#Caleb COULD have two hands if he could get his head out of his ass
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
How Caleb got that silly red ribbon
(I had to take a break from editing the 16,000 words I have yet to post for my main fic, and this happen) Established Essek/Caleb + feelings about Molly/Kingsley
Angst/Pining/Not really a happy ending/open ending - Mild Mighty Nein Reunion Spoilers
_____
“I don’t know why you insist on wearing this thing, but if you must, at least insure that it is straight,” Essek sighed dramatically, leaning into Caleb in front of the others, pointedly ignoring their snickers and whispers while he adjusted the red bow at Caleb’s collar.
“Nothing about him is straight, Essek. You should know that,” Beau teased from the bean bag she was sharing with Yasha, pulled into the circle of furniture in the salon where the Nein had gathered for their first of many monthly gatherings in the Tower.
Essek ignored her goating. They hadn’t made their relationship public yet, but there was increasingly less of a point to it since it was fairly obvious to everyone, especially since the spymaster elf could not contain his sly smile as he smooth his hands down Caleb’s shoulders after correcting the crooked bow and making the human blush.
“It’s a tie,” Caleb offered as an excuse even though he knew none was needed for the playful ribbing.
“I may not be an expert in Empire fashions, but I am quite certain that this is not a tie,” Caleb opened his mouth to argue, but Essek swiftly stopped him by continuing, “and do not insult bow ties by insinuating that is one.”
“My students like it.”
“They like having something to snicker at,” Essek flicked one of the ends of the red ribbon before smiling into his half drunk glass of wine. It was good to see him like this, relaxed and enjoying himself. Not that that had been an uncommon sight for Caleb the past few months, but the rest of their friends hadn’t gotten to see much of it, and it made Caleb’s heart a little more full to be able to share it with them in their magical home.
They all were gathered around a warm fire in the Salon, glasses all at different levels and with full bellies, relaxing in each other’s company with no looming threats for what felt like the first time. Or at least that’s what Caleb had thought, somehow missing the agitated swish of a lavender tail in the corner of the room.
“Godsdamn,” Kingsley abruptly stood up, his stride smooth after a wobbly first one thanks to the endless refills of ale provided by the tower cats, “Had I known it was gonna bother your boyfriend so fucking much, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
The swashbuckler was attempting to keep his tone light, play off his annoyance as a joke, but Caleb could feel his hurt by how he squatted in front of where the human sat on the loveseat next to Essek and lifted his bearded chin a bit more roughly then necessary. Quick fingers and a tug, and the ribbon was gone from around Caleb’s next. He wanted to protest, ask to keep the ribbon at least, but Kingsley stood and already had his deft hands tying the colorful gifted ribbon around the wizard’s ponytail instead.
“Ta-da! Better?” He asked Essek with a half sarcastic flourish, to which the elf stayed quite unsure how to interpret Kingsley's mood.
“Aww, now he kinda looks like a schoolgirl! I am sure your lady students will love it, Cayleb,” Jester was trying to defuse the tension, but Kingsley’s eye twitched before his face turned hard as stone.
“You lot really will make fun of him for anything, huh?” The ribbon was pulled free again, and this time Kingsley took it with him as he walked away, leaving Caleb with his protests caught in his throat lest he make his friend more frustrated. He hadn’t reached the chaise lounge he had been occupying before another of their friends spoke up, and Caleb kicked himself for not stepping in sooner to defend the ribbon.
“What the fuck man? We are just having a little fun, it's just a ribbon,” Beau chuckled, half confused and half dismissive.
Kingsley sighed, shaking his head as to dispel his foul mood. However, Caleb saw how his gloved hand clenched around the ribbon repeatedly before dumping the object of contention in one of the waste bins, and then stuffing his hands back into his coat pockets that were lined in the same material.
“No, no you are right, I am just tired, is all. Bit sensitive from a day trying to keep the crew from ruining the hull further while we patched her up, apparently. Gonna go take a bath. Night y’all.”
Kingsley didn’t give anyone the space to challenge him, but ducked out of the Salon much quicker than a sore sailor should be able to. An awkward silence stretched for a time, until a dark purple Mage Hand fished the discarded ribbon, and Essek dutifully cast Prestidigitation on it a few times despite there being nothing soiling it.
“I sincerely apologize, Caleb. I had not meant any ill —”
“No need, Schatz. You did not do anything wrong, I know you only tease because you care. I took no offense,” the confusion and worry ebbed a bit from Essek’s eyes, which was worth admission of affection in front of their friends.
“I do believe I need to apologize to Kingsley, however. I had not known he had gifted it to you, otherwise I wouldn’t have—”
“He did not,” Caleb felt horrible about cutting Essek off again, and worst for the listening ears now on him looking for an explanation, “He did not give it to me, not really. It had been meant as a gift for Frumpkin.”
The seconds dragged as Caleb fought not to get overwhelmed by the Nein’s silence as they all understood the unspoken in what he had said. All except for Essek.
“To my knowledge, Kingsley never met Frumpkin, correct?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Oh.”
The skin on the back of his neck burned, but he dropped his voice closer to a whisper, knowing it wouldn’t do much good to the more inquisitive of their group.
“I hadn’t expected him to be so upset when he found out Frumpkin was no longer with me. I took the gift and wore it myself as more of a joke to make him less sad. I will admit to continuing to wear it because it made him smile, and in turn me, because it reminded me of my friend,” the confession brought up so many conflicting and confusing feelings for the wizard that he had been stuffing down since they left Cognoza, and he couldn’t help the guilt that washed over him as he told his friend turned lover what he had been keeping private, “I am sorry, Essek. I should not have kept that from you.”
“It seems like both have a habit of apologizing to the wrong people,” Essek huffed, but still gave Caleb a kind smile while cupping his cheek with understanding the human was sure he didn’t deserve, “Go talk to him. I am sure he will be glad to retie it if you ask.”
“Nein,” Caleb shook his head, taking the hand away from his face and giving it a definitive kiss along the knuckles so Essek wouldn’t think for a moment he was wavering on his feelings for the other wizard. “This is for the best. It hadn’t been meant for me, it will be better if I let it go.”
Let him go.
”Besides, you are right,” he continued, louder and with an attempt to return to casualness he did not feel, “it was a rather unprofessional tie. You will just have to help me select a new one before the start of the new semester at the Academy.”
Predictably, there was a chorus of cheers and questions from the others at this confirmation that Caleb had finally accepted the offered teaching position at his old school. He answered all of them except for Jester’s more filthy ones about how he planned on christening his office. Eventually the good-natured mood returned to their group, aided with refilled glasses and fresh pastries.
Everyone that was, except for Essek, whose gaze was watching Caleb a little too carefully in that way that told the human his partner was not happy with his evasiveness on the subject. Caleb watched the red ribbon disappear quietly into the elf’s WristPocket, he had almost reached out to grab it, to ask to keep it. But he didn’t think his heart would survive the explanation, that it was the only reminder he had left of his old friend. The colorful tattoo’s glamored away in an effort to make Kingsley more of his own, all his old jewelry lying in a shallow grave where Lucien had tossed them, the coat and cards all now belonging to someone new.
The ribbon might have come from the scraps of Kingsley’s new identity, but it was all Caleb had to know that little fragment was still there, not completely lost to the ether. Reaching out to pet his cat like Mollymauk always used to, when really what the BloodHunter had wanted was Caleb’s attention. But the dirty old wizard had never given when he had had the chance, too scared of being hurt. Now too scared of being the one to hurt others. He owed it to Essek, to Kingsley, to not hurt them by holding on to a silly ribbon.
#critical role spoilers#shadowgast#widomauk#widoking#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#mollymauk tealeaf#kingsley tealeaf#this is messy and sad#just thank the gods CR didn't do this#Caleb COULD have two hands if he could get his head out of his ass#Essek is a good boyfriend#Kingsley is going through it
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
Jim from TDS gets so fuzzy brained and dumb when he’s pounding into Y/N, because he wanted her for so long and he finally has her. he feels he deserves to have what he wants, and also making sure everyone knows she belongs to him.
Y/N could be either Jim’s son’s gf/ex-gf, Jim’s daughter’s best friend, or Jim’s best friend 🫣
Btw you’re doing such a great job with your fics!!!
Warnings: Age gap (Jim is in his 40s, reader between 18-25), p in v, Jim’s a bad dad, unprotected sex, creampie, stalking social media, mentions of masturbating, taking inappropriate photos without consent, hickies
Thank you for the request I had a lot of fun with this! Hope you enjoy!❤️
Jim was reclined in his bed, his hand massaging his hardened member while he scrolled through social media photos of you. He was completely fucked ever since the day his son brought you home and may or may not have developed unhealthy coping mechanisms that his son had what he couldn’t.
Even in his dreams he could see your attractive silhouette, continuously replaying fake scenarios of you straddling him, on your knees batting those innocent lashes up at him begging for his cock.
You had him wrapped around your fucking finger without even knowing, you were completely and utterly hypnotizing.
“Fuck y/n..” He kept replaying a video on the beach, only thing covering you was a skimpy little bikini. Jim could just imagine what was underneath, reminiscing how even when he lay in the sun tanning chair, he couldn’t help but snag a few photos when you weren’t paying attention.
Position of you bent over picking up pebbles from the sand, when you came up for air from the water, specs of water droplets painting your chest, running down your cleavage.
He needed to have you, wanted to be entangled in the sheets with you, hearing you moan his name lustfully, screaming as he made you cum.
Your body was so young, hardly flawed, and had curves in all the right places. He hated to see you leave the house but loved to watch you walk away.
In the midst of coming to his high, the door slammed downstairs and he could hear yelling, what sounded to be you.
Curious, and for caution he pulled up his pants, huffing in irritation that he was interrupted from his intrusive, sexual imaginations.
“You are such an ass! Just because I enjoyed an evening with my friends doesn’t give you the right to go out with some random girls to some party and kiss them! You’re ridiculous, did you even think about me for a singular moment?!” This was the moment Jim had been waiting for, as awful as it may sound, he wanted you two to break up. He wanted the opportunity to arise for him to be there when you’re upset, knowing that there was a chance for you two to be together.
Jim wasn’t stupid, there were many times where you “accidentally” brushed past him inappropriately, there were plenty of stolen glances and obscene gestures whenever his son Caleb wasn’t around. You wanted him just as much, but due to your relationship with his son, you hadn’t gone any further. He’d constantly have to excuse himself to the restroom to deal with the repurcussions, seeking out a sweet release.
“You’re over reacting, besides I’ve been meaning to put an end to this dwindling flame. We were never going to work so figured, why not just end it the easy way.” Jim was in shock that Caleb would do such a thing to a girl, especially you. He had taught him better than that, granted he did cheat on his mother but that was besides the point.
Hearing footsteps run up the stairs followed by a door slam, Jim poked his head out hearing your sniffles from downstairs. What kind of man would he be to not check in and ensure you were okay?
“Y/N?” You were seated on the cushioned sofa, mascara flowing messly down your cheeks from weeping, but that voice…that masculine, caring, attractive voice had your glancing up from your emotional turmoil.
Jim was standing there in his pajama pants and black t-shirt, his reading glasses tucked in the hem of his shirt while his peppery hair was slightly disheveled.
“Oh I’m sorry, I was just going to head out. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, no. Stay please. My son’s an idiot and I can assure you I didn’t raise him to be that way.” He took a seat next to you, trying to act concerned when in reality his eyes kept glancing at your thighs, the way your skirt hardly covered anything. Keep it together Jim, jesus.
The close proximity and the smell of Jim’s cologne was raising the tension, and an idea popped into your head. If Caleb thought he had the right to hurt you, you would hurt him ten times worse.
Jim’s crystal blue, alluring eyes were locked on your in a transfixed state of mind, heart pumping with adrenaline when he settled his hand on your thigh in a way to “comfort” you.
He was radiant, smart, and overwhelmingly attractive for a man in his forties. When he touched you, goosebumps formed on your skin, breath hitching in your throat. Was this a bad idea, most likely, but temptation and profound desire had a hold of you both.
“I um- I always thought you were a nice girl Y/N, and beautiful, kind, sexy- fuck what the fuck am I saying.” He wanted to hit himself for his stammering of words, rolling off his tongue without even thinking, but you simply laughed, blushing from his clear embarassment. When he tried to pull away his hand, you moved it back further up just nearly underneath your skit.
“Jim, it doesn’t bother me. I’ve always thought you were quite sexy too, I mean fuck you’re a total dilf and I’ve always imagined what you looked like underneath those clothes. How fucked up is that? My own boyfriend- well ex’s dad.” You glanced down at the floor, eyes skimming the carpet trying to find a way to justify your feelings, that they weren’t morally wrong.
Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, he slid his finger down the length of your warm neck, gaining your attention.
There was a momentous silence as you stared into one another eyes, an immense sense of crave and desire coursing through your veins.
Closing the distance, you smashed your lips against Jim’s, hands settled on his cheeks needing him desperately. At that moment the air in the room seemed to disappear, the oxygen slowly didsapating from Jim’s lungs. He was in disbelief that this was actually happening, he was kissing his son’s ex girlfriend who he’d been masturbating to all summer long.
Your lips were soft, smoothe, and you were surprisingly good at kissing for how young you were. Unable to resist, his tongue lapped inbetween your lips as he pulled you onto his lap, his hardened cock rutting against your dripping mound desperately needing you, forgetting Caleb was just upstairs.
He held you like a woman, his hands grasping at the chubby skin of your ass cheeks underneath your skirt, roaming and massaging the delicate skin roughly.
“Fuck Y/N… you don’t know how long I’ve waited for this moment…” Your lips roamed down to the crook of his neck, sucking and rotating your tongue, surely leaving a mark causing him to release a disgruntled groan.
Your hands fumbled with his belt, craving to be filled with his cock while your pussy throbbed in your panties, slick merely dripping from your cunt.
Shedding yourself of your shirt, Jim’s eyes widened from the sight of your well rounded, perfect tits, they were everything he had imagined them to be and more.
His hands grasped the jiggly skin, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction. Hold it together Jim, what would she think if you busted just from the sight of her fucking tits, pathetic man.
His brain seemed to turn to a puddle, any prior thoughts lost from your hypnotizing body. He had to have you right then and there.
“Well, are you going to fuck me or not, because I really…” You trailed off you sentence, running a singular finger down his lip, eyes focused on him with a lustful gaze as you grinded against his lap, needing more.
“Really, need you inside me, my pretty pussy aches for you Jim.” Within second he flipped you onto your back, shedding himself of his clothes and tearing down your skirt and panties down in a animalistic frenzy.
He had never seen such a perfect cunt in his life, so in tact, so beautiful, and dripping for him, god how his dick was felt like it was going to burst any minute. His size took you by surprise, Jim wasn’t small by any means, his cock a good eight maybe nine inches, this was going to be fun.
Your hand grazed the back of his neck, pulling him down just so your lips brushed against his ear.
“Hope your cock is better than your son’s, wouldn’t want to be dissapointed.” He took that as a challenge, one that he knew very well he was going to win.
“My son, doesn’t seem to know how to pleasure his woman and I’m going to make sure he and everyone else knows who fucked you right.” Your eyebrow quirked up in interest.
“Well go on then, fuck me like no other man could.” Jim had never been this nervous in his life to fuck a woman, but you- you he didn’t want to leave unsatisfied.
He didn’t even need to glance down before pushing the head of his thick shaft deep inside of you, claiming you as his.
You gasped from the sudden intrusion, nail’s scraping against the muscles on Jim’s back. He smirked satisfyingly, leaning down to kiss you once more, shoving his tongue roughly into your mouth, desperately needing to explore every inch of you, craving more and more.
He pumped quickly into you, patience being non existent, the feel of your hot, indisputably tight walls clenching to his length. Your boobs bounced with each powerful thrust. His lips trailed down to the warmth of your neck, tenderly sucking lavender marks into your smoothe skin, needing people to know who you belonged to now.
“Oh Jim, more, more, please…” Oh the velvet, captivating sound of your strained moan had his horny brain whirling, eyes merely fluttering closed from the sweet descent of your exasperated tone.
Your pussy was throbbing from pleasure, being filled to the brim like no other man had fucked you before.
Your fingers intertwined in his hair, scrunching at his gray, partially wavy hair, pressing him against your body as he fucked you relentlessly. His free hand cusped at the cushiony skin of your boob, rolling the jelly like skin.
He needed to see you in another position, he need to see himself filling your cunt.
Standing up causing you to whine from the empty feeling, he picked you up with his strong arms effortlessly as if you weighed nothing before bending you over the sofa.
“Oh!” Jim slapped your ass and pulled your head back aggresively by the strands of your hair, plumetting his cock into your heated, tight walls simultaneously.
“Fuck! Fuck Jim! Ah!” He didn’t hold back, striking deep within your aching core over and over, his balls slapping against your skin with each powerful thrust. He had never seen an ass bounce back against him so poetically and perfectly, he was nearly salivating on the mouth looking down at you bent over on display for him and only him. Watching your pussy swallow his dick with each desperate rut, god you were stunning.
Hearing you man his name and take his cock so well was sending him over the edge, his dick pulsating in you before he even had the chance to think.
As you pounded your ass back against him, your bottom lip was becoming increasingly swollen from how much your teeth had been biting at it from the immense pleasure.
“Jesus, you’re fucking amazing, fucking beautiful, taking my cock so fucking well. Tell me who you belong to.”
“You Jim. All yours, completely yours. I-I’m going to-Ah-“ He slapped your ass cheek fiercely once more, focusing on the way you moaned his name, the way your back arched as you came undone.
