from tumblr for a bit. Just catching up now.*

Swiftie: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @yousigned-upforthis @oklahomapeach @before-we-get-started @fadeinsol

Summary: Robby realises your baby might just be a Swiftie.

Companion piece to:

Lines - It’s been a long time since Robby’s been attracted to someone like this.

Lipstick (NSFW) - It's love at first blow job for Dr Robby.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn't sleep when you're not around.

Bunny - Robby discovers you've been keeping secrets.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby's neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Poolside - When Robby's had a really shitty day he always ends up whereever you are.

The Betting Pool - Robby discovers that his collegues have been taking bets on his relationship.

Fifty Shades of Robby - Robby's collegues see the truth of his relationship when they find your Instagram.

Dumb Bitch - Robby exhibits his protective side when another man steps on his territory.

Stop Compressions, Start Compressions - Robby loses everything in the aftermath of Pittfest.

24 Hours - Robby refuses to leave your side in the aftermath of the shooting.

Saftey Rail - Abbot gets real with Robby when he finds him on the roof.

Baby, It's Gonna Be Alright - Robby wonders if he's fucked things up with you for good.

Exorcism (NSFW) - Robby and you finally find a way to be honest with one another.

Ready - Robby and you discuss starting a family in the aftermath of Pittfest.

The Rose - You give Robby a special gift for your anniversary.

Heartbeat - Robby finds something to help him sleep.

Jinx - Robby discovers a particular superstition of yours.

The Scary One - Robby and you face concerns during your second pregnancy scan.

Pop Tarts - You and Robby decorate the baby's nursery.

Brave Little Boy - Robby wakes up to the baby kicking and gets a suprise.

Brown Eyed Boy - The birth of your son doesn’t quite go the way you’d planned.

One Week - Robby cares for the two of you one week after his son’s birth.

Seperation Anxiety - Robby gets severe seperation anxiety at the thought of returning to work after Noah's birth.

The baby likes dancing.

He likes being tucked in close to Robby’s body, feeling the rumble of daddy’s chest as he sings to the music. His tiny fists flail excitedly as Robby sways his hips to Taylor Swift’s Shake It Off in the kitchen.

“He’s definitely a Swiftie.” You say watching the two of them over your laptop at the kitchen table. “He’s gonna drag Papa kicking and screaming out of the Blues and right into mommy’s favourite genre Pop, just you watch.”

“You been working him while I’ve been at the hospital?” Robby asks you as Noah’s chubby fingers come to rest his lips. He kisses the tiny pads, making loud smooching noises as the baby scrunches his face up as if to laugh.  “Playing the Midnights album while he sleeps?”

“Trust me when you’re not here the only thing he does sleep to is folklore.” You inform Robby as you return your attention to the spreadsheet in front of you. “He really loves The Last Great American Dynasty, I think it might be the fact it tells you a story you know? You put that on and he just crashes out.”

“Have you seen what happens when you put on Bejeweled?” Robby asks you and you shake your head before pulling up your Spotify playlist to find the right album. “I’m telling you he loses his mind.”

He isn’t wrong. As soon as the opening bars start to play baby Noah’s chubby arms go up like he’s at a rave, and his feet kick out as if he’s doing the two step at a barn dance. Those delicate features of his light up like the Fourth of July, a smile appearing on his pursed lips.

“Holy shit Robby.” You erupt as the song hits the chorus. “He just smiled. He’s smiling right now.”

“What…” Robby tilts his head down to look at him and there’s his son beaming like the god damn moon, bouncing his tiny booty. “I can’t believe we made a Swiftie.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

You may have all noticed that I have not been doing requests or writing anything else. 

I have lost the drive to write for now. I tried when I was on holidays, but I would look at the screen and just sit there, my hands placed atop of my keyboard, and I was not typing. 

I seem to have writers block. Even with the requests that literally give the story ideas, nothing seems to flowing for me. 

I am sorry to everyone who has requested, but they will not be completed until further notice. 

They are still in my ASKs, and will remain there until I feel like this writers block has passed.

[storiesaplenty]

I need a story where someone finds Tim's model photos during a call at like a hoarder's place or something. They bring the photos back to their Sargent and for once, Tim is actually speechless.

