#Car Trunk Mats

[autofit01]

[plinkcat-gif]

covered in blood. hi guy.

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

My seat protector for my car arrives today I’m so excited

[bad-at-metaphors]

I wonder if my customers EVER look at me while I'm checking them in and feel any level of remorse for breaking the "no pets in the loan car" rule

[criminalamnesia]

Not a request but NEW TRAITOR CHAP WHEN??? prioritize urself no rush Pookie just the ppl gotta know

part 7 is here 🙏

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

it was pouring rain as you slid from the taxi, the driver attempting to yell at you to shut the door as thunder rumbled overhead.

you paid him no heed; boots splashed in murky puddles as you pushed the door closed and moved towards the yellow cab’s trunk.

you could barely hear yourself think. the rain was battering the ground as if locked in a viscous war with the cracked pavement— puddles forming as the asphalt resisted with all its might. it wasn’t enough, water seeping into the ground and muddying the grass nearby, drowning it mercilessly.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before shutting the trunk. you’d barely stepped back from the car before it was speeding off, kicking up water and splashing your legs.

you didn’t mind— you were soaked through to the bone, anyways. besides, you didn’t mind the storm. it was comfort— a distraction from what lay ahead.

your new team. a small, covert operations group made up of the best of the best. two sergeants, a lieutenant, a captain— and they wanted one more soldier.

the opening couldn’t have come at a better time. you’d run your course with your old squad. they’d been fine— until they weren’t. carelessness and ignorance from teammates almost resulted in your untimely death, and laswell hadn’t questioned your transfer request after hearing the tale.

in fact, she’d recommended the one-four-one to you.

you thought you’d be meeting them on base, but the captain had requested you meet them here, instead. a run-down old diner, with its bright, neon pink sign blinking down at you through the rain.

you inhaled, then exhaled. clenched your fists, then unclenched them. it was a habit you’d had since you were a child. it forced you to slow down and think, to overcome the emotions you were lost in.

you blinked. rain ran down your face, creating false tears as it streamed from the corners of your eyes. you were sure you looked a sight.

another inhale, another exhale, and then you moved towards the diner’s door. you pushed it open, stepping inside and wiping your boots on the mat in front of the door.

“I think you’re gonna need to do more than that to dry off, sweetheart” a woman’s voice calls to you, causing you to look up towards the counter. she’s grimacing, looking you up and down. no doubt she’ll be following your path through the building with a mop in hand.

“sorry,” you tell her, trying to brush some water from your jacket. “forgot my umbrella.”

the woman gave a huff, waving her hand before turning and attending to an ancient-looking coffee maker.

you take the time to glance around the diner then, noting the substantial lack of customers. only two booths were occupied, one containing a young couple tangled in each other’s arms, and the other containing a man wearing a baseball cap with the UK flag patched on it.

he looked up from his phone as you approached, seemingly unsurprised based on the grin he gave you.

“glad to see you got here in one piece,” he says as you shrug off your bag, placing it on the floor as you slide into the seat across from him.

“one drenched piece,” you say, and he gives a small chuckle.

“im kyle,” the man tells you. “don’t know what laswell told you,” he clicks off his phone and places it on the table. “but im one of the sergeants.”

you nod. “callsign ‘gaz,’ right?”

he gives a nod of his own. his phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. his eyes glance down, scan the message, then meet yours once more.

“rest of the team got held up. price is in a meeting. johnny and ghost are on assignment, but they’re due back any day now.”

“so you’re the welcome committee by default, huh?” you say, and he laughs.

“guess i am. have i scared you off yet?”

“dunno,” you tell him. “but laswell sings your praises. the captain’s, especially.”

“she sings yours, too.” kyle says.

you give a small nod, your mind racing at what laswell may have told the task force. you weren’t bad at your job— you were great at it. a great shot, a reliable solider, a tireless sentry.

your emotions got the better of you at times, that was all. attachments and bonds that formed, linking you and your fellow soldiers together in the web of warfare. tying you around the wrist and dragging you along, for better or worse. little siblings or lovers evolving from what once had been just another set of boots on the ground.

this job was all you had. you found family where you had too, and it made you all the more loyal. but when you were spurned? when the fire leapt from the pit and scorched your skin?

you weren’t quick to forgive, and you found that reasonable in this line of work. mistakes by teammates could get you killed. who could blame you for holding a grudge against an ally who had almost cost you your life?

it’s why you were here now. a new start with a new team— a team of the best, you included.

kyle’s phone buzzes again. he picks it up, the screen illuminating his face as the lights flicker overhead. the storm wasn’t letting up.

“cap’s on his way— says he’ll be here in less than 30.”

“price, right?” you recall his name. kyle nods.

“don’t tell him I told you,” he leans in, a mischievous look in his eyes, “but he’s been lookin’ forward to meeting you. maybe even more than johnny has.”

“why’s that?”

“said the one-four-one is overdue for someone else who can kick johnny’s ass. wants you to knock him down a few more pegs.”

you laugh at that, giving a small shake of your head. kyle’s lips curl into a smile. “nah, he’s just happy to have some more hands on deck. always helps to have another person that’ll watch your back.”

as kyle starts talking again, you find your nerves settling.

maybe this team could be your new family.

you looked down at your hands, noting the slight shake of them. you don’t think they’d been steady since before everything happened.

your eyes glance to the ugly, scarred stump of the finger you’d lost. simon hadn’t chopped it off prettily, and it’d been stitched up hastily. you couldn’t blame the doctor, there had been more pressing injuries to attend to.

such as the bone-deep cut to one leg, growing infected from your time spent in the chair. the scar was long, stretching from the top of your thigh to your knee. it was still pink, a sign of your body still trying to put itself back together.

your torso wasn’t much better. jagged scars and puckered knots of skin marred your image. both from before and from after.

your eyes met your own in the mirror. you barely recognized yourself. the anger within you still burned, but its flame had reduced to a simmer. exhaustion, apathy, and shame had taken its place.

perhaps that was a good thing. it saved you the energy of fighting the men you inevitably saw every day. despite your numerous pleas and demands for them to simply leave you alone, they seemed to have a hard time listening. it made you want to scream. to hurt them, digging your fingers into skin until they understood the pain behind your words.

a knock sounded at the door. you didn’t move.

a knock again. you could hear the shuffle of feet outside the door. you wished whoever it was would leave you be.

another knock, accompanied by the soft timbre of kyle’s voice.

“love, you alright in there?” he was saying. you still stood before the mirror.

things had been different since you attacked the doctor. it had only been a few days, but word spread quickly through base. if people had avoided you before, you were like the plague now.

and the shame you felt was insurmountable. the pain and regret and fury were building like a tidal wave in your stomach, rising and choking the air from your lungs.

you wanted to leave this place. get away from the men you once called family, the one you once called yours.

but leaving meant the end of your career. you just had to hold out until kate arranged your transfer, that’s all. just a few more days, right?

and then this place and these people wouldn’t be a constant reminder of what had happened to you. of what it had done to you, physically and mentally.

“go, kyle,” you called out to him, breaking from your trance as you reached for the scratchy robe johnny had gifted you one christmas.

“not until i see you breathin’, love.”

you sigh, tying the robe shut and hugging the material to your body. you moved to the door, turning the lock before inching it open.

“breathing,” you tell him, watching as his eyes flick away from yours. god, it made you want to strangle him.

to yell at him, to yell at all of them— "you did this, and you should be able to look me in the eyes and see it.”

“now go.”

he looks at you again, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “will you let me in?” he asks, and you scoff as you move to slam the door.

“fuck off, kyle.”

but he’s quick, and his hand shoots out, grasping the door’s wooden edge and keeping it from closing.

“we need to talk.”

“whatever you need to say, you can say it from there,” you tell him, and he pauses for a minute before he nods.

“doc is asking about you again. she’s up and runnin’ around. said she wants to see you.”

your lips press into a thin line. you didn’t deserve that woman’s kindness, not after what you’d done to her.

you hadn’t been in your right mind, but that didn’t excuse it. you had bloodied your fists; harmed an innocent in the war between you and your own mind.

you didn’t want to see her still worrying about you when you had assured her you were fine. you had left her supervision, and then you’d attacked her. and you hadn’t stopped until simon had pulled you away.

you would’ve killed her, you know that in your heart. you would’ve killed her, thinking she was one of the men who had wanted to kill you.

“tell her im fine,” you said, your hand tightening around the door’s knob.

“i think she’d rather see that for herself,” he says.

“im fine,” you repeat. “i’ll be out of everyone’s hair in a few days, anyways.”

kyle’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “you’re leaving?”

he knew this, they all did. perhaps they just didn’t truly believe it. all of them, every single one, still thought you’d turn around and run back into their arms.

bastards.

“as soon as laswell gives the word,” you reply. “should be soon.”

kyle doesn’t speak. he’s obviously biting his tongue— you’d seen the expression that was on his face enough to know when he was holding back, but you didn’t prod like you would’ve before.

let him keep his secrets, lies, promises, and sorries. you didn’t need them anymore.

“don’t bother me again,” you said before shutting the door in his face.

you hear him sigh on the other side of the wood, then hear the retreat of his steps. you turn back to the mirror, snarl, and grab the alarm clock from your nightstand.

you throw it into the glass, shattering it to pieces. seven years of bad luck, you think.

well, it couldn’t get much worse, could it?

kyle sighs, staring at your door for a second longer before turning away. simon looks down at him from where he was leaning against the wall, hidden from your view, his muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“surprised?” simon asks as the two of them retreat down the hallway. he makes sure they’re far enough from your door before speaking, so that you won’t hear his voice.

“we knew it was happening, price said as much after that whole thing with johnny,” kyle replies, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “just thought this might change things.”

“change ‘em how?” simon says. “if anythin’, this speeds it up. they’re a liability now.”

“they’re hurt, ghost,” kyle retorts, his eyes meeting his superior’s. “that’s ptsd. not everyone’s as forgiving as the doc. they attack someone outside and that’s a fucking felony.”

“that’s not our problem, sergeant,” comes simon’s baritone reply, and kyle stops.

“you’re a fuckin’ case yourself, y’know that, LT?” he says, and simon stops. “we all played a part,” kyle continues. “but you? you would’ve killed ‘em if we never knew the truth. i know you would’ve. i’ve seen you do it.”

the men stare at each other. simon’s expression is hidden underneath his balaclava, but kyle knows it’s unreadable regardless.

mean, old ghost. heartless bastard, loyal to the mission only. that’s what the others around base whispered to each other.

kyle had seen proof to the contrary. yes, simon was loyal to the mission. but he was also loyal to his team, his family. you.

he was loyal to you.

“watch yourself, sergeant,” simon speaks, his voice a dangerous rumble.

kyle scoffs and walks off, shaking his head.

simon watches him go, his breath steady.

kyle didn’t understand him, not really. not the way you had begun to. and that was his own fault, he knows it. forever holding those close to him at arms length for fear of the worst.

he’d let you in— let you invade that space he enforced so ruthlessly. and the worst had happened.

kyle doesn’t know this is tearing him in half; none of the team does. they don’t understand that simon wants you to stay because you’re you, but he wants you gone because he can see how this is killing you.

even when he’s the villain in your story, he’s still trying to look out for you— in his own, twisted way.

he doesn’t regret it. that is cemented in his mind. but as he grapples with his own emotions, his mind in its own turmoil, he knows he wants you to be okay.

“im sorry,” he had spoken to deaf ears.

sorry for the ripping apart of your life, but not sorry for what he had done.

deep down, he knew you would never forgive them. he knew that leaving this team would be the best thing for you.

he knew, he knew, he knew.

knowing and accepting are two different things.

hope this was worth the wait! i think the next part will be the end, unless my idea changes 👀

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Glocking Out

Friday night should mean a cozy night in with a TV show and a bowl of ice cream. But instead, here I am, working late in the office, trying to finish a project to deliver to my boss by Monday morning. There’s no one else in the office, and when I finally finish up nearing midnight, the entire corporate building is empty, lights long dimmed.

I drag myself out of the building, ready to get home and collapse into bed to sleep for the entire weekend. The click of my heels is the only sound that rings through the night as I exit the elevator into the parking garage and let out a tired sigh into the quiet air.

I click my car fob and open my trunk as I approach the car, tossing my purse into the back and digging around to look for a pair of slippers to change into. I’m absolutely too tired to make the drive home in heels and the idea of fuzzy slippers around my feet is the only thing keeping me sane right now.

While I’m still bent over, buried head-first in my trunk, I suddenly feel a presence behind me. Before I can react, I feel the cold, hard press of metal against my back and the ominous click of a gun’s safety coming off. I freeze in terror and my throat pushes out a pathetic whimper of fear.

I hear a deep laugh echo around me and a man’s voice, “Stay still, princess. I’d hate to paint the inside of your trunk with your blood.” A big, warm hand presses against my spine, pushing me even further into the trunk while the gun digs uncomfortably against me.

I let out a choked gasp, “What do you want? Take my purse! I have cash, take whatever you want, please don’t hurt me!” My voice is shaky and I can feel tremors of fear wrack my body.

He laughs again. “Oh, princess, I don’t want money. But I will be taking whatever I want from you,” he purrs, the innuendo clear in his voice. His hand leaves my back to run down my body and he grips my ass hard before landing a harsh spank against me. I whine out a plea, “No! Please! Please, just let me go!”

“No can do, princess. A pretty little thing like you, all alone, in the middle of the night with no one around. It’s like you’re beckoning to me,” he growls as his hand continues to knead my ass over the skirt I’m wearing. Tears are in my eyes now as I stare blankly into my trunk, my face pressed against the rough car trunk mat.

Moments later, he threads a hand through my hair and grips me hard, pulling me out of the trunk and onto my feet. He spins me around and for the first time, I get a good look at him.

He’s huge, in both size and height, his massive frame towering over me. Even without the gun, he could probably break me easily, and that thought sends more fear slithering down my spine. His eyes are filled with a sadistic gleam that makes me want to curl up and hide. A harsh yank from his hand in my hair makes me cry out in pain and he leads me to the passenger side of the car.

“Get in the car and don’t do anything stupid. I’d hate to have to kill you before we have any real fun,” he says menacingly. I slide into the car on shaky legs and he slams the door shut. He makes his way to the driver side and without another word, he peels out of the parking garage.

A little while later, he pulls the car off the main road onto a tiny trail that I’d never even noticed before. Several minutes of random turns and paths in the pitch black forest that I would never be able to remember or identify bring us to a tiny little cabin. It would be quaint if it weren’t inhabited by the psychopath holding me at gunpoint.

He drags me out of the car, the gun never leaving my side and we step into the cabin. He herds me into the bedroom and the door clicks shut behind us. The room is awash in a soft yellow light and decorated in soft fall tones that, in any other circumstance, would be incredibly romantic.

He smiles with a sparkle in his terrifyingly sadistic eyes and a shiver runs down my spine. “Strip for me,” he says as he steps back to sit at the edge of the bed, gun still leveled at me.

I shake my head desperately, “No, please! Please, anything but that, please!”

He laughs at me, “Come on, pretty princess, I’m not a patient man. Either you strip for me or it gets ugly.”

Tears well up in my eyes and I blink them back. I glance towards the door, I’m closer to it than he is, maybe if I can surprise him, I can get out of the room before he gets a chance to stop me.

He sees my line of thinking and chuckles again. “You might outrun me but you can’t outrun a bullet, princess.”

His words land like a punch to my stomach and I look back at him with defeat. My shaky hands move to the buttons of my blouse as I comply with his initial request. He smiles.

I pull off my top and slide it off my shoulders before going to unzip my skirt and stand before him in my bra, panties, and stockings.

“Bra off, leave the rest on,” he says, his voice deep with desire. “Come here,” he commands, gesturing towards the floor between his legs with the gun.

I unclasp the bra and let it drop to the floor, where I fix my gaze. I pad towards him and stand in front of him for a moment before I lower myself down to my knees, my form fitting into his spread legs.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, princess. Such a good girl,” his deep voice sends shivers down my spine. I keep my gaze on the floor, not wanting to make eye contact with him. He doesn’t like that.

I feel the cold metal of the gun slide beneath my chin and I gasp as he raises my head with his gun. My wide eyes meet his and I see the satisfaction in his gaze as it locks onto mine. He leaves the gun against me as he jerks his chin downwards. “Take my cock out, princess.”

I glance down and see the outline of his hardness pressing against his pants. He looks huge. He sucks his teeth at me, “Come on, don’t keep me waiting now.”

My fingers shake as I undo his belt and the fastening on his pants before I reach in and pull his hard cock out. I let out a quiet whine when I see it. He is huge, tip already leaking precum and an angry shade of red that looks so mean. I shouldn’t be turned on by my attacker’s cock but I absentmindedly lick my lips and I catch the leer on his face that makes my thighs clench.

“You know what to do, princess,” he purrs, tangling his free hand into my hair. I give in and lean down to run my tongue gently along the vein that runs through his cock. He tastes divine, the clean smell of his skin combined with the warmth and weight of his cock in my mouth making my brain go fuzzy. I hear him groan above me, “That’s it, suck my cock, princess.”

I give him a few more kitten licks before I wrap my lips fully around the crown of his cock and suck. “Fuck,” his groan is guttural and his grip tightens on my hair. I moan softly around his cock and I feel him twitch in my mouth. I breathe in through my nose as I swallow more of his cock down my throat.

“Fuck, that’s it, good girl. Take my cock down your throat,” he groans and his fingers dig harshly into my scalp. I slowly work my way back up his cock and set a smooth rhythm, bobbing my head up and down and wrapping my hand around what doesn’t fit into my mouth. There’s a pleasant haze that surrounds me right now, his cock in my mouth and his fingers in my hair. I squirm a little on my knees, my pussy clenching as warmth settles into my core.

Suddenly, he yanks me off his cock without warning. I gasp and look up at him. “I want you to ride me,” he says, smirking at me and gesturing toward the bed with his gun. The gun that I’d almost forgotten about. Seeing it now sends another shock of fear through my body, pushing away some of the arousal from earlier.

He lays back onto the bed, sprawled out like a king, hard cock jutting out from between his legs. I absentmindedly clench my thighs together and I know he noticed because he laughs. “Come on, princess. I know you want to.”

I stand and slide my panties off before slipping onto the bed, slinging a leg over him to get situated. He stays still, watching me with a predatory look in his eye, gun now retrained on me. “That’s it, princess,” he purrs as I settle myself over him.

“Is your pretty pussy wet for me?” He asks. I want to lie and say no but it’s no use, I’m so wet I’m dripping all over him. I whimper and nod and he laughs again. “Better put that pussy to use then, come on, ride me, princess.”