Your knuckes turning white from the grip they had on the cushioned surface, toes curling from your orgasm. The euphoric, alluring sensation taking over every part of your body.
That didn’t stop Jim from going to pound town. Slamming your hips down against him, rutting desperately and bottoming out deep within your dripping, aching cunt. He wad close.
“Gonna fucking cum- want me to fill you up love. Hm? Having my cum spilling out of you like a faucet for days.” You nodded desperately moaning for him to cum at the sound of his gruff voice
“Jim, Jim, please. I need your cum, need you to paint my fucking insides white, right now. Now.” At that moment you could feel his thick cock pulsate within your core, his cum shooting straight up into your cervix.
“Fuck, fuck y/n… I’m fucking cumming.” The sweat beaded at your forhead, his own dripping down from his hair onto your back.
He had never felt a high so unfathomably pleasurable, he finally felt like he had accomplished what he always wanted- needed to. You were finally his.
Pulling out he stretched your cunt, pulling the sensitive, reddened skin apart with his large digits, seeing the art he had created with his milky white cum flowing freely out of your alluring pussy that was still twitching from your orgasm.
Caleb turned and twisted in his bed, the constant strange sounds keeping him up. Deciding to investigate, he grabbed the bat from his room before making his way downstairs only to be blindsided with his own dad intertwined with his now ex-girlfriend whom was covered with hickies on her neck
“What the fuck is this?! How did this-How could-“
“That’s how you treat a woman son. Maybe take notes because let me tell you, she’s a keeper this one.” You smirked on the couch, nuzzling your nose against his chest being fully happy with your decision to sleep with your ex’s father. He was already proving to be more of a man than Caleb ever was.
“Ready for bed love?” Jim held his hand out for you, wrapping his robe around your shoulders while Caleb stood there fuming at the actions of his own father and you, disbelief that you’d go this far, making him question if you ever really gave a shit about him or just dated him for his dad.
#Jim#jim tds#jim x reader#jim x you#Jim tds x reader#Jim tds x you#the delinquent season imagine#ranaewrites#requested
214 notes
·
View notes
Text
On Deck Part 1: Hot Corner
Pairing: Jack Daniels x Female Reader Baseball AU
Word Count: 8,117
Rating: M (language, general adult thoughts, etc.)
Summary: Taking your best friend's little brother to a minor leage game to see his favorite player just might lead to a lot of changes in your life.
And you're ready.
Author’s notes:
This story has been in progress for more than two years. I've written about Baseball Jack many times before ... but only the "after". It's time to see how - and where - it all began.
(On Deck universe masterlist for all the extras!)
Thank you to everyone that convinced me to work on this and to keep this pairing going / to flesh them out more. I have had so much fun with this because I have such a love for the MLB (and the men who play in the league) - and I'm so excited to share it.
While there are a lot of baseball references within this story, you only need to know the basics to enjoy it and understand them - we're not getting overrly technical here.
As always, if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out. I hope you enjoy this as much as I am.
Third base is often called the ‘hot corner’ due to the prevalence of right handed hitters - and subsequent on-field action - in the league. The third baseman is typically the infield position player closest to the batter, so to excel in this position, players need to display quick reaction times and exceptional hand-eye coordination.
“We’re going to be late.” He stood next to you, arms crossed over his chest. “We still have to walk to the stadium.”
“Caleb.” You sighed, closing and then locking the car door before sticking your keys into the small bag you’d bought specifically for games. “We’re here. We’re parked. The stadium is right there.” Pointing with one finger, you raised a brow and grinned. “The parking lot is only half full, and we’ve already got seats, so -”
“Yeah, but we’re going to miss warm ups and the pregame.” He rolled his eyes, turning away from you and heading toward the ballpark. “And those are the best parts.”
You agreed, but for a very different reason than the twelve year old you were with.
You’d been to games with him and Erin before. You and your friend sat a few rows back while the pre-teen hurried down to field level, a baseball and a pen clutched in one hand, hoping to meet at least one of the players after they’d finished warming up and stretching.
From your vantage point, the two of you had been free to whisper about the players - pointing out the way their uniforms fit, discussing whether or not their asses were in mid-season form yet, or even commenting on the stretches they chose to warm up with before the game. Typically, you didn’t have a thing for men in uniform - but baseball pants were a different story.
You loved the game, and had been visiting The Distillery - your local team’s home park - since you were a child, attending games with your family and friends and even dates as the years passed. Baseball games were the perfect summer activity no matter who you were with, and that was even true when your company was the younger brother of your best friend… and the game wasn’t a Major League competition.
“She’s got the tickets.” He made the announcement when you reached the gates, the boy pointing back over his shoulder at you. “Two of them.” You smiled at the attendant, sliding your unzipped bag across the table so she could search it, and then returned your eyes to Caleb. He’d already removed his ballcap and the wallet he carried, pushing them forward and stepping through the metal detector.
“He’s excited, hmm?”
“Yeah.” Letting her scan the ticket barcodes, you laughed. “He really is.” Caleb waited for you to follow him through the turnstiles, his hat flipped backwards on his head, and you could see the impatience on his face. “Caleb, do you want to get something to eat before we -”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not yet. Before the game starts, but …” He glanced over his shoulder and you looked down at the field, where the grounds crew were still getting everything ready. “Can we go down there? I want to try and meet him. He’s playing today. They said it on the news.”
“Go.” Your smile widened, head moving up and down in a nod. “I’m right behind you, kid.”
Caleb took off running toward the stairs that led down toward the third base line, and you followed him slowly, taking your time and eyeing the seating situation. There were people already waiting; a handful of kids and their parents, along with a few women that looked to be your age or a little younger, but there were still plenty of seats open adjacent to the field.
You sat closer than you normally would have, deciding to take a seat in the row directly behind the boy. Just in case. For the next ten minutes, you paid no attention to the field, instead scrolling through social media and waiting, the music pumping through the speakers fading to background noise as you mindlessly browsed and clicked ‘like’ on a few posts.
You also let Erin know that you’d made it to the game, and that Caleb was exactly where he wanted to be. But when you glanced up, ready to take a picture to send to her, you were distracted by the sight of the team taking the field. Caleb was too, the boy bouncing up and down in place as he leaned forward, resting his hands on the low wall in front of him.
You watched for a few minutes - eyeing the players as they did their sprints and stretches, your lips twisting into a small smile at the sight of some of them utilizing their trainers for extra resistance during a few of the exercises. “He’s not here.” Caleb turned back to look at you, disappointment on his face. “Why isn’t he here?”
“Maybe he’ll come out late.” You shrugged, still looking at the field. “You never know, kiddo. You said he’s in the lineup, right?”
“Yeah.” He turned back to the field, leaning forward. “They talked on the radio about how he was coming back today, because they want him to back in Louisville by the end of next week, and -” Caleb stopped mid sentence, straightening up. “There he is!”
You couldn’t help it, your attention snapping in the direction that he was pointing. Sure enough, Jack Daniels and one of the trainers - a woman with short, dark hair and glasses - were taking the field to a low chorus of cheers, many of them coming from the section you were sitting in. There he is.
Despite yourself, you leaned forward to watch him, staring as Jack began his warm up. He started with a few stretches - knee hugs and focusing on his quads, carefully extending and testing his arms, and then bent forward at the waist, the man almost able to press his palms flat against the ground without bending his knees.
You didn’t take your eyes off of him, because like Caleb, one of the reasons you liked going to the Statesman games was looking at Jack Daniels. And there’s so much to look at.
The trainer watched him closely as he continued to warm up, speeding up his movements and then doing a series of static stretches. But when Jack started to do lunges, you actively fought back a groan, settling against the backrest of your seat and chewing on your lower lip. That’s hot as fuck.
He looked healthy, and you were happy to see it, because the truth was that the Statesman needed him to be. “He didn’t warm up yesterday.” You turned your head toward the voice, watching as another woman next to you stared at Jack, her smile wide. “He stretched a little, and took batting practice, but he didn’t warm up.”
“Oh, you were here yesterday, too?” She nodded, and when you glanced back at the field, you saw that Jack and the trainer had switched to more arm exercises, warming up the muscles of his upper body.
“He pinch hit late in the game.” She leaned forward, her smile widening as she watched Jack start arm circles, the trainer standing a few feet away from him with her arms crossed. “So I knew he’d play today. And that’s why I’m here.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Gonna shoot my shot when he comes over here to sign for the kids. Why not, right? We both know he goes for it sometimes.”
The girl was pretty - and definitely dressed to get his attention. She wore one of his t-shirts artfully slashed to show off her cleavage and had her legs on display in a pair of cutoff denim shorts. Good for her. “Yeah, why not.” You smiled, turning your head away from where the players were sprinting into the outfield and back to give her your full attention. “Even if he’ll be back in Louisville pretty soon, you might as well. See what happens.”
“It’s only 40 minutes away.” She shrugged, looking out and pointing at where the man was laying on the field, one knee bent and his other ankle resting against the top of it. The trainer was applying extra resistance, and you hummed in approval as you watched. I wish I was that trainer. “I’d drive there if I needed to.”
Her eagerness didn’t surprise you. Jack was a notably eligible bachelor, and one of the most desirable men on the team. Unlike the others, though, he didn’t often publicly date. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hook up. And … You returned your attention to the field, watching as he stopped to talk to the woman, pointing at the front of his left shoulder and grinning. And I’m sure he’s got his pick in every city he visits.
“Oh, I think they’re coming over now.”
She adjusted her shirt and you watched her posture change, the woman’s shoulders straightening and her smile widening. Instead of staring at Jack’s strut toward the seats, you looked at Caleb. The boy was buzzing with excitement as he turned toward where the man was headed - about ten people to your left, where a small crowd had gathered. “Do you think he’ll come over?” Caleb said your name, frowning. “There’s not much time, and -”
“He will.” You leaned in, reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re wearing one of his shirts, right? He’s gotta stop for you.” Caleb grinned, turning back toward the field, though he kept his head turned to the left.
You watched Jack then, smiling as he interacted with the fans. He signed autographs and posed for a few pictures, his smile genuine. But you noticed that he was really only focused on the kids and teenagers, spending more than a few seconds with them instead of moving along as quickly as was politely possible the way he did with adults. He took pictures with a few women, the man leaning in but keeping both hands behind his back. He puts his hands on the kids’ shoulders, but doesn’t touch the women… interesting.
“Keep your phone out. I’m gonna need you to take a picture.” Caleb was excited, the boy happier than you ever remembered seeing him. You laughed but did as he asked, leaning to the right and angling the phone so that you could snap a picture of the two of them, though Jack was barely in the frame.
The girl next to you leaned forward when he was only a person or two away, and then seemed to second guess that decision. You bit back a laugh as she stood and climbed over the seats, standing next to Caleb and effectively blocking your view of the man on the field. Gee, thanks.
He finished with the little girl that he’d been speaking to, handing her back a signed baseball and a pen, and then took a step to the side and in front of the woman, saying hello.
Clearly hearing his voice in person shocked you - the man’s accent thick, even in the few words he spoke. You desperately wished that you could see him, but you didn’t want to shift in your seat and draw attention to yourself. I’ll see him when he talks to Caleb.
“I heard you were playing and had to come today.” She leaned forward, fingertips resting against the wall. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”
“Yeah?” He laughed, reaching up to pull his hat off and then set it back down on his head, taking a few seconds to think. You caught a glimpse of the bullseye tattoo on his hand, biting down on your lower lip at the sight. “Well thank you for comin’ out. It’s good to be back on the field.” The woman giggled and then held her phone up, tilting her head to the side.
“Can we get a picture? I’ll tag you in it on Instagram, and -”
“Sure.” You watched as the woman spun around and then leaned backwards, holding her phone up to take a selfie. “Hope it’s a good one.” He smiled, peering at the phone from over her shoulder, and you fought back a roll of your eyes at how wide and practiced her smile was - the woman’s head cocked to the side - and toward his.
When she straightened up, he took a half step toward Caleb, already tipping his head down and toward the boy. But the woman spoke up before he could fully move on, reaching out to touch his arm. “Thank you, Jack. You have no idea how much I -” He flinched - just barely, but you saw it, his shoulder jerking back slightly as her fingertips made contact.
“No problem. Thank you, and enjoy the game.” She stiffened, but you didn’t focus on that. You turned your attention to the boy in front of you - and in turn, Jack, whose face split into a grin, the man’s dimple on display, even beneath the shade from the brim of his hat. “Well hi there. I’m Jack, what’s your name?”
“Caleb.” He leaned forward and you opened your camera app again, your smile widening, too. Caleb’s going to be so excited later. “I had tickets to see you play in Louisville and then you got hurt and I didn’t know if you’d be back this season but then my mom bought me tickets for today after I found out you were going to play again, and so we drove all the way here -”
“Slow down there, big guy.” Jack laughed, giving you a glimpse of his teeth, and then gestured to Caleb’s hand, the boy holding a Sharpie tightly. “You want me to sign somethin’ for you?”
“Yeah. This ticket, please.” Caleb held the marker out, looking up at Jack. “And I’ve got your jersey, but it was too hot to wear it today, so I picked this t-shirt instead.”
“Of course I will.” He nodded, taking the Sharpie and the paper, scrawling his name across the front of it. “Turn around and I’ll sign real big on the number on the back.” Caleb spun around and you were thrilled to see that he was almost delirious with excitement, his eyes wide and his smile nearly splitting his face in two.
“Can I take a picture of you signing for him?” Jack glanced up at the sound of your voice, his smile faltering for a split second and a confused look passing over his features. “I didn’t want to just do it and have the flash go off, and…”
“Go right ahead.” He smiled again, giving you a nod. “Thank you for askin’.” It only took a few seconds for him to sign, but you took multiple pictures, and then as Jack capped the marker, you decided to speak up again, not wanting to make Caleb ask.
“And can I get one of the two of you looking at the camera before he turns around again?’
“You’ve already got your phone out.” Jack smirked at you, and then reached up to tilt the brim of his hat back, showing you more of his face. Holy shit, look at him. “I’m more’n happy to take a picture with my new buddy Caleb.”
You couldn’t help smiling at that, and when Jack settled his hand - the Sharpie poking out from between his fingers - against the boy’s shoulder and squeezed, it widened. “Got it.” You lowered the device, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ at Jack at the same time Caleb spoke them out loud, turning back to face the man.
There were only two more kids to the right of you waiting to talk to Jack, but before moving to them, he hesitated, looking between you and the boy. “Where are you and your mom sitting today, Caleb?” Mom? Do I really look like -
“She’s not my mom, she’s my sister’s friend. And we’re over there.” He pointed at the outfield. “Somewhere.” Why is he asking?
“The section right at the end of the dugout.” Jack pointed, but looked directly at you. “First row. Aisle seats, 23 and 24. They’re mine, and if you want ‘em, today they’re yours.”
“What? Jack, that -”
“I’ve gotta go.” He nodded, looking at Caleb and grinning, and then back at you, his smile softening. “Enjoy the game.” He didn’t say anything else before he stepped down the field and then stopped to talk to the other kids waiting. What the fuck just … “That was so cool!” Caleb spun back to look at you, his eyes wide. “He signed my shirt and took a picture with me and now we get to sit in his seats, and -”
“Caleb.” You took a breath, still trying to process what had happened in the previous few minutes. “I don’t -”
“We’re going to sit in them, right?” You didn’t know how to answer him. Should we? You sighed and then looked to your right, watching as Jack signed a baseball and handed it back to a little girl before laughing with an older man that was with her. “I mean he told us to, and -”
“I definitely would.” The girl next to you spoke up, and when you looked over, you saw that she was jealous, her eyes narrowed as they looked you over. “Do you know him? Is that -”
“I’ve never spoken to that man before just now.” You shrugged, unsure of what else to say. “I have no idea what … or why, or …” You would have been lying if you’d said that no part of you was a little smug at the fact that he’d offered the seats to you and not to her, but you didn’t want to be that woman. “He must have liked you, Caleb.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Whatever. I’ll just see him after the game at the players’ parking lot.” She stood then, but didn’t say anything else before she spun away from you and headed down the row and toward the aisle.
Caleb watched her go, his head tilted to one side.“What crawled up her butt?” You snorted at his question but there was no way you could give him an actual answer - so you gave him a partial one.
“She’s probably just sad that you get to have a great view of the game tonight, kiddo.” With a sigh, you stood up, sliding your phone back into your bag and zipping it. You looked at Jack, watching as he said goodbye to the last of the fans and then headed for the dugout.
But he didn’t go straight there - instead, he stopped and spoke to one of the security guards, pointing at the stands. Oh, he’s… And then you were stunned when both men looked back in your direction, Jack raising one arm to point at you while nodding. The security guard caught your eye and nodded too, and you then watched as Jack gently smacked him on the arm and smiled again, finally turning away to disappear back into the dugout.
“Can we go and see the seats? And can I get french fries? Will you send the picture to my mom? And Erin? And -” He was excited - and you couldn’t blame him - but you still laughed, gesturing for Caleb to follow you down the row and toward the opposite aisle, closer to your new seats.
“Yeah. We’ll do all that. Let’s go.”
There was plenty of room for the two of you to walk to where Jack had indicated, and when you got close, the same security guard that Jack had spoken to stepped forward, gesturing with one hand. “You’re right here tonight.”
You thanked him, letting Caleb choose which seat he wanted, and when you dropped into the remaining one, you pulled your phone out again as the boy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the back of the wall in front of him.
You had just enough time to send off a few quick texts to Erin - the pictures of Caleb and Jack, as well as one that you took from the seat and a message that said we got upgraded, I’ll explain later before the National Anthem started.