Photos examples: found on Google

[storiesaplenty]

I will be thinking about this for awhile

Existential: Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @akotafi @yousigned-upforthis @fadeinsol @cowardlycandy

Summary: You and Pope have another first in the aftermath of Smurf's death.

Companion piece to:

The Professional - Pope meets the love of his life when Smurf hires her to crack a safe.

Ethical Thieving - You introduce Pope to a new skill set.

The Skatepark - Pope reacts badly when you try to share your feelings.

The Octagon - Smurf decides to show you the real Pope Cody.

Two Weeks - Two weeks is too long for Pope to go without you.

Crazy (NSFW) - Pope's always been crazy but now he's also a man in love.

Tomorrow - Pope's family always fuck up the good in his life.

Do Over Day (NSFW) - Pope tries to make up for the day before.

Everything - Pope's family life clashes with your time together.

Positive - Pope didn't expect for it to happen sooner rather than later.

Four Bullets - Smurf finds out about you and Pope, leading to dire consquences.

Misery (feat: Baz Cody) - Baz starts to notice there’s something wrong with Pope.

The Gruffalo - Pope finally lays eyes on you for the first time in months.

Kill The Queen - Pope tries to come to terms with Smurf’s death.

Night Thoughts - You and Pope discuss your fears about becoming a parent.

Being with you again is existential.

It’s passion, it’s fervour and it’s love in its purest form.

That’s what Pope thinks as his fingers thread through the silky strands of your hair, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. You’re lying together on the bed where you made a baby, the dying light of the sunset filtering through the open window. The breeze caresses his bare skin as he eases inside you, your name rolling off his lips like a prayer.

His hands chase all over your naked form, caressing the space where his child resides before he grips your ass and thrusts deeper, connecting with you in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. You gasp into his mouth and he knows he’s found that sweet spot, the one that has you coming undone around him in just a couple of thrusts.

He tries to ride it out, to hold back but the ecstasy it hits him like a wave, crashing through his body as you tighten around his dick. Your hands tangle in his hair, gripping his curls as you kiss him like your drowning, like he’s the only person on this earth who can haul you out of the water, who can breathe the life right back into you.

You climax together, his hips flush against yours as he paints your insides with hot, white spurts that have him moaning his pleasure into your mouth. He stays buried deep in the aftermath, his palms smoothing over your curves as he looks into your eyes.

“I love you.” He whispers for the very first time in his life. “I love you so god damn much.”

Love Pope? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

“Well we have a roadmap of what not to do.” Pope tells you, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind your ear.

Night Thoughts: Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fadeinsol

Summary: You and Pope discuss your fears about becoming a parent.

Companion piece to:

The Professional - Pope meets the love of his life when Smurf hires her to crack a safe.

Ethical Thieving - You introduce Pope to a new skill set.

The Skatepark - Pope reacts badly when you try to share your feelings.

The Octagon - Smurf decides to show you the real Pope Cody.

Two Weeks - Two weeks is too long for Pope to go without you.

Crazy (NSFW) - Pope's always been crazy but now he's also a man in love.

Tomorrow - Pope's family always fuck up the good in his life.

Do Over Day (NSFW) - Pope tries to make up for the day before.

Everything - Pope's family life clashes with your time together.

Positive - Pope didn't expect for it to happen sooner rather than later.

Four Bullets - Smurf finds out about you and Pope, leading to dire consquences.

Misery (feat: Baz Cody) - Baz starts to notice there’s something wrong with Pope.

The Gruffalo - Pope finally lays eyes on you for the first time in months.

Kill The Queen - Pope tries to come to terms with Smurf’s death.

You wake up to the sensation of Pope’s palm smoothing across your stomach, his hand dipping underneath the fabric of that t-shirt of his you’re wearing, his fingertips caressing your bare skin.

“She’s kicking again.” He whispers in the darkness, his voice filled with wonder as he chases the movement. You roll over onto your side, your face inches apart so you can look into his dark eyes. “Does it happen a lot?”

“All the time at night.” You tell him, snuggling back down into your pillow. “It’s something to do with the movement during the day rocking them to sleep.”