I brace my hands against his chest and lower myself onto his cock. The delicious stretch of him filling me makes me whine and I dig my fingers into his chest. He moans at the feeling of my wet heat surrounding him and his hips come up to meet mine, forcing the last bit of his cock into me.

He feels so fucking good inside of me and every single cell of my body wants more. I let out a low moan as my hips start to move, every single movement making his cock rub up against my g-spot. “That’s it, ride my cock, princess.”

I let out a broken moan as my hips keep up their movements. My back arches and I let my eyes flutter closed as I lose myself in the sensations. Suddenly, I feel cold, hard metal brush against my clit and my eyes fly open with a cry.

I look down and my blood freezes when I see him, running the tip of the gun against my clit. He grins up at him, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “Don’t stop now, princess. You’re doing so well, I’m gonna help you and play with this little clitty.”

I whimper as he pushes the gun harder against my sensitive, swollen nub, the friction making delicious shivers run up and down my spine.

“Come on, princess. You’re going to cum all over my cock while I rub your clit with my gun,” he says, each pass of the gun over my clit pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm.

The fear and pleasure mix into a dark combination that forces my body higher and higher. I can feel the cold metal of the gun warming against the burning heat of my cunt and every nerve in my body seems to be coiled tight as a spring. My hips are jerkily moving on top of him as I chase my own release.

Suddenly, he moves underneath me and slams him cock deeper into me while holding me down. I shatter with a wail as my pussy clenches around him. I hear his curse as his release quickly follows, his hips never stopping their relentless assault on me and the gun never moving off my clit as he fucks me through my orgasm.

Eventually, he pulls the gun away and I collapse down onto his chest, boneless and limp. I feel his fingers thread through my hair gently and his arm comes up to wrap around my body, keeping me pressed against his chest.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs into my hair as he presses soft kisses into the crown of my head. I make a soft noise back at him and I hear him laugh softly and affectionately.

I stay in his arms a little longer before I raise my head to look at him. “Thank you, honey,” I say before pressing a sweet kiss onto his chest.

He hugs me tighter, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I will say, you were in the office for so long, I was soooo bored waiting for you.”

I giggle at him, “If I’d known you were waiting, I would’ve finished faster.” He huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well I think I did a pretty good job helping you “glock” out.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I choke out a laugh.

“Shut up and sleep.”

—

pls appreciate the title because i thought of it and just had to write something to fit it teehee

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

He's My Man (Part 5)

Summary: Russell's taken care of the reader's problem but things take a turn and the happy couple may not be so happy after all...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 6,300ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury/past drugging/brief mention of attempted assault (not shown) mention, angst, fluff, smut, stalker, murder, self-worth issues

A/N: Thank you all for taking this journey with me with writing this new character! I might return to this world someday but until then, please enjoy the finale!

__________

When you pulled up to the dark house, you noticed Russell’s car had been pulled into the garage and covered with a tarp. You swallowed as you pulled in beside it, biting back bile when Owen parked right behind you, preventing any escape if it came to that. You’d given Russell nearly thirty minutes notice to prepare. You really hoped whatever he had planned was going to be over with fast.

“Fuck,” said Owen, dashing from his car in the downpour to inside the garage. He shook himself off like a dog and pulled off his baseball cap. You’d seen the gash on his forehead before but from the overhead light, a skull fracture was very visible. The dried blood had matted into his thick hair and, along with the other injuries, made him look half-dead. 

“Why don’t you go relax inside, honey?” you forced out when you exited, slamming the door shut loudly, hoping Russell picked up on the fact you were here. “I’ll get the bags and then I’ll take a look at those cuts.”

“Thanks, baby. Don’t take too long.” You didn’t like how he kept saying that. He’d hung off of you at the store. Even if he wasn’t a raging psycho, personal space was still a thing.

You pretended to fuss about at the trunk as he went in the door from the garage to the house. It was quiet for a beat, your gaze locked on the open door in the corner.

Two quick shots rang out and you hit the cement floor hard. Nothing could be heard over the rain, your heart hammering away in your chest. Russell wouldn’t have shot Owen, would he? No, Russell would have snuck up on him, taken him out before he knew what hit him.

So had Owen been shooting? Was Russell hurt? You slowly sat up on your hands and knees, crawling along the side of the car until you reached the hood. You peaked your head around the corner and saw a pair of legs lying on the ground through the open door. It looked like Owen so you carefully rose, flinching when Russell came bounding in from behind you.

He held up his hands, your eyes widening at the blood staining his crisp white tee. 

“What-”

“My stitches tore,” he said, turning his bicep towards you, the blood staining underneath the bandage. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, glancing back inside to where the body lay motionless. “Did you kill him?”

“Not yet,” said Russell, inching past you towards a work bench. “Although he did shoot my fucking front door. Do you have any idea how much a custom mahogany door costs? I might kill him for that alone.”

Russell opened a drawer, taking out duct tape and zip ties. He slammed it shut, pausing with his back to you.

“He’s not going to leave you alone if I let him live.” 

“I know. He’s been following me for awhile I guess,” you said. 

“I can frame him for Elpine’s murder if you don’t want me to kill him.” You leaned back against your car, Russell setting the items on the bench and joining you. “I don’t have to…you know.”

“How are you going to kill him?” you asked after a moment.

“Bag over the head. He’s passed out. He wouldn’t even feel it. Are you sure that’s what-” You went to his workbench and ripped off a garbage bag from the roll, Russell closing his eyes. “Y/N, you should stay out here. Let me do this.”

“Owen started slipping roofies into my drinks when I was fifteen.” His head snapped up as you sighed. “He drugged me twice but nothing happened because my dad was around. I had to be more careful once dad started to lose it. Owen’s a good decade older than me I’m sure you noticed. I’ve been scared of this guy for too long. I’m not asking you to kill him. I’m asking you to show me how to do this myself.”

“I appreciate how strong you are but I’m doing it,” he said, taking the bag from you. You dropped your hand, frowning up at him. He sighed, stroking your cheek with his clean hand. “Your soul has enough scars for a lifetime. Don’t add more.”

“You don’t have to kill someone for me, Russell. You don’t need that on you either. Look what you’ve already done.”

“I won’t lose any sleep over him. You can do something for me though.” You sighed, nodding once. “Go back to the store and buy some extra large garbage bags and some duct tape, got it?”

“Um, yeah. Are you-”

“Y/N. We’re on the clock. We’ll talk later,” he said, kissing your temple. “Now go.”

Three Hours Later

“To be perfectly clear, I’m doing this for Y/N, not you,” said Colter with a coldness you didn’t love. You knew Russell’s relationship with his little brother was strained but you’d thought it had gotten better over the past few days.

“Yeah, well it don’t take a genius to see you like her better,” said Russell, Colter rolling his eyes, an uncharacteristic move. “I’ll never ask you for a thing again. You never even have to speak to me. Think what you want about me. Just please do this for Y/N’s sake.”

“I already…” huffed Colter when you side eyed him with narrowed eyes. He let out a slow exhale. “Fine. You owe me, Russell. Big.”

“Colter,” you said, nodding towards his truck. You left Russell as he went back to taping the large cooler in the garage shut. You assumed he’d put Owen inside and cleaned up while you were gone at the store. The rain had paused momentarily but there was another batch of storms coming through soon. You sighed as you stopped next to the younger Shaw, Colter crossing his arms. “I’m not letting you do this. I know Russell asked but I can’t let you move a body for me.”

He narrowed his eyes, face turning into a scowl. 

“I’m not moving…Russell!” Russ’ head popped up, Colter becoming increasingly annoyed. “Tell me what is going on right now or I swear you and me are done. Forever.”

Russell sighed, throwing his head back. “I may have lied about the Y/N wanting to tag along with you so she can tidy up her place in Virginia.”

“You what?” you asked, storming over to him. “You were trying to pawn me off on Colter again? For what! Owen’s dead, there’s no one left to bother me.”

“Sweetie,” said Russell, closing his eyes. “Owen should not have made it out alive and the fact he did isn’t good.” 

Slowly Russell met your gaze, ignoring Colter behind you. “So is this how it’s going to be? Any time everything’s not perfect you’re going to drop me on your brothers doorstep at the drop of a hat? News flash, Colter isn’t my babysitter. I’m a grown woman who has seen and handled more crap than you know. I thought you didn’t think of me as a damsel.”

“I don’t but-”

“But you don’t want me around for the hard stuff. I got the message.” 

“Y/N, someone else could still be left. They could kill you-” You held up your hand, Colter heading back to his truck to give you some space.

“I think I finally understand how you’re so perfect but alone. You live this life like you’re this happy go lucky guy but it’s a mask. All you actually see is the dark side of it. Of everything. You are more than happy to step into my dark side but you won’t let me see yours? You wouldn’t let me kill Owen. You won’t let me help clean it up. Even when it’s because of me. You have to always be the hero. Honestly, thinking about it, it’s been all my shit we’ve talked about. All you say is your got a dark past but you haven’t shared diddly squat. Is this how it’s going to be Russell? Because frankly, I want more than that. I told you I don’t need you to do things for me, I just need you to help me do them.”

Russell swallowed, face going stoic. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

Your heart dropped like a rock into the pit of your stomach, Russell’s jaw clenching. “You should pack up your stuff here and go with Colter. Go back to Virginia. You’re probably right. This was just attraction, plain and simple.”

“Russell, that’s not what I was saying-” 

“Yeah, it was. Just go. Please. I’ll deal with Owen. Just go back to Virginia and start your life over away from people like us.” With that he brushed past you for Colter, ignoring his repeated calls. 

“Asshole,” you mumbled as you went inside and shoved the few belongings that weren’t in the trunk of your car into a bag. You very purposefully left every pair of underwear, bra and pajamas he’d bought you behind. The cheap sports bra and cotton underwear you’d bought earlier would get you through until you were home.

If that’s how Russell wanted to end things, fine. You were free of the mafia. Free of guys with fucked up pasts. Your options were limitless.

And thank god Colter was smart enough to not ask about your red rimmed eyes by the time you were on the road.

Five Days Later

You gave Colter a wave from your front step as he drove off down the street. It’d taken only two days to drive cross country this time. Apparently you drove faster when you were upset. Or you didn’t sleep as much. Either way, Colter didn’t ask and was happy to get to Virginia where he had a missing accountant to find.

He used your kitchen as a base of operations and you let him crash in the guest room. In exchange, Colter got you hooked up with the basics of reward work. There were some extra perils to the job being a woman but also advantages that Colter didn’t have. He went over finding jobs, finding a team, learning how to get access to tools and databases. You didn’t have a lot of confidence in going after a full fledged disappearance yet but Colter mentioned it wasn’t always people that were what was missing.

By the end of his short stay, you had information overload but were grateful for the chance to start doing something good for once in your life.

Meanwhile, Russell hadn’t reached out once. You had to assume he’d disposed of Owen. You weren’t sure why you were still waiting for a text or a call. It was pretty clear things were over. Russell was too protective and you weren’t going to let another man tell you what to do again. 

Yet, you knew you were at fault too. Russell had just killed a guy in his house for you and he knew a hell lot more about getting away with a murder than you did. Russell had points for not wanting to involve you. And you had to be an asshole and pressure him for more when there was literally a dead body at your feet.

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, leaning against the kitchen island with your head lowered. “Why did I do that?”

The doorbell rang, your head slowly rising. You sighed as you went to it, pulling it open quickly. 

“Did you forget-” You cut yourself off when you didn’t see Colter standing there. No, instead stood Russell in a trim black suit, his hair slicked back and a bouquet of orange and red flowers in his hands. “Russ? What-”

“Let me get this out and then I’ll get out of your life forever if that’s what you want,” he said. You leaned against the door jam, Russell taking a deep breath. “Y/N, I like you. A lot. Too much probably for how long we’ve known each other. Everything you said was right. I avoid my problems because it’s a hell of a lot easier to fix someone else’s in my experience.”

He swallowed, glancing at his feet. “Owen could have hurt you at that store. He could have taken you, shown up at the house and killed you. I fucked up and you don’t seem to understand that Owen’s obsession and how fucking smart you are is the only reason we’re still here and he’s not. I told you I took care of it and I didn’t. I was angry at myself and wanted you somewhere safer than with me so I pushed your buttons on purpose. I lied on purpose so you’d get mad and leave with Colter. You deserve a good man and I’m not him. I kill people. I use sex as a way to be close to women but then never let myself be in a relationship because I don’t want them to see beneath the surface and see the shit that’s in there. I want better for you than me.”

Russell looked up, a tiny smile forming on his face. “Can we try being friends again and maybe I can become that man that deserves you along the way?”

“Russell,” you sighed. You stepped forward, cupping his cheeks, green eyes full of caution. “We can be friends. I’d like it if we were more than that, though.” 

He slowly smiled, his lip ticking up when you stroked his cheek. 

“I’m sorry for jumping down your throat. You do not have to share your deepest darkest secrets with me, never mind the first day we’re actually together. That was unfair of me. I just want you to know you can share them with me if you want to.” 

“I’ve killed a lot of people, Y/N,” he said softly. “Dozens. Some of them, most of them, I never gave two shits about. No nightmares. No trauma. That’s not normal. It’s been years since I’ve felt all that bad about killing.”

“You don’t need to feel bad about killing monsters,” you said. He closed his eyes and you leaned in, kissing his forehead. “S’that why you didn’t want me to kill Owen?”

“Moral and practical reasons,” he whispered. “I don’t kill out of revenge. I don’t think I ever have. It always has another purpose. Protect someone, protect a group or the general public from a threat. Some psych told me once that’s why I don’t struggle as much with what I’ve done as some other folks. The way I grew up helped me with that. But I do struggle with it still and you’ve struggled enough. You don’t need that on you.”

“I understand. I’m so used to being controlled and told what to do…I can never go back to that.”

“You never will,” he said, opening his eyes. You tilted your head, Russell turned into your touch to match. “I’m sure I’ll fuck things up again. We can be friends if that’s all you ever want.”

“I don’t want to be just friends. So what if we fight? That’s what couples do.” You took his hand in yours and the flowers in the other, leading him inside behind you. 

“I quit my job a few days ago.” You froze, spinning around on your heels. He shrugged, still holding your hand. “I can’t change my life without making some changes.”

“You still want to do that home brew for a career?” 

“Yeah. I’d like to give it a shot.” He spotted the stacks of papers on your kitchen table and open computer. “Colter offer you a spot on his team?”

“He did at first but I want to try doing it my way, stop patching up the bad guys and doing something good. He warned me it can be dangerous work though, especially as a woman flying solo.”

“He makes very good points,” said Russell, thumbing at your lip when you smiled. “What’s that look for?”

“Maybe you could be on my team sometimes, show me a few moves from the expert.” You started to walk backwards towards your bedroom, Russell’s eyebrows raising. “If you want to.”

“I’ll show you any kind of moves you’d like, qark.” He held his ground though, stopping you in place. You waited for the but to come, for him to push back on getting back together. Instead, he took the flowers from your hand and went into your kitchen, finding a tall glass and filling it with water. He set the flowers on the island before rejoining you, resting his hands on your hips. “I like the idea of working together as partners.”

“But…” you said, Russell kissing the top of your head.

“But you are far too kind, my queen of darkness. I was expecting to get told to get lost tonight and I have plans I can’t get out of with my friends very shortly.”

“Oh,” you said, Russell’s finger tips finding the ends of your hair and playing with a few strands. “If you have plans, we can meet up another-”

“You want to know my dark side?” Your eyes flicked to meet his, your head nodding once. “You can’t unknow what kind of man I am once you do. I don’t blame you if you change your mind about me.”

“I want to know you. All of you.” He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Go change into something discreet. Dark clothes. Leave your phone home. If at any point you want to leave, say so and I bring you right back here, understand?” You nodded, Russell backing away. “Mind if I change in your bathroom?”

“You can change in the bedroom with me.” He smirked but backed away.

“Another time. We have an appointment to keep.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, Russell glancing away.

“Don’t be mad but we need to pay Owen a visit.”

Twenty minutes later you quietly followed Russell into what looked like a decommission warehouse that should have been torn down a decade ago. The building was pitch black apart from the single light coming from the end of a hallway. You stuck behind Russell as you entered the room, stopping when you found six different men and a woman inside, most carrying a weapon on their hip or tucked into their jeans from what you could tell.

And smack in the center of the room tied to a chair was Owen very much still alive. Although…alive was being generous. He didn’t look more injured than when you’d last seen him but his color was off and his eyes were red and puffy. He wasn’t even angry when he saw you, just…scared.

“He behave while I was gone?” asked Russell to a man and woman nearby.

“Tried bribing Doug and then all of us to let him go,” said the woman. She gave Owen a nasty look before turning gentle as she looked towards Russell. “I think you scared the poor boy, Shaw.”

“Oh, who’s afraid of little old me?” said Russell, giving Owen a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So. Owen, my friends. Friends, Owen. You’re already acquainted with Y/N.”

Owen’s gaze flickered to you when Russell grabbed a chair from the wall and sat it a few feet away from Owen, facing him. Russell sat down slowly, nodding when you moved closer so you could see both their faces.

“Why’s he still alive?” you asked quietly. Owen’s eyes widened, Russell tsking him.

“On me, big guy,” said Russell, snapping his fingers, Owen reluctantly looking at him. “You got some options. Prison. You die very quickly. Or…me and my friends can make sure you die very slowly. Your choice.”

“Why didn’t you kill him yet?” you asked again. Russell sighed, glancing down. “Russell.”

“There were some things that never sat right with me that I wanted answers to. The stuff with your family’s accident and your dad’s paranoia, him attacking you. I had a paranoid father too. I know the signs, know that they want to protect us in their own way. The coincidence of meeting someone just like me was too high so I started to dig. You mentioned Owen’s drugged you a few times in the past and tried to hurt you.”

“Yeah…I’m not following,” you said. Russell stood slowly, staring down Owen like a predator with it’s prey firmly caught in a trap.

“I figured if he drugged you, who else had he slipped something to? What good man, good doctor, could a prescription drug running family slip into his drinks? The more I researched, the more my friends helped, the more we found.” Russell clenched his fists by his side, knuckles turning white. “Should I tell her Owen? Or do you have the balls to tell her yourself?”

Russell ripped off the tape over his mouth, Owen wincing as he breathed deeply. Russell was on him like that, grabbing his throat, not squeezing but adding enough pressure that it was going to be uncomfortable. “I told you to talk, you sack of shit.”

“Y/N, this guys is lying. I never did anything to you!” Russell’s jaw clenched and you watched him squeeze, only backing off when you laid a gentle hand on Russell’s shoulder. 

“He’s psycho!” said Owen, Russell backing up a step. You looked up to him, Russell’s face unreadable. “Y/N, baby-”

“Shut the fuck up before I stab you in your spine,” you said. Owen’s jaw snapped shut, a flicker of something in Russell’s eyes. Pride? Amusement? It quickly flittered away, replaced with worry when you held out a hand. “Can I have your knife?”

Russell slowly took it out of his pocket, handing the engraved handle out to you. You flicked it open and took a seat in the chair, holding it pointed down at the concrete floor.

“Owen. Tell me the truth and I won’t kill you. I swear. But I can get the answers from you if you don’t cooperate. Don’t make me get my boyfriend’s knife bloody.”

You heard a muttered damn from someone behind you, your focus on Owen. He sagged in his seat and closed his eyes.

“Our old fixer wanted out, wanted to go to the feds so my dad had him killed. I was eighteen and he told me to start earning my place as successor. He told me to find a new fixer. Your dad was one of the best doctors in the city. Things were…arranged. Two weeks later we-” 

Russell smacked the back of his head. Hard. Owen grunted, shaking it out.

“Two weeks later I…put a hit on your family. Your mom and brother specifically. We only needed one kid to survive and I thought a girl would be easier to control. I started drugging your father that night with antipsychotics to create paranoia,” said Owen, his head hanging low. “I orchestrated the whole thing. We fed him the drugs for years, it made him stay close if not a little extreme. It kept taking more though.”

“Do. Not. Skip. Ahead,” growled Russell, grabbing a fistful of Owen’s shirt.

“O-okay. I-I…I started thinking about how to get your dad to stick around once you grew up and you were pretty and smart and I thought you’d be happy with me.”

“How old was she when you decided this?” barked Russell. Owen whimpered, trying to curl in on himself. “Fifteen you disgusting waste of space.”

“You started drugging me then,” you said. Owen shook his head.

“Not with that stuff. Just roofies. But not enough for you to be completely out of it. Your dad started keeping a closer eye on you and I tried waiting for you to come around on your own but it was so hard when you went away to college. I knew I couldn’t let you run off like that again so…” Owen’s shoulders shook, mouth snapping shut.

“So you roofied her, attacked her and she fought back. Her father protected her and you fucking killed him for it. Your dear old daddy found what you’d done and wasn’t happy, was he? He covered up your murder and blamed her father knowing Y/N wouldn’t remember a thing. Y/N was forced to go to med school and learn crap she didn’t want to all while daddy had you banished away from her. You tried to keep tabs on her but it wasn’t until dad died that you could finally take Y/N like you wanted. It’s pure fucking luck I showed up when I did to make sure that didn’t happen. Would you like to tell Y/N about the fucking padded door locks and bars on the window in her old room back at the house? About your plans for her?”

Russell grabbed Owen’s hair, forcing his head up. Owen was trembling, whispering apologies and saying how he didn’t mean it, over and over.

“So…you killed my family…and tried to assault me more than once over the years…and were planning on keeping me as a…pet in the house until I magically fell in love with you. I think that sums it up,” you said. You stood up, handing Russell his knife. “I’m not going to kill him.”

“Thank you,” sighed Owen in relief. “Thank you. I-I knew you’d be able to forgive me-”

“Oh, I don’t forgive you and I wouldn’t be thanking me,” you said, smiling up at Russell. ““Papa Elpine and a few guys made it out I heard. Bobby was his favorite son, right?”

“Y/N! I killed Bobby! They’ll-” Russell shoved some tape over his mouth and hummed.

You crossed your arms, Russell tilting his head at you. “You know they’re going to torture Owen to death.”

“I said I wouldn’t hurt him and I’m keeping my word,” you said, Owen shouting under the tape. “I’d tell you to confess but Elpine’s connected. He’d just have you killed in prison. So. Elpine it is.”

“You sure?” asked Russell. You pursed your lips, Owen pleading with his eyes. Everything in you wanted to say yes, let him get what he had coming. 

So why couldn’t you say it? 

You looked to Russell, nodding. “Get rid of him, please,” you mouthed.

“Look away,” said Russell. You turned around, Owen panting hard before there was a loud crack and the room was still. Russell’s hand found your shoulder, rubbing it softly. “We took care of Elpine’s guys. You know that.”

“I just wanted him to be as scared as I’ve been. I-I just…why’d it have to be my family?” You found his face, Russell smiling sadly.

“I’ve asked myself that question a lot over the years. Best I came up with is you got to try and let it go. The world’s good and bad and that’s all there is to it.” He wrapped his arm over your shoulder, walking you towards the door. You nearly looked back but he blocked you with his body. “No. He’s gone for good, you don’t need to give him anything more. I’m sorry for not killing him back in Washington. I just thought you deserved the truth. Your dad was a good man.”

“Thank you,” you said, closing your eyes. “I wish I realized that sooner.”

“Come on,” he said, walking you out to the hallway. “Let’s get you home.”

One Month Later

You smiled from your chair when Russell let out a single tiny snore from the couch across from you. He hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days and honestly, it was kind of adorable the way this incredibly dangerous man made the cutest cooing noises while he slept.

“You’re staring at me,” he mumbled without opening his eyes a few minutes later. You looked around, holding up a finger. “I can feel you watching, like a creeper.”

“Well, you make these cute sounds when you sleep,” you said. He smirked, slowly flicking his lazy eyes open.

“And who’s fault is it that I haven’t been sleeping, hm?” You shrugged and slid down in your chair with your book, grinning behind the pages. “I can see that smile, you know that?”

“Don’t blame me for the amazing orgasms you give,” you said, flicking your eyes over the top of the book, Russell propping himself up on his elbows with a predatory gaze. “Down boy. Later.”

“You better,” he said, plopping back with a huff. “Remind me to never help Frank with a favor ever again.”

“Frank helped you with Owen,” you reminded him. Russell scoffed.

“All he did with Owen was stand there and look scary. I didn’t make him build a fucking deck in the pacific northwest in forty degree weather.”

“Aw, is baby boy cranky?” you teased. He growled, playfully tossing his pillow at you. “You guys should wrap up tomorrow, right?”

“That’s the plan. Then I’m going back to waking up at a humane hour,” he said, forcing himself to sit up and stretch out with a few grunts. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour and a half. You needed it,” you said, flipping a page. Russell glanced over to the dining table, taking in the decorated spread. 

“You set a place for Colter?” he asked. 

“Yes…right next to Dory’s,” you said, closing your book and setting it aside. “You still think he won’t come?”

“He’s not the kind of guy to come to a housewarming party. Especially his brother’s housewarming party. We still haven’t talked since…” 

“I know,” you said, standing and pulling him to his feet. He was still sleepy as you ruffled his hair, Russell turning into the touch. “I’m excited to meet your friends and family properly.”

“They want to know all about you, that’s for sure,” he chuckled. “You can’t imagine the amount of shit they’ve given me after I said I’d never settle down.”

“I moved in a week ago. We’re a ways from settling down,” you said. He titled his head, smiling at you. “Don’t give me that face.”

“What face?” he teased, leaning in close, dipping his head, kissing under your jaw.

“Shaw! Do not give me a hickey! I do not want them seeing-” You sucked in a breath, brain going fuzzy when he nipped at the soft flesh. 

“Too bad, qark. If I have to have hickeys all over my neck then so do you,” he said, suckling the skin. A buzzer went off in the kitchen and he groaned when you slipped away so the rolls wouldn’t burn. “Y/N…”

“Saved by the bell,” you said, taking out the pan and leaving them to cool off. Russell was by your side quickly, hands on your hips so you couldn’t escape. “Okay. How about you can give me as many hickeys as you want later if you’re a good boy this afternoon?”

“Hm, I do like being your good boy,” he said, squeezing your hips. “Deal.”

“Good. Where do you keep-“

The doorbell trilled, your heads turning towards the front windows. A familiar pickup truck was out front, Russell raising his eyebrows. You nodded for the door, Russell cautious as he answered. Colter stood on the front porch with an awkward forced smile and a pink box.

“I uh, picked up some dessert for dinner later,” he said offering the box. Russell took it, setting it aside on the front table. “You going to invite me in?”

“I thought you…” Russell shook his head and opened the door wider, letting his younger brother inside. Colter gave you a brief smile before clearing his throat.

“I uh, can help you get ready or cook. I just…last time we talked Russell…”

You smiled to yourself when Russell closed the gap between them, giving Colter a strong embrace. “Let's leave that shit behind us. Thanks for coming, Colt.”

“Yeah,” said Colter, returning it for a moment before the boys broke apart. “How’s the girlfriend situation working out for you?”

“I’m telling you man, find the right girl, you’ll never want to go back to being a loner,” said Russell, giving you a smirk. “They do come with a lot of rules though, fair warning.”

“I asked you to put the toilet seat down, Shaw,” you chided. 

“Like I said, rules,” teased Russell. You picked up a knife by your cutting board, narrowing your eyes. “We should help before she starts using that on us.”

“Yes you should,” you said, Colter shrugging out of his jacket and boots, joining your side after washing up. “Can you cut up the veggies into strips?”

“Can do,” he said, swapping places with you. You smiled when Russell took the dessert box and started to arrange the treats on a platter over on the dinning table. “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the last time we were all here.”

You frowned as you peeled a bag of potatoes into a bowl. “You mean when I lost my cool on Russell? You have nothing to apologize for Colter. We were asking you for a favor. Again. I’m honestly surprised you don’t hate me. I know you value your alone time.”

Colter was quiet, chopping neatly and pushing the scraps into a discard bowl. “Did Russell ever tell you how he got that gunshot he went to you for in the first place?”

“Someone kidnapped Doug. He went to save him.”

“Did you know I helped him with that?” You shook your head, setting the peeler down. Colter had stopped dicing, a barely there smile crossing his face. “If it weren’t for my brother asking for my help with his friends, I’m not sure we ever would have spoke again.”

“I know there’s a complicated history there.” He hummed, watching Russell across the room. “It means a lot to him that you’re trying too.”

“S’all we can do is try, right?” he said, going back to his cutting. “So. My brother is clearly head over heels. What about you? Should I expect a wedding invitation soon?”

“Uh, no,” you said, laughing to yourself. “We’re certainly not traditional but we’re nowhere near ready for that. We’ll see how living together goes for awhile before we talk about anything like long term plans.”

“Yet you moved in already.” You rolled your eyes. “Just an observation.”

“For convenience sake. Russ is looking into land for the brewery around here since he left his job and apartments in town are limited.”

“Right. I’m sure that’s it. Silly me,” he said. You held up your peeler to him, Colter raising his hands. “Russ, I think I broke one of your girlfriend’s rules.”

“It was nice knowing ya,” said Russell with a chuckle. “Give him a swift death for me, qark.”

“Qark?” asked Colter as you turned your attention to the potatoes. 

“Queen of darkness. Now hurry up with those so you and Russ can have some alone time before dinner.”

Six Hours Later

“This is going well,” said Russell to you in the kitchen as laughed and a smoky scent filtered in from the back porch. “Everyone really likes you.”

“I suppose I have met them all before, except for Dory. She’s such a sweetheart. I don’t know what I was expecting but-”

“She was much younger than us when our dad died. After she went to live with our aunt and uncle. She’s tough but normal in a way Colter and I won’t ever…” You rubbed his back, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close. “Did you like, drug him? Or bribe him? I seriously can’t believe he’s still here let alone came.”

“Of course he came. No matter what’s happened in the past, he loves his big brother.” Russell tucked you into his side, smiling when you rested your head on his shoulder. “I found a job in Wyoming. Missing prized show dog. I was going to head out in the morning, see if I’m any good at this.”

“You’ll be wonderful,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “Be safe though.”

“I will be.” You turned in his hold to face him, wrapping your arms around his back in a hug. “It’s been a long time since anyone cared if I was safe. It’s nice. This weird little family you have is…I’m jealous to be honest.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s yours too.” You raised your eyebrows, Russell raising his own, eyes going wide. “No! No, I don’t mean like, officially yours. Like metaphorically. I’m not ready for anything official. Someday but so not right now.”

“Me either,” you said, the tension running out of his face. “I want to know who we are without our old jobs, how to be a happy queen of darkness.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” he said. “Speaking of which, I got you a present for helping organize all of this and cooking for ten people after literally just moving cross country. I know it was stressful so I wanted to make it up to you.”

“I don’t need a present, Russ,” you said, a sneaky smile forming on his face. “Oh. This is a present for the both of us.”

“I got you a new pair of jammies, the lilac set this time,” he said. Russell’s smile grew as yours did, his arms lifting you off the ground, bringing you to eye level. “You deserve all the good things in life, qark.”

“I think we got something pretty good starting right here,” you said, kissing him once, Russell humming.

“I couldn’t agree more, baby. Couldn’t agree more.”

__________

[dabisbratz]

SOFTSPOT — aizawa shouta x male reader

w.c: 3.3k

a/n: alternatively titled: sonny projects onto a reader insert for 3k+ words straight i’ll never get used to writing dirty talk. got carried away.. whoops..

genitalia terms: cock, dick, hole, boypussy, cunt

WARNING: amab reader, praise, degradation, spitting, dirty talk, crybaby!reader, himbo!reader, fingering, anal, nipple play, chest mentions, use of the words ‘tits’ in a mocking manner, dumbification, mutual masterbation, sadism, humiliation, creampie

“Shooo!” You whine, purely instinctual as you shove impulsively purchased gym-mats, equipment, and protein powder into the trunk of your car. Your pro-hero boyfriend isn’t even there, probably off on patrol somewhere, but you can’t help but call for him when you need help…. Even if it’s with a simple task. He’d offered you some exclusive time to workout at U.A’s gym, even after hours, but you preferred the public ones. More motivation that way, you’d put it. Your bottom lip quivers, plump and pouty as you open a jar of discolored powder. You inhale strongly, handsome face distorting in disgust. Ah, well, at least someone else got some good money off it.

Sweat clings to your forehead, sticky on your skin and clinging embarrassingly to your chest, your sleeveless hoodie soaked. It’s a bit uncomfortable, nothing you can’t manage, just a little colder in the winter air.

The trunk of your car slams, loud as you childishly stomp over to the driver’s seat, despite already forgetting what you were so upset about. You don’t pull out of the gym parking lot just yet, instead opening your phone to see if your boyfriend had found the time to respond to your post-gym selfies. The messages remain on read, and you know Shouta would never ignore you, but your eyes can’t help but water from the neglect. You miss him.

So, like any sensible boyfriend, you call him.

Shouta is a capable man; capable of many things. He can swing through the streets of Japan in the blink of an eye— in his sleep, even. He can knock out a villain in record time, with nothing but his fists and maybe an afternoon nap. He can pick you up right where you stand, lift your legs over your head and fuck you like you weigh nothing. But a simple text back is too much?

It rings once, twice…..a few more times, before you finally hear the gruff voice you’ve been yearning for. Instantly, your mood changes, glassy eyes dry within seconds and a large, genuine smile spilling down your face as you glance at yourself in the rearview mirror. “Hello?”

“Sho-Chan!” You beam, loud enough for anyone within a ten mile radius to hear your excitement. Wiggling in your seat, you squeeze your cellphone between your shoulder and ear, starting the car and setting off to go home. Aizawa makes a sound at that, low in his throat and it rumbles in your ear. Damn, if only you kept your earbuds in! “I missed you… a lot!”

“An old man like me?” You frown in response, Shouta isn’t even old. You shake your head profusely, even if he can’t see you, completely missing the rustling sounds in the background of the call. “…Surely you’ve found someone your old age good enough for you at that gym you like so much.”

“Wha— Don’t even joke like that!” You huff, body lurching forward at the red light you almost forgot to stop at. So mean, always pushing your buttons. Your seatbelt is snug against your chest, dipping between the pillowy skin of your pecs. He’d never admit it aloud, but it was most definitely Shouta’s favorite body part of yours, squishy and soft and thick. He’s always touching you there, his large, pale hands digging into the skin until it hurts. He chuckles, hearty but breathless, like he’s preoccupied. You bite your lip, worried. “Uh, Sho?”

As capable as he is, Shouta is also a very weak man. He’s weak for puppy eyes, big and blown out and teary. He’s weak for warm hands, with nails that scratch his back and massage it the following morning after. He’s weak for pictures of you, all smiles and teeth. He’s weak for crying, the sound of hiccups and sobs leaving his pretty boys’ mouth while he tries to fit a cock in his needy holes.

He can see it now, your eyes widening with worry and concern, tears threatening to fall down your face, your eyebrows knitted as you stare at the road ahead of you. With a dragged out sigh, Aizawa groans, mocking as he says: “Sho-Chan’s gonna need your help, baby.”

“Oh!” You’re good at that— very good, even. You’re always eager to help, especially if you’re helping Shouta. It’s the least he deserves, after all. You straighten up in your seat, though you’re already nearing the reserved parking space in front of his house. Seriously, you add, “Anything, I promise. M’almost home.”

There’s a groan on the other side, a spark traveling down your spine and straight to your cock in response. You know that groan, reserved for handjobs and particularly sloppy blowjobs— like when Shouta holds your head in his hands and uses your throat, burying his cock down to the hilt, until all you can taste is him, your nose buried in his dark happy trail and and curly pubes. He’s always been a bit too big for your mouth, instead opting to slap his cock on your tongue or across your cheek when your jaw started aching too much.

“Mhm, bet you are… Waitin’ for Sho to tell you what to do, sweetheart?” You hum in affirmation almost immediately, unbuckling your seatbelt and hopping out the car with a much hastier pace. The cold, outside air makes the hair on your neck stand, your nipples hardening. “Such a good boy. Why don’t you play with your nipples while you tell him how your day was.”

You pause where you stand, eyes widening as your cock twitches in your sweatpants, straining against the fabric. In public, no less, making a distinct print in your pants as you try to cover your erection with one hand. You let out an incredulous laugh, frantically surveying the area as Shouta huffs in your ear. His request isn’t exactly that, more like a command— because you just can’t tell him no.

“I- I worked out a lot,” Switching hands between covering your dickprint and holding your phone, you swallow hard and nod to yourself. Your hand trails up your side, then to your chest, where you gently massage the plush skin of your pecs. Your middle finger gently— slightly, swirls around the sensitive bud of your nipple, a small whimper forming in the back of your throat. “Bought some, um… Um.. Protein powder.”

But you can’t just sit there, not when Shouta is almost right in front of you, his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you, his cock down his throat— he’s right there, just a few steps and a single lock away. And, God, how you hope he takes care of you when you get there. There’s a guttural noise in your ear before it’s briefly cut off. your phone vibrating in your hand as Shouta hangs up, the front door swinging open before you can even knock.

“These tits,” Is the first thing Sho’ says, slamming the door behind you until you’re trapped between it and his tall body. You want to protest, to whine and stomp your feet because they’re certainly not tits, but your need to please is much stronger. Instead, you whine, your head falling forward as you melt in his hands. His hands roam your chest, calloused palms pushing them together obscenely. You squirm, pouting. “Could play with them all day. Would you like that, hm?”

He knows you would.

“Hear how wet my dick is? Fuck, you don’t even know what you do to me,” He’s overwhelming your senses, his stubble brushing against your chest as he takes a perky bud into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. Shouta’s no stranger to using his mouth— in fact, you might just share an oral fixation in common. Your eyes flutter closed, your knees buckling as he licks a flat, long stripe over your sensitive nipple. “Going stupid on me already?”

You shake your head, your cheeks puffed out as he looks up at you through his dark lashes, his equally dark bangs obstructing his vision. You’re so cute, huffing and puffing quietly as a wet patch grows on your pants, right where your tip leaks through your boxers. Your natural smell is stronger, and your chest is still glowing with sweat from your workout.

“Sho, listen I–”

Shouta’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw setting as his other hand rolls your unoccupied nipple between his fingers. Your mouth snaps shut. Staring back at him is too much for you, his eyes darkening the more you make contact. You feel like prey, and Aizawa is the unrelenting predator.

You blink away, a startled gasp leaving your lips when his strong hand grips your jaw and sets your gaze back on him. His smile is devious, his canines sharp and glinting under the ceiling lights. You can’t hold onto anything around you, not the doorknob or the doorframe, so you settle for Shouta’s sleeve, ballling your hand into a fist as he flicks your nipples to watch your tits jiggle in response. So embarrassing!

“Look at that, sweet boy, letting me use you how I want, letting me take what I want. Good boy.”

Your body feels warm as you keen— scorching hot, even— while Shouta chuckles at the sight, purring low in his chest. You love making Shouta happy- you live for it, love blooming in your chest as you nod along. You’re a good boy! Shouta’s good boy! He said it himself! You could feel the rumble of his voice in your sternum, where he was hunched over before lowering himself to remove your shoes, your pants, your hoodie.

Your boxers are ruined, almost like you had cum in your pants before he even thought of touching your cock. He swats your shy hands away from your crotch, cooing as flustered tears well in your eyes. Even with the fat crystals threatening to spill he can see your cock jump, especially when it lands right atop your belly button, a trail of sticky precum correcting you to your underwear. Such a crybaby.

“Spit on it.”

“I— Spit?” You blink once, twice, three more times as you try to process the demand. Your cock throbs, unbearably needy, as you look down at it. When you glance back up Shouta looks expectant, but patient as he watches you connect the dots. He does it first, untucking himself from his pants to spit down on his palm, then rubbing said spit into his big, veiny cock.

Ah.

It’s more pathetic than anything, your lips parting as you spit down on your cock. It’s more akin to drool, a long trail of spit slowly trailing down your lips and chin until it pools at your head. Wet and slick, your fingers twitch as you wrap your hand around your dick, toying with the slit just like Sho’ does. It feels better with his hands though, and you sigh impatiently. No one does it like he does,

“Need…need your hand.”

You need a lot of Shouta’s things these days. You need his fingers, deep inside your hole while he toys with your chest. You need his hand, warm and right and too good when he fists your cock. You need his dick, thick and barely able to pass the rim of your hole. It hits every spot just right, so big and so deep, sometimes accompanied by Shouta’s thumb if you’re feeling extra greedy. You need him to make decisions for you, when you’re too cockdrunk to remember your words. When you’re too stupid to decide anything for yourself.

You’re sure you’re crying by now— it feels like it, you can feel wet streaks on your face as Shouta takes his cock in his hand and rubs it against his own, heads squelching together and precum mixing together as you keen into his touch. His other hand, less dominant, reaches your neck, holding you steady against the door as you rut into his hand like a puppy. You hear yourself choke on a moan, a strangled and pathetic sound that has Aizawa’s dick twitching against yours. Loud and wet, your head falls back against the door with a quiet thump, much to your hero’s amusement.

There’s too much warmth; his hands, his fingers, his cock. You’re nodding along to nothing, eyes darting everywhere and nowhere all at once. Your body pulses, long strokes to your cock making you whine pitifully. Aizawa’s pupils are blown wide, his pink tongue darting over his equally pink lips as he watches you crumble in his hands, leaning into the hand around your throat. It snakes down your chest, lower against your belly button, and around your waist.

At this rate you’re going to explode.

His big, long fingers reach your ass, kneading the plush skin between fingers. You can feel him pulling your cheeks apart, his hands greedy and strong and harsh, when he lets go to place a hard smack to the exposed skin. Shouta laughs when you whine in return, squirming when he grabs your hip so hard it hurts.

You try so hard, proud of yourself as you try to warn Shouta of what’s coming next, of the cum about to shoot straight across your stomach, it takes every ounce of self control you have to scrape together the words you want to say— you have to say. His tight, wet grip has your toes curling, your balled fists reaching up for the dark bundles of hair draped along Aizawa’s shoulders. His middle finger, inching closer and closer to your rim.

“Oh, fuckfuckfuck, m’gonna cum, waitwait, Shooo.”

“Mmm, hold on, sugar. Gonna get one out of you with my fingers in this cunt,” There’s something cold and sleek pressed against your taint, gradually warming up the more it circles your rim. There’s nowhere for you to go— forward is into Shouta’s arms, your cocks bumping together lewdly, backward are his fingers; long, thick, calloused and deep. You let out another hiccup, going with the latter of the two as his finger disappears inside you. Grunting along. Shouta’s fingers reach impossibly deep inside you first try, your hole swallowing him up with little resistance. “Did you fuck yourself before you got home? Shoved those needy fingers in your hole because you missed Sho-chan’s big dick pulsing inside your hole? T’aww.”

“Uh-huh, mhm, yeah,” Another mindless, breathless nod while in the back of your head you find yourself pouting. It’s not a cunt and you certainly don’t find that phrase hot at all! You move to nuzzle your forehead against his stubble, moaning out tiny sounds with each brush to your prostate. Shouta lets you drool on his shoulder, eyes squeezed right as you buck your hips into his. You’re sobbing into his ear, thighs trembling against the door as he spreads your cheeks apart, and cool air meets your hole. “Hmmph..”

“Turn around for me, show me where Daddy fucks you. Where his dick goes.” That’s a new one. But he’s right, it’s a perfect fit— even if it needs some prep. He fills you up just right, keeps you stuffed on his cock till all you can do is whine and cry, bounces you up and down until you’re both satisfied. You’re in love.

So you turn, dizzy and wobbly on your legs and unabashedly eager to be good for your lover. He keeps you upright if anything, basically manhandling you until you’re where he wants you, back arched against the door and your cheek squished below the peep-hole. Your hands travel down your chest, down to your hips where they swerve back, palms resting on the swell of your ass. A hungry, animalistic grin graces Shouta’s lips as he watches you spread your cheeks apart once more, the puffy hole winking back at him. You try to smile at him, messy-faced and dopey.

Cute.

There’s more spit now than you remember, warm and sloppy as Shouta rubs it into your hole. Your cock strains painfully, desperate for release, but somehow your overwhelming need to feel full is stronger. And full you’ll be, as Aizawa’s balls tighten, his cock sliding across the crack of your ass, then around your hole. There’s an obscene smack of the head against your rim, then the sound of Shouta sucking in a deep breath through his teeth.

“Shh. Let me in, let me in, baby.” His dick enters slowly, making you sniffle in response. You try your hardest to relax, to sit still and let Sho’ take you how he wants, but you can’t help it. He presses into your hole like he owns it, deep and heavy as his thighs meet the bottom of your backside.

“Take it like you were made for me.”

His balls slap against your own slow, at first, then quickly and sporadically increasing in speed at the expense of your throat. It’s almost like he’s fucking you there too, deep enough that you can taste his precum at the very back of your tongue. His strong arms wrap around your body, hands squeezing your large chest while you bat your wet eyelashes.

“Fuuck, you take it so well. Love watching that greedy fuckin’ hole suck me in. So fuckin’ wet n’ sloppy, ugh, such a good pocketpussy.”

Your rut against the door, pounding against it with each forward thrust, your cock threatening to spurt any second. Shouta’s grumbling something in your ear, something you can’t make out through the foggy haze, but you feel yourself tighten up in response anyway. You babble through your tears, wailing loud and incoherent and something along the lines of ‘I’m Sho’s good boy,’ but who’s keeping track.

“Too— hmm.. I can't.” Shouta’s hand caresses your cheek, curling into a lazily formed fist as he gently knocks a knuckle (though it’s more like the fat of his hand) against your forehead. He makes a sly comment about how hollow and empty your head sounds, a dark and rich laugh erupting from his mouth.

“S’it too much, honey? My dick’s just too much for that tiny little hole,” Your cock jumps against your tummy, twitching until it can’t anymore, cum shooting straight out your tip until you’re drooling on the door, eyes rolled behind your head as Shouta continues using you— you’d only gotten tighter, after all. “That’s too bad. Come on— you can take it, let me stuff it full. Bet you’re so proud of yourself too. Proud of that slutty fuckin’ boypussy.”

Your toes curl, thigh muscles clenching tight as Aizawa keeps you upright, lifting your boneless body up and down, his cock disappearing inside you. Even as he pulls out, your body pulls him right back in. But he’s clearly reaching his limit, his dick pulsating inside you with vigor as he spurts a thick, sticky load inside you around your rim.

He pulls out completely with a hiss, watching his cum slowly trickle out, thick globs collecting at the back of your thighs. He’s the only thing holding you up, your strong legs suddenly jello in his grasp. You make no effort to move, letting him manhandle you onto the couch. His hands are warm in contrast to the wet cloth you don’t remember him grabbing, but it feels good and cool against your skin.

“Sho-Chan..” You whine, not nearly as high in your throat as your moans. “Kiss me.”

[autofit01]

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[doubledaybooks]

Excerpt from YOUR DRIVER IS WAITING by Priya Guns

1.

If you’re going to be a driver, you’d better hide at least one weapon in your car. Especially if you’re a driver that looks like me. Not because I’m dashing or handsome, but because I am a woman, of course. I think it has something to do with tits even though not all of us have them. I sort of do, but that’s beside the point.

I’d been driving for RideShare using Appa’s old car, whose make I will not disclose. I had a switchblade in the glove compartment (which I normally kept in my back pocket), a tire iron under my seat, pepper spray by my door, and a pair of scissors under the mat by the pedals, taped down to avoid any sliding. In the trunk there were six bottles of water, a bucket, a bottle of bleach, some rope, a baseball bat, a few rolls of paper towels, a can of antiperspirant and another of spray paint, some condoms, tampons, pads, and diapers. As humans we have an assortment of bodily fluids and by then I’d tasted about eight of them. In the bucket—­and I didn’t like keeping much in it—­there was a roll of duct tape because duct tape will do just about anything you want it to. I also had some dishcloths, a towel, a crowbar, cleaning products, a toothbrush, baking soda, vinegar, and a squeegee buried under some rags in a corner of the trunk, because things got messy. Oh, and there was a pair of black rubber gloves too. These were difficult to find, but I wanted black.All the drivers I’ve ever met say it’s crucial to drive prepared. Go ahead and ask one. If they tell you there’s not even one weapon hidden in their car, they’re lying. As a driver, you have to protect yourself. Out there in the city, we’re on our own.

Excerpted from Your Driver Is Waiting by Priya Guns. Copyright © 2023 by Priya Guns. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

[marilynthornhilllover]

Hi! Can I have a request on "mommy!marilyn x Reader"? like when Marilyn teaches reader how to drive but R messed up and Marilyn get angry and decided to spank r at the back at the car trunk and f***k r until r know what she did was wrong? (NFSW, spanking, and strap-on)

Kinktober fanfic #1

Was it casual then?

Mommy Marilyn T. X Fem!Reader

Warning: NSFW smut, praise kink, degradation kink, mommy kink, spanking, use of strap, fingering, jealousy,cliffhanger, moms friend, etc.

The bell rang announcing the end of another boring school day. As students rushed out of their class rooms and into the hallway to exit the building you could feel the relief of not having to worry about anymore crazy assignments and the urge towards wanting to punch people’s children because they weren’t pulling their weight in group projects creeping in. You walked quickly towards your locker to empty your book bag, you had plans for tonight and you didn’t want anything holding you back.

“ hey girl, you’re coming to the new club downtown tonight right?” You may have turned around too quickly because you swore you just gave yourself a huge whiplash, but no way on gods green earth was the ‘Rebecca o’olva’ talking to you right now. She was like the Beyoncé of the school and in her world you had to look a certain way in order for her to even acknowledge your entire existence. But anyways there she stood looking gorgeous as always, short dark blue denim shirt with a cute star hemming style, a fuzzy cropped zipper sweater and of course her minions standing behind her like she was their military patrol officer.

Becca was cool. you weren’t allowed to call her that aloud, her group would probably punch the shit out of you if you tried to get too friendly. She wasn’t mean though, just a ‘shy trying to maintain good grades because I come from a uptight family full of assholes that are rich self maker’s who would burn the world to crisps if I didn’t become a millionaire too kinda girl’.Though sometimes she didn’t mind lavishing herself in the wealth and acting like a spoiled brat.

“ oh— uh—I hi?” You said awkwardly, her crystal blue eyes tore you apart as she stood there grinning at you. Her friends giggled but immediately stopped when she turned to flash them look with a not so kind face. Rebecca took a small step closer to you and smirked.

“ you must be y/n. You know me already but anyways there’s a new club that’s opening tonight and everyone’s going” yeah no shit cause your inviting them, but by all needs carry on. “ and I wanted to know if you’re interested in tagging along because I’m one of the host” she finally said with a victory smile as if she won the lottery, well she kinda already did. Well… her family did.

You stood there as stiff as stage four rigga morris. You blinked a few times maybe trying to analyze maybe if you had zoned out or maybe was daydreaming and needed to come back to reality but she was still there with that goddamn hideous creepy Halloween coded smile on her face. And her friends sharp eyes weren’t helping your nerves to cool down . And then you decided to do something even more stupid and life threatening.

“ sorry but I don’t drink alcohol and I already had plans for the weekend with my friends so with all due respect Beyoncé I think I’ll p—“ before you could finish your sentence her four friends corner you and push you back hard against the cold metal of your locker. You winced and tried to seem as tough as possible by standing back up but a Barbie looking one with wet lashes and overlapping Matted lipstick pulled you closer to her by your collar.

“ listen here doormat, she’s kind but we’re not so you better take up the offer” she whispered eerily.

“ and we better see you there” another muttered. You involuntarily nodded and in a sharp instant she released you. Rebecca was still fucking smiling at you but then they all took off laughing. These crazy fucking bitches. You proceeded to quickly empty your bag, deciding to just leave the entire bag in the damn locker since you didn’t have any homework to worry about and school doesn’t reopen til Tuesday so you had time to come back for something just in case . Walking briskly out of the empty halls you waved goodbye to the elderly janitor Mrs. Hanson on your way out.

You sighed as you felt the cool air pressed across your skin and the warm afternoon sun as it escalated down your face and body areas. All the busses were long gone, with the last one pulling out of the drive and taking off into the distance. You sighed again but this time one of stress and agony. You looked around the parking lot and suddenly your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide. Standing not far out was your mom’s best friend. Not the weird old ugly ones that asked you weird questions, hot and steamy mommy coded Marilyn thornhill.

Marilyn always thought you were a rude rebellious teenager when you were younger but it was just you trying to hide your feelings from her. And soon eventually she caught on. There were times in the past when she would tease you, get under your skin. Push you past your comfort zone in more ways imaginable. And you loved it, you neeeded it, you craved it like a drug. You two had a little fling, she was your first and then she just left town and you never say her in the light of day again. So seeing her here now was like seeing a past lover, like the crazy teary scenes in the movies.

Except your heart was going 100mph and your private region suddenly grew a heart beat making you swallow thickly. And you could feel the saliva go all the way down there and soon enough you were becoming insatiably wet.

“ come here baby” you heard her say, leaning against the hood of her car with her legs crossed she took an inhale of her cigarette before it got lost under her boot on the ground. You felt a familiar shiver that only she made you feel. You knew how these interactions ended but your feet betrayed you and you started taking slow strides towards her. And the closer you got the more the temptation of what could happen, what has happened seemed soul demanding.

When walked closer to her you made sure to maintain a perfect gap space in case you needed to run away from her. Far away from her destruction that you so desperately craved. But sensing your hesitation Marilyn smirked and chuckled softly under her breath and in one swift motion captured her lips with yours by using your tie to pull you closer towards her. Your lips fought against each other in a slow passionate fight at first, just feeling each other closer then Marilyn became hungry. She bit down on your lips which caused you to moan as she used the opportunity to push her tongue pass your lips gate.

She wrapped the tie around her hand more tightly pulling you onto her even more. Being so flush against her again did things to you. You felt hot and desperate. Her body heat, her perfume a mix of lavender and something dark and citrus like. Something dangerous, like her. Your nipples slowly awakened themselves to the new found intimacy and a desire that raged war in you. Marilyn’s tongue fought against yours in a war of dominance and obviously she won leading you to just submitting to her, as your chest flattened and your body went limp against hers.

Marilyn smiled against your lips before she pulled away, wiping away any salvia trails that may have connected both your lips like a bridge. She looked down at you and you squirmed under her gaze. She chuckled and gave you a quick peck on your forehead.

“ well hello to you too, my love” she whispered against your lips before they connected with yours again and you had to push her off you before her thoughts got the better of her and she couldn’t control herself.

“ stop it Mari, there’s still staff members here.” You told her and she straightened up, fixing her posture. She looked at you with those ‘ I don’t give two fucks eyes I literally fucked you in your mom’s bedroom when she was cooking’ eyes but she stopped because she respected your boundaries and your body.

“ nice car” you finally said after fixing your clothes and putting a few inches between the both of you so pass byers wouldn’t have rumors to spread.

“ thanks it’s s yours” she said looking at the car then back at you, you laughed for a moment shaking your head at her joke before you realized that she wasn’t joking. Your eyes widen and you felt your feet betray you once more because all of a sudden you start jumping like a like kid who just got told that they were officially going to see Santa. You wrapped your arms around her neck and began kissing her all over her face, the older woman chuckled at your childish behavior and wrapped her arms around your waist pulling your closer.

“ but I can’t even drive yet” she must have saw the disappointment in your eyes because she squeezed your sides tighter forcing you to look at her.

“ I’ll teach you darling, maybe we can even test it out to see if it’s fuckable in” she said whispering the last part, you rolled your eyes and swatted her chest.

“ your hopeless you know that” she chuckled and lead you to the car, not just any car by the way a BMW M8 competition. You loved having a hot milf mommy that’s smoking rich.

——————————-

“ fucking damn it y/n what’s so hard in just putting your goddamn foot on the pedal” Marilyn was starting to piss you off, she had taken you out on some abandoned racing track in the middle of nowhere to practice you on driving and yelled at you every fucking time you messed up. You rolled your eyes and sighed. You looked over at her who was staring daggers at you as her breathing elaborated more and more each time she inhaled. It was like she was the big bad wolf in the three little pigs story.

“ are you fucking stupid or deaf? Put your fucking foot on the pedal!” She shouted more sternly this time, her tone taking no softness. She was angry but so the fuck were you.

“ you know what Marilyn fuck you , how about you take your car and shove it up your ass if you’d like” you opened the door and got out slamming the door after. You heard her grunt as she got out too but you didn’t pay much attention to her as you made your way around the car. You didn’t even know where you were going, there’s no where to go. You were in the middle of no where and she was your only was back to civilization. Before you could process it all you felt a firm grip in your hair as your body got slammed onto the cold surface of the car trunk.

You groaned in slight pain as you turned your head to the side to stare at the culprit. Marilyn’s grip remained in your hair and her other non occupied hand bunched up your platted skirt around your hips and in one swift motion pulled down your panties til they fell around your ankles. You couldn’t lie, something about being in the middle of nowhere all alone with Marilyn made your insides churn and your pussy pulse. Flash backs of you riding her cock at your friends party in her bedroom closet to sucking her off at a birthday party, to her pounding into your pussy out in a dressing room and yes of course the first time she made you cum on your moms bed when she was cooking.

All the memories came back. And this would fit perfectly to the list. You were already completely soaking, probably dripping just for her.

“ you fucking whore, all mommy wanted to do was surprise her baby and teach her how to drive but now mommy got put someone in their place” she whispered against the skin of your neck, her hot breath making you tremble under her hold. She yanked your hair making you prop yourself up onto your elbow. Her hand rested onto your lower back carefully arching your back for you and you complied. Marilyn stared at your ass cheeks for a moment, your round curvy ass bent back, all for her. She couldn’t help but bring her hand to the flesh fumbling with it before a hard swat came down causing you to cry out at the unexpectedness.

She felt you shiver against her and did it again. You whimpered and tried to lay down to give yourself some comfort but she held you up. Tears pricked at your eyes and the wind blowing in your face made it worst.

“ god i missed you baby” she muttered under her breath mostly to herself but you heard and it only turned you on more. She spanked your ass again and the pain slowly started mixing with the pleasure allowing a moan to coarse through your throat and out of your mouth. Marilyn smirked to herself and did it again this time for harshly, making the sore and redden flesh jiggle. You let out a more choked moan this time and she chuckled darkly.

“ yeah moan just like that for mommy” she let lose of your hair and grabbed the underneath of your neck forcing your head backwards to look at her. “ I wanna hear you fucking scream while I milk that pussy like the olden days” she used her forearm to push you against the hood of the car.

“ suck” she spat roughly as she shoved two fingers into your mouth, you gave her digits a few sucks seductively taking your time to draw out slow swirls across her knuckles before she pulled them from your mouth. She thrusted three digits into you in one swift motion causing your eyes to roll back completely. A grutal moan escaped from your mouth and it was a good thing that you both were in a secluded place or maybe the both of you would have been on the news…..

Marilyn’s pace was detrimental. She kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear as her fingers rutted deep inside of you with no mercy. Your nails scratched the hood of the car as a familiar pressure from deep within your stomach started to come back.

“ there she is, i can feel you clenching baby girl, go ahead and let go for mommy” she whispered against your ear, she placed a soft lingering kiss behind your earlobe, your back arched when you felt her cross curl her fingers deep within you as she increased her pace. It was only a matter of time before you came on her fingers with a loud cry. Marilyn smirked to herself and slid her fingers out of you. She gently licked the juices off her fingers while she watched you squirm before the wave of your orgasm. Your breathing was shallow and rigid as you tried to keep it under control and brace yourself for whatever was to come next.

You could hear Marilyn unbuttoning her pants, looking over your shoulder you see her slide her pants down to her ankles before her gaze met yours. What really caught your eye’s attention what the huge purple strap that was attached to her waist ready to absolutely destroy you to pieces. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at the strap and then back up at her, she had the most devilish grin imaginable and you knew her intentions. Marilyn wasted no time as she spread your legs apart, placing one of them up on the car’s bumper giving herself a better access to your cunt. You heard her spit on the strap before quickly dragging her hand up and down her length.

She wasted no time and inserted her cock into you. Your head fell against the car and your back arched. Marilyn held the flesh under your thigh as her hips bottomed out inside you. You felt so full of her. Her cock was pressing against the spongy spot inside you and it felt so fucking good. You missed her and her dick so bad you wished she had a real one. Marilyn withdrew her hips slowly as she watched in awe as your juices coated her length. She grabbed a fist full of your hair pulling you back against her chest as she slowly began thrusting.

“ oh god please—“ your sentence was cut of by a soft moan that was quickly followed by a whimper as Marilyn increased her pace.

“ you stubborn girl, can’t follow simple driving instructions but you sure can take dick” she spat with a small chuckle causing you to whine. Her praises and dirty talk will soon have you spurting to the edge and you didn’t wanna be seen as a slut. But you wouldn’t just be anyone’s slut. You’ll be her slut. And right now, with her cock buried deep within you and her tight grip in your hair you didn’t mind at all. Marilyn released her hold on your hair and used her hands to toy with your nipples. You cursed out a shallow moan and cried. Marilyn laughed mockingly and twisted your nipples between her fingers.

She looked down at where your cunt and her cock was connected and bit her hips before she too released a soft moan of her own.

“ fucking pussy so good” she whispered under her breath. She watched as your pussy pulsed and creamed on her length, sucking in a breath she grabbed your hair again.

“ you gonna fucking cum again? Mhmh? Fucking whore mommy treats this pussy too nice huh?” She tutted as her hips found a new speed now pounding your guts fast and deep, she curved her hips in an angle that made her tip bend against that sweet point deep within you. Watching as your eyes roll back and your legs tremble she spanks your ass cheek and runs her hand down your spine before slipping it around infront to play with your small bud.

“ fuck I—OH GOD MARILYN PLEASE—“ you croaked out, panting you reached your hand around and gently placed it on her abdomen in attempt to slow her hips but she was unstoppable. Your body fell limp against the car as you laid there and took her dick with grace.

“ fuck yes, take it baby, fucking take my cock, your gonna look at me and cum on my dick, fucking look at me” she said firmly going even deeper as her hips rocked faster within you. The sound of her cock moving in and out of you and your moans, the way she was speaking to you and her hands roaming your body and playing with you clit at some point it all became too much and you obeyed her. Turning your head to the side your gaze met hers in a pleading attempt to which it fell on deaf ears. Her pace was brutal and her thrusts were snapping sharp.

“Mary—I can’t—fuck I” she knew what you wanted to say, and she felt it. She leaned down and connected her lips with yours as you neared your edge. In one swift motion she deepened the arch in your back which allowed her strap to be driven even deeper into your cunt and that was it. Your body spammed as your cunt clenched down hard on her cock. You felt your juices release on her cock as you shuttered. You were completely out of breath and tired. But god did you wanna go again. You forgot just how good Marilyn has made you fell, can make you feel. And man did you love it. You turned around and sat up properly on the cars trunk and looked at her.

Her eyebrows quirked and she smirked at you. She kissed you softly but soon it transformed into something rough and passionate. She gently pushed you down back against the trunk and opened your legs to where disaster just occurred, to the mess she just caused you to make.

“ I wanna taste you now…..”

[impala-dreamer]

Save Me - Part One

A Short Story

~ Sometimes, when life seems the brightest, shadows creep in. After announcing their engagement to the world, Jensen's fiancé is kidnapped. With the help of a friend, she tries to fight her way back home to him.~

Jensen Ackles x F!Reader, Dean Winchester

7,160 Words Total. Part one: 3,209

Warnings: My kind of Super Angst. Blood. Injury. Kidnapping. It's really sad...

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "No one's coming to save you. Get up!"

PART ONE ~ PART TWO

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Her thoughts were hazy; her head throbbing from the repeated blows. The blood that had trickled down her neck had dried and she could feel how matted her hair was around the wounds.

Her muscles ached, her skin was bruised and broken in more than one spot. The cramped trunk she’d been forced into and the bumpy ride had nearly crippled her. She’d tried to count the turns they took, the miles they raced across, but disorientation and fear had been too much to overcome.

Wrists and knees bound in scratchy, rough rope and eyes blinded by a scarf, Y/N was led from the car and dragged up a few stairs. She could hear a lock turn and the hinges of a door creak. Boots on a wooden floor; the heavy breathing of her captor.

The house was warm. Heat was pulsing up from hissing radiators and the smell hung heavy in the air, mixing with the stench of stale cigarettes and rotting trash. Still, she was grateful for the warmth. January in Indianapolis was freezing and the trunk hadn’t exactly been insulated.

“Where are you taking me?” she whimpered, cringing as the fingers around her upper arms dug into her flesh.

There was no answer.

“Please! Don’t do this. We can work something out.”

When she refused to take another step, she was yanked forward and thrown into another room. Her sneakers squeaked and she recognized the sound of cheap linoleum flooring under her rubber soles.

A kitchen. Knives. A backdoor, maybe.

She twisted against the tight hold. “Please, just let me go. I swear to god I won’t go to the cops. No charges pressed. Please. We can get out of this mess.”

The giant hand gripped her harder and Y/N groaned at the pain.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

A gruff voice shouted by her ear. “Shut up!”

She bit her tongue but refused to give up. “Let me go!”

With all of her strength, she pivoted to the right, shoving her elbow hard into the solid body behind her. She heard a pained grunt and the hand holding her released. She spun around the other way and tried to run, but it was no use. Still tied, her knees buckled and she began to fall.

The hands were back, yanking her harshly back onto her feet. She screamed and fist collided with her jaw. Sparks erupted in the blackness of her vision, pain spread across her face.

“Told you to shut up!”

Y/N held her breath and squeezed her lips shut.

Tugged forward again, she stumbled deeper into the kitchen and heard a door open. Cold air hit her face and she shuddered.

“Where are we going?” Tears soaked into the blindfold. “Please…”

Hands released her and Y/N teetered on the edge of what felt like the top of a staircase.

A basement.

She panicked.

“No, no, no!”

“I told you to shut the fuck up!”

His fist connected with her temple and Y/N fell. She counted four stairs before every sensation and thought vanished.

“You sure we should be doing this here?”

Y/N looked over from the edge of the bed at Jensen who was fixing his hair in the mirror. He was primped and picture perfect for a busy day at the convention. Tight black tee under a denim jacket, immaculately ripped jeans, and brown boots. Add to it all the longer hair and a beard- he looked a little too good.

He caught her eye in the mirror and smiled. “I do. I think this is the best place to do it.”

Y/N squirmed nervously and lifted her left leg onto her knee so she could retie her sneaker for the tenth time. Her engagement ring glimmered and she sighed happily at the diamond.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

And yet-

“What if they don’t like me? Or they get mad, or-”

Jensen spun around and dipped his chin, looking at her with a stern gaze. “Then I’ll kill them. All of them.”

His voice had dropped to a deep, rough growl and Y/N laughed.

“OK, Dean.”

Jensen exhaled loudly and straightened up, returning to himself. He closed the space between them with two long strides and fell to one knee. He took her hand, the same hand that he’d held two weeks ago when he’d asked her to marry him.

“I promise,” he said softly. “They’re gonna love you.”

Her cheeks warmed and her tension eased.

“How can you be sure?”

Green eyes beamed as he smiled.

“Because I love you.”

Pain woke her.

Stabbing, white-hot pain that spread through the entirety of her left side. Though she couldn’t tell where it manifested from, several points along her body had made contact with the concrete floor and spikes of pain radiated from each one.

Her cheek was smashed against the frozen floor and her nose ached. Gingerly, she rolled onto her back. The scarf over her eyes had shifted a bit and she could see a faint stream of light surrounded by creeping shadows.

The air was frigid and damp, and smelled like mold. She shivered as the cold seeped through her thin clothing and into her soul.

Fear wrapped itself around her lungs and squeezed. Her breathing quickened, her sore jaw trembled. She tasted blood, felt every bruise, every splinter of bone. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the last twelve hours.

Late evening. The convention center. Walking from the loading dock to the back parking lot. Low hanging ceiling; giant yellow lights. Cars jammed in every spot. A dirty white van. A shiny black Explorer. An old gold Camry.

The Camry.

Something heavy hitting her head. Her ears rang. The warmth of blood oozed across her scalp.

She could feel the trunk closing around her, the thin upholstery. The stink of gasoline wrinkled her nose.

Her chest burned. Her throat closed.

She screamed.

“Somebody help me! Help!”

She thrashed against the ground; ropes still would tight around her wrists and legs.

“Help!”

Turning her face back to the concrete, she wiggled her forehead against the stone, pushing the blindfold up and away from her eyes. She blinked into the darkness and let out a hopeless cry.

The basement wasn’t big, but it was old and dark. Light streamed down from the door at the top of the staircase but she’d rather not have any.

Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, spiders lurked in corners, ghosts swept like cold breath over her skin.

“Please…” Tears flowed freely, dripping down her cheeks and onto the floor. She let go, sobbing into the darkness, lost and terrified. “Help me…”

The stage was bigger than she thought it would be; the curtains heavier. She stood off to the side, hiding in the wings while Jensen awed the crowd.

He really was something magnificent. With a tiny smile, he could captivate a crowd. One well-timed wink could send them to their knees, have them swooning and begging for more.

Y/N watched happily as he answered questions and animatedly told a few stories about his work on The Boys. He had a million stories and she would never get tired of hearing them.

She could feel the hour waning and nerves crept up her spine. She steadied her breathing and twirled the platinum ring on her finger. It was too big, she thought, but it didn’t matter. It could be a lump of camel dung and she’d love it. He’d given it to her.

Finally, Jensen cleared his throat and threw a glance over his shoulder at her. It was time.

“I’m sure most of you have heard the rumors,” he said, microphone clutched in his left hand. “So, I thought we’d put them to rest right now.”

The audience’s anticipation was nearly tangible. Hopeful silence rang through the room.

“If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to introduce you to my fiance…”

Right arm extended, Jensen gestured to Y/N and she took a deep breath before stepping out into the bright lights.

Her hands were numb. The skin around her wrists was bloody and stinging. In a panic, she twisted her hands, chewed on the knots, screamed through her teeth.

The desperate cries rang off the leaky stone walls and bounced back at her. She was sure that no one outside would be able to hear her, even if they weren’t in the middle of nowhere.

She had no idea, really, where she was. She did know that they had driven for a long while, and most of the journey had been on uneven, unpaved roads. Surely, they were well outside of the city and anywhere there might be neighbors nearby to hear her pleas for help.

Giving up and afraid of breaking her teeth on the knot, she rolled onto her knees and carefully shuffled over to the stairs. The wooden banister was old and unfinished, just bare wood hammered into place. She rubbed the rope against the edge, hoping to fray the strands and break free.

“What are you gonna do once you get those ropes off?”

Y/N froze and looked around, searching the shadows for the source of the familiar voice.

“Hello?”

“You got a plan?”

“What?” She squinted into the shadows but there was nothing there. She was alone.

“I said, do you have a plan to get out of here?”

“Who’s there!”

A deep, kind laugh. “You know who it is, Y/N/N. What you don’t know is how to get out of here.”

Her heart raced. She did know who it was, but she wouldn’t admit it. If she was hearing his voice, she was going insane. Or she was concussed, which seemed more likely.

Can you go crazy from that?

“Depends on how hard they hit you, I guess,” he said.

Y/N grit her teeth and tried to ignore him. She went back to work furiously rubbing against the post.

“Keep going, you almost got it.”

She sighed. “Go away.”

Another laugh, softer, under his breath. “You don’t mean that. You need me.”

Y/N groaned and kept at her task. Tiny specks of dust and fibers danced in the faint light and she picked up speed, forcing it harder into the wood.

The rope snapped before she could steady herself and she fell forward, smashing her forehead into the corner of the post.

“Fuck!”

Dizzy, she tore the broken twine away and sat back on her ass. She kicked her legs out and untied the rope around her legs. Finally able to move, she jumped to her feet.

The sudden movement was too much for her head and she fell onto the steps, palms crushing into the damp wood.

“Be careful…”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the phantom voice and crawled on aching hands and knees up the steep stairs.

Once at the top, she held her breath and pressed her ear to the door, listening.

If anyone was near, they made no sound.

Carefully, she stood up and grabbed the knob. Praying for release, she turned the brass but it caught halfway around. She turned it again and again hoping something would change, but it was locked.

“Hello!” She beat against the door, kicked it hard. “Help me! Hello!” Fists pounded, her throat tore. “Let me out!”

Someone on the other side kicked at the door and it rattled in the frame.

“Shut the fuck up!” he bellowed, scaring her even more.

Y/N jerked back from the door and felt all hope drain away as boots thudded across the linoleum and the lights went out.

To her surprise, the audience cheered. Smiles beamed up at her from the front row, applause washed over her.

Timidly, and with Jensen’s encouragement, she stepped up to the microphone stand and smiled.

“Hey, guys.”

Her cheeks were burning, her eyes squinting in the stage lights. She raised a hand to shield her face from the glare and looked out into the room. Every seat was filled and fans stood along the back wall. It seemed everyone at the con was in that room, watching Jensen give his big announcement.

She tried to take the mic but her hand was shaking terribly. Jensen came to her aid and pulled it from the stand. He kissed her cheek.

“You’re gonna be great,” he whispered. “They already love you, just go with it.”

Already, people were queueing up on either side of the stage, ready to ask a question should the lines be opened again.

“How’s it going?” she asked, receiving a loud cheer in reply. “Yeah, me too.” She laughed and took a shy step back. Her heart was racing, her lips hurt from smiling.

Jensen watched her with bright, loving eyes. He placed his big hand on her lower back and gave a gentle push.

His touch calmed her instantly. She turned to look up at him and everything else faded away. She’d be fine, he was with her. Always.

“Well, show them,” he said into the mic.

Y/N laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Go on…”

With dramatic, mock reluctance, she extended her left hand and showed off her new ring. It sparkled in the lights and the fans went wild.

She checked the door three more times. She twisted the knob until her palms were raw. She kicked at the wood until her legs ached.

In the darkness, she felt her way down the stairs and collapsed onto the floor. Her head was pounding and a sharp, unending ring blasted loud in her ears.

She lay on her right side, shivering and sweating at the same time. Her face was clammy and her eyes felt as if they were on fire.

“You have a fever,” he said. “That’s not good.”

Y/N turned towards the voice and gasped.

Leaning against the staircase railing was a ghost of her imagination, a handsome vision in a denim jacket and ripped jeans. Red flannel peeked out beneath the jacket and his pockets were full. His jaw was shaded with light stubble; his hair was short and fluffed upwards. His forehead was creased and he crossed his ankles and arms, staring down at her.

She shook her head but her vision wouldn’t clear. He was blurry but obviously there.

“Dean?”

He chuckled. “Who else?”

She sighed painfully and closed her eyes. “You’re not real.”

The apparition pushed off from the post and shrugged. “I’m more real than anything else you got right now. Who are you gonna talk to? That rat over there?”

She cringed. “What!”

He laughed outright and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You’re gonna have to toughen up real quick, Sweetheart, if you’re gonna get out of this.”

“There’s no way out of this.”

Dean crouched down, set his forearms on his knees, getting close to her. “There’s always a way out. You may not like it, but there’s always a way.”

Something caught in the back of her throat and she coughed hard. Violent pain erupted across her middle and she screamed, folding in on herself.

Dean’s worried hands floated over her body; his face contorted with helplessness.

“Hey. Hey! You’re OK. Just breathe.”

She coughed again and her limbs spasmed, twisting inwards.

“Hey! Y/N/N, come on.”

She imagined she could feel the heaviness of his hand on her shoulder.

“Shh… It’s a broken rib… or six. You’re gonna be OK.”

Her eyes were wide, her skin paled. “Can’t… breathe.”

“Hey, hang on… Stay with me!”

Another cough let loose a spray of crimson from her lips and Y/N’s eyes rolled back.

Dean’s voice echoed in her head and everything else faded away.

He kissed her on stage. In front of everyone. In front of a thousand cameras flashing and videos rolling. He kissed her hard, dipped her over his arm.

Y/N was embarrassed and thrilled and in love. It was hard to contain or sort through the emotions running through her, and when they walked off stage together, she started to cry.

Jensen spun around and bent down to reach her eye level.

“Baby, no… what’s wrong?”

She shook her head and tried to look away, but two giant hands framed her face and held her there.

“What’s going on?” he asked, green eyes flooded with worry. “Did I do something?”

She smiled and sniffled. “No. No, Jen, you didn’t. I’m just…” She took a shaky breath. “I’m so fucking happy.”

She took a shaky breath and lifted her head from the frozen concrete. The chill had entered her bones, chilling the marrow and numbing her digits. Her joints ached; the breaks in her body stung. She wiped at the dried blood on her mouth and tried to sit up.

It hurt too much to move.

“I’m thirsty,” she croaked. Her throat was raw and her voice crackled.

“You gotta get outta here.”

She growled. “Ya think? How?” She pushed up on one arm and glared his way.

Dean was standing in the dark next to the stairs. Hands shoved in his pockets; bottom lip tugged harshly between his teeth.

“I don’t even know where ‘here’ is!”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Or who they are!”

He pursed his lips, took a breath. “I know-”

“Or why the fuck I’m locked in a basement!”

Dean rolled his head on his shoulders, looking for answers on the ceiling. “That’s it.” He snapped his fingers and looked down at her.

“What’s it?”

“Why are you here?”

She rolled onto her ass and slowly tucked her knees to her chest. Every movement hurt, but it was better than freezing to death laid out like a ragdoll.

“I already said, I don’t know.”

He dropped his chin, narrowed his gaze. “Think.”

She shook her head. “I have no fucking idea.”

“They haven’t touched you,” he noted.

She scoffed. “Um… I don’t know if you recall that I’ve been bludgeoned and shoved into a trunk and beaten and-”

Dean held up his hand, surrendering and asking for patience. “I mean, they haven’t… touched touched you.”

“You mean like-”

“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“So they’re not gonna like… rape me or anything. That’s good.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He scratched his head. “So why are you here? What do they want from you?”

Y/N shrugged and winced at a new found pain. Her neck was stiff, her spine tingled.

“Think!”

She startled. “I don’t know!”

“Think. What’s missing?”

“I don’t-” Her head hurt. Her vision unfocused.

“Come on, kid. Think.”

“My… my ring.” She reached for the diamond, but her finger was bare. “My ring is gone.”

Dean hummed. “Yeah. But what’s still here?”

She took stock of herself, struggling to remember what she’d worn that morning and what was left.

“My necklace,” she answered, touching her clavicle. “My jewelry. They didn’t take anything else.”

Dean came closer as he led her thought process along. “So, they…”

She swallowed hard. “This isn’t a robbery or anything. They don’t want to rape me. They… It’s got something to do with you.” She looked up into green eyes and a hard expression. “I mean, with- with Jensen.”

TO BE CONTINUED... Part Two

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[holylulusworld]

The inventor

Summary: You try to make the hunter’s life easier.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x GN!Reader

Warnings: crack!fic, fun, grumpy Dean

A/N: I saw the idea with a hula-hoop on social media and had to turn it into a fic.

“I got a new idea!” You exclaim as you run inside the library. Since Dean and Sam saved you from a werewolf and took you in, you try to help them. You are their research buddy and their personal inventor.

“Not again,” Dean groans. He rolls his eyes as you carry your invention book, your laptop, and a plastic bag filled with God knows inside the library. “I try to drink in silence. Please don’t let anything explode again.”

“Oopsie!” You giggle. “Dean, that was an accident. It was your fault, though. You tickled me, and I dropped the liquid fire I invented.”

“You didn’t invent anything, Y/N!” Dean mutters under his breath. He wanted to celebrate another successful hunt with booze and watching porn. Now you are placing a construction plan in front of him. “What's this again?”

“A salt-filled hula-hoop ring! You know, like a salt ring, but you can carry it around because it’s inside a hula-hoop!” You excitedly tell Dean about your newest invention. “You can put it around a person and keep them safe from ghosts while you gank the monster. “Oh, it will work with demons too.”

Dean snorts. “I don’t think this will work. The hula-hoop will weaken the effect. We don’t put a box of salt in front of a person to protect them, either.”

“But—” You harrumph. Dean just had to ruin yet another idea to improve their hunting arsenal. “A box is not the same as a hula-hoop!”

“I won’t carry that thing around.” Dean points at the construction plan. “We will stick to salt rings.”

“Water—wind—spit. Anything can break a salt ring, but not my hula-hoop salt ring!” You won’t give up. “Maybe we can try it out on the next hunt! OR WAIT!!!” You gasp as the next idea floods your mind. “Let’s summon Crowley. We can check if he can break the salt ring!”

“No.” Dean cuts you off. “This is not handy, and just stupid!”

“Your face is stupid!” You grab your construction plan and storm out of the library, cursing Dean’s birth.

“SAMMY!” You’re panting while chasing after Sam. He tried to enter the library for research, and now you are hot on his heels. “What do you think about wearing silver rings on every finger to punch werewolves and ghouls in the face? I could make you some. Maybe secret compartment rings. I can put salt inside.”

“You want us to wear rings on every finger? We can’t do anything with rings on our fingers. What if we want to shoot a werewolf, and the huge secret compartment rings get in our way?”

You sigh. Damnit. You worked on the first ring for days and didn’t think about using a gun while wearing it. A fine inventor you are…

“How about car mats with a devil’s trap? This way, no demon can enter your car,” you proudly point at Baby stand in the garage. “That’s a good idea, right?”

“Uh—I hate to tell you so, but we already have a devil’s trap painted to the roof of the trunk. And trust me, no dirty demon will enter my car on my watch.”

You purse your lips. “Fine, let any demon sneak into your car, Winchester.” You storm off, cursing loudly as you decide to never help them again.

“DEAN! I got an idea!” You run inside the kitchen, a water gun in your hands. “LOOK! A water gun filled with holy water and some salt!” You grin proudly. This is it, the idea of the century. Even Dean must see this is the only way to defeat demons.

“Hmm…” He grumbles. Dean eyes the colorful water gun. He shakes his head and turns to walk out of the kitchen. “That looks like Barbie’s gun. I won’t use it.”

“I can spray it black,” you offer. “It will look cool. Dean! Wait!” You chase after Dean, determined to convince him to use the water gun from now on. “It will work!”

“Nope,” he shrugs when you tell him he’s a jerk. “I won’t use your toy gun. Just stop inventing shit.”

“One day, I will invent something to shrink your dick!” You yell after Dean, making him chuckle. “You’ll see Winchester. One day you will wake up and whimper, oh no, my dick is tiny, and I need a magnifying glass to find it!”

Dean laughs while walking toward the library. You follow him, telling the hunter how much better all your inventions would make his life.

“If you invent something to turn dust into a pie, I’m game.” He grins when you look at him with glassy eyes. Dean wants you to invent something.

“I’ll turn every dust mouse into the most delicious pie!” You exclaim before storming out of the library. “You’ll beg me to give you a slice.”

Dean watches you leave the library; he cocks a brow, wondering if you can turn dirt into a pie.

Tags in reblog.

[bobawitch]

Birthday Wishes | M.S

a/n: just a little fluffy situation where reader thinks her bday will go unnoticed but matt plans a little date

cw: some mild angst/abandonment issues, fluff

wc: 883

Birthdays were never an anticipated event for you. Most of your birthdays sucked in full honesty. Like your 15th birthday, sitting with your friends when you heard a loud slam. You quickly ran downstairs, your friends standing at the edge of the stairs to gather the situation. You were met with the sight of your mother in tears, soon you heard the engine of your step dad's truck pulling out and leaving. Safe to say that birthday was assuredly ruined. That was only the tip of the shitty birthday iceberg, honestly you barely even celebrate it anymore. Sometimes you’ll get a free drink or two from a bar or cafe but never a party. That brings you to today, your 21’st birthday. You had gotten a free coffee from Starbucks and now you had settled into your couch and put on a movie. The sky had grown dark and you were cozied in a blanket with one of your boyfriend’s hoodies. And speaking of your boyfriend your phone buzzed. You picked up the phone and paused your movie before speaking. “Hey Matt, what’s up babe?” “Come outside we’re going on a trip.” “Hm? Matt I’m in sweats I-” “Don’t worry, you don't need to be dressed up for this.” You sighed, he had that kind of tone that you knew if you didn’t come outside he’d march in and bring you out on his shoulder.

With this in mind you put on the smallest amount of makeup and changed into a better hoodie before walking outside. There stood Matt Sturniolo, your boyfriend of 8 months. You smiled and walked up to him and hugged him. He huffed out a laugh before wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing. “Hey babydoll. You look cute.” You smiled, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks love, you look as handsome as ever.” He chuckled and patted your head before grabbing your hand. “Ok ok come on, I have a surprise for you.” He spoke softly as he walked you to the car, opening the door for you like he always did. “Ooo, I’m excited. Random surprises all for me.” Matt smiled as he began to drive. Overall it was a pretty calm drive, Matt had a few moments of brief road rage before calming down. Soon the two of you were in an empty field outside of the city. 

“Y’know Matt this is a really good place to kill me haha.” You joked before turning to him. “Maybe that’s what I’m doing. You’d never see it coming.” You laughed at Matt’s comment before stepping out of the car and looking around. Matt followed you out of the car before walking to the trunk of the car and pulling out a big blanket and a basket filled with food? You looked over at Matt and he smiled. “Happy Birthday babydoll.” Your face quickly blossomed into a dark blush and you felt tears pricking your eyes. You moved over to your boyfriend and quickly hugged him, letting a few tears fall down your cheeks. You grasped onto his hoodie tightly and let happy tears stream down your face. “Thank you..” You mumbled into his chest before he pulled you off him. “Of course baby. You deserve to be celebrated.” He then grabbed your hand and pulled you out in front of the car. He laid down the blanket and set the basket down. It was filled to the brim with all of your favorite snacks and even your favorite soda. You sat down on the blanket and basically tackled Matt to the ground, laying on top of him and peppering kisses all over his face.

“What’d I do to deserve you.” You mumbled between frantic kisses. Matt giggled, gripping onto your hips as you cuddled into him. “Ok ok ok baby baby I brought you out here to stargaze not be attacked.” You flicked his nose at that comment before resting your head against his chest. “This is perfect, I love it.” Slowly you rolled over so you could look up at the sky. Matt wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to his side. You moved to grab a bag of chips, opening them and offering some to Matt. You both sat in near silence before you set the chips down and looked up at Matt. “I thought you forgot about my birthday.” Matt quickly turned his head to you, shock edged deep in his gentle features. “What? Baby I would never forget your birthday. I put it on my next 3 calendars the second you told me.” Something about his words just healed a part of your heart. You pulled Matt in by his cheek, pressing your lips to his in a deep passionate kiss. Matt kissed back, shifting to hold you closer to him. When he finally pulled back he stared into your eyes, tucking some stray hair away from your face. “I love you so much Y/N, happy birthday my love.” You smiled and pushed your fingers into his hair pulling him back into another kiss. “I love you too Matthew.” You pressed another kiss to his cheek before laying down again. “This is the best birthday ever.” “Only the best for my girl.”

[creeksandsocks]

The Diner

Pairing Eddie Munson x f!reader

Tags: Fluffy, Mature (just to be safe), bad writing, writer has no knowledge of Dnd, Mentions of food/eating

Authors note: okay, this is my first EVER fic, so please bear with me 😪 as the writing and pacing will probably be janky. This is really a conglomeration of a bunch of little ideas that come into my head about the man of the hour, please feel free to leave me constrictive criticism or any asks! Thank you so much for reading my fic *mwah

[3.8k words]

It's freezing, early winter’s 9 PM wind gives you goosebumps down your legs. You wrangle the flowing pleats of your skirt in your left hand, hoping to both provide yourself any semblance of insulation and protect yourself from flashing your panties to the empty Hawkins High Parking lot. Your right hand clutches the pay phone to you, it stays nestled in the crook of your shoulder as you desperately try to call Steve. 

Your eyes reread the graffiti that was hastily scratched into the weathered plastic of the booth. Before you can reread the entirety of the angsty scribbles on the wall, you're put through to voicemail. For the umpteeth time,  you hear his outgoing message repeat “You’ve reached Steve, I can’t answer your-”. You slam your finger onto the “2” symbol of the key pad, effectively skipping through the rest of his message so you can beg into the receiver.

“Hey, man!” you grit “I get your probably tired, but, like, im freezing out here. Please come pick me up- us up!”

You're stranded in the parking lot of your own high school. Dustin had somehow convinced you that it was in fact a good use of your Friday night to drive him to his hellfire club meeting. Because you loved him (and because your BFF Robin was forced into an awkward and inescapable dinner with her estranged grandparents) and your Friday night was rendered free you gave the kid a ride. After dropping him off and sending a lighthearted wave his way (which he decided he isn’t yet too cool to reciprocate). You tried pulling out of your spot. The thing is, you’re close enough to downtown and already out of the comfort of your bed that you decided to make your time at least a little bit useful, maybe exchange the sweater that's been sitting in your trunk for two months or windowshop downtown? But, your plans were ruined the second you place your foot on the gas.

While contorted in the front seat, trying to stretch and see behind yourself as you peel out of your spot, the car's steering wheel pulled against you and and the entire vehicle veered left. Slamming your foot on the break your heart sunk. Fuck, you think im screwed. You hop out of the drivers chair and the cold bites at you as you timidly make your way around your car, investigating what the problem could be. You make a semicircle around the hood of your car before you are met with the culprit. A cartoonishly large nail was stabbed into the side of your tire, leaving the entire thing deflated. 

Though it felt like your joints had been frozen and locked into place by the nipping cold, you remarkably made it back into the driver's seat of your car, relishing the heated air that swirled around you. Running through ideas you decided your best bet was Steve. You didn’t have a spare tire, your parents would probably make a whole fuss out of your flat tire, robin was busy, too. Though he had made a big point on how “fucking awesomeeee” his before-dinner nap would be, you couldn’t fathom it lasting longer than the four hours it had been - let alone a phone call blaring from his nightstand. 

You scavenged around your car and ended up with a decent ball of random change from the floor mats of your car. Reaching into the backseat you grabbed the sweater you had stashed back there before leaving. You threw it over your head, and pulled your hair from being trapped under the neckline. You braced yourself and did a mad dash to the phone booth. You called Steve three times before you decided your attempts to rouse the, apparently still, sleeping bear were futile and trudged back to your car. After turning your keys in the ignition and warming your stiff fingers in the vents you devised a plan. You'll wait here for the duration of Dustin’s campaign When the meeting is scheduled to end, you return to the phone booth. Given that the meeting goes its usual fifteen minutes overtime, you'll have enough time to call and convince Steve to come and be a hero to both you and Dustin. In the absolute worst, most embarrassing, hoping-you-get-hit-by-lightning case you could ask Gareth for a ride. Out of all the driving-age Hellfire members, he’d probably be most keen on doing you a favor like this. In fact, he said he owed you his “entire life and academic career” when you corrected his French homework for him. But, you've never hung out with, colloquially known to Dustin, “the boys”. Let alone any boy ever. It just felt too intimate to ask him for a ride, besides you weren’t sure you'd be able to handle standing in the vicinity of the leading member of Hellfire who’s been the apple of your eye for the past few months, Eddie.

To set the record straight, Eddie is known as gumdrop to you and Robin (because it is in fact best friend law to have nicknames for your guys’ crushes). Robin, you and Steve have all basked in the shared misery of lovesickness together from behind the counter of your job at Family Video. Besides silently judging customers and their movie choices, you spent your shifts reveling in moments throughout the day when you had brief and blushing eye contact with your respective crushes. 

For now, you were entirely content with adoringly staring at the side of Eddie’s big, boyish head from the last row of your history class. Besides gentle urging from both your closest friends, you’ve never really made a move on him. Other than asking him the day’s date or sharing shocked eye contact whenever your teacher said something especially out of pocket. In the cafeteria, Robin often stared at you knowingly every time you started gumdrop’s direction, giggling when he made a stupid or obscene gesture from the head of his own table. She was frankly disgusted when you blushed at him halfway-choking on a pretzel. You thought, hahaha hes sooo funny and silly he coughed omgg lol his friends didnt notice when the pretzel went downthe wrong pipe ahahha omg hes so cute i didnt even get the ick from that he's like a baby ani-.

That leads you to now, freezing and hopeless. From far away you hear the auditorium doors slam “damn it!” You curse. The hollering of pubescent boys is a telltale sign Hellfire has let out. You decide that it's the lesser of two evils to just ask Gareth for a ride rather than be discovered by a pack of teenage boys as you curl yourself around a pay phone. You put your last 10¢ into the pay phone and add to the avalanche of messages Steve will be bombarded with when he wakes up. “Okay, so! Change of plans, I'm getting a ride you don't need to do anything, goodnight love you bye!” You quickly gush out before you slam the phone back into its holder. Resulting in a  reverberating, metallic chime from the man-handled tech. You lean your back on the wall of the school, pitching both your feet out in front of you and using the push of them to keep you balanced. You take a deep breath, it's refreshing even though stunted by the pinching cold. Moments after you’ve made yourself comfortable against the brick wall, Jeff swings around the corner followed by Freak and Gareth. 

They do look shocked to see you, but certainly not disappointed. In fact, they're probably in heaven. You're a pretty girl stationed just outside of a seemingly successful club meeting. They form a line facing you, and Gareth speaks up first. “Hi, what’re you doin’ here? Like, we don’t mind or anything but Dustin said you were just dropping him off?” You inhale to reply before Jeff blurts out “We’re actually gonna grab some burgers down the road, if you wanted to come?” The sweet boy tries to dull his own enthusiasm by (not)cooly adding “Cause you're with Dustin anyways”. I mean, you are hungry and Dustin loves these guys, why deprive him of a prime Friday night just because you are nervous? You shock yourself with how confidently you reply “Yeah, actually! I would love to, I mean as long as it's not a burden at all!”. 

“Oh shit!” freak interjects and whips his head towards his left, “Jeff I left my backpack in your car”. Jeff deadpans the man before gesturing for him to follow out into the parking lot. Now alone there's a comfortable silence between you and Gareth.

He breaks the silence asking you how your night went. You start, “Uh… my car actually-”.

You’re abruptly cut off by being body slammed into the brick wall behind you. Your senses are overwhelmed by a throb at the back of your head and shoulders paired with the strong scent of a boy. You groan and slowly open your eyes. Standing in front of you Is Eddie Munson in all of his glory - he tightly rounded the corner thinking he would be met with emptiness, but instead slammed you a step back into the school's wall. As he steps back from you he apologizes profusely, “Oh my god, i'm so sorry, seriously! I really didn’t expect to see you there, are you okay?”. You give him a gentle smile and reassure him “no, don’t worry! It’s really okay, like actually it doesn’ even hurt”. He continues to apologize and confirm you haven’t been damaged by his foolery. You continue to tell him that, really, you’re okay. You forget about the cold air, Gareth (who is bent over laughing at his best friend) and the slight pain in your skull. When you realize that: Eddie is still standing very close to you and he is still very cute from that distance. It seems you both realize at the same time that you're standing intimately close,  but he only steps back seconds later when he’s snapped back into reality by Dustin and Mike rounding the corner. 

“HEY GUYS”, Gareth wheezes as he angles himself towards two youngest arrivals. Now fully upright, but still suffering the aftershocks of what is probably the hardest he’s laughed all week. “Eddie just-” he cuts himself off again with guffawing. 

Eddie whips around, “C’mon man it wasn't even that funny” he grits. Though it’s impossible to tell, it sounds like his eyes are wide and pleading as he commands his friend. Eventually, Gareth is able to share the scenario with both the freshman and the boys returning from their car errand. By the time he's gotten it out, even you and Eddie, though blushing, are able to laugh at yourselves, too.

Youv’e all organized yourself into a huddle. Everyone is delighted to confirm that “operation burger” is indeed still a go; mostly unchanged by you, the newest addition to the escapade. You hadn’t found an appropriate time to share the unfortunate predicament that your car could be found in just yet. You decide that it's better to drop the bomb on Gareth after your group diner-date. Hoping to avoid baskining the in the humiliation for the entirely of your time if he so happens to say no. Eddie, being the only owner of a vehicle large enough to transport the entire group of teenagrs, was forced into being the driver. Thankfully though, he doesn’t seem to mind; assuming the role similarly to how he did with becoming the leader of Hellfire club.

Walking to his van, which is parked in the back corner of the parking lot, Eddie and you lag behind the rest of the group. Walking near him, you watch as both of your guys’ breath is visible in the night air. Though Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will often gushed about their weekend-long campaigns to you, you didn’t really know much about DnD. Much to the dismay of the kids, you never joined them in a game no matter how eager they seemed to teach you. “So, how was your, uh, game” you question, “is it, like, finished or successful, or did you win or something?”. Though you cringe at yourself for sounding so amateur in your questioning, you’re proud of yourself for talking unprompted.

His furrowed brows raise as he processes the question. He removes his hands from deep inside his leather jacket pockets so that he can gesture with them. “Well it actually was pretty cool!” he enthuses, and you're immediately relieved that he understood you, “They made a lot of progress in it- but it's still far from being done, like a couple hours at least. They usually take a couple meetings before we can wrap them up. But so far, im totally kicking their asses”. He smirks when he notices that you stared kindly at him with big eyes without his entire spiel. Besides softly reassuring him “nice, that's good..” an awkward silence fell between the two of you.

You're close enough to his van that the freshman who were leading the pack are waiting expectantly at the side of the van. From your peripheral vision, you can see him eyeing you. You probably look pathetic right now, goosebumped legs, and clutching your thin sweater around yourself, in a futile warming hug. “Umm” he breaks the silence, “are you cold? I can give you my jacket, it's no problem really-”. You blush and angle your head to the right, hoping to shield your smirk from him. You whip your head around to respond to him, but he's already it shrugging off. Though you’re delighted to wear his jacket. His jacket! You're scared that he's simply offering because he’s a gentleman. It’s not out of character for him to act so gallantly towards you; he opens the classroom door for you every time he's given the opportunity. One time he even pried your stuck locker open for you while you fawned at his biceps flexing under his Slayer band tee. You grab it from him and enjoy the fact that it’s still warm from his body heat. You also enjoy the look of his outfit, a Dio shirt layered over a white long sleeve. You earnestly thank him before you bundle up in it and overlap the front zippered panels on your stomach, wrapping yourself in it. His jacket smells just like him, perfect and manly without the suffocating amounts of cologne.

The entire group reaches the van and piles in. It seemed Eddie wanted to offer you the passenger seat, but Freak was already buckling himself in before he could ask. You’re all squeezed in the back two rows. You, specifically, are squashed between Mike and Dustin. The ride to the diner is filled with boys recounting the events of the campaign, congratulating and criticizing each other. You reach your destination before you’re even able to entirely settle in, it’s maybe four minutes from your school. He parks in the back of the parking lot. He doesn’t want to clog up prime parking with his massive mode of transport. You all rush into the diner and head to one of the booths that lines the walls of the decrepit diner. He gestures, kindly, for you to take the first spot, nearest to the window. You slide in and he quickly follows suit, he wants to make sure he secures the prime spot next to you. Everyone piles in freak next to Eddie and you end up facing Dustin, and you kick his shins under the table like your siblings. Jeff and Gareth are sitting on the backrest of the booth that both younger boys occupy, leaning in. Weirdly, the diner is barren for a Friday night. Some sleazy party is probably booming in one of the estates in a neighbourhood nearby. Though out of the ordinary, none of the group condemns the empty diner. You are subsequently free from prying eyes of jocks and now have even more reason to be rowdy, though still respectful enough to avoid annoying the entire restaurant, diners and waitstaff, alike.

Mel’s diner is nice enough, it’s had a boost in business since Benny’s went out of business a while back. The seats are bright vinyl leather and the two legged table top is infinitely sticky. Some of the overhead lights flicker occasionally, but overall its a nice place with a gumball machine exactly to the left of the front entrance. 

You keep Eddie’s jacket on, not wanting to lose the conforming weight of it wrapped around your shoulders, it also shields you from the night’s cold seeping in through the front windows just next to you. An older waitress comes and collects your orders. You only want a chocolate shake despite the cold, chocolate milkshakes always hit the spot. Dustin orders one too, only switching it for vanilla. Most of the boys order burgers, fries and drinks. They're probably starving - they've unlikely had any sustenance since school ended other than Mountain Dew and Pringles that they feast on during their campaigns. While waiting for the food to come, the boys continue to recap their campaign and Eddie makes sure to tilt his head towards you to fill in any information he thinks that a non-participant would need to follow along.

It feels awfully intimate to have him so close to you, almost cageling you in every time he verbally annotates the conversation. The old leather seats pucker under his manly frame and his radiating body heat makes your mouth water as he's splayed out next to you. Sometime  after placing your orders, he stretched both his arms around the back of the seat rest. Leaving his arms wide and chest opened. It almost feels like his arm is around your shoulders - being squished three people deep into a two-seater has forced your shoulder near to his armpit. From there, his body heat radiates even stronger.

The waitress eventually brings your guys’ food, she splits it into two runs in order to prevent spilling any. Everyone’s quieted now, fully focused on eating their meal. Eddie keeps his left arm, the one behind you, perched on the back of the seats. His right arm was relieved of its station and holds his burger.

He’s a cute eater, you think. He closes his mouth politely as he chews but still stays engaged in the conversation by furrowing his brows or a strained closed-mouthed smile. As he takes a challengingly large bite of the burger ketchup squeezes from the burger onto his lip and pants, his tongue darts out to lick the small drip from his lips. The drip on his jeans is just above the line that connects his thigh to hip. The ketchup doesn’t immediately absorb into the black denim and almost hovers above it, nestled in the folds of his pants. Now, it is not your fault that the ketchup is a mere four inches from his… manly convexity and it is not your fault that you're entranced by the projection in the crotch of his pants. Your head snaps up when he peers over at you with blushing cheeks, embarrassed to have spilled on himself in front of you, even in such a minor amount. You keep eye contact and barely contain snorting laughs  as he gingerly slides a napkin from the table and wipes the glob off his pants. He still has an unchewed mouthful of burger, bulging his cheeks out like a hamster when he slowly places his pointer finger against his mouth. At that, you both chuckle. He balls his previously pointing hand into a fist to cover his mouth as it opens to laugh.

He smirks the left side of his mouth and side eyes you, in an attempt to keep his head straight as he sneaks one of his fries into your shake. Grinning mischievously as he brings the dipped fry to his mouth. You return the favor, keeping your head straight ahead as you strain your eyes looking to the right to steal one of his fries and eat it bite-by-bite. He doesn’t even mind that you chose one of his perfectly soggy long ones instead of a sub-par fry. 

It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten to the diner. You don't want to leave, you've fallen into comfortable conversation with all the guys at the table. You even basked in moments when all pairs of eyes were on you as you shared juicy bits about school drama that was previously entirely unknown to them.

When your waitress finally arrives you all silently agree to pay for your own meals, it's common knowledge among broke high school kids like yourselves that it's everyman for himself when it comes to paying. Everyone pools their money in the middle of the table. As someone who has easy access to the bills and change that clutter the table, Eddie takes to bundling it up and handing it to the waitress, he tells her to keep the change with an unsubtle wink that she’s unamused with. Eddie doesn’t even look at you as he slides the five dollar bill you placed down to pay, back to you. You assume he thought you laid it out on the table as you rifled through your wallet for exact change. Before you can correct him, though, he's already sliding out of the diner booth. You follow him out and hold your flaccid bill out to him.

 “To pay” to tell him, hoping your assumption had been correct, that he just didn’t notice your bill sitting on the table.

“No uh, I did you! I’m happy to do you!” He says as he stretches his arm up to nervously scratch his neck. 

“What?!” you say as you are laughing at his unintentionally implied dirty talk.

“No- wait, I mean I paid for you! Sorry, like I did it for you…” he becomes shy as he corrects himself and his cheeks grow pink.

You spare the poor guy any more embarrassment and thank him before you all trudge out of the diner. Eddie’s just thankful that Gareth wasn’t within earshot of that one, he was unsure he'd ever live it down.

Everyone reassumes their spots as you crowd yourself in the back of his van, and you're disappointed at how short the drive is. You hoped this moment would last forever, if not a little longer. You enjoy the familial feeling that shines in the van. The cold air that greets you as you step out the van pulls you out of the moment. 

You're sure at this point Gareth will give you a ride home, but that's at the back of your mind as you try to catch Eddie's eye so you can wave him off into the night.

[cabinetofquriosities]

Everybody Wants to Rule the World || Chapter 4 || Vernon

Agatha x Rio || TW: Smut and violence

Fic Masterpost || Please leave a comment on ao3

—————————————————————

Agatha surveyed her surroundings as she drove into Vermont. Everything was frozen, but beautiful all the same. Webs of small branches were encased in ice. Their trunks were stained with snow. The sky was matted with grey clouds that cast a mask of gloom over the town.

The town was charming, filled with spread out neighborhoods of wood paneled houses. As she drove past a white church with a slanted roof and square tower, she looked across the water to see a looming structure. It was a dark grey cube topped with light grey. Something about the cold structure was out of place in what was in the otherwise warm town. Her phone’s harsh ringtone shocked her out of her trance.

“Harkness,” she said.

“You know, you don’t need to pick up like that on your personal phone.”

“Wanda… Sorry, I got them mixed up. How’s it going?”

“Pretty well… I know it’s short notice, but can you come over tonight?”

“I…” Agatha sighed, “I don’t know. I’m all the way in Vermont…”

“Nope, not taking no for an answer.”

“What?!“

“We haven’t hung out in person for over a month. You’re coming over for dinner.”

“We can hang out this weekend with the boys,” Agatha said, turning onto a bridge.

“It has to be tonight,” Wanda said.

“Why? What is so important about tonight?”

“I want you to meet Nat.”

“O-oh! Natasha? You never introduce anyone. So, things are getting serious with you two,” Agatha said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Stooop. I just… it’s been four months and I thought she should meet my best friend.”

“Has she met the boys?”

“No! Not yet. Thats at least a few months away. Buuut, I want to get your take on her.”

“My… take? Are you sure?” Agatha asked.

“You may be tactless sometimes..”

“Thanks.”

“… But you’re always honest with me. I need that. I get-“

“You give people way too much benefit of the doubt,” Agatha stated.

“Excuse me, I like to think I see the best in people.”

“Even when it’s barely there.”

“Agatha.”

“Fine. I’ll be there at seven.”

“Thank you. I think you two will get along well.”

“Eh, last time you said that, the girl tried saging me the moment I walked through the door.”

“Well, Nat doesn’t have an affinity for crystals or spiritualism. You should be safe from Palo Santo for now.”

“Silver lining,” she said dryly, “I gotta go, but I’ll see you tonight.”

“Alright, don’t be late!”

Agatha smirked as she hung up, happy that Wanda finally found someone who stuck around for longer than two months. She always seemed to find people who never deserved her.

She pulled up to a line of caution tape well outside of the bounds of the grey building. It was the last vestiges of the former Yankee Nuclear Power Station that had been closed years back. She stepped out of her car and was met by Officer Claudia Hawley. She was a short Irish woman with pale, freckled skin and murky red curls peeking out from her tightly wound bun.

“Agent Harkness. Thank you for making the trip here.”

“No problem. Glad to help.”

“A few things to go over. You will need to limit your time onsite and wear protective gear.”

“Sorry, what now?” Agatha asked, her brows shooting up.

“The plant was decommissioned, but the soil and area is still contaminated. The rest of the plant has been demolished, but the only part left standing is the reactor building.”

“Why was it closed?” Agatha asked a bit warily, “Did something happen?”

“I mean, there were a few incidents where radioactive material was found in the groundwater. Parts of it failed at certain points as well, but it never fully melted down.”

“No wonder they pulled the plug.”

“Oh, that’s not why they closed it,“ Claudia said with an air of disdain, “The plant wasn’t making enough money.”

“That tracks. Gotta love capitalism at work. So, what do I need to wear?” Agatha asked.

“A protective suit, boots, and a mask,” she said, “Your partner got here about thirty minutes ago and is already putting hers in at the tent.”

“My what?”

A tall, striking black woman with intensely judgmental eyes walked over. Well, they were typically only judgmental towards Agatha. Her lips were pursed as she looked her up and down. Jenn shook her head.

“Nope, not happening,” Jenn said, turning to leave.

“I’m not happy about it either, but here we are,” Agatha said.

Agatha pulled her phone out, making sure it was her work phone. She called Lilia who answered immediately.

“I know what you’re going to say, Agatha. We’re not doing this.”

“Why her? Out of every agent, you have to pick the most stuck up-“

“I’m, like, ten feet away. I can clearly hear you,” Jen said.

“Agatha. I know you two can’t stand each other, but you are my two best. Like it or not, you make a good team. Do your job.”

“Lili-“ Agatha began before her phone returned to her lock screen, “What the hell, she hung up on me.”

“I guess we need to get through this,” Jenn said, “There’s no use bargaining with that woman once she’s put you in a time-out.”

“What did you do to earn yours?” Agatha asked.

“I called out another agent when he made a wrong move,” Jenn said, pulling her thin, white protective suit up, “I also… may have made a snide comment about him during a briefing in front of the team.”

“That’s not a huge deal,” Agatha said as she took her own suit and kicked off her shoes.

“I know. It didn’t help that his daddy was a higher up, though,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Not Jenkins…”

“Yep. Little worm. Why were you put in time out? Did you tackle another unsub?” Jenn asked dryly while sliding her arms into the sleeves.

“I maintain that guy already broke his collarbone when he jumped the fence,” she said, looking away with a smirk, “No, I didn’t rough anyone up this time.”

“Bribery?”

“I wouldn’t be that messy.”

“Got it. You may be dirty, but never messy. Tampering with evidence?”

“They’ve never been able to make any of those accusations stick,” Agatha pointed out while zipping the front of her suit up.

“How the hell are you still an agent?”

“Because I get results… and I’m careful not to expose how I get them.”

“You haven’t told me. What did you do to piss Lilia off this time?” Jenn asked.

“You know that case in Englewood about five months back?” she asked, grunting as she yanked the black, heavy boots on.

“The one with that guy beaten to death in the garden?” Jenn asked while pulling her gloves on.

“Yeah. Aaron James. I - allegedly - threatened the local authorities when they gave me the runaround about his background. I also may have ignored Lilia’s order to not look further into the guy and dug up some privileged information using some outside help… again, allegedly.”

“What did you find?” Jenn asked.

Agatha arched a brow at her.

“Oh, come on. I know we’re not best friends or anything, but you know you can count on me to be discreet,” Jenn said.

“Let’s get through today. Maybe I’ll tell you later if there’s a connection.”

“I’ve looked over the case files. I know about the connection to the other murders. I’m not looking to take you down professionally.”

“Only emotionally.”

“Well, yes. But when it comes to our work, I know things can be a bit more grey. It may not be my way of working, but at least the rules you break are the ones that need to be broken for some cases. I can respect that enough to look the other way as long as it’s more helpful than harmful.”

Agatha pursed her lips, her brow furrowing as she considered her options. Jenn may have been a a rival of sorts, but it was undeniable that she was extremely intelligent and capable. She was the only agent apart from Lilia who could spar with her on equal footing.

“Fine. I found out that Aaron wasn’t exactly a saint.”

“How so?” Jenn asked, crossing her arms.

“He had three stalking charges on his record. One was a classmate in high school. She filed a restraining order before dropping out to be homeschooled.”

“Geez, poor girl…”

“They managed to seal that one since he was a minor. The second was his roommate’s girlfriend. He terrorized her for the whole of college, but the school talked her out of reporting it a number of times. A few years after graduating, he began ‘bumping into’ her nearly every day. She caught him idling in his car outside of her apartment building. She filed a restraining order that didn’t do much. When he violated it, his mother - she is a shark of a lawyer - got him off. He kept following her for another two years before she moved to another state.”

“And the third?”

“Ended up in the hospital. They briefly dated for five months in his early thirties. When she broke up with him, he harassed her at work, home, and anywhere she went.”

“For how long?” Jenn asked.

“Six years,” Agatha replied.

“Fuck…”

“She moved from city to city, but he always caught up to her. The police didn’t take her seriously and just told her to keep track of what he did. One morning, she went on an early run and was pulled into an alleyway where he beat her within an inch of her life. From the pictures I saw, it wouldn’t be surprising if he thought he had killed her when he left.”

“And how the hell did he get away with that one?” Jenn asked.

“That last city was the one his father served in as a cop.”

“Of course.”

“That in addition with his mother’s help… it didn’t even go to trial. I wouldn’t be surprised if his victim was intimidated out of pressing charges.”

“Then what?”

“He was dead a month later with tulips shoved down his throat,” Agatha said.

“I mean… I sort of want to find this killer just to buy them dinner or at least a coffee. Is that awful?”

“No. I feel the same way. So far, all of his victims have been terrible men,” Agatha said as the two of them trudged up the hill towards the grey cube that stood in the distance, “It makes me wonder if we’re dealing with a killer who has a moral code of their own. Or someone who’s been abused by men in the past.”

“Lilia didn’t tell you much about the crime scene, did she?” Jenn asked as they pulled their masks over their noses and mouths.

“What do you mean?” Agatha asked.

She opened the door to the reactor control room. It was painted a mint green and filled with grey desks that curved into the center of the room. Along the walls were control panels that bent into an “L” shape halfway down. The bottom half of the panels were resting atop cabinets almost like a slanted kitchen counter that bordered the entire room.

Each panel held switches and dials. On the walls were small circular dials that looked almost like compasses. The red needles within rested on zero. What was once a hub of vital decision making and monitoring was now a rotting relic.

Agatha’s eyes scanned the space before seeing the body bound to a steel chair. The head was slumped forward and the wrists were raw from fighting against restraints.

“She’s a woman.”

Agatha walked closer to the body. The woman was in her late fifties. She was blonde with a once pale face having now turned a slight shade of grey. There were empty plastic gallon containers for water strewn about. Her lips were blue and her face looked swollen. Based on the bucket nearby, it was clear she had gotten sick multiple times while going through whatever preceded her death.

“What the hell did he do to her?” Jenn muttered.

“We don’t know it’s a he,” Agatha corrected in a distracted mumble, her eyes not leaving the haunting scene before them.

“Fair,” Jenn said, “I mean… the flowers are a good tell.”

“And the thought put into each kill.”

“Male killers can also be fastidious planners.”

“I guess, but there is a reason women get away with murder more than men. There is some serious emotional control up until the moment of the killing,” Agatha said, “Like they wait until the actual kill to release every bit of emotion before going cold again.”

Jenn looked over at her, her head tilting slightly. She could feel Jenn dissecting her. Agatha shrugged and rubbed the back of her neck.

“I don’t know. Just a theory,” she said.

“Sure…”

“So… do we know how she died?” Agatha asked as she stepped closer to the bound corpse, noticing the ragged marks around the rope tying her wrists and ankles.

“There’s no blood. No weapon.”

“Just water,” Agatha said, kneeling down to look at one of the unlabeled water jugs.

“Oh shit…” Jenn whispered.

“What?”

Jenn waved her over and pointed at one of the plastic jugs that had a word scrawled in dark blue Sharpie.

“Mason. The town.” Jenn said.

“Why does that sound familiar-“

“Agatha,” Jenn chided, “That town’s been on the news for a year.”

“I watch Netflix, not the news.”

“Really?” Jenn asked sardonically.

“Oh, like you don’t tune out after a day on the job.”

“Fine, whatever. As I was saying, they’ve been on the news because of a water crisis.”

“There was a lawsuit, right?” Agatha asked as her mind combed through vague snippets of overheard small talk.

“More than just one. This company had been polluting their drinking water for years without anyone knowing until it got seriously dangerous.”

“Did people die?”

“Twelve and counting. There’s also no telling if others in the area will end up with cancer down the line.”

“What was the company?”

“Meridian Pharmaceuticals. According to the officers who came on the scene earlier, this is Vivian Brook. The CEO of Meridian.”

“Someone is definitely making a statement here,” Agatha said.

“Laura, how was she killed?” Jenn asked the medical examiner.

The twenty something woman stood up from her crouched stance while looking at the corpse’s extremities.

“Dry drowning,” Laura said, her eyes moving over the woman’s bloated, discolored face.

“Drowning? As in, force fed water?” Jenn asked.

“Yep. I’ve never seen a case up close before,” the young woman said, bending down to look closer at the dead woman’s visage, “It really is fascinating.”

Jenn cringed slightly at Laura’s blatant curiosity before looking back at the woman.

“How long would it take to do that?” Agatha asked.

“From hours to days. Most likely hours with the quality of the water. It dilutes the blood and can confusion and central nerve dysfunction in the early stages.”

“And the later stages?” Jenn asked.

“Seizures, brain damage, and death. It’s incredibly rare for it to happen by accident, but I’ve never heard of it being used to kill someone else.”

“How would someone even do that?” Jenn asked, “I mean, logistically?”

Agatha looked down at the chair the woman was slumped over in. Her skin was cut from twine.

“They tied her down. Emptied jug after jug of water down her throat. Probably held her back by the hair,” Agatha said.

“I think I found the culprit,” Laura said, using her pen to lift a circular plastic ring, “She used this to hold her mouth open.”

“Is that the things dentists use?” Jenn asked.

“It probably made it much easier for the killer to make her drink. I’ll let you ladies know when I figure out anything new. This body has a lot more to tell,” Laura said, a little too happily.

“What about the flowers?” Agatha asked.

“Sorry?” Laura asked.

“There were flowers at every other scene for this killer,” Jenn answered, “Usually embedded somewhere in the body. Like.. in the wounds sometimes.”

“Well, there aren’t any wounds to put any in.”

“Check her mouth,” Agatha said.

Laura used a gloved hand to open her mouth. Jenn looked away. Though she was a seasoned agent, she avoided looking at gore when she was able to. Agatha had no such qualms, looking just as closely as Laura did as the tweezers dipped into Vivian Brook’s mouth. Laura narrowed her eyes at what she found. She pinched it and pulled it up, revealing a slightly crushed sphere of tiny white flowers. Jenn had looked back, seeing the plant.

“Water hemlock,” she said.

“What?” Agatha asked.

“Water hemlock. It’s a poisonous water flower.”

“How did you know that off the top of your head?” Agatha asked.

“I like botany, okay?” Jenn mumbled.

Agatha stood up, thinking to herself.

“Let’s go,” she said.

Jenn followed her out, grateful to get out of the radioactive area. Once they reached a safe distance, they stripped out of their hazmat suits.

Agatha smirked and said, “Maybe you do serve a purpose for this case.”

“Thanks a lot,” Jenn said with a roll of her eyes.

“No, I’m serious.”

“Thank… you?” Jenn said, tilting her head.

“I didn’t even consider the meanings of the flowers chosen for each murder.”

“Well, I can look at the other flowers to see if there are more connections,” Jenn said, “Maybe there are other aspects to the flowers that the unsub used to make their message.”

“They definitely have a lot to say.”

—————————————————————

Agatha pulled up to Wanda’s house later that night. She took the bottle of wine she picked up on the way down from Vermont and carried it with her. She walked across the lawn, forgoing the stone path from the driveway entirely. She knocked at the door, jumping as it was instantly opened by Wanda. Her delicate features were at a sort of ease that Agatha hasn’t seen in years. She smiled as her friend threw her arms around her in a tight hug.

“Geez, you’re acting like you haven’t seen me in years.”

“That’s what it feels like. We can’t go that long again. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Agatha said.

She looked over at a gorgeous woman walking out of the kitchen. Her red hair matched Wanda’s, though she looked different in every other respect. Her features were more prominent. Her eyes were bigger, her lips fuller. Agatha had to remind herself that this woman was already taken by Wanda. She reached out, taking her hand and shaking it.

“Agatha.”

“Natasha. Wanda has told me so much about you.”

“Uh oh. How much?” Agatha asked.

“She wouldn’t shut up about you. It had me worried, to be honest,” Natasha said with a playful smirk.

“No need. We already got that out of our systems in college,” Agatha said.

“Oh?” Natasha said with raised eyebrows, looking at Wanda.

Agatha felt the tension tighten the air as Wanda’s eyes widened. Natasha looked back at Agatha.

“She didn’t tell me that.”

“There’s really not much to tell,” Agatha said, desperately trying to salvage the relaxed mood from before, “We dated for a handful of months before realizing we were better off as friends.”

A few beats passed before the other woman arched a brow.

“The lesbian dating to friend pipeline,” Natasha said with a smile, eliciting a sigh of relief from Wanda and Agatha.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before. It’s so far in the past for us,” Wanda said.

“It’s alright. We all have friends that started out as something else.”

“Right… wait, we do?” Wanda asked as if she didn’t just admit to the very same thing.

Natasha’s hand rested on Wanda’s.

“I’ll tell you all about them later,” she said.

“Them as in nonbinary or them as in multiple exes who you’re friends with?” Wanda asked.

“I mean, you can’t say much about it now,” Agatha said, earning a dirty look from Wanda.

Dinner passed without further incident. Natasha told Agatha about her work at a defense contractor while Agatha chatted about the FBI. The two of them seemed to have more in common than Agatha had expected. Perhaps Wanda had a type.

She watched how easy Wanda breathed around Natasha, how comfortable they seemed with one another. The other woman always had a comforting touch whenever Wanda seemed to tense or worry herself. She seemed to be perfectly matched with the sweet mess of nerves that was Wanda Maximoff.

Once the night wound down, Agatha could feel her eyelids growing heavy from the long day behind her.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” she said, hugging her friend.

She turned to Natasha, saying, “It was wonderful to meet you.”

“Likewise. Wanda was right about you. You’re a fascinating person.”

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Wanda said.

Once they reached her car, Agatha turned to her.

“Okay, I like her.”

Wanda lit up, happier than anything that her best friend and girlfriend got along. Given how rightfully harsh Agatha had been on her exes, she was relieved to have someone who successfully earned her approval. She hugged her again before wishing her good luck on her own date.

————————————————————

Agatha groaned as she tossed her way through her closet. It had been far too long since she had been out with someone and she wasn’t sure what she owned that would actually fit the occasion.

She pulled on a dark green dress that hugged her figure. It was something she wouldn’t normally feel comfortable in. She was so used to throwing on jeans and a top that anything fancier than that felt foreign to her. She checked herself in the mirror, sighing as she felt doubt creeping in.

“That looks beautiful!” Wanda yelled from the propped up phone.

“Are you sure?” Agatha asked, looking back at her through FaceTime.

“Positive. You look gorgeous in that.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll wear this one.”

She did her makeup, keeping it understated save for a bold red lip. Her brown, wavy hair fell down her back, sweeping against the small of it. A wolf whistle came from her phone. She let out a snort while laughing at Wanda. Her bell rang and she looked like a startled cat.

“Hey, you are going to be fine. She already likes you. Just have fun,” Wanda said.

“I’ll try.”

—————————————————————

Agatha opened her door to find Alison wearing slacks and a dinner jacket with a silk top underneath. Agatha forgot how to breathe at the sight of a beautiful woman in a suit. She shook her head a moment before saying, “Hi… you look…”

“Thanks,” Alison said with a laugh, “You look… too.”

“Um.. so, where are we going?”

“This new place in Agawam. Vincetti’s. I haven’t been, but it’s supposed to be great.”

“I’m always up for Italian,” Agatha said.

“We’ve definitely earned the carbs from all of the gym time we’ve been putting in.”

“Definitely,” she said, “Lead the way.”

—————————————————————

The anxiety she had from before seemed to melt away beneath the dim light of the restaurant. The two of them talked and joked the way they did at the gym, effortlessly picking up their dynamic again. The wine loosened her up enough to relax, even when Alison showed her glimpses of physical affection. A touch to her arm, holding her hand gently atop the table, leaning over to brush a lock of hair out of her face.

“So, any top secret FBI business you can divulge?” Alison asked with a playful air.

“To the enemy? Nothing.”

“Oh, come on!”

“I would rather not have a group of protesters at my next crime scene, no matter how cute the protester is.”

“I would never!” Alison said before correcting herself, “I would never do that to you. Come onnn. I know there’s something interesting going on if you’ve been skipping your workouts this week.”

“You don’t want to know the grisly details, even if I could talk about them.”

“Are you kidding? I live for morbid details. I bet it’s a serial killer. Am I right? I bet I’m right,” she said.

Agatha hesitated, clearly giving away that Alison had guessed correctly.

“I really can’t. All I can say is that it’s one of the most interesting cases I’ve worked in a while.”

“Okay, you can’t tease me like that without delivering,” she said, her eyes darkening.

Agatha felt a soft blush burning her cheeks. She took a sip of her wine before speaking.

“It’s a very intelligent and impressive criminal. I can’t go more into depth than that.”

“Oooh. Sounds like I have competition by the way you talk about her,” she said.

Agatha’s smile disappeared at the statement. A more manufactured one took its place.

“I never said they were a she.”

“I mean, intelligence with the ability to get away with stuff seems more feminine than not,” Alison said with a shrug, “Sorry. I’m a bit of a true crime junkie and I forget to be tactful about it with people who work in it.”

“It’s okay. And we don’t know the killer’s gender yet,” Agatha said.

“So it IS a serial killer.”

“Shit.”

—————————————————————

Once they were at Agatha’s place, she sat in Alison’s car. They were talking, Alison’s hand on her knee. Alison was cracking up at a story Agatha told about making a TA cry.

“That’s so awful!” Alison laughed.

“He deserved it! He was up his own ass and barely understood the material in that class. I’m sure he healed from being chewed out. He’s a big boy.”

“Well, I bet he never messed with a student after that,” she said.

“He was definitely less condescending to the women there after that.”

“I guess it’s not surprising that you’ve always been a badass,” Alison said.

“That’s one word for it. Other people have been a lot less flattering with how they describe me.”

“Other people are weak. They get intimidated easily.”

Agatha looked at the other woman, her eyes resting on her lips. Alison stopped speaking as a loaded silence fell between them. The question of who would move first hung in the air.

Before she could overthink it, Agatha dove in first to capture her lips. She combed her fingers through Alison’s dark hair as the other woman hummed into the kiss. She pulled it gently as it deepened, coaxing a moan from Alison.

As their kiss grew more frantic, Alison suddenly ended up straddling Agatha in the passenger’s seat. Agatha reached up, undoing her jacket and sliding her hand down her chest.

“I normally have a rule…” Agatha breathed, “To not invite anyone inside on the first date.”

“Good thing we’re not inside, then,” Alison whispered back, kissing her again.

Agatha smiled as she pulled Alison’s shirt from her pants, skimming her fingers over her bare skin beneath the fabric. Alison reached down, sliding a hand up her inner thigh, the dress gathered up around her hips.

Fumbling hands undid Alison’s pants followed by Agatha’s hand sliding inside. Alison let out a moan as she felt her fingers grinding over her. Her own hand reached the apex of Agatha’s thighs, pushing her panties to the side and pushing two fingers into her. Agatha gasped sharply, her back arching.

The two of them moved in tandem, their breathing filling the silence. Agatha looked up into her eyes as she felt pleasure winding itself into a coil within her. Alison bit her lip to silence herself as she shuddered. The sight of her in that moment pushed Agatha over the edge. She squeezed her eyes shut as that coil snapped within her, sending her into a spiral of ecstasy.

The two of them caught their breath, panting and letting out soft, broken laughs at their own messy state. Alison gazed down at her before leaning down, kissing her once more before moving back into the driver’s seat. The two panted, smiling goofily at each other.

“So… did I earn a second date?” Alison asked.

—————————————————————

Agatha felt like she was floating for the next few days. Alison and she texted like a couple of teenagers. It seemed that whenever she had a chance, she was sending something to her.

She finally returned to the gym that Monday, bringing a glow with her that had stuck with her since their date. She looked around the largely empty place for her before getting a text.

Ali: Meet me in the sauna 😈

A smile broke out across her lips. She rushed to the locker room, changing into a towel in record time. Walking into the narrow hallway, she found an abandoned towel mere steps from the sauna. She looked up at the window on the door and felt her heart stop.

There was a crimson stain smeared across the glass.

She held her breath as she opened the door. Steam poured out, revealing the sight of Alison covered in blood. Her eyes were open and lifeless. Red handprints and streaks painted the sauna. The blood streamed down with the precipitation caused by the humidity. Her body was riddled with stab wounds.

In her hands was a rose, the thorns biting into her palms. Agatha stumbled back, slipping on the wet floor. She hit the floor, the impact radiating through her. She let out a scream as the horror of it all set in.

Her screen lit up with one last text.

“Alice left for Wonderland.”