You rose to your feet again, keeping your eyes on the field. Once the music faded and the announcer began to give the starting lineups, you were excited, your smile just as wide as Caleb’s.
And when they announced Jack and the man trotted out onto the field to even more cheers from the crowd, you clapped along with them, pulse quickening. I love watching him play.
He and the shortstop tossed a ball back and forth a few times while the pitcher made his way from the bullpen, and the grin never left the dark haired man’s face. By the time the ump signaled the start of the game, he was settled in place and standing a little behind the bag, knees spread and both hands resting on his thighs.
It took a few batters for him to see any action, and when you heard the crack of the bat, Jack sprung into motion, moving toward second and bending over to scoop the ball off the infield before tossing it to first for the out.
You cheered just as loudly as Caleb did, clapping your hands without looking away from the field - but you weren’t expecting to catch Jack’s eye when he turned to move back into place at third… and you definitely weren’t expecting him to grin at the sight of you.
The moment was over quickly, and as the players ran off the field after the third out, you turned to Caleb, clearing your throat. “You said you wanted fries?”
—
You made it back to your seats just in time to watch the bottom of the second, both of you carrying a drink and a snack. Jack was batting 8th, so there was a good chance he wouldn’t hit until the next inning, giving you time to eat before he headed to the plate.
You also checked your messages, a series of exclamation points from Erin and a thumbs up from her mother the only two you had waiting. You showed Caleb, the boy laughing and then scrolling up to look at the picture of him and Jack, his smile so broad that you thought it must have hurt.
There were no seats in front of you, which meant that you had an unobstructed view when the man finally headed to the plate, the familiar sound of his walkup music - Hungry Like The Wolf - blaring through the stadium’s speakers. Here we go. C’mon, Jack.
He took a few practice swings and you were relieved to see that he didn’t wince or hesitate. His swing looked comfortable, and when you leaned forward, resting your hands on your knees, you nodded as he took another, pointing the bat outward before settling it on his shoulder and waiting.
He swung at the first two pitches, making contact on the second one and hitting a long foul down the first base line. But Jack ended up walking, taking his place on first and then getting into position as the catcher stepped to the plate.
You watched him closely - taking in the way the dark blue jersey fit him, the V of upper chest skin - and a peek of the gold chain he wore - visible thanks to two of the buttons being undone, his socks pulled high to accentuate his muscled calves. He always looks fucking great.
You knew it meant nothing that he’d offered you and Caleb his seats that day - that he’d just done it to be nice. But you would have been lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t make you feel good, Jack’s momentary attention a confidence boost, especially after the reception he’d given the woman next to you.
The batter hit a single, and when Jack advanced to second and stopped, you cheered again, the man clapping his hands and shouting something that you couldn’t hear at his teammate. But it was all for nothing, because the following player popped out, ending the inning.
Jack trotted across the field and toward the dugout, the disappointment on his face evident - but again, when he saw you he smiled, the expression only there briefly … though you certainly didn’t miss it.
As you settled back against the seat, halfway listening to Caleb as he recounted team stats, you wondered why Jack was making so much of an effort when nothing would come of it. You thought of the woman’s comment about the players lot, wondering just how likely it was that you’d be able to meet him if you went, too. But not with Caleb here.
The night would be a good memory at least - for both you and the boy, and that would have to be enough.
By the time Jack stepped to the plate, you were more than ready. The setting sun shaded the sky in hues of orange and purple, the stadium’s lights brightening up the field. Your eyes flicked from where Jack stood to the scoreboard, scanning over the information about him that was displayed there and lingering on the giant image of his smiling face.
But when you heard the groan of the crowd, your attention snapped back to home plate, where Jack was arguing with the umpire over the previous call, his head shaking back and forth. He stepped back into the box, but you could see his irritation, though it didn’t last for long.
He swung on the next pitch and made contact again, sending the ball straight through between first and second. It rolled halfway into the outfield before anyone got to it, and you got to your feet and cheered, the sound signaling that a run scored loud through the speakers. Not only had he gotten his first hit after the injury, but he’d batted someone in, giving the Cavalry the lead.
And when the next player swung hard, sending the ball up and out and over the center field wall, the stadium erupted - Jack raising his arm and pumping his fist as he rounded third, before stopping to wait for his teammate to make it home. They celebrated for a few seconds and then off the field, and you slung an arm around Caleb as both of you cheered, too.
They took a three run lead into the next inning, and then handled their business, setting the batters down 1-2-3 thanks to a double play that Jack initiated. You could see his confidence in every movement; his body remembering exactly what he needed to do to be successful on the field even after weeks away. And he’s good at it, too. That makes a difference.
Caleb left the seats to fill up his cup from the fountain at the top of your section, and by the time he came back the game had started again. It was a productive inning. You spent more of it on your feet than sitting, joining the crowd in cheering as the Cavalry scored three more runs. But when Jack’s turn to bat came, you realized what the celebration meant.
“They took him out.” You looked down at Caleb, watching as he frowned. “They’ve got such a lead, that it’s better to rest him, and …”
“That’s stupid.” Caleb crossed his arms, sighing. “He only batted twice.” You agreed, but you also weren’t the manager of a baseball team. You figured he had a better idea of what the right strategy was when it came to Jack’s rehab … even if it did disappoint you that you wouldn’t get to see him at the plate or on the field again.
The rest of the game went by quickly, and though they gave up a few runs, your team ended up winning handily. Caleb requested to stay and watch the on-field celebration after, and as the players lined up for high fives and handshakes before leaving for the locker room, you focused, too. Maybe he’ll come back out for a second.
It was stupid and you knew it, but the moment the field emptied, it meant that the night - and the experience in Jack’s seats - was over… and you didn’t want it to be.
He took his place in line - still wearing his uniform but without his hat - and you watched as he greeted the other players, smiling and laughing with them as they interacted. You couldn’t hear him, but you could tell he was happy, and that made you smile, too. Maybe he really will be back in Louisville by next week.
The handshakes ended, and when Jack headed back toward the dugout, he didn’t look in your direction again - until right before he made it to the top of the steps.
It was then that he stopped, eyeing the seats until he saw the two of you. You tried not to react, but Caleb didn’t hide his response; the boy raising his hand and waving wildly. Jack laughed at the sight of it, lifting one of his hands in a wave, too.
You thought that was it, but then his head turned just enough that he made direct eye contact with you.
Even from the distance, you could see one side of his mouth lift into a half smile as he nodded, raising one hand and touching the tips of his fingers to his temple before tipping them toward you. Your smile grew and you nodded in return, but before you could do anything else, Jack disappeared into the dugout, leaving the two of you standing in front of the seats.
Well that was something. Biting your lip and letting out a breath through your nose, you turned your attention toward Caleb, saying his name. “Alright, kiddo. We’re going to go to the bathroom before we head out, because I am not stopping twenty minutes into the drive to let you pee.”
—
You’d expected Caleb to talk your ear off the entire drive home. Instead, he fell asleep before you made it back to the highway, leaving you with your thoughts on the drive back.
And you would have been lying if you said that most of those thoughts weren’t of Jack.
The interaction with him had been limited, sure. But it had been meaningful in more than one way, for both you and Caleb. He had a cool story that he could tell his friends, and pictures that he could show them. You’d look back on the way his gaze on you had felt and remember the thrill of being on the receiving end of one of his bright smiles.
You didn’t know him any more than any other person that had ever seen him play or interacted with him briefly, but that didn’t matter. Even if you never spoke to him again, and never saw him in any capacity aside from on the field, you’d have that night as a memory. And a damn good one.
After dropping Caleb off and promising Erin a recap the following day, you drove the short distance to your house and parked in the driveway, turning the car off and enjoying the silence for a few seconds before unbuckling your seatbelt.
Your house was quiet and dark as you moved through it, leaving your shoes and bag by the front door and grabbing your phone before heading upstairs. You tossed that onto your bed and went into the bathroom, scrubbing your face and changing into your pajamas before staring at your reflection in the mirror.
You’d been single for six months, and though you’d talked to a few men through the same dating app Erin had used to meet Troy, none of the conversations had led anywhere past the first awkward meetings. It wasn’t that the men weren’t interested, it was you that was selective, opting not to waste your time with anyone that reminded you of the time you’d spent with your most recent ex.
You knew that you were being picky, but you were content with that knowledge, even if it meant a longer period of being on your own before you found the right person. And Jack couldn’t ever be the right person. You wrinkled your nose while you brushed your teeth, still watching yourself in the mirror. Because he’s been consistently single for his entire career.
Jack kept much of his personal life private, but Janie was the exception to that.
And after climbing into bed and plugging your phone in, you searched their names, refreshing your memory of the story that you’d become familiar with when The Statesman had first drafted Jack.
They’d been high school sweethearts, opting to go to college together. He was going to play ball and major in engineering, and her chosen field was communications. It was clear from all of the pictures of the two of them you found that though they were young, they were in love.
Everything had gone well for the first few months; Jack and Janie settled in on campus, started classes and began making friends. They’d come home together for Christmas, and Jack was set to begin baseball in January with the rest of the team.
But only a few weeks into the pre-season, the unthinkable happened: Janie stopped at a convenience store to buy coffee on her way to meet her study group off campus while Jack was at a team workout, and was caught in the middle of a robbery. She hadn’t even made it to the hospital, and Jack had considered quitting the team due to his grief.
Her parents had convinced him otherwise - reminding him that he’d worked hard for years to get to where he was, and that she wouldn’t have wanted him to give up on his dreams on her account. His parents had agreed, though there were interviews where they admitted that they would have understood if he’d chosen to take a break or even quit outright.
And Jack had taken a few weeks off, but was ready to go on opening day, dedicating his season to Janie and her family. He was a skilled player, there was no question about it, but the coverage of a D1 athlete losing his girlfriend in such a shocking manner helped draw attention to the man and his performance, and it hadn’t taken him long to grab the attention of scouts.
He’d had some attention in high school, too, though nothing had panned out - aside from the offer of a partial athletic scholarship. That all changed in his sophomore year when everyone really took notice of his exceptionally high fielding percentage and his infectious enthusiasm toward his teammates.
Jack declared for the draft that was to take place a month after finishing his junior year - only days after his 21st birthday, and The Statesman had taken him with the fourth overall pick in the first round.
The rest was history.
He’d played with The Cavalry for almost four seasons before getting his first call-up, and though it had been toward the end of the regular season, Jack had received an invite to Spring Training the following year … and he’d never gone back.
In his second season with The Statesman, he’d been named the starting shortstop, making a name for himself with both his agility and personality. His teammates loved him. The community loved him. The cameras loved him, and in the five seasons he’d played in his original position, he earned two gold gloves and got voted into the All-Star Game once.
But he was injury prone, and after careful consideration, they moved Jack from shortstop to third base. It was an adjustment period for everyone involved, though after a few years of playing the position, it seemed almost natural for him, and there were fewer injuries.
Until earlier that season, anyway, when Jack had misjudged a slide into second and jammed his shoulder, spraining a muscle and knocking him out of all baseball activities for weeks. He’d gone on the 60 day injured list, though you’d seen him at more than a few games in the dugout before he’d headed down to rehab with The Cavalry.
He was lucky he hadn’t needed surgery, and even luckier that there’d been no complications with his healing. According to the newest articles you read as you scrolled online that night, Caleb was correct and the team was aiming to have Jack re-activated by the following weekend so that he could finish the final 7 weeks of the season in the majors. Which is where he deserves to be.
You sighed and rolled onto your side, eyes still on the screen - and on a picture of Jack that had been taken a week or two earlier during a Statesman season ticket holder event. He was grinning from behind the bar, one hand holding a glass and the other pulling on a tap to pour someone a drink.
“Enough.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand. Doing a deep dive on Jack wasn’t going to change anything, even if it was keeping you occupied as you wound down for the night.
But before you put the phone down and rolled in the opposite direction, you couldn’t help opening his instagram page and checking his tagged photos, just to see if the woman from next to you had posted the picture like she said she would.
There were countless pictures of Jack in his uniform posted - everything from on-field screenshots to pictures of him with his teammates and family - but those were dotted with more personal ones; people tagging him in photos of themselves, edited photos, or photos of Jack alone that had been taken from other sources. You didn’t have far to scroll before you found the picture of Jack and the woman, tapping it with one finger to make it bigger.
She’d put more than one filter on it, smoothing out her features and his, and when you zoomed in on it, you wrinkled your nose. Why would you filter him? He doesn’t need it. Even with the filtering, you could see the bored look in Jack’s eyes, his smile small and tight. Not like it was with Caleb.
She’d captioned the picture with a black and a yellow heart bracketing the number 7, and it already had more than a few likes. She also had a story, and even though you knew that she’d be able to see who viewed it, you didn’t care, hesitating for only a second before tapping on it.
The girl - whose name was Brittany - had posted a few times throughout the game; pictures from in her seat, a video of Jack walking up to the plate, her grinning at the camera at the end of the game with the scoreboard behind her… but the final story post was clearly a picture of a parking lot with a tall fence around it, and what looked like a security guard in the corner. She went to the lot.
You sighed, backing out of the story - and her profile - and going back to Jack’s, eyes lingering on his account’s picture. You followed him, and had for years - liking and commenting on the pictures he posted as well as tagging him and the other players in the occasional ones you’d taken at games. He’d never replied or acknowledged them in any way, though.
And he won’t, you admitted to yourself as you closed out of the app and opened your alarm, making sure that it was set. “Good luck, Jack.” Closing your eyes after setting the device down on your bedside table, you rolled away from it and got comfortable. As you settled in, you let your thoughts wander back to earlier - to the way Jack’s eyes had warmed when he’d smiled at you, and the way his smile had widened when he saw you and Caleb sitting in his seats.
You would have been lying if you’d said that the memories didn’t make you feel good. It didn’t matter that he’d likely smiled at hundreds of others in the same way. He’d made the night special for you and for Caleb, and that was the important thing.
It didn’t take you long to fall asleep - and Jack followed you into your dreams… which you didn’t mind at all.
—
You didn’t have a meeting until 10:30 the following morning and so you slept in a little, taking a shower and getting dressed before you even checked your messages.
There were a few from Erin, asking for details, and you promised you’d reach out once you had a break. But before then, you needed to focus and settled in in front of your laptop, clicking open your first email of the day. Back at it.
You worked steadily until almost 1 PM, checking things off of your to-do list and scheduling a second consultation with the same client for the end of the following week. You typically worked virtually - and had since your uncle had hired you a few years prior - but there were occasional accounts that required your presence in person. And this one’s going to be one of them.
That wasn’t an issue. Their offices were located in New Orleans, and you were looking forward to potentially spending a few paid days in the city. But we’ll see.
While you waited for your lunch to heat, you called Erin, your friend picking up on the second ring and groaning into your ear. “Whatever happened yesterday must have been incredible because Caleb hasn’t shut up since he woke up this morning.”
“It was pretty great, Erin,” Taking a seat at your kitchen table, you laughed. “I sent him the pictures, did he -”
“He’s already set the one of him and Jack as his phone background. And he’s been bugging me to take him to get them printed.” You weren’t surprised; Caleb loved baseball, and the opportunity that he’d had at the game the previous night had likely meant the world to him. “So how did that happen? He just offered you the tickets?”
“Pretty much. He stopped to sign for Caleb, and just out of nowhere, asked where we were sitting.” You wet your lips, laughing. “And then once he knew we were in the outfield seats, he just … pointed at the dugout and told us that we could sit in his instead.”
“He offered them to Caleb? Or to -”
“Well… sort of.” You stood, looking out your back window. “He asked your brother where we were sitting but he was looking at me when he offered the tickets…” You pulled your food out of the microwave and set it down to cool. “And then when we were in the seats, he made eye contact with me a couple times, but -”
“How hot is he up close?” You snorted, but she continued. “Because that picture of him and Caleb? That man’s hand is -”
“Really hot.” Humming in agreement, you reached for a fork. “And he seemed really nice, too. Paid more attention to the kids than to the adults. There was this girl sitting next to us and she was clearly trying to catch his eye, but he barely looked at her.” You figured that he was a professional and wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize his reputation while on the field - and in front of younger fans. But still. She made it obvious. “He was polite, but he was just … going through the motions.”
She hummed again, the sound non-committal as you took your first bite. “But not with you. And not with Caleb.” No, I guess not. “You should post those pictures and tag him.”
“Erin, I’m not trying to -”
“No, just hear me out. Maybe he’ll see them. And maybe he’ll remember you. And maybe he’ll -”
“Erin, come on. That’s a fantasy. I’m sure he’s got a million people tagging him every day. He won’t even see it if I do.”
“You never know. It can’t hurt.” She said your name, the tone teasing. “And since Caleb’s account is private since he’s twelve, it makes sense you’d post ‘em for him. He really had a lot of fun with you. He’s already asking if you want to go to a game again.”
“Yeah. There’s still a little over a month left this season, so I’m sure we can figure out a weekend to see the Statesman. I’ll third wheel with you and Troy.” She laughed at that, agreeing. “I’m going to go, though. I need to eat. I have to run and analyze metrics for two campaigns this afternoon, and it’s going to take forever.”
You hung up soon after, but as you ate, you contemplated what she’d said about posting the pictures. It was really no different than any of the other games you’d been to or posted about. You’d taken pictures that weren’t of Jack, and those could go up, too. Why not post the one of him and Caleb? It’s a good picture.
After sending the final email for the day, you shut your laptop and changed into more comfortable clothes before stretching out on the couch. You needed to go to the store, but figured it could wait til later … and you had pictures to post.