“So at night when mommy rests, it becomes an all out party.” He summarises, tickling the space where his daughter nudges against his hand. “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping so good?”

Nothing escapes this man, he’s been back in your life for almost forty eight hours and he’s already picking up on all of your shit. It’s kind of nice in a way because you’ve spent the majority of this pregnancy alone up until now.

“Partly.” You say with a sigh, looking down at the baby bump between the two of you. “The baby, she just brings up some thoughts, ones I haven’t figured out how to make peace with just yet.”

“What kinda thoughts?” He asks, propping his head up on his arm so he can give you his full attention.

“The fact I don’t have a parenting blueprint.” You tell him. His eyebrows furrow into a deep frown as he waits for you to explain. “My mom died when I was seven and my father…” You don’t say anything more than that but Pope knows what you’re alluding too. He was not the kind of role model anyone wants for their daughter. “I just don’t want to fuck her up like the way our parents fucked us up.”

“Well we have a roadmap of what not to do.” Pope tells you, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. “We already have so much love for her, we read the books, you take vitamins, attend doctors’ appointments. That’s already lightyears ahead of our parents. And the parenting classes will get us more prepared, everything else we’ll be able to figure together. The two of us”-he gestures between you- “we’re a team and we’ll support one another through the tough spots.”

The fact he’s here, saying those words, looking towards the future… You can’t express just how reassuring that is to someone who was a single mom this time last week.

“You have so much faith in the both of us.” You say as his thumb chases over the apple of your cheek. You clasp his hand to your face, your lips ghosting over the hollow of his wrist.

“You always tell me I’m not my history.” He reminds you, his whiskey coloured eyes soft as he looks at you. “You aren’t yours either. The two of us are going to break the cycle, raise our daughter to be happy, let her be a kid until she decides to become the president or an astronaut or whatever the fuck she wants. She’s going to have choices and opportunities that we never dreamed of and that’s because of us, because we decided to be better, do better. We made that decision, that’s how I know we’re going to be good parents.”

“Fuck.” You drawl, your forehead coming to rest upon his. “You’re so good at this already Andy.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his arm encircling your waist, drawing you even closer into the shelter of his form.

“Yeah.” You confirm, as his palms smooth over your back, rubbing soothing circles over your sore mucles. “I think you’re going to be an excellent daddy.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

@bullet-prooflove same!

I was diagnosed with Autism a few months ago.

Courting: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis @gabsgabsvaz @fadeinsol

Summary: You don't realise that Jack's courting you.

Companion piece to:

Tummy Tingles - Jack feels his first flush of desire since Maria's death.

Go Your Own Way - Jack struggles with his feelings for you.

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

You don’t realise that Jack is courting you.

If he’s honest Jack doesn’t realise it either. He just knows that he enjoys spending his Saturdays trawling late night vintage record shops with you, flicking through the vinyls trying to find the missing ones for your collections, listening to a track through the same set of headphones. It takes a while for him to realise that maybe he’s not actually looking for that rare Bob Dylan pressing, that maybe he just likes spending time with you.

Those evenings, they usually bleed into nights, to dinner at diners and late night double features at the movie theatre just a couple of blocks from your house.

“If we keep this up and I’m gonna start thinking we’re dating.” You tease as his palm comes to rest on your lower back guiding you towards your row of seats. He laughs but that’s exactly what he thought the two of you were doing. Taking it slow, working towards something.

I’m an idiot, he thinks as he sits next to you, his gaze focused on the screen. A woman like you, so smart and fucking pretty, she wouldn’t date an asshole like him.

He feigns disinterest the next time you ask him about record shopping, there’s a few new places you want to try, you think you’ve got a lead on that missing Fleetwood Mac album you’ve chasing. It’s all too much for Jack, he’s too wounded, too heartbroken to pretend it doesn’t eviscerate him to be around you.

“I don’t think I can go.” He tells you, keeping his focus on the patient chart in front of him.