You chose five of them - one of the field from the concourse, one of the scoreboard, a picture from the seats, and then two of Jack and Caleb - one while he was signing and the other of them looking at the camera, which you made the main image. Choosing a caption was harder than picking the pictures themselves, but you finally opted for something extremely neutral: First @The_Cavalry game of the season. Great game, even better seats, and @CalebOnBase got to meet his favorite player.
You tagged the picture - adding Jack and The Statesman’s accounts - and thought about adding one of Jack’s walk up songs to the post. No. That looks too desperate. So you posted it without, taking one final look at the images - and lingering on Jack’s smile - before you checked the Cavalry’s account to see if they’d posted that night’s lineup.
Jack was starting again, but instead of being in at 3rd, he was the designated hitter. So he’ll get to bat, but can save his arm. It made sense, and you figured that if all went well, he’d only play in a game or two more before being called back up to the majors. And he’ll be back here. It made you smile, and the expression widened when you got a comment on the post from Caleb - four baseballs and the thumbs up emoji.
You’d done your part, and that was that. Caleb could see that you’d posted the photos, and if by chance Jack saw the tag, he’d also see that you appreciated the seats he’d allowed you to sit in. With one final look at the pictures, you nodded and then sat up, sighing.
“Alright. Grocery shopping’s not going to do itself.”
—
You were stunned the next afternoon when you got an alert that The Cavalry tagged you in a story, and didn’t even try to hold back your grin when you saw that they’d reposted your pictures. You got a comment from their account a few seconds later - Glad you had a great time, thanks for coming! - the words accompanied by a blue heart and a baseball.
After sending the link to Erin so that she could show her brother, you set your phone down, returning to the work you were doing. You stayed busy throughout the rest of the day, and even though your phone kept lighting up with new alerts - strangers liking the pictures and commenting on your post, it didn’t break your focus.
And by the following day, things were pretty much back to normal. The story was gone, strangers weren’t still finding your profile, and you’d opted to work for most of Saturday morning to get ahead, which meant that you could take Monday off. And I can take a nap. I haven’t been able to do that in weeks.
You pulled the drapes shut and then climbed into bed, the darkened room helping you to relax much faster than you anticipated. There was no need to set an alarm, and so you didn’t, figuring that you’d wake up on your own when you got hungry… which you did, just after 6 PM. Maybe I’ll order food. I don’t feel like cooking.
You stretched, pointing your toes, and then reached for your phone, mentally flipping through restaurant options. But you froze with the device in front of your face as the screen lit up, eyes zeroing in on the alert in the center of it.
Whiskey_Jack7 liked your post
---
#jack daniels#agent whiskey#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character#agent whiskey x female reader#baseball jack#jack daniels baseball au#kingsman au#kingsman: tgs#kingsman the golden circle#jack daniels masterlist#pedro pascal masterlist#on deck#on deck masterlist
91 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ok so Deathslinger, Bubba, Ghostface and Michael with a survivor who yells “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” at them while they’re (the survivor) being chased by them (the killer) if that makes sense
Sorry this took so long!! this is my first time writing for the DBD killers so i hope i do them some justice!!
Stretch for DBD survivor when
DBD Killers x GN!Survior
not beta read
Deathslinger
He just wouldn’t get off your ass the entire match.
At the very beginning he was chasing Dwight before he spotted you at a nearby generator before dropping chase and picking it up with you. Weaving in between trees, ducking behind covers, even hiding in a locker never deterred this cowboy from going after you. You weren’t fully paying attention but you think you’ve heard 3 generators pop already, you were surprised you ran him for this long without getting shot or hit.
You chest hurt from how hard your heart was beating and your legs were starting to feel like lead as you ran around the Rotten Fields trying to loose the tall hulking cowboy in the corn. You weren’t even the obsession, he had so many opportunities to shoot you but it almost seemed like he missed on purpose.
You were getting a little fed up honestly.
Turning your head around to look at him aiming down his gun you yelled out to him, “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid, cowboy!!”
Now that seemed to catch him off guard. Caleb Quinn let out a horse wheeze of a laugh before white hot pain exploded in your stomach. He shot you.
You grabbed onto the harpoon like metal in your abdomen, trying to struggle against the chain as he wound up the gun to bring you closer. You grunted in pain as the tall cowboy pulled you closer to him. You couldn’t break free before you were inches away from him. Part of you thinks you fucked up by teasing him, but another part of you was relieved the chase would finally end.
You prepared to feel the barbed metal rip out of you and a slash across your chest but none came, instead his large hand came down to grip on the spear, effectively holding you in place close to him. You stared up at the massive man, his glowing white eyes bore into your sole it felt like before he pulled you closer by the metal in your stomach and leaned down to put his face in your own. Whips of grey white hair tickled your face as he looked at you with a shit eating grin on his face. You would have been blushing if all the blood wasn’t leaking out of your abdomen.
“So what if I do?” His voice was a tad raspy, it held a slight irish accent mixed with one of a western cowboy, you didn’t expect him to have a voice like that but you also don’t know what you expected him to sound like.
This was the first time you were this close to the man, and as you took in his features you realized he was a handsome man, large scar and all. You two stared at each other for what felt like a minute before he ripped the barbed spear out of your guts and he smacked you with the butt end of his gun making you fall to the ground.
You don’t know if you fucked up by teasing him but you definitely had a new problem now.
The Cannibal 
You could hear that chainsaw a mile away. You sighed as you got started putting wires together on a generator in Father Campbell’s Chapel. It had been quiet for quiet some time as you almost finished the generator, but you spoke too soon because a bleeding Meg ran past you and you began to hear heavy footsteps follow her up the stairs.
You lost your focus on the generator escaped you as it exploded in your face. Meg was already gone and now you had Bubba on your tail as you ran and jumped out the window. Barely a grunt came out of you as you landed on the ground, a two story fall was nothing but a little ache on your ankles, the Entity worked in weird ways. You turned to your left and ran your way to the killers shack, behind you you could hear the man’s chainsaw rev up.
You knew this killer was from a movie back in your own world before the Entity took you in its hard grasp, you barely remember the franchise of movies due to the Entity but every time you saw Bubba running around the map you had this flash of a memory in your head, where he’s in a radio station being distracted by a woman, her legs spread and his chainsaw running against her inner thigh. He spared her then, and you wondered if you could fluster him and use that tactic against him.
You entered the shack with an idea in your mind, he set off his chainsaw and swung it around, barely missing you as you ducked into the shack before the last swing hit you. You did your best to run him out the other door and before he could get out you slammed the pallet down on top of him. He let out a squealing sound as he tried to recover from the stun. This was all going to plan.
“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” You stood in place on the other side of the pallet, your entire body told you to run but you went against it.
He straightened out his posture for a second, he looked like you just flash banged him, the skinned face on his own covered any reaction you could gauge but you assumed he was a little shocked as he wasn’t revving his chainsaw to knock the pallet into splinters.
A small gasp like sound came from him, his posture looked conflicted on what to do in this situation and you had a voice in the back of your head wondering if you made him uncomfortable. But you doubled down on your words and gave him a wink.
That seemed to knock him out of what ever kind of spell he was in, and he made a loud chocked squeak and grabbed his yellow bloodstained apron with one hand and moved it to cover his already hidden face. You did it. You flustered the man.
He dropped the apron and turned around, he looked back at you and made a sound before leaving the shack.
You watched him as he left, and you don’t think you could admit this to any other survivor by the campfire but that man was very cute and his reaction to a simple little dumb statement made your mind change it’s opinion on him.
Ghostface
You hated the Hospital. The layout was confusing, you could never find a generator, and there were too many spots a killer could hide from view. Certain killers could use that to their advantage, and one killer in particular did.
Ghostface was a mortal enemy of yours. He would always single you out every match no matter if you were the obsession or not, it was kind of your own fault for it if you were being honest. The first time you met him you made a horror movie reference and he’s been hooked on you ever since, now he chases you around every time he sees you make horror movie quips back and forth before he hooks you and leaves you for dead. He made you hurt. He tore through your flesh in a way no other killer did, he left you sore after trials when normally you were patched up and fine. He was ruthless with you
You were working on the generator in the center of the building, it wasn’t safe as it was out in the open but it was the easiest generator to find on the map. You spotted movement out of the corner of your eye, a black shadow dodged behind a door frame and it settled in your mind of who you were as to who you were being hunted by.
You stopped your movements on the generator and stared at the door frame to see a white mask pop out and look back at you. You might have been imagining it but it looked like he gave you a nod, but you still turned around and booked it. Your heart beat fast as he followed you through rooms, he tried to slash you but you vaulted through a window before he could and his knife hit the wall. He was being quiet today, quieter than normal at least.
You ran him into another room and dropped a pallet on him, stunning him for a second as you ran to get away from him.
“Come back sweetheart! I’m not gonna hurt cha’! I’m just going to bash your brains in!” He referenced The Shining yelling after you, there’s the Ghostface you know and despise.
“Oh Shut it Danny! You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid!” You looked over your shoulder to see he gained back the space lost from being stunned.
You felt leather wrap around your arm and yank you back, turning you around and pulling you close to him. His hand left your arm and grabbed at the collar of your shirt, holding you in place unable to escape his hard grasp. Ghostface pulled you so his mask and your face were inches apart, you could hear his heavy breath muffled by his mask.
“You’ve just figured that out huh?” He didn’t give you any time to register his words before manhandling you into the large shower room of the Hospital before placing your stunned ass into a stall. “Stay here. you and i are going to have a little chat when i get done killing your friends.” He curled his fingers into air quotes on the word chat.
“Wha- huh??” You dumbly asked as he began to turn away from you.
“Oh sweetheart you haven’t noticed that you’re my favorite? That you get special treatment? How i make it hurt worse for you and no one else? You’re the only one I care to talk to hun. Now be a good pet and stay right there till i get back.”
Oh. Oh Okay. You stayed put mostly out of fear but another feeling settled deep in your stomach, a feeling you didn’t want to think about.
The Shape
For being a tall wall of a man, Micheal Myers was silent, he was scary. When they say he stalks they could never truly elaborate the pure primal fear this man made someone feel as he silently chased after them. You had found out the hard way why he was called The Shape.
You were trying to unlock a chest, the action easy but time consuming. Jiggling the lock loose always seemed to do the trick, and you had the time and ability to look around to make sure you were safe while doing so. You were safe as far as you know.
A large hand grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled you away from the chest as if you were a baby kitten, but the collar of your shirt dug into your throat and made you choke, effectively stunning you for a short second. The killer used this as an opportunity to turn you around and grab you by the throat. You were face to face with a white empty eyed mask, the brown hair glued onto the old rubber seemed to be wearing away with age. His massive hand was around your throat, his fingers crushing your wind pipe as he lifted you into the air. Pain shot down from your jaw to your shoulders as it felt like your head was going to be ripped off. Blood couldn’t make its way to your head with his vise grip making your vision blur and begin to turn black on the edges. You struggled against his grasp, your hands trying to hold yourself up to relieve the pressure on your neck, your foot came to kick his stomach but he grip tightened and you choked and missed him.
You felt loopy as your head began to swim, you looked into the eye holes of his mask and it must have been the lack of oxygen and blood to your head but part of you liked this. Some part of you was enjoying this. This man was strong enough to hold you’re entire body weight up with just one arm as you wiggled and struggled in his grasp.
“Ohhh you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” you wheezed out. Your vision started to turn fully black and your lungs began to scream at you.
Your body was jolted as if you’ve been shocked as you harshly and suddenly landed on the hard ground, you gasped and gagged for air, tears now running down your face as you coughed and cried. Your eyes throbbed as the blood began to rush back into your head, your throat burned and your shoulders ached.
You looked up to see Micheal Myers standing stiff as always looming over you. He stared down at you and tilted his head to the side as if he was a confused dog. The empty black eye holes of the mask bore into your recovering body like a cougar stalking its prey. He had dropped you. Why? Did you startle him by talking to him? Did you fluster him? you were right?? Was he going to kill you?
A generator popped in the distance and he straightened up his head. He looked down at you one last time before he turned around and began to head in the direction of the popped generator. You held your throat as you continued to gasp as you watched him walk away. He made it about a ways off before you stopped and turned back to you. You must have still been loopy from the choking because you weakly lifted up a meek thumbs up and he turned back around to find you the other survivors.
What. Was that a good thing?
#tezi post#dbd#dead by daylight imagine#micheal myers x reader#micheal myers#dbd the shape#dbd x reader#slasher x reader#slasher#dbd bubba#bubba sawyer#the cannibal dbd#bubba sawyer x reader#ghost face#ghostface x reader#danny jed olsen johnson#the deathslinger#dbd the deathslinger#the deathslinger x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Dylan Lenivy With A Protective S/O Would Include...
Request: Dylan from the quarry with an s/o who’s like really strong. Like wrestle bears strong (or in the quarry case wrestle werewolves strong) and is very protective. Like i mean picking Dylan up and running or taking hits for him.
I genuinely love Dylan so much time to work through my writer's block for him bby!! :)
Warning: Strong language, mentions of blood/ injury, mentions of guns and werewolf attacks!
(I do not own the Quarry or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @moafleco.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
Dylan Lenivy: darling boy, absolute light of my life!! I full on expected to come into this game and have Max be my favourite because I loved Skyler Gisondo in Booksmart and Night at the Museum 3 but Dylan really side swept my ass here and stole my heart I've got to be honest.
You can bet your ass during the whole Werewolf Attack night at Hackett's Quarry, Dylan will use whatever battery is left on his phone sending you cheesy texts just to check in and make sure you're okay. Be ready for your phone to ding about a thousand times a minute, until Kaitlyn finally cracks and shoves it, still vibrating, into one of the cubbies in the nurse's office.
'Hey sweet... baby-heart! Wait that sounds weird let me start again. Hellooo there sweetheart!❤️🥰 just wanted to make sure ❓that you’re still alive! 💘😖 and not ripped apart! 🤞❌ anyway love you please don’t get eaten by a swarm of bears!! 🐻😘'
Ryan had the joy of reading that one over his shoulder in the radio shack, and the groan he emitted was so loud they both ended up having to pitch over each other and duck under the table because it drew Caleb back up onto the roof.
The poor guy keeps peering out between the slats of the radio shack window like a scared meerkat popping up from behind towering rocks, thinking he can see you float past in a mist of lucent white, weaving through the treeline. He keeps pacing back and forth, back and forth sweating buckets because he's so terrified, and so ashamed that he's cowering in here while you may be in danger out there. Even Ryan's awkward offer to let Dylan borrow his earphones for a while: to sit with his knees drawn up to his chest in the corner and just breathe for a minute while Ryan kept watch, was met with an uncharacteristic sharp intake of breath and manic shake of the head.
So when you come bursting through the rickety door: drenched from head to toe in Nick's metallic reeking blood and propping Chris Hackett's shotgun in your arms, neither of the two men know what to do. But when a crash of lightning makes the full moon glowing behind your head shudder, making the pulsating umbra shrouding your head seem all the more monstrous, Dylan suddenly does.
The man starts screaming in a key that only dogs had a chance of hearing.
When he finally realises that it's you and not - you know - the 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry', and he's spent enough time bent over with his hands resting on his knees trying to catch his breath, the nervous butterflies in the pit of his stomach suddenly turn into somersaults. You came back for him. You came to save him. You care for him that much: love him that much, that you were willing to risk your own life just to try and save his.
Even though he's known you since you were seven years old: even though the two of you had met all those years ago during your first week at this very same camp, catching each other's eyes and waving as he bundled up to Chris' office with a brand new tape player he had restored in his arms, and you helped one of the younger girls pull her luggage out from the back of her parent's van, the true extent of how much he could fucking love someone hits him like air freshener to the face.
Even though the two of you used to sneak out of your bunks and meet up at midnight in the Shady Glade, bumping down beside each other on the dewy grass, constantly craving each other’s company. You made him blush one night, when you suddenly grabbed his hand and intertwined his growing fingers over your smaller ones, pointing up at the moon, and the glowing stars, not realising the little side eye, euphoric look he would give you.
Even though his heart had flipped over there and then: greedily gorging and festering in his chest, even though he had spent years stifling the feeling until he learnt that he was lucky enough to have it returned, it still shocked him to realise you didn't see him as a waste of space. As a spent joke.
And then his hand gets bit, and everything changes. It must have looked at least a little bit funny when it happened, considering there was not a chance in hell you were about to let any mystical creature drag off your poor boyfriend. As soon as Dylan got swung up to the roof: screaming and begging for you and Ryan to get him down, you jumped onto the desk and latched yourself on Dylan's back like koala bear. Your legs are quick to wrap around his waist until your heels kick up onto the slats, your arms wrapping around his waist until you manage to reach past and grab onto thick handfuls of warm... oozing fur.
With a swift punch to the snout, the two of you fall unceremoniously to the floor in a resounding crash. You managed to cover most of Dylan's moans during your fall by cradling him into your stomach, taking most of the brunt of the force. The poor guy for a moment just curls up on top of you in a state of wide-eyed shock, the side of his cheek heavy as he smooshed it against the side of your jaw. It's almost domestic: almost sweet, as he tugs his legs up between your knees and hides his eyes by turning his head into the curve of your neck. It's the same manner in which he wakes up every morning, hiding himself by nestling himself into you every time the sunrise comes falling through the dusty cracks of the Quarry's alpine blinds and makes him jolt awake.
This time, though. This time is far worse. Because then he starts laughing: a hoarse, shaking, unnerving noise that seems to seep through your throat and make you choke on your tongue. You do your best to grab onto his biceps as he starts shaking, his hands beginning to ball into your shirt as the reality of what's just happened to him settles in.
This man has seen enough horror movies in his life. If he's going to die, he wants to do it lying here in your arms.
Before he knew what was happening, he's being lifted up into your arms bridle style and rushed out towards the pool house. The whole way there, despite the agonising pain he's in, he keeps pressing his lips into your collar bone and giggling like a school boy caught head over heels by his crush. Even when your hands finally slip off from underneath his knees and you gently perch him on the edge of a sink, he's still cradling the side of his head on his neck and looking down at you as if you hung every star in that unbridled sky. It doesn't matter if you're trying to use a cloth to clear some of the blood from underneath his eyebags, or using some bandage Abi found in one of the pool lockers, this man is too busy trying to spend every second he has left as him enraptured by you. That means you have to work with him biting his bottom lip and smiling wonkily as he dodges the cloth and instead grabs onto your fingers, pulling them to his lips so he can kiss your knuckles one by one languidly. He looks so soft - so goddamn soft as he nudges his cheek against your intertwined hands, letting them rest against the side of his face.
He gets really fidgety, and it's then that you suddenly understand he's asking for a reassurance kiss: for the knowledge that you're not going to leave him. He’ll never say it outright, because deep down he’s too embarrassed and touch starved to admit it, but you can always tell. He has so many give away signs: he starts looking down at the floor, taps his feet against the tiles and fidgets his hips back against the porcelain, plays with his fingers by threading them through each other until you lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, and then he just beams with pure, unbridled happiness.
'You're so beautiful, you know that?' Even with the tendrils beginning to twist up his forearm, even half delirious with the stress of what had been happening that night, even thinking he's about to die he's still thinking of you. Worried about you. Desperate for you to know, that it's always been you. That it's all you.
'Dylan... I love you too, but if you keep putting yourself in danger to save everyone else I'm going to kick you into Lake Septimus ass first, okay?'
'Look, I've never met the guy, and although I'm sure he's lovely you're the only person I want to fall ass first onto', he replies, trying his best to hide how his eyes were starting to burn: how his eyes were beginning to crinkle with the effort of stopping his face contorting in pain by cupping your cheeks with his large palms and pressing a lingering, needy kiss against the side of your mouth.
'Ew. Gross, guys.' You turn your head to raise an amused eyebrow at Kaitlyn, but she only shakes her head and turns her attention back to the knitting gash on Nick's leg.
He seems to spend half of the time hiding behind your back! Like, you can just feel the slight tremble as his slender fingers touch your shoulder, and then the growing shadow against the lodge chimney as he jolts behind you. He's trying his best, bless his heart, even though the way he tucks the jut of his chin into your shoulder blade and grabs onto your biceps restricts you from shooting off Caleb when he comes clambering up the stairs towards the two of you.
But also even though he knows you're super bad ass he is 100% ready to launch himself, full-body starfish jump, in harm's way at the first sign of danger. Such as when Emma comes jumping out of the minivan, and Dylan straight away launches you away from him and nearly bearhugs her to the stony ground. Thankfully, you manage to tear off a branch from one of the encircling pine trees and strike the werewolf off Dylan; a near home run hit had her scrambling off into the woodland again as fast as her four legs could carry her. For a moment, your boyfriend just lounges against the dirt, shaky breath only interrupted by the sound of his wincing as he begins to flick pebbles off the deep scratches lining his elbow. Then, before you can even blink, he comes scrambling on his hands and knees towards you like a prowling predator, before melting into you. His arms are quick to lock behind your hamstrings; Dylan doesn't even bother to get up off his knees, he just shoves his head into your bellybutton and refuses to move until he can feel your fingers card through his scalp.
'Oh my god!', he finally starts, once you begin to unlatch his rusted fingers from around his legs by pulling at them one by one. 'I can't believe you never told me!'
'Told you what?'
'That you're secretly the sports coach! I knew Jacob was too much of a butthead - I just knew he was too busy playing hookup to look after the kids. That's the real tea from this summer.'
For real though - it doesn't matter where you are: turn around and Dylan's on your heels like your own personal walking, talking, screeching shadow. You have a bet with Kaitlin on whether he's managed to build a teleporting machine during his free time in the radio shack, because you could be down scouting the kitchen and he could be up looking at the weird family pictures in the lodge's attic, but at the first sound of any kind of howl he's there. You barely have time to duck down behind the counter before your boyfriend has made you jump out of your skin; he's standing right by the freezer (how tf did he manage to get all the way there without you hearing him??), completely out of breath and holding a cast iron skillet in his hands like a baseball bat.
'What?', he shrugs down at you with a tired smirk, putting his free hand on his hip and wiggling them a little. 'My mom always told me that it's better to be prepared than to catch anything unexpected. And I'm not letting you get bit too.'
'I'm... not quite sure that's what she meant. But thanks, sweetie.'
The nickname has his face burning a deep-set roseate for the next thirty minutes.
And then the two of you meet Laura, and this man's world just turns upside down. You turn down her offer to join her in trying to find Chris Hackett and end all of this for good, but from where Dylan was sitting on the bench next to the rattling window, he missed out on your reasoning why. He missed out on how you'd admitted that your sole focus: your one care now was to make sure that Dylan was safe. That you cared about him more than anything, and Mr. H could go to hell as far as you're concerned. You had to make sure Dylan survived the night.
Dylan's eyebrows crumpled when you came, cross armed, to unsteadily take a seat next to him again. He was too nervous to ask what the two of you had agreed, so he just fiddled with his thumbs and let the idea that he was holding you back darken his thoughts.
That he was a hinderance. That he was an annoyance.
He doesn't know what else to do, so as the two of you head out to the Hackett scrapyard in search of a new rotor arm, he takes up every silent moment by cracking wise. It starts to worry you - the way he can barely touch you. How he holds his hands in near claws against the meat of his biceps: how he barely lets his leg brush against yours before he jolts away again as if electrified. He even seems anxious when you reach out and grip onto his hand, his hold limp and loose as he lets it sway uneasily in the growing gap between your bodies.
He's just so afraid that if he lets go now, you'll be letting go of him forever. So he doesn't want to hold on at all. He feels it will be easier this way: kinder to you, to feel as if he's just drifting off with the breeze, a fond memory of long summers spent at some strange, long forgotten Quarry.
But you know him far too well not to register the full-blown panic behind his eyes as he dares to take a glance over at you. So please, shove this guy up against the nearest trunk of a tree, hold him up by shoving your knee in-between the seams of his thighs, and kiss him silly until all he can do is saunter off with a dopey smile and a brain so far up in the clouds all he can do is laugh rather than string together a sentence!!!
Literally I feel like this would heal him. Give this poor bby the love he's so desperately craving.
Straight up hefting him over your shoulder and carrying him away from Caleb in the scrapyard. The confused look on Kaitlyn's face as her head slowly turns to follow the set of you sprinting past with a screaming Dylan folded over your back like a snapped ruler is mfcking hilarious I'm not going to lie.
You refuse to leave him in the crane. Not even when he's gouging into the balls of your shoulders, crying and yelling and begging you to leave. To run. To get the hell away from him while you still can. Between his tormented yelps, you do your best to grab onto his face despite how forcefully his body's contorting. Despite how his fingernails are starting to cut into your skin and send blood blooming out in wispy tendrils across your shirt. You just place your thumbs up against the darkness obscuring the sides of his eyes and try to keep Dylan looking at you. To try and make him understand, to try and make sure the last thing he saw before he turned was you not leaving him. Not Ever.
#the quarry#the quarry imagine#dylan lenivy#dylan lenivy imagine#dylan lenivy x reader#dylan lenivy headcanons#dylan the quarry#dylan the quarry imagine#dylan the quarry x reader#dylan the quarry headcanons
199 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Triangle Or Not (Four)- Pt 4 ..haha
Here are the other parts
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Anon Request Prompt: Y/N is a trainer (very well known for her badassness) She just came back from a mission; she gets a little jelly that Tris and Four had gotten closer. There’s some feelings but on who’s end? Four asks Y/N to help Tris. Being the amazing person she is, she agrees to help, but in the process she gets hurt. After the mission ends she returns home only to have an argument with Four. Leads to late night confessions
I’m also making Y/N a Divergent but in secret.
A couple things, this is ridiculously long, I put it in parts and I am releasing them all at the same time because it makes sense okay. Cooooooollll I hope you enjoy.
Established something between Tris and Four.
Yooo I am so sorry I know it says late night confeession but thats not what happend. Im sorry the story writes itself sometimes hahha.
My requests are OPEN
————————————————-
Four ran from the room he and Tris were in, Jeanin laid unconscious on the floor. His mind reeled back to you. His panic set in, the two of them ran together, Caleb, Marcus and Will were not too far behind them. “ We need to get to the train!” Tris says, she shifts her gaze to Four.
Four growls in irritation, you should’ve been back by now and you're not. Four comes to a halt and so does the rest of the group.
“ What are you doing? We need to go now!” Tris yells.
“ It’s Y/N. I can’t leave. Just go to the train and get on, I’ll be right behind you guys” Four runs in the opposite direction back into the building hunting for you. He’ll be damned if he were to ever leave you behind. He’ll be damned if you're hurt, and if you were he only had himself to blame. He asked you to do this mission, it was a rushed process he knew that. Yet his heart still sank, he needed to make sure you were safe. He had so many things to say to you things he wished he had said earlier. So many emotions filtered through his mind and he only could think about you.
As if on cue, you stumbled out of the room that you and Eric were fighting in. Grabbing both hands he socked you in the side of the ribs repeatedly. You curved in on yourself in an attempt to block the punches. Eric managed to corner you between the wall and himself. Four panicked yelling at the top of his lungs from the other end of the hall “ GET OFF HER!” Four took off into a full sprint. Eric snapped his head towards four realizing that he was in fact awake and not affected by the serum. You took advantage of his distraction. You’ll definitely need to thank Four for that later. You pushed the hand away that held your wrist. Reach up and over Eric’s head you forced it down, locking it in place with your other hand. You jumped up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. You planned on putting his ass to sleep. You squeezed your arms tight, cutting off his air supply.
Four slowed down as he neared you, Eric groaned in pain as he tried to push you off of him. He resorted to punching you in the side causing you to lose your grip. You groan in pain as your grip slips from your fingers. You dropped to the floor while Eric attempted to grab you again. Four took off in a sprint tackling Eric to the ground. You took this as a second to recover looking for anything to take him down. By now all the little Knick knack of weapons that you had on you were gone due to the fight with Eric. Four battled it out with Eric, you stumbled up searching for anything to stop Eric. Your eyes landed on a piece of round metal, you ran towards it reaching for it. You stopped in your tracks holding it in your hand, it was a smoke grenade. Your eyes snapped in the direction of Four and Eric. As they wrestled amongst each other, you waited for an opportunity for them to separate. You started off in a jog before fully running you shouted Fours name as you pulled the clip from its slot and tossed it. Both Eric and Four stopped to look at you. Eric, not having time to react, Four punched him in the face taking off in the opposite direction. You threw the grenade forcing him to collapse and cover his face while you and Four barely made it out of the room-heading for the trains.
The train had led the group to Amity, a safe haven for now though it wasn’t ideal but it was necessary. The group had jumped off the train landing in the grass near the open field. Everyone graciously landed on the grass except you. The pain you now felt in your side was immense, the adrenaline in your body slowing down allowing all the damage your body took, catching up to you all at once. You were tired, your body wanted to give out, sweat rolled down your face, you pushed yourself up, you couldn’t breathe, it seemed to become more difficult as you tried to catch your breath. You swayed for a second or two. The thing was you didn’t land incorrectly, you landed how you were taught. So why can’t you breathe? The group had walked a good distance before Four noticed your absence. He turned around and saw you standing in place, you looked so defeated, but you also looked like you were about to drop.
Four ran over to you as he yelled your name “ Y/N?!”, your body swayed again. You knew you couldn’t stand for much longer. In that very same second your body gave out your eyes fluttering shut. The last image was Four’s concerned face as he caught you in his arms..” Hey, Hey, keep your eyes open. You can’t sleep, Stay awake” Four checked everywhere he could possibly as he searched for wounds. You had a few cuts and bruises here and there. What captured his attention was the broken rib that perturbed out so far that it pressed into the suit you wore, the back of your head carried an injury that caused it to bleed. Damnit! It was you, he did this to you, out of all people. He cursed himself, as he lifted you up and carried you bridal style. This was the last thing he wanted and yet he was the one who asked you to do this mission to start this war. You willingly followed him, even though you told him it was a bad idea. You were always right but somehow you kept it to yourself and you never told him so, he would always find out the hard way. This time it was different, he let someone else talk him into it and you tried to stop him, to make him wait. If only he had listened. You were his best friend but in this moment you meant more to him than anything else.
You laid in the hospital bed bandaged up asleep. Four held your hand in his as he rested his elbows on the bed, his lips resting against your hand. It had been about two days, you hadn’t woken up yet, you just continued to sleep, Four paid attention to your breathing every now and then to make sure you were in fact breathing. Four caught in a trance he hadn’t noticed Marcus walk into the room, “ I think you should eat and get some rest-” Marcus walks over to him, placing the food on the bedside of the table. Marcus placed his hand on Four’s shoulder to bring comfort to him in hopes he might take a break. “ -Tobias” Four flinches, it brings him to reality.. His name sounded wrong in his mouth, his touch burned, it wasn’t the touch he yearned for or the way his name was said by only you. Yet here you were laying in this bed, because of him. He never looked away from your face, watching you sleep, you looked so peaceful, in a way it made his heart twist. A piece of hair rested against your face in the way, one of his hands let go of yours, he reached over and pushed it out of the way. He caressed your face gently. Marcus sighed leaving the room quietly giving him the space and privacy with you.
A memory of you filled his mind as your smile appeared, you and Four had decided it would be a good time to prank Eric by replacing his mattress with farting cushions, so that every time he rolled over it would fart. Those damn farting sounds woke up the entire unit. Your laughter filled his ears. His heart swooned again, oh how he wished he could hear it right now. He closed his eyes just long enough so that he could hear your laugh and see your smile. Though when he opened his eyes he realized that you may just be in this state for a while. A bad memory filled his mind as it flashed back to you fighting Eric in the Warehouse, you fought with purpose, and he wished he would have taken it back-
“ Well you look like shit. Stop scrunching your face like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles” Your voice hoarse as you spoke. Four opened his eyes as he looked at you. You were a sight for sore eyes, his heart swelled at the sound of your voice. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or if it was real. You smiled at him.
Four chuckled “Oh is that so?” He questioned still lost in you.
“ Yeah” You continued to smile as you spoke softly
“ Mmh I wonder who told you that.” He replied carrying the same volume
“ You” You watched Four hold your hand as he looked away from your face, guilt filled his chest. You had seen his mood shift and just as you were about to ask him what was wrong Tris had walked in with a tray of food. She stops in her tracts realizing that you were awake. Four straightens up in his chair. By the looks of it not only did she care to feed him but she cut her hair too, her smile not quite reaching you but directed at Four. Of course it was. Your eyes drifted between the two. Tris cleared her throat “ Um I brought you food, I know you haven’t eaten all day. Oh uh Y/n you’re up, I am so glad you are finally awake”
You gave her a simple “mhm” as you turned slightly on your good side, kind of showing your back to her and the door. You faced the window and Four. You watched Four watch her, he was hesitant “Uh thank you Tris, you can leave it right there on the counter” He nodded towards it giving her a smile. She yet again returns it before leaving, giving him one last look. You rolled your eyes groaning in pain as you sat up slowly pushing Four out of the way. No way in hell were you planning on staying here to watch this shit happen. Four shook his head “ No you need to lay down”
You shoved his hands away. “ Fuck it I am leaving”
“ You can’t leave Y/n” Four argued back as he tried to get you to stay on the bed.
“ Watch me” You winced as you shoved him out of the way standing barely on your own two feet
“ Y/n come on. Don’t do this, just lay back down and get some rest”
“ No, I’m leaving, I can't stay here.”
“We need to lay low. Which is something you already know.”
“ We, please more like you and Tris with your little group you call family. I am not needed and that much is clear. What a great way to wake up”
“Is that what this is about? Tris?” He asks, watching your reaction closely, you however couldn’t find a way to answer that question without being rude. You also were tired of hiding your feelings for him.
“ You know what so what if it is” You questioned as you tried to walk past him but it was a struggle. Four grabbed your arm holding you in place. “ Four don’t make me kick your ass”
“ What has she done to you that you hate her so much? If you hated her so much then why did you help take down Erudite-”
“ I didn't do it for her! I did it for you!” You challenged as two stared at each other. It was time to let him know even if this doesn’t go the way you’d like.
“ What?” Four let go of your arm.
“ I. did. it . for. You. Because I care for you more than I should. I am in love with you and I have been since I met you. You are the one person that I can’t live without. I put my feelings aside because it was the right thing to do. It was never just for her” You told him, as a tear slipped out of your cheek. You had held that in for so long that when it came out it was more powerful than it should've been. “ But what does that matter? She’s the one you want, you two can save the factions together. You don’t need me” You stated as you took a step away from Four.
“ She’s not the one I want” Four says as he stares into you from behind. He wasn’t about to let you walk away after he almost lost you. Tris was not the person he wanted in his life as much as he wanted you in his life. You didn’t turn around, instead you chose to stay in your place. You waited. What if he was only saying that just to say. You were a sucker for him, one word, one phrase or sentence was enough to keep you here, but could you really do that to yourself? Four walked over to you turning you around to face him, He cupped your face in his hands.
“ You are the one I want, Y/n. How can I save factions if the one person who knows me the best isn’t my partner. You have been by my side supporting me every step of the way. It wasn’t until the moment I thought I lost you that, it was you.” Four rested his forehead against yours.
He shook his head, “ She was never you, she couldn’t be but I did have to help her. I knew what she was and that was life that needed to be saved. That doesn’t make things better but I had to help. It’s what you would’ve done”
You sighed “ Tobias-” Four couldn’t take it much longer pulling you into a kiss capturing your lips with his, the way you folded into each other was like a perfect mold. Four’s hands moved from your face sliding down your sides wrapping his arms around you. Yours wrapped around his neck, your fingers carting through his hair. You both must've been holding back from each other, as you both took the breath from each other's lungs. You both held so much passion and love that it felt as if no time had passed, the only indicator was the need for air and the pain in your ribs. You both pull away, while you wince slightly.
“You okay?”
“ Yeah, just keep in mind the next time you do that, let me know so my ribs don’t hurt” You tell him.
“ I will be sure to warn you, but can I just say Jealous is a good look on you”
#divergent x reader#x reader#x poc reader#poc reader#x you#bipoc writers#divergent imagine#tobias eaton x reader#tobias eaton#fanfic#imagines
540 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Answer Lies in the Silence
Written for week 1 of the Dark!Dean Event, for the prompt: Altered State | Under Supernatural Influence
They grow up strange.
Or, Dean stopped talking after the night of the fire. He'd be 25 when he finally speaks for the first time again.
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Season/Series 01, POV John Winchester
On the 2nd of November 1983, John Winchester heard his wife scream and ran into his son's nursery to find Sammy cooing and Mary pinned to the ceiling, dripping blood.
As he looked up at her, fire caught around the edges of her nightgown and a tongue of fire leapt out at him.
Out of a night filled with vivid images that would haunt him for the rest of his life, that stood out: the tongue of fire shooting toward him, almost a pyromancer's trick in the way it behaved.
That image, and what he saw as he scooped Sammy in his arms and turned around one last time at the door: the sight of Dean standing on top of the dresser in the burning room.
He'd suppose later that Dean had been trying to climb up to the ceiling and rescue his mother, stupid boy. He'd looked at John in the doorway, fire reflected in his watery eyes. John had a heartbeat's hesitation, then a window had blown up bringing fresh air into the room and blowing the fire outwards.
Sam had shrieked in his arms, and John could not remember running down the hallway, the stairs, and out the door, but he remembered falling to his knees a few paces from his front door and sobbing into Sam's blanket.
Years later, he'd reflect that he need not have rushed. The fire would have waited patiently until Sam was out of harm's way.
As it was, Dean had stumbled out himself a few minutes after John, soot-blackened, coughing, but otherwise unharmed.
John had breathed a sigh of relief and said a prayer of gratitude each night through the believing and disbelieving years.
Dean stopped talking. Watchful as a fox in a forest, always at arm's length. John would pull him closer, tucking him under his arm or picking him up but he'd remain impassive, reciprocating as a matter of form but never with any warmth.
He hadn't even cried.
The social workers shook their heads, the doctors offered sympathetic, guarded reassurances of possibly favourable outcomes with time.
"How much time?"
Tilted heads, sorry expressions, "There's really no timeframe to these things," shakes of the head.
Blurry weeks and months later, Sammy babbled and Dean only listened. In many ways, John had lost them all that night, not just Mary.
When Sam learnt to talk, normally if somewhat morosely, John breathed a sigh of relief.
He tested Sam every way he could think of, learn, or just plain makeup, silver knives and holy water, mirrors and iron and salt. And he tried to pretend he didn't see the almost hateful, sneering glances Dean shot him, like the echo of that orange glow still lingering in Dean's eyes from the fire all these years later.
Storms followed them out of every state and down every country road. Cattle turned up mutilated. And always, inevitably, a corpse with a cut throat in every town they left.
They lived an isolated, cut-off existence.
People around them didn't have very long lives and John learnt early not to leave the kids with anyone. He'd get a call from Sam in the middle of the night, drop everything and haul ass back to wherever he'd left them, and find gory murder when he arrived.
Missouri, Bobby, Caleb. He didn't let the list get too much longer.
Sam dropped out of school after the fourth grade.
They were sullen, the two of them. Gaunt faced in their tattered second-hand flannels and patched denim, mistrusting and secretive.
Sam was often sick. Fevered and delirious through the nights, weak and exhausted during the days.
Dean was single-minded, devoted, and sleepless with a seemingly endless reserve of patience and strength that kept John from losing his mind even as it cut at him.
What if— what if someday they had to—
He'd watch Dean taking care of Sam like some silent angel and knew that Dean would follow Sam to hell, would break John's neck for suggesting otherwise.
It was paltry comfort.
He felt out of step. An intruder in his own family when what he'd wanted most of all, all his life, was a family by the fireside and a home where he belonged.
He tried to bond and tired of trying. Parks and museums, roadside sparring, shooting spare cans, fishing.
At 12, Dean could shoot a gun better than most adults, at 16 he was better than John.
At 18, he still hadn't spoken a word to him but John could have sworn he'd seen him talking to Sam. They got on well enough without words it was true, and he shook his head, it wasn't possible. He was being paranoid.
Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes, he could hear a soft rough voice quite unlike Sam's through doors and at night when he was asleep, seeping into his dreams.
He poured salt at every doorstep and window sill, saw with relief that his sons were content to stay inside.
Lank-haired and sullen, gaunt and hollow-eyed but with a live-wire undertow of efficiency that John's own practiced eye would have missed had he not known better.
He didn't bat an eye when one shot up from the bed and crossed to the window, panther-silent and swift, but he thought of changelings and demon spawn and sometimes, when he left, he thought of never going back.
Sometimes, he wondered if he'd get another call from Sam and go back to find Dean the way he'd found Bobby all those years ago.
Dean was 25 when he finally spoke to John.
He was missing for days and when John finally found him, covered in blood, at least half his own, dirty and scraped, he stumbled and collapsed into John's arms, breathed, "Dad," and passed out.
John cradled his head, repeated "I've got you, I've got you, son," and took him back to the motel.
He woke up terrified, tried to tell John about a demon, tried to tell him something about Sam, but his voice was hoarse, breathing laboured, eyes wild, and forehead burning up. John hushed him, said, "I know," and soothed him until he passed out again slipping uneasily in and out of consciousness through the night and late into the next morning.
He sat vigil, watched Dean toss and turn, speak in his sleep, try to stay awake long enough to tell him something.
Three days later, John left the motel for the first time to get them all something to eat and when he came back, Dean was on his feet. Weak and exhausted, but his old self again.
John tried to get him to talk, but he would only stare, jaw clenched and something like a sick glint in his eyes.
John got up, went to the bathroom, and punched the mirror into fragments. It wasn't until a few days later, that he realized.
If he'd known earlier (and he should have), John might have stood half a chance. As it is he can only hate himself for not knowing his own son.
But he walked in and out of Pastor Jim's church a hundred times, he didn't flinch at holy water.
John recalls the glow of his eyes, fire-orange, he always thought, flashing at him like a challenge— really, it was sulfur yellow. He thinks of Sam, sick so often, fevered and delirious, shaking, writhing in agony. Passing fevers, John would try to pass them off as, occasional illnesses. Textbook withdrawals, he never let himself think.
He thinks of the games, the signs halfway across the country that took them packing. The little whispers, the gun that could kill anything, the Kurd knife he traded for two pints of his own blood. It's in his jacket pocket, one flick of the wrist out of his grasp but he never reaches for it.
It would be futile anyway.
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
i actually have another request but its basically the same thing i req' the last time teehee
could i get sfw and n/sfw headcanons with a afab short and busty reader with the deathslinger, trapper, ace visconti, & jeff johansen <3 i hope youre having a good day mmmuah
Deathslinger, Trapper, Ace Visconti & Jeff Johansen with a afab s/o that's short and busty
Deathslinger x reader, Trapper x reader, Ace Visconti x reader, Jeff Johansen x reader
I hope you enjoy dear! ^_^ I apologize about the rambling on Jeff's part, he's kinda my comfort character 😅☺️
Afab reader
Warnings: Slight nsfwish, mentions of Canon typical violence
Caleb Quinn| Deathslinger
This older Irish- American has seen his fair share of women during his youth, before he went to prison. At first, he did not pay you any mind to you because of his role of being a killer and you're the survivor.
Once the both of you end up together, you bet your ass he has looked at how much smaller you are to him.
He loves how much smaller you are compared to his taller and broader form. He's not the tallest killer but he's still pretty tall compared to alot of the survivors.
There's times when the entity would dress you in outfits that brings out your bust more. Being the crude gentleman he is, Caleb has been distracted due to catching glimpses of your body.
Especially if you ended up in a bar maid or western outfit. He has ended matches quickly just because seeing you look so alluring has an huge effect on him.
If Caleb finds out that anyone's been harassing you or make you feel uncomfortable, they might meet the other end of his Redeemer. Killer, survivor, he doesn't care, they will meet the same fate.
Evan MacMillan| Trapper
Evan is rather on the traditional side when it comes to being outwardly bold with his attraction to you and your body.
He's not the type to be public with his relationship with you. Especially when it comes to reacting to seeing you wear clothing that shows off your bust. He's lucky for the mask or his blush would be apparent.
This man is a big guy. From years of doing the physical work while his father's health deteriorates and just his overall natural larger form makes him a brick house of a man. He views the size difference between him and you, his s/o as he wants to protect you from the other killers because of how small you are.
Evan finds solace in holding or cuddling your smaller form to him. When alone with you, this man treats you like your his personal cuddle buddy.
In private, Evan is more open to talking about how much he adores your smaller form and would be that guy who would hold your hand and show you how much smaller and delicate your hand is compared to his large, calloused ones.
If he finds out that any survivor has made you uncomfortable with your body/ cat calls you, they will be suffering the next time they face him.
Ace Visconti | Lucky Gambler
Ace is quite a charming man, given his lucky nature and how he has years of experience with seducing and smooth talking both men and women. There was something different about you that makes him actually want to be more than causal flirtations.
Throughout the years, Ace has had been with people of different sizes and shapes. He does like to show you off when you wear clothing that shows off your large chest.
Especially when you wear either a bathing suit top in the summer or even one of his shirts. Hell, Ace would think you look good wearing anything.
He wasn't a man that goes for serious relationships, his heart is in gambling until being with you. He thought he was a lucky man until finding you, his lucky charm.
Outside of trials, when it's just you and Ace, Ace loves cuddling to you with his head on your chest. It's not completely sexual per say, it's hearing your calm heart beat while the two of you chat about whatever comes to mind.
Ace would be that person if another survivor talks shit about you, he would be extra toxic to them the next time he's in a trial with the person. Deliberately messing up gens, not unhooking them- making them just about enter second hook before he does, chase the killer to them. Mess with his partner, he will make it rough for them.
Jeff Johansen | Quiet Artist
Jeff isn't a guy who has a lot of experience with relationships (maybe a couple long term relationships) and he's not a guy who has any particular physical preferences.
He doesn't care if you're smaller than him or not. He finds beauty with his significant other no matter how they look. He loves all of you.
Jeff won't say it out loud but he has had a few times where he's blushing or trying to hide his arousal when he sees you wear more revealing clothes. He's respectful and tries not to stare at you.
Being the quiet guy he is, Jeff wouldn't be the best at expressing himself verbally. His medium is his art. He loves to draw you, especially in pictures of you wearing more of the warrior queen outfits. You're not only his significant other, you're his muse.
Another way he loves to spend time with you is having you sit on his lap facing him. He adores wrapping you up with his jacket while he holds you to keep you warm.
Although Jeff isn't a confrontational guy, if any survivor or killer tries to be pervy with you or makes you uncomfortable, he will quietly make their next trial with him a living hell (constantly blinding/ stunning killers, not unhooking the said survivor) they will learn not to mess with you.
#queendeeshorrorimagines#dead by daylight imagines#dbd Deathslinger imagines#dbd trapper imagines#dbd Jeff Johansen imagines#dbd imagines#dbd ace visconti imagines#slight dees lemonade#afab reader#aphrxxxdite request
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
A First Chance At Love - Chapter 8a
*Warning Adult Content*
Caleb Carmichael
I made my way down the stair in the kitchen to get a snack when I noticed Avery leaning in front of the sink, his head bend down, his back to me.
I felt the drool seeping from my mouth at him, just in his jeans.
The muscles cords on his back were tense and prominent against his smooth bronze skin.
I bit my bottom lip, keeping the whine from sounding.
A smirk eased on my mouth as I crept slowly up to him, he hasn't noticed me yet.
I was right behind him so I pushed up on my tiptoes and licked up his neck to his ear and he jumped away from me.
"Dammit Caleb," he growled and I just smiled.
"Hey there, lover boy," I purred stalking up to him.
He rolled his eyes at me.
"Stop it," he said but I shook my head.
"No. Not a chance."
I pushed him against the counter so he was trapped.
"Caleb," he warned harshly.
"How many times do I have to tell you, that I love it, when you say my name."
I was pressed up against him... a little surprised he allowed me to be this close but I didn't dwell.
"Say it again," I whisper.
"Get your ass off me," he growled.
"Now where were we, the other day?" I asked breathing into his skin, my nose running along the column of his neck as he shivered.
I grinned
"My, my. Is someone enjoying this?" I teased kissing his collarbone.
His skin was so soft and warm... his woodsy scent engulfing me.
I looked up to see his jaw clenched and his gaze anywhere but on me and that's when I thought of something.
The way he was always awkward when I was close to him or when I was flirting or teasing him.
"Avery? Have you ever been kissed before?" I asked softly dragging my finger along the hard muscular ridges of his stomach watching them quiver under my touch.
"That's none of your business," he told me stiffly.
My fingers reached the waistband and hooked into his jeans pulling his bottom half into me till there was no space left.
I lean my face into his my lips, inches apart, his breath smelled of mint toothpaste and him... Delicious.
"I can be your first, if you'd like," I huskily inform him.
His brown eyes stare down into mine, his face blank as always.
"I think that you should get out of my face, Caleb," he said softly, his warm breath fanning against my cheeks.
My hand pushed further down into his jeans till he quickly caught my wrist before I could reach my wanted destination.
"Now," he growled lowly in my face.
Shrugging I licked at his lips playfully, getting nothing in reply, not even an expression from him.
"You're missing out, Avery," I told him and I then leant close to his ear.
"I could rock your world. You have no idea," I whispered, wiggling my fingers, that were still trapped in his jeans, till he yanked them out.
"Don't you have babysitting duty?" he said, changing the subject and side-stepping away from me.
I rolled my eyes.
"Don't you?" I countered, then I made my face light up.
"Hey. How about we take junior to the batting cages. You can teach him how to swing, honey," I said mimicking swinging a bat.
He rolled his eyes, making his way out the door.
"No? Then maybe we could take him on a bike-riding lesson," I yelled after him.
"A two wheeler this time."
'What? Was it something I said? Was I to sarcastic?'
Chuckling I walked over to the fridge grabbing whatever looked appetizing, fried rice from the other night and carrying it out to the longue where Kyle was sitting.
"Why are you always in here?" I asked plopping down next to him throwing my feet up on the table.
"Because I can," he huffed.
I rose my brows up for a second.
"Wow. Very clear and to the point, bro," I commented sarcastically.
"You know me," his voice flat and void.
"Wow. Something crawled really far up your anal canal," I chuckled stuffing my mouth with cold fried rice.
"And I bet you'd like to try and find it, right?" he huffed.
I hit my shoulder against his.
"Just cuz I'm gay doesn't mean I like to be up just anyone's ass," I joked.
"Hey. What happened with you and that Avery guy? Did you snag him or what, yet?" he asked.
Kyle, beside Levi, was the only one I told, I was going to capture Avery's attention and then make him all mine.
"Yeah, well... he's tougher than I originally though he would be," I said nonchalantly, even though my feeling on how I first wanted to approach him changed.
Before I just wanted to get him in bed now I felt like I wanted to keep him all to myself and never let go.
"Hmm," was all Kyle said.
"So have you remembered anything about Blondie?" I changed the subject.
Kyle sighed slouching further in the couch and kept his eyes on the T.V.
"No."
There was a long silence after that, so I just shrugged and stuffed my mouth with more rice.
Right when Kyle's football game was starting to fry my brain with boredom, Levi came in.
"Hey Caleb. Are we going to CRANK tonight?" he asked, sitting in my lap.
I rose my container, over his head, so he could get comfortable and circled him in my arms.
"I was planning on it. I need to get laid. We haven't gone since Blondie came here," I said to him.
"Maybe you can get sucked off again, like last time," I wiggled my eyes suggestively.
I watched as his face brightened with a red flush and his body stiffened.
I wiggled my eyes suggestively.
I watched as his face brightened with a red flush and his body stiffened.
"Caleb," he exclaimed as I heard Kyle growl.
"Seriously can you take that fucking nasty ass-fag-talk, somewhere else," he snarled at us shooting to his feet and storming off.
I rolled my eyes at his retreating back.
"He has a nasty case of troll up his ass," I told Levi who said nothing.
"Have you talked to your sister today?" Levi finally asked me after a while of silence and I frowned at him.
"No," I said slowly.
"Why?"
He just shrugged innocently but wouldn't answer me.
"Levi," I warned him like a stricken parent.
"Because she told, Alpha Aiden and Luna Liam, that you were coming to dinner, with Dominic and Jay and Sadie. Like tonight," he rushed out and I froze at I stared at him like he was freaking crazy.
"WHY THE HELL WOULD SHE DO THAT," I yelled.
Dinner with the Adams family, great.
"Don't yell at me, asshole," he snapped getting off my lap.
I sighed.
"I'm sorry."
He crossed his arms and pouted at me.
"Whatever. Anyway... they are going to some new... gay friendly restaurant."
I groaned dropping my head back on the back of the couch.
"Let me guess... my sister recommended it."
He nodded.
"Figures," I sighed again.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Don't Kiss 'N Tell Chapter 1
It was the middle of December in a quiet town in Willerbain Iowa. Not too much goes on over there. People come and go, no one really stays. Those who do leave within a year. Some have been living in the town their whole lives. Just like Penny Thornhill. Who works at the "Wire Tap." A little bar on the corner.
"Order up" Ash yelled from the little window in the middle of the kitchen. Walking around to grab it, Penny picks it up with her left hand and the drink with her right. Working at the "Wire Tap" has its moment. You got typical assholes, snotty bitches, and on occasion the creepy old men who try to take you home. While handing the food and drink to a table, an older gentleman maybe mid 30's sits down at the bar.
The man had short spiky brown hair, had some muscle to him. Skinny looking like he had a 6 pack underneath the shirt. Clean face and blue eyes.
"Hello, my name is Penny. What can I get for you tonight"?
"What's good here?" The man asked. His voice was deep, but not too deep that it was off putting. And his smile. Oh man that smile is something.
Penny smiles back, and for just a split second it was almost like there was something there between the two. But was there or was she just imagining things. She explains that for her it's a simple jack and coke.
"Yeah, lets do that"
"Coming right up right sir.
"Zac. You can call me Zac."
"Penny" she smiles, then turns around and heads behind the bar to make the drink.
A couple minutes later Penny comes back with the drink for the gentleman. Setting the drink down in front of him, he nods as a thank you, then continues to type on his phone. Penny walks away but can feel a pair of eyes on her ass as she does. Now Penny isn't what most would consider normal looking. She is a bit on the heavier side. Don't really have that "bubble butt" either, its not flat but it's not out there at the same time. Her breasts are the same. Not flat but not out there either. Penny ignores the feeling of a hole burning into her ass because it was probably men poking fun at it being so small.
About 30 minutes go by and it was time for Penny to end her shift. Not looking forward to going home, so she takes a little bit extra time to get things cleaned up. Why is she taking her time? Well because her parents are fighting again. Mother of year Tiffany is sleeping around to get money, not a hooker but might as well be. Complains about doing everything around the house, though she does nothing. And dear ol daddy Caleb, is at work almost 24-7. When he is home, he sleeps. He can be sweet but at the same time he doesn't care what happens to his family.
Walking out from the back of the bar, Penny walks to her '04 Pontiac Grand Prix red car. Pulling out of the drive away and heads home. While heading there she gets stopped at a red light. Taking this time to put a Marlboro cigarette between her lips and lit it up. A few seconds go by, and the light turns green. Penny puts her foot onto the gas pedal and starts to pull away from the spot. As she pulls away a black truck comes out of nowhere and hits her on the back passenger side. The car spins out of control and flips multiple times. The car lands back on all 4 tires, but the engine is smoking and is wrecked to crap. The truck, however, is not too bad and it speeds of going back in the direction it came from. Penny is still awake, but blood is rushing down the side of her head.
Before she could pass out two strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her out from the car, then shutting it off before it had a chance to explode. Penny vision is blurry she can just barley make out who the person is.
"Hey you're gonna be okay. I have already called the police and the ambulance. They are about a minute out okay. Hang in there." Penny can almost recall the voice. She mumbles a very quiet "thank you" then falls unconscious.
The police, fire trucks, and ambulances arrived moments later. Loading Penny onto a gurney. Zac, the man from the bar, and the man that saved Penny, explained what happened. Mentioned that it was a hit and run. He lied when asked who he was to the victim. Explaining that he was her boyfriend, and that he was taking a walk when he heard the crash.
After arriving at the hospital, Zac watches as the medics, doctors, and nurses rush to each side of the gurney and get wheeled in. Zac walked alongside Penny until he felt a hand on his chest. He had a very slight glimmer of hope that it was Penny. That she had woken up without him noticing. "Sir you must wait here. Sir you can't go back there." A nurse says. Disappointed that it wasn't who he hoped for he looked down at the older lady, nurse Jackie, with a small tear rolling down his left cheek. Quickly he wipes it away. Jackie escorts him to the waiting area.
Why? Why would he be crying over a girl he just met today? Over a girl who he shared just two basic simple sentences with. "I promise when I know something, you'll know something." He nods and sits down in one of the blue chairs in the waiting room. It's not the most comfortable, but at this given moment Zac couldn't give a shit. Almost 10 hours went by, and for most of that time he just kept replaying the accident in his head. Prying that Penny would make it out okay. Wondering why this woman means so much to him. The remaining time he dozed off. Dreaming about what he would do if Penny woke up. NO! He means WHEN she wakes up. She's gonna come back. She has to, just has to.
1 note
·
View note
Text
ok fuck if I’m not going to sleep anyway. random 3am thought dump I’ll probably delete later
- I’m soooooo mad that mk got out… I wanted to see her win so bad. Though I did like her n Julia rushing to turn the other contestants against the other, toxic yuri yay <333 The scene at the dock is probably the closest we’ll ever get to mkulia confession and I liked it :] the hug ouhhh
- priyaleb bad
- Damien being constantly tormented by scary girl even in her absence ofc, if we get season 3 I’d love to see if their dynamic changes in any way after Damien’s growth
- speaking of Damien. Cmon really. That elimination was sooooo bullshit (a lot of them were but him + mk annoy me the most bc they’re sooo finalist material wtf are they doinggggg).
- priyaleb sucks so bad
- Julia singlehandedly carrying the final episodes fr
- can someone pleeeease clip the part in ep 12 where Chris says caleb is basic. So real
- god I really wish I could concisely communicate my feelings towards caleb… he could’ve been so good but the writers just have his character go through the td romance circuit over and over repeating the same thing in each episode.. wow u made up with priya.. the. N misunderstanding. Then u make up. Then new conflict that doesn’t get resolved. Yay. Remember at the start of the season how I was excited to see what they did with him. Sighs
- ^same with priya she was so wasted this season. The way winning the show she was literally trained from birth to win barely affected her character… I’ve said this so many times but the only time I actually liked priyaleb is when they used their common conflict with parents as a way to connect to each other. What the hell happened to that
- normal girl just going right back to being scary girl was expected (she was the first boot) but they could’ve done more with it!!! The conflict between being accepted and being yourself… I still don’t get why they designed her a whole ass new outfit just for a one episode bit lol
- mullet julia 👍
- I feel. Conflicted about Wayne winning. Like I get what they’re going for. The most no thoughts head empty player who basically floated through the entire season as comedic relief ends up winning against the two biggest threats of the season. Also I liked him clearly being the other campers favourite, the absolute whiplash between Caleb’s “we just don’t want Julia to win” group vs Wayne’s group being so enthusiastically supportive and hyping him up. On the other hand,, idk it just felt kind of unsatisfying??? like I just had to watch my favourite character of the season get eliminated, immediately followed by the two characters I for sure thought would make it to final 3, and Wayne is the one who ends up winning, when he did. The least anything out of the final group. Idk mannnn I guess I’m just kinda indifferent to him as a finalist. Could’ve had a worse winner but he wasn’t even in my top 5 pick for this seasons winner tbhh
- overall this season was……. Meh. Of course I enjoyed a lot of parts (MKULIA) but between the questionable elimination orders (so many of them felt like they had to jump thru hoops just to make sure they eliminated the character they were sick of writing) and the priyaleb taking up so much screentime when it’s so bland … it definitely holds itself back from being great </3
I’ll post more detailed thoughts on the last few episodes in the morning ig,,
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pieces (14): Our Jobs
Chapter Summary: Jay takes Y/N and Chloe out for a kid-friendly date which is interrupted by an unforeseen circumstance.
Word Count: 1,928
Warnings: canon-typical mentions of guns, injuries, GSWs
A/N: I'm back with Chapter 14! I'm just really thankful for all of you who have stayed on to follow this series, I hope you guys like this too! Remember to stop by and let me know what you guys think!
SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter
Between Jay’s work at Intelligence, your shifts at Med, as well as Chloe, time passed quicker than you could ever imagine.
You’d been waiting for the thing to happen. The thing that would break this fairy tale apart, that moment when Jay would turn around and tell you he couldn’t do it, that it was too hard between your work, or with Chloe. But it didn’t come.
You were prepared again that first time you disagreed with something Jay said, the day you’d had a fight. But it didn’t come either. And when you asked him about it, your boyfriend looked at you like you were crazy. “What am I, an authoritarian? You’re entitled to disagree with me and to do whatever the hell you want. And if anyone says any different, you kick their ass. Me, included.” Jay had said with a smile.
Again, and again, Jay continued to show you that he most definitely meant everything he said.
“The park?” You asked him, an eyebrow raising.
Jay smiled. “Come on, the weather is going to be great, we just closed a big case so I have more time this weekend and I know you still have a day or two from the time you swapped with Connor. Or you can make Will work.” He paused. “I’ll make him work.”
You laughed, nodding. “But let’s not tell her yet, just in case.”
Jay nodded, smiling. The nature of their jobs, mainly his, meant there would be emergencies, or sudden calls that meant he had to take off, and he really didn’t want to be the person who disappointed Chloe, or you.
The weekend came around and everything seemed stable so you’d woken Chloe with a “Do you want to go on a picnic?”
“A picnic?” Chloe asked. “Can Jay come?”
You smiled. “Yeah, he’s coming to see you anyway.”
The little yelp of happiness made you smile. The last time you’d seen her so excited was when her father had agreed to take her out to a theme park, although that had been followed by the small disappointed look on her face when her father had canceled. Even though you had offered to take her anyway, Chloe had smiled and shook her head, asking if the both of you could go get ice cream instead.
And now looking back, you realized that all it chalked down to was effort. Effort that Jay could do, which was at least ten times what Caleb could do for his own daughter.
“Mom, hurry up!” Chloe yelled from where she was already up front with Jay.
So you’d spent the afternoon at the park, munching on sandwiches and other picnic food, watching Chloe run around, sometimes accompanied by her excited shrieks while Jay chased her.
As Chloe dragged Jay off a little further out, you leaned back, inclining your head back up against the clear sky. You forgot how much you liked watching the clouds drift by.
Then a shot ripped through the park.
You froze, sitting up with a jerk. Jay had paused as well from where he was playing with Chloe. There was a silence, where you figured maybe it was just a tire going off, or some other similar sound when a bunch of other shots went off, followed by screams.
Jay scooped Chloe up with one arm, both of them coming towards you quickly.
“Come on.” Jay whispered, readjusting Chloe onto his arm and taking your hand, leaving everything else behind, his only thought to get the two of you out.
You’d almost reached the parking lot when you saw him, a guy holding a gun, laughing and marching across the field to his friend. Jay pulled you down behind a small dividing wall made of stones.
“This is Detective Jay Halstead, badge number 51163. I have two active shooters in the park. Send some cars and ambos. Be advised, plainclothes officer on the scene.” Jay spoke into his phone in a low voice.
He turned back to you. “I need to make a break for it, alright. Get Chloe out of here.”
Jay pressed the keys of the car into your hand now.
“Jay…”
You knew that if you didn’t have Chloe with you, you might have stayed. You’d have argued that you’re a doctor and you could help. Somehow.
But you weren’t alone. You weren’t just responsible for yourself.
Jay put his finger to his lips and glanced at Chloe. “Take care of your mom, alright?”
Chloe didn’t say anything, just studied Jay’s face before she turned to put her arms around him in a hug and nodded.
You took Chloe from his arms and nodded.
“I’ll cover you. So whatever you hear, don’t look back. Just drive and get as far away from here as possible.” Jay nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
You swallowed before you nodded and Jay pressed a firm kiss to your forehead, before he gently touched Chloe’s head. “Be safe.” He whispered.
Your eyes lingered on his for just a moment longer before he nodded. You squeezed his hand.
“You come back to us, you hear?”
Jay smiled and nodded.
You kept your body crouched low, Chloe pressed against you as you ran straight for the car. You’d barely closed the back door behind Chloe when you heard shots ring out, bullets sounding like they were crossing each other.
“Y/N, go!” You heard Jay yell and you pulled yourself into the car, hitting the accelerator.
You spotted Jay in the rearview mirror but you wrenched your eyes back onto the road, turning away from where you could still hear gunshots.
Just as Jay thought you’d be able to at least start the cae before the shooter noticed, he’d turned and aimed his gun right at you.
With barely any consideration for the fact that he didn’t even have his police vest on, Jay had shot out of the corner he’d jammed himself into, firing the weapon he already had with him with no reservations now that you and Chloe were not there. Especially Chloe.
Jay rolled back down behind cover as he heard the sound of your car drive away and he allowed himself just a second to exhale and get his head back in the game before he peered out again and moved, exactly like he was trained.
You’d driven straight to Med.
“Y/N? Aren’t you off today?” Maggie asked, the confusion written across her face as you marched into the ED with your daughter. “Everything okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah, there’s a shooting at the park. This place is gonna be flooded. I just…”
Maggie glanced at Chloe and nodded. “We can take her to the daycare.”
You looked at Chloe. “Can you go with April?”
“You need to go too?” Chloe asked.
You smiled. “Yeah.”
“With Jay?”
Your heart clenched and you nodded, smiling and giving her a kiss. “We’ll come and get you as soon as we can, alright?”
As April took her gently from your arms, you paused as your brain had an internal battle all on its own. All you wanted was to dash back to the park to make sure Jay was alright. You had the one car you'd driven out in together this morning, the keys felt like stones in your pocket.
But the rational part argued against it. Other than the obvious danger you’d be putting yourself in, there was literally no value in you being there in a dangerous situation and there was a higher possibility in Jay getting hurt just to protect you.
“Y/N?”
You were snapped out of your thoughts when Will touched your arm.
“What are you doing here?”
You shook your head but then glanced back at him before you pointed to the doctor’s lounge, to which Will nodded.
Will closed the door behind him, before he looked at you. “You okay? I thought you and Jay…”
You nodded, taking a breath, feeling your heart pump a little harder as the memory hit you again. “We did. We were at the park. There was a… shooter. Two? I don’t know, Jay made me take the car and leave and I just… I just drove here.”
Will was blinking back at you, his eyes wide. “Should I go back?” You asked him now.
Will shook his head. “Listen, Jay’s going to be fine.”
“Liar.” You shot back at him, studying his face. “You’re worried too.”
Will smiled. “Being worried and believing he’s going to be fine are two separate matters.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Hardly.”
Will nodded. “Chloe’s upstairs, isn’t she?”
You frowned and nodded, wondering where he was going with this. Will reached over and threw your scrubs at you. “Let’s do our job then. We’ll be useful here.”
You stared at the scrubs in your hand for a bit before you nodded, glancing up at him. “I know.”
Before long, the ED was flooded with all sorts of injuries. There were the serious gunshot wounds, then the slightly less serious ones that came in with fractures and sprains from the stampede.
You’d been kept so busy, you didn’t have much time to let your mind wander. Not that you’d forgotten. It felt more like a nagging feeling, a stone at the base of your stomach, or sometimes it sprouted in your chest when you were least expecting it and you had to take another moment to breathe.
“Maggie, if you see anyone from CPD, or Intelligence, can you let me know?” You leaned in across the counter.
Maggie glanced up at you and nodded. “You want me to make some calls?’
“If you can.” You nodded. “Thanks.”
You were interrupted almost immediately by Ethan calling for help and you turned around, heading for the treatment room at the back.
“I’ll intubate.” You said, the moment you entered, moving as quickly as you could. “I’m in.”
The beeping sounds got steadier and you glanced at the monitor, before you looked at Ethan, who was studying the ultrasound.
“She’s bleeding into her belly. She’s got to go in to surgery.”
You nodded, “I’ll call ahead.”
You followed Ethan to the lift before he nodded at you. “I’ll bring her up. You better stay down here, just in case.”
Patient flow had already stabilized. Most of the non-emergent patients had been treated and the emergent patients were mostly upstairs already in surgery. But Ethan was right, you just never knew. Just then, you heard the sound signaling an ambulance had brought in another emergency patient, so you nodded at Ethan and headed back to the front, freezing as you watched the paramedics wheel him in as Connor reached them.
“GSW to the chest, intubated in the field. He lost consciousness halfway.” Sylvie’s voice felt like it was coming from another dimension.
The breath caught in your throat as you saw him, everything felt like it was going in slow motion as you stared. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, watching as he was wheeled into a treatment room.
“Jay.” His name left your lips through no will of your own.
“Someone get me Dr Choi. Y/N and Will, out.” Connor barked.
You couldn’t have been of any help anyway as you stood mutely there next to Will.
The worst was the sound that followed, the sound that came from the machine Jay was already hooked up to. The sound that echoed in your ears, in your mind, that terrified you to your bones. The sound of a flatline.
THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!
If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!
Character taglist is open here
#resa.fics#resa.piecesfic#jay halstead#jay halstead x reader#chicago pd#chicago med#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead series#jay halstead fic#jay halstead fanfic#jay halstead x you#jay halstead x y/n
363 notes
·
View notes
Text
probably one of my favorite aspects about The Quarry are how the “villains” are handled. even saying “villains” feels ill fitting, they all just feel like separate factions with different (but similar) goals.
THE COUNSELORS
“how are the counselors villains” you ask? ill tell you. theyre not villains in that theyre purposely antagonizing the Hacketts, but they are obstacles. the Hacketts have had a solid routine for about 6 years. go out to look for Silas in the desperate hope to cure their family members. and on the one night they decide to take a risk and let their werewolf relatives loose, hoping theyd lead the human Hacketts to Silas, these young clueless teens not only stay seated right in the line of fire, but proceed to have a very loud party in the middle of the damn woods.
they are obstacles in that now instead of aimlessly scouring through the woods, the werewolf Hacketts have just been handed a campfire-shaped-coupon to an all-you-can-eat-buffet. not only is this fucking up the entire plan, but now theres the danger of these counselors possibly getting infected and creating even more werewolves!
with this said, The Counselors arent only obstacles tho. theyre just unaware! Jacob had no idea about the werewolves when he sabotaged the car, nor did Dylan when he suggested a party, and neither did Laura and Max when they kept going to the quarry in the prologue. this group is not outwardly malicious or purposely trying to be obnoxious. they just dont know theres real actual monsters out there. who would?!
THE WEREWOLVES
how the werewolves are antagonists is pretty obvious i think.
but how they arent, isnt! even tho im neutral on their design, the writing behind the werewolves is amongst my favorite out of all the creatures Supermassive has written about so far. theyre mindless creatures with no recollection of their human selves. Nick could damn well be in love with Abi, doesnt matter bc if you miss that shot, hes going to rip her head off. the wolves are a legitimate danger, one you have no control over, but despite that, you dont want to kill them bc fuck theyre your FRIENDS and you know theres a way to change them back!
i dont want to compare but for example, in Until Dawn, there is no way to save Hannah, girl has just got to go. in Man of Medan, 90% of your attackers are the other playable characters, so just choose to chill out and youll be fine. in The Quarry, neither apply to the werewolves. your loved ones will attack you and you must defend yourself, but how far will you go to do so? will you kill them with silver to permanently end the threat? even tho they wouldve been back to normal by morning and couldve even been cured? or will you go easy on them, but risk getting infected yourself, or even worse, eaten alive?
its just so COMPLEX! you want to protect your loved ones, but the “loved one in danger” is constantly changing depending on which person a wolf is hunting down and which wolf is being hunted down. god, its one of my favorite things about the game!!
THE HACKETTS
how the Hacketts are antagonists is pretty simple. theyre trying to attack your ass. Bobby stabs Ryan and he must become infected to survive. Travis can murder Laura out of revenge, and Constance can shoot Laura out of annoyance. Chris and Caleb are werewolves who if you dont kill, will kill you (or just die in Caleb’s case). and this family has a bizarre tendency to just kidnap ppl without a word! Travis kept Laura and Max locked up for two months and barely told them anything! not until Laura “proved” her loyalty and intelligence. Bobby and Jed kidnap Jacob also without a word, not giving a shit about his pleas.
i mean ffs its their fault werewolves are even a danger in the first place. they burned down the Harum Scarum Traveling Show and let Silas loose. the Hacketts are major assholes.
how the Hacketts arent just antagonists are where things get complicated. for starters, yes the Traveling Show burning down is their fault. but if you have Laura and Travis survive to the end, you learn that it was done out of child-like ignorance. Kaylee and Caleb were young and didnt approve of Silas’ treatment, so they came up with the well intended plan to start a fire and help him escape. unaware of how quickly a fire spreads or that a bite from Silas would ruin their fucking lives.
in the present day, the Hacketts kidnap the counselors to either protect them or just get them out of the way (or both). they go about it in a really fucked up way, but theyre not trying to hurt them, quite the opposite, they just have the worst social skills in the gotdamn world. the Hacketts only turn outwardly aggressive after Laura kills Kaylee. the family feels immense grief and officially stops giving a shit, wanting to make Laura suffer as much as possible, especially as shes infected and trying to kill Chris.
the Hacketts are assholes, but they werent always like this and dont want to be like this.
everyone in the game just wants to move on with their lives, but they all have different ways of going about it and a lot of them directly conflict with one another. “whos the villain” changes depending on which pov youre looking through. its so interesting and so well done, and i love it a lot.
278 notes
·
View notes
Note
the coochie unhooking hcs are sending me omg 😭😭😭 not to be super repetitive, but could I maybe request that with doctor and deathslinger? maybe also a third killer that hasn't been done yet if you want 👀😳
literally writing these mfs are so funny LMAOO
honestly this can apply to all genders but i just say coochie cause it’s funny atp
i forgot to add a 3rd killer i’m sorry 🧍♂️
some suggestive/maybe nsfw ?
....................................................
Herman Carter:
Congratulations! You managed to catch this man off guard!!
Almost nothing is unpredictable to Herman. Well.. you unhooking yourself using your thighs and having your entire cooch in his face is not as predictable as you throwing a pallet down or hiding in a locker, so you can't blame him for not expecting that.
I hope you don't mind getting shocked (hopefully ur coochie doesn't get electrocuted omg) because the second his hands touch your thighs, he'll send jolts of electricity through your body. Keep a tight grip on him because he will throw you back on that hook if you lose your grip.
Kinda weird feeling his face in your crotch? I mean his mouth is constantly pried open, so you’d probably feel his teeth glide across your clit a few times depending how you move.
The second you get him to the ground
RUN BITCH RUN
Herman recovers very easily from situations of any kind, and he is NOT happy that you outsmarted him.
He'll return from a trial and write notes about you.
Definitely writes some shit complimenting you but excuses it as him just making sure he knows exactly how you work. Not sure if "They use their thighs with force. Quite impressive." are actual notes, but if it’s what Doctor Carter says.
Was totally into it but he doesn't like it when his emotions get in the way of his work. He gets over it pretty easily but tends to think about it whenever he hooks you. He won’t let it happen again, but some part deep down sort of hopes you do. One, so he can outsmart you and put you in your place. Two, well, he just wants that fire ass pussy back in his face ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Caleb Quinn:
Caleb is.. quite surprised. He has to admit it. To himself that is
This ruthless killer, the Entity’s personal bounty hunter, would never think he’d be outsmarted by a little survivor and their coochie. But here he is, speargun on the ground, and his hands are desperately trying to pull you off of him. Of course, Caleb is already falling to the ground, but that doesn’t stop his instincts from trying to get you off of his face anyway.
Caleb never thought too much about you. Sure, he’d see your outfits and think they looked nice on you, or that the hairstyle the Entity gave you that trial looked quite elegant. What he never expected was to actually be in such... intimate (?) contact with you. The legs around his shoulders that quickly squeeze around his face the moment he puts you on that hook was something he never would have expected. Caleb doesn’t know quite how to feel in the moment. His brain is telling him to eliminate the threat, but the growing hard-on in his pants is telling him otherwise. He can't help it. Your crotch in his face and your thighs around his head has this man both slightly panicking and more than slightly turned on as well.
Don't get me started on when you start getting off him. Depending on how you get up, your thighs may squeeze around his head. It's very out of character for Caleb, but he genuinely will not know what to do in this situation. As creative as he is, he can't for the life of him think of a way to get out of this situation. Maybe because he's too busy thinking about how you can probably see the bulge in his pants.
Caleb won't be too embarrassed about it, but he hopes you don't mention it the next time you see him. And he dearly hopes you don't try that shit again. It's very awkward for him to wait for an entire trial before dealing with his situation down there.
Angrily kills you next trial bc u made him horny >:((
If you do it again? YOU BETTER STOP- You'd better hope you have a better grip on him because that man WILL throw you off him. He has work to do. He doesn't have time for coochie in his face. Unless your pants are off, he ain't dealing with it.
485 notes
·
View notes
Text
Caleb was not a tall man. He was barely 5'8. The linebacker towered over the artistic thespian, and yet, as Caleb helped David onto his feet, the younger of the two seemed to have all the power. The artist gave the athlete the strength and support he needed to get back on his feet. It should have been the other way around, but it wasn't. The little one radiated this natural aura of confidence that could insnare any one.
Caleb heard the miniature army of varsity football players pass by. Caleb's arm was still linked with David's. He could feel the anxiousness take over the other's body. He could see it in the varsity star's eye. Still, Caleb held onto David with an unusual amount of firmness. He gave the man who towered over him support; anchored him in emotional stable. This level of comfort only added to the spark of chemistry that was pulsating between them.
The impending danger had passed. The crowd of jocks had disappeared. It was just the two of them again. David could relax. Now that they were reassured that those fuckers wouldn't bother them, Caleb, who had never let go of David's grip, gave him a soft squeeze. It was gentle, but also firm and comforting. " Seriously, fuck em. If only you knew the shit I had on them. "
After assuring the linebacker that there was nothing to fear, Caleb, who was still holding onto David's anxious written grip, looked into the giant's gaze with subtle assertion and dominance. It was unexpected, due to his size, but it was none the less assertive. It was hot. " I would have written cute as fuck."
There. He confessed his attraction to the athlete. Letting go of his grip, the boy just stared at the giant with a cheeky grin. He had had a crush on David ever since he transferred. Caleb would always give him the side. The giant was so beefy and thick. He was so cute. Caleb had fantasized about David so many times, he lost count. He busted alot of loads to the linebacker, and now he finally admitted it.
" It's close by, don't worry. I'll show you a good time. Just don't judge my flat. It's nothing special, but it's a roof over my head."
And with that, Caleb smiled and David, nudging the giant to follow him home. They were close. They could walk.
About 10 minutes later, the two boys had finally arrived to Caleb's home. It was a mobile home in a shady trailer park. It wasn't much, but it was clean and it kept Caleb safe. He's been living alone ever since his father was arrested for domestic violence. It was a pain but clean mobile home. It was cozy; just what the english gentleman needed. " It's not much, but it's home."
Taking David's hand, he led his crush to the master bedroom. It was just enough space for two. Closing the space between them, Caleb asserted his subtle dominance again, giving David a suggestive and perverted grin.
" I've had my eye on you for a while now," said the young brit with a confident smile. His dark eyes were twinkling with curiosity. " Ever since you transferred over. Big ass teddy bear. So thick. I love it." Caleb was finally getting it all out.
" You know, two dudes doing it, it's a game changer. Let me show you." And with that, Caleb slowly wrapped his arms around his guest's waist, gently assuring his dominance by pulling him in, giving the giant a deep, sensuous, erotic and powerful kiss. Soon after that, his tongue followed.
Caleb's tone shifted from playful to serious. He could tell the beefy linebacker was in no mood, so he didn't push the situation. As he listened, the smaller of the two could feel his eyes widen when his classmate made his confession. David was gay. There were rumors going around, but Caleb didn't pay them no mind. Honestly, he wanted to find out for himself, because deep down, he knew David was, but he wanted to hear it come from the athlete's mouth.
" Wow, that's horrible. I'm sorry," Caleb said in his thick english accent. Taking a seat next to the beefy bear of an athlete, the smaller and younger of the two did his best to make the new kid feel better. " Fuck em. I can tell you stories about your ' Brothers ' that would make your jaw drop. Your coach, too. So fuck em. They don't mean shit. You're better than them." What really resonated with Caleb were the stories of David's troubled home life. That was something he was all too familiar with.
" I'm sorry it's been so rough with you. I know the feeling. I got my own place, well, I use that phrase pretty loosely. It's a long story. if you wanna get away from it for a little while. It's not Buckingham palace, but it's a roof over your head. Besides, it gets a little lonely all by myself. I could use the company."
Grabbing his bag, he threw it over his shoulder and offered the larger man a hand to get up.
" If it makes you feel better, If I was going to vandalize your locker, you wanna know what I would have written on it? I promise you, it wouldn't be fag. "
Caleb asked in a playful, and some would say flirtatious voice. His answer would surely make the linebacker feel better, so the boy hoped his classmate would take the bate.
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E133 (April 13, 2021)
(Little distracted tonight! Please excuse any and all omissions.)
Tonight’s guests on Good Morning Quebec are Marisha Ray and Travis Willingham!
How are Beau and Fjord feeling about their leadership responsibilities among the Nein? Marisha: “Beau has always admired Fjord and respected his ability to speak like an adult. It does feel like-- are Beau and Fjord the only adults in the room?” Travis points out Caduceus and Caleb’s leadership as well. “In that conversation, at least, just because I want it to be a tiny bit meta, a lot of it’s just mindset. Fjord knows that Beau is a world-breaker, can kick that ass, and the idea that part of the focus would be diverted towards how can we get out here, it was feeling a little bit more like we’re done for rather than we can do this. It was his way of doing the old coach reminder of stop thinking of the ways you’re going to get out of this and start thinking of the ways you’re going to dominate this.” Marisha mentions that Beau and Travis are kind of the two who aren’t saying goodbyes, and yet they’re two of the only ones who just have the Nein. “Even Caleb was allowed to say goodbye to his cat! We don’t even have that. It’s just the Nein. They are the ultimate goodbyes for us, if it comes to that. But hopefully it won’t come to that.” Travis: “There’s a certain drive that comes with not having wrapped it up in a pretty bow.”
On Fjord’s decision to have the Rangers engage: “Yeah, that one stings. I was suffering from the good ol’ regurts almost as soon as it happens. I realized it was just Essek and Fjord, and he was just asking me, and boy there were a lot of horseshit RP things going around my head.” He kept in mind that the captain has to be decisive and focus on his people. “I in no way thought of Dagon at all. Fuck, did I send Dagon to his death? Did that headstrong dude go, nah, I’ll do my own thing and get out of there? I hadn’t really experienced that kind of instant regret in a gameplay situation yet. But in leadership moments, or when you have to make a decision like that, sometimes it’s important to take a fucking minute and think about what you’re doing. Even in D&D. I wish I had taken a moment to say, how far away are they? If you engage them from afar, can you slow them down long enough? Set an ambush if you can, but at least be at max.”
On Beau’s meditation attempt that ended in contact with Lucien: “I think I know exactly what he was trying to do. He was trying to put another fuckin’ eye somewhere on me. I was remembering Keyleth putting her hand in the spinning black orb of death under the Ziggurat and I rolled a natural twenty.” Travis asks if she thinks she and Caleb are “next up in the queue” now that so many of the Tombtakers are dead. “Yeah. I’m gonna get turned.” Travis: “I’ll kill you real good, Beau. I’ll take Caleb first because he made me promise, but I’ll get you good, too.”
On Fjord now having more information about Vandren: “I love it. I feel like such a fuckin’ moron. It never occurred to me for one second that a shipwrecked person that survived would have maybe just wound up on the nearest island. Nope. Didn’t even bother to do the Castaway grid and check the nearest body of land. I’m a fuckin’ terrible D&D player.” Fjord washed up extremely far away from the wreck. “I love that he’s there. I cannot wait to go find him and have a conversation. I just don’t know which will come first: going to Darktow and confronting Sabien or going to see Vanden. But both of those things are on the list, for sure. Just for closure, I mean, damn.” Brian asks if Fjord is okay with Jester having reached out. “Yeah, totally. Fjord is a big dummy in a lot of ways.” He mentions that Fjord has a lot of ideas in his head about what it means to “be a man” that keeps him from asking for help when he needs it. “When Jester did that, it just reaffirmed his feelings for her and how she feels for him. It’ll take those kind of people in his life to help him along to the things that he wants when he’s too stupid or shy to acknowledge it himself.”
How about that alliance with Essek? Marisha: “Here’s the thing. Beau wasn’t like, ooh, allying with Trent, that’s icky because of moral reasons. It’s not that. The more allies, the better in this moment. Teaming up with Magneto kind of situation. But Beau’s whole concern was is this going to distract you from the overall mission. I couldn’t imagine walking alongside someone who had just tortured me in the way that Trent has. We spent so many episodes watching Caleb have these post-traumatic flashes of when he lit his family on fire. Caleb’s a shotgun, he’s such a good damage-dealer, and if he can’t cope with it. That was Beau’s concern.” Travis: “And just to go along with your Magneto reference, Essek is one powerful person. Trent brings the acolytes. But we recognize that if we stop the Tombtakers and Lucien then we probably have to stop Trent and the Vollstruckers. But I wanted to open it to Caleb, because we gotta face that motherfucker at some point.”
Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Yasha! (krisjaded on Instagram, photography by adambenfer on Instagram)
On Beau’s plan to put a possible eavesdropper off their trail at Pumat’s: “I mean, everything is a long shot.” Taliesin suggested the idea. “I said Darktow because I thought, hey, if he tries to follow us to Darktow, he’ll probably get murdered. He’ll never make it back. We have no idea. It could have been completely transparent, or maybe he’ll be stupid enough to actually try it.”
Fan Art of the Week: a lovely Caduceus! (by arcanum.dice on Instagram)
How’s the relationship with Yasha been going? “It’s so new! And fresh and weird, and she’s trying to remember to be like, oh, that’s right! You’re my girlfriend! I owe you some attention, that’s right. It’s nice to have somebody. We were talking about not really having anyone to say goodbye to in this round of goodbyes, Beau is looking to the future and those relationships are keeping her afloat.”
On seeing more of Aeor, looking forward to it? Travis: “I really want them dead first. If collections of explorers and expeditions from the Cerberus Assembly and the Dynasty have turned up stuff they don’t know what to do with yet, what the fuck are a bunch of chuckle-dicks like us going to do with it?” They’re interested in a distant sort of way - there are bigger issues at hand.
Travis mentions that he’s never been quite so emotionally invested in the game before and notes that was at the root of his competitive attitude at the end of the last episode. “The lines were so blurred in that way. It’s just a testament to the never-ending learning process that comes from this game that I underestimated my entire life.”
454 notes
·
View notes