“It doesn’t have to be record shopping if you’re getting bored of that.” You say, leaning over the desk so your face is close to his. He can smell the delicate scent of your perfume, it reminds him of daffodils swaying gently in a meadow during the first throes of spring. He wants to press his face into your neck, to inhale it as his mouth ghosts over the slender column of your throat. “We can see another movie, Unforgiven is playing…”

“I said I’m busy.” He says with a ferocity that makes you flinch. He hates himself for that, for snapping at you, for making you pull away as suddenly as you do. “I don’t want to be your friend Faye. I don’t want anything from you.”

You stare at him like you’ve never seen him before, like you don’t know the man that’s standing in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away, nodding your head in understanding.  

“Yeah.” You say as you turn your back on him and walk away. “I’m starting to get that.”

It’s five seconds later he feels a kick to his prosthetic leg, the damn thing nearly goes out from underneath him with the force of it. He twists his head to see Myrna sitting there in her wheelchair, her expression one of extreme dismay as she stares at him.

“What the hell was that?”

“None of your damn business.” Jack snaps, placing his good foot on the front of her wheelchair and pushing her away from him.

“Sweetcheeks…” She begins but Jack shakes his head as he picks up the tablet once more to review his patient’s chart.

No.” He says firmly, scrolling through the details on the screen, blocking her out. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[storiesaplenty]

I get it.

I never knew when someone was flirting/courting me.

I'm lucky I am married

Courting: Jack Abbot x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @flyinglama @yousigned-upforthis @gabsgabsvaz @fadeinsol

Summary: You don't realise that Jack's courting you.

Companion piece to:

Tummy Tingles - Jack feels his first flush of desire since Maria's death.

Go Your Own Way - Jack struggles with his feelings for you.

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

You don’t realise that Jack is courting you.

If he’s honest Jack doesn’t realise it either. He just knows that he enjoys spending his Saturdays trawling late night vintage record shops with you, flicking through the vinyls trying to find the missing ones for your collections, listening to a track through the same set of headphones. It takes a while for him to realise that maybe he’s not actually looking for that rare Bob Dylan pressing, that maybe he just likes spending time with you.

Those evenings, they usually bleed into nights, to dinner at diners and late night double features at the movie theatre just a couple of blocks from your house.

“If we keep this up and I’m gonna start thinking we’re dating.” You tease as his palm comes to rest on your lower back guiding you towards your row of seats. He laughs but that’s exactly what he thought the two of you were doing. Taking it slow, working towards something.

I’m an idiot, he thinks as he sits next to you, his gaze focused on the screen. A woman like you, so smart and fucking pretty, she wouldn’t date an asshole like him.

He feigns disinterest the next time you ask him about record shopping, there’s a few new places you want to try, you think you’ve got a lead on that missing Fleetwood Mac album you’ve chasing. It’s all too much for Jack, he’s too wounded, too heartbroken to pretend it doesn’t eviscerate him to be around you.

“I don’t think I can go.” He tells you, keeping his focus on the patient chart in front of him.

“It doesn’t have to be record shopping if you’re getting bored of that.” You say, leaning over the desk so your face is close to his. He can smell the delicate scent of your perfume, it reminds him of daffodils swaying gently in a meadow during the first throes of spring. He wants to press his face into your neck, to inhale it as his mouth ghosts over the slender column of your throat. “We can see another movie, Unforgiven is playing…”

“I said I’m busy.” He says with a ferocity that makes you flinch. He hates himself for that, for snapping at you, for making you pull away as suddenly as you do. “I don’t want to be your friend Faye. I don’t want anything from you.”

You stare at him like you’ve never seen him before, like you don’t know the man that’s standing in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away, nodding your head in understanding.  

“Yeah.” You say as you turn your back on him and walk away. “I’m starting to get that.”

It’s five seconds later he feels a kick to his prosthetic leg, the damn thing nearly goes out from underneath him with the force of it. He twists his head to see Myrna sitting there in her wheelchair, her expression one of extreme dismay as she stares at him.

“What the hell was that?”

“None of your damn business.” Jack snaps, placing his good foot on the front of her wheelchair and pushing her away from him.

“Sweetcheeks…” She begins but Jack shakes his head as he picks up the tablet once more to review his patient’s chart.

No.” He says firmly, scrolling through the details on the screen, blocking her out. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Love Jack? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee