#FUCKING USE THE RIGHT GODS DAMNED WORD!!!

[murdockcastleslut]

meddle about

an outerbanks band au! | a jj maybank and rafe cameron smau

synopsis: after competing and winning the battle of the bands, the sirens were offered a record deal, launching them into stardom. when they are about to go on their first world tour, the band is faced with the decision of who they will open for them. they choose the swell, their runner-up in the battle of bands two years prior. with a rocky past with some members of the swell, y/n, the leader singer of the sirens, must tread carefully not cause anymore problems during this choatic tour.

intros | prologue | part one

tw: mentions of depression, anxiety, adhd, addiction, child abuse (emotionally and mentally), alcohol, weed, cocaine, homophobia, and sex.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: finals week kicked my ass but we slay and i put out a new chapter of something finally

thursday, august 15th, 2024

You took one last puff from your cigarette before throwing it down to the ground and smothering it with your sneaker. You let out a loud sigh before grabbing the handle of the door and walking back into the first stop of The Lie to Girls Tour. 

As you walk in you notice how the venue has come to life with roadies sending everything up for later that night. You start walking towards your dressing room when someone calls out your name. 

You turn my head and see Ward Cameron making a B-line for me. You roll my eyes and stop in front of him. 

“What do you want, Ward?” You ask the manager of The Swell and Sarah’s father. 

He gives you a sneer and folds his arms to assert dominance over you. 

“Where is Sarah?” He asks with a stern look on his face. 

I let out a chuckle. 

“I don’t know where she is, Ward, but I can be damn sure she doesn’t wanna talk to you.” You say before walking away from the older man. 

You walk towards your dressing room and look around yourself diligently hoping you don’t see him. You make it to your dressing room and open the door to see Sarah getting her hair done by the band’s hair stylist, Aubree, and Cleo getting her make-up done by the band’s make-up artist, Kimora. You walk in, letting the door close behind you, and go straight for the couch that Kie is sitting on and lay your head on her lap.

“Your dad’s a dick, Sarah,” I say with my eyes closed enjoying the atmosphere of the room. Kite lets out a muted snort. 

“I know he is, but what did he do now?” She asks, twisting to look behind her at you on the couch. 

“Nothin, just asked where you were. But I guess he didn’t even bother to look because anyone else could have told him that you were here.” 

“Did you tell him where I was ?”

“Fuck no, that would mean I would have to spend five minutes walking with him here. I would rather spend the night in whatever torture chamber Satan's got prepared for that man.” 

The whole room laughs but you. You weren’t joking, you were serious. 

“How’d you even bump into him girlie?” Cleo asks? 

“Went for a smoke out on the side.” You reply nonchalantly. 

Everyone in the room this time groans. 

“I don’t like this judgment I’m getting from everyone. I hardly smoke cigs anymore! We are Texas and I’m not tryna get arrested before we have even gotten on stage.” I defend. 

“I guess that’s acceptable,” Kie says, tapping your nose. 

You scrunch your face at her. 

“So how are you girls feeling? The first night of your basically sold-out tour.” Aubree asks as she finishes the final curls on Sarah’s hair. 

“So excited, man. I have a good feeling about tonight.” Cleo smiles. 

“Oh my god, knock on wood right now, Cleo! You’re gonna jinx us!” You exclaim sitting up from Kie’s lap. 

“I don't think it’s…”

“I swear to god, you better knock.” 

Cleo doesn’t say anything but rolls her eyes and knocks on the ledge of the vanity in front of her. 

Kie looks at you and sighs. 

“Babe I mean this in the nicest way possible, did you take your meds today?” She questions. 

“Yes, I did.” You roll your eyes at her question. 

“So excited and nervous.” Aubree takes it away. 

“She’s just nervous about interacting with JJ.” Sarah spills.

“What the fuck! No, I am not! I could care less what the dipshit thinks.” You refute. 

Just as you finish, the band stylist, Jess, walks into the dressing room holding everyone’s outfit. 

“So you didn’t text me saying you literally have to look sexier than sexy this whole tour to show JJ he’s an idiot.” Jess chimes in.

You let out a loud groan. 

“Damn it, Jess. You just fucked my whole I don’t care vibe.” You whine. 

Everyone lets out a chuckle at your reaction. 

“Well, I’ll have you know that the outfit I picked up is killer.” Jess smiles. 

“Lemme see!” You sit up excited like a child at Christmas. 

She puts all the outfits on the rack and pulls out yours. 

Everyone in the room, oohs and ahhs. 

“Oh Jess, you are a magic baby!” You laugh. 

She smiles and shakes her head and walks over to you to give you the hanger. 

“Get changed, I wanna see how it looks on you.” She demands. 

“Yes, ma’am.” You smile and get up off the couch. You go behind the divider and get undressed and put on the outfit that she had chosen for you. 

You get changed into a faux leather corset and a black faux leather skirt. 

When you step out from behind the divider, everyone in the room whoops and whistles. 

“Get in my chair now,” Aubree exclaims. “I have the best idea.” 

You giggle and nod excited to see what she had in store for your hair. As Aubree works on your hair, Kimora starts on your make-up. 

The room is filled with laughter, music, and singing. Aubree is done with your hair pulled into a slick back 90’s spiky bun when there’s a knock on the door. She gives your hair one more spritz of hairspray before going to grab the door. 

When she opens the door, the once loud and obvious room is now dead silent. JJ Maybank is standing in front of the door. 

He looks around uneasily and then looks at you. He is in awe of the way you look. 

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Aubree sneers at him in an unkind tone. 

“Uh-uh i-uh..” He keeps staring at you. 

“Yo pervert, either say something or get out.” Kimora scolds him.

“Yeah- uh sorry,” he keeps his eyes on you. “Ward sent me to get you, says Minerva is looking for you.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. What the fuck? You think to yourself. 

“Anything else?” Kimora questions, their tone suggesting he’d leave. 

“He said I had to walk you there…” He hesitates. 

“She’ll be out in a minute.” She says before shutting the door in his face.

You turn to the other girls with your eyes widened in confusion. They all shrug at you not knowing what is going on. You look at Sarah and mouth Your dad’s a dick. She sighs heavily and nods. 

You look around the floor and put on your Doc Martens. 

“Fucking bastard.” You mumble to yourself about Ward before opening the door. 

You look at JJ with a sneer and wait for him to lead you to Minnie. 

“So uh- I’m…” He stutters out and you cut him off with a glare. 

The rest of the way to Minnie was silent. He did not try to utter another word to you. 

When you find her, she is surrounded by roadies asking her questions about the final touches on the venue. 

When she sees you and JJ together she gives you a strained smile. She knows that this is not a situation you want to be in. 

“Thank you, Jackson. You can leave us.” She says coldly and wraps her arm around your shoulder. You giggle when she calls him his legal name and wrap your arm around her waist. 

“You look like a good kid, everyone did you up real pretty.” She smiles down at you. 

“They did, this team might be my favorite.” You smile up at her. 

“Good, good…” She says as the two of you walk. “I gotta ask you a favor and I know you don’t wanna do it but Ward Cameron is up my ass and if I know if we make a fuss, which I want to, things will get leaked to the press and none of you kids need that right now.” 

“What do you need, Minnie?” You furrow your brow. 

“I need you, specifically, to sing a song with one of the members of The Swell. Ward wants it to be JJ for publicity to say there is no bad blood between the two of you, but he can kiss my ass. That is up to you to forgive him and only you, hun.” 

“Jesus Min, this man is gonna be a pain in our asses all tour isn’t he?”

Minnie nods and that is all you need to know that it is going to be a long tour. 

“Alright, I’ll do it. And I’m choosing the song.” You say. 

“Sounds good to me. Break a leg, you’re gonna kill out there.” She offers a kind smile before reaching five steps away from you and she is surrounded by people who need to ask her questions. 

You turn around and go back towards the dressing rooms. You look around looking for the name you need. You go up to the door and knock. 

The door opens and you have a smirk up at him. 

“How would you like to piss off your dad tonight.” You ask. 

He doesn’t respond with words but instead, a sly smirk spreads across his face and he opens the door wider so that you can step inside. 

—

The crowd was electric tonight. Even though most of The Swell’s songs were unknown to the crowd, they enjoyed it very much and it definitely helped that all the members were attractive. 

You stand backstage getting mixed up as you watch from the sidelines. As the last song comes to an end JJ goes up to the middle mic. 

“How’d y’all like that one?” He asks the crowd. They cheer and scream to show their enthusiasm. 

“Good, good,” He chuckles into the mic. “Now I’m gonna hand this over to Rafe.” 

Rafe is up from his drum set and someone is already taking his place. He runs up and daps up JJ before taking his place in front of the mic. 

“Now, if you’re a fan of The Swell, you’ll know I don’t sing up in the front often but I wanted to treat y’all for the first show. And as for something extra special, I have a guest. But your hands together for Y/N L/N of The Sirens, everybody!” He exclaims. 

The crowd goes while as your name is said and you step out on the stage. You give the band members a wave except JJ and head on over to Rafe. 

“Hey, everyone, are these guys treating you well?” You ask into the mic. The crowd cheers in response. You smile seeing everyone enjoying themselves. 

“I'm glad, so I have a question,” You look at the crowd. “Do y’all know Perfect by One Direction?” 

The crowd erupts in total chaos. 

“Seems like they know it, pretty girl.” Rafe flirts. You give him a smirk and move in closer. 

“Seems like it, so y’all are gonna sing along with us?” The crowd erupts once again in cheers. “Alright let’s do it.” You smile at the crowd. 

The music starts playing and you sway your body to the music coming from your ears. Rafe brings the mic to his lips and winks at you before he sings. 

“I might never be your knight in shining' armor, I might never be the home you take home to Mother,” He sings to the audience. “And I might never be the one who brings you flowers,” He turns to you while pointing at himself and sings “I can be the one, be the one tonight.” 

The crowd screams loving the chemistry the two of you are displaying 

“ When I first saw you from across the room I could tell that you were curious,” You sing, looking up at him and checking him out. 

“Oh, yeah,” The whole band harmonizes with you. 

“Boy, I hope you’re sure what you’re looking for ‘cause I’m not good at making promises” You riff. 

You and the whole band sing the chorus. But as you sing your eyes are locked on Rafe and his eyes are locked with yours. 

When everyone gets to the line, “If you like to do the things we shouldn’t do,” you and Rafe are close. He has one hand on the mic and the other on your waist. You have two arms around his shoulders sharing the mic he was sharing. His gaze is locked with yours not daring to look away. 

For the rest of the song the two of you are never less than a foot apart and when you are close one of you is touching the other. It was like you were the only people on stage even though you were performing in front of thousands.

Although you never looked away from the audience or Rafe, the one thing you could feel was JJ’s burning jealous gaze on your back. 

after the concert...

taglist: @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 @arkofblake @eddsthemunson @zyafics @papercranesandinkstains @jjslaybank @isnt-itstrange @ayy1234567 @upsidedownjill @mads-writes-vibes @shincidios @hittmeandtellmeyouremine @mattslutiolo @xoxo-ada @mariamsdison6-blog @eternallovers65 @smootbrainchicken @starsval @writer-who-rarely-writes @whorelaud @ame1le @me-ig1 @marleymarleymarleymarley @cassiewritessalot @everinlove @robinsgrl

[elliee3e]

‘pretty when you cry’

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‘old’ logan howlett x crybaby f! reader

‘don’t say you need me if, you live last, you're leaving —

i can't do it, but you do it best

‘cause i’m pretty when i cry’ — pretty when you cry - lana del rey

summary ;

basically just old man logan & his lil crybaby girl<3

content warnings ;

light ddlg if you squint, piv, size difference, age play/younger & smaller reader implied, corruption kink, oral sex (f receiving), slight overstimulation

old man logan, who both loves and hates having his sweet girl crumble in his arms.

by now, he feels like the only thing he’s good for is ruining. killing. tainting. that’s what he did with you, tainted your damn innocence. and now he hates how big he is compared to you, hates how he always feels like he has to hold back in fear of hurting you, hates how he tries to be gentle with you because you always end up crying in his arms no matter what.

he could be between your spread thighs, scruff brushing against your inner thighs as his tongue works against your heated core, sucking onto your clit whilst you completely crumble — thighs squeezing and trembling around his head, sniffles, whimpers and broken moans leaving your parted lips, tears starting to drip down your cheeks as you pant, the sight making logan pull away as he looks up at you from his glasses, that by now had slipped to the bridge of his nose that you always so badly wanted to kiss.

“baby, baby— hey, look at me darlin’..” he would croon, your sweet taste still clinging onto his tongue as he shifted up to grab your face, watching your pretty glazed eyes full of tears for him: looking up at him. “l-lo..” you would sniffle, voice no more than a broken whimper and it tugged at his heart.

“did i do something wrong? was it too much?” his gruff voice, laced with worry — asked. and god, yes, it was too much: but in the best way possible. you just didn’t know how to explain that you couldn’t help the tears that would take over you when something felt too good.

“n-nothing wrong, lo— just.. just a lot..” you would huff, stomach fluttering as logan would sigh at your words: bringing up a rough thumb to swipe your salty tears away: the other gently tugging your panties back up. “damn it, darlin’. givin’ me a damn heart attack everytime you sob like that, makes me feel like i hurt ya.”

“c’mon. let’s just lay together for a while. probably be better for ya, sweet thing.”

old man logan, who, after a while, would begin to understand that his girl just couldn’t help her pretty tears and sobs. it was a part of her that only he got to see after all, and that’s what made it special.

he began to love having that power over you. loved having the ability to be fucking into you, pretty legs wrapped around his hips perfectly, nails scratching along his shoulders and back where you could reach, your desperate moans mingled with choked sobs ricocheting off the apartment walls — your nails leaving cat like scratches that started to heal in a short while as they weren’t deep wounds — but they still made him groan. one of his hands, the one not on your waist to keep a steady grip on you, moving up to grab your small wrist to stop you; his hand wrapping around it no problem. “easy, baby. i’m tryna be gentle here, but you’re really pushin’ it.” he would grunt, bringing your wrist down up next to your head, easily using that for leverage to keep on his slow and deep pace into you.

“gosh, darlin’, don’t go cryin’ for me right now..” he would groan, watching as you sobbed even more, trying to slow his pace more than it already was to scoop you up into his arms, keeping your smaller body cradled in them as he soothed your sobs with gentle ‘shh’s’ — hips still fucking into yours at a steady pace, just enough to have you trembling under him and for your cries to choke up in your throat with pretty moans, a familiar heat starting to build up in your lower tummy as it made your walls flutter around his thick cock. “uh— mmph, gonna.. gonna cum, lo—“ you would whimper, small hands squirming under his bigger ones, his grip only getting tighter on your soft wrists.

“that right? my baby’s gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock like the sweet girl she is?” logan would grunt, using the best of his force to fuck into you just enough to find your little gummy spot, the one that sent shivers through your small body and made you let out a sob that broke off into a moan as you felt your orgasm quickly take over — hips trembling under his, sweet pussy squeezing around his cock as much as it could as your juices leaked onto him.

“fuck, doll.” he would huff, glancing down and pulling out just enough to see your pretty pussy — flushed and dripping for him, your sniffled cries filling the room once more as you tried to recover.

“gonna be a good girl and finish me off now too?”

[gtgbabie0]

{Sevika is a little more sensitive then she lets on and you just love to tease her}

Idk tying her up and eating her out ig?

!!-18//MDNI-!! My Masterlist is here <3

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

Sevika was the more dominant one in the relationship, she loved to take control and give— to listen to your breaths become all shaky and to watch your pupils dilate with pure wanton desire because of her because she knew your body like the back of her damn hand, it made her feel a sense of pride, the type she could high on.

And you obviously didn’t complain, not when she was so incredibly attentive to every inch of your body in ways no other person was. In all honesty, you couldn’t even form words to say anything other than her name… over and over and over again.

Your mind would be too focused on the feeling of her strap slowly fucking into your wet cunt, from tip to base, the thickness stretching you out. It was always so mind-numbing, intense— the way her thumbs pushed into the fat of your inner thighs to keep them flushed against the mattress as she thrusts her hips, the bedsheets absolutely soaked.

Sevika got off on watching the way your greedy pussy practically swallowed her cock back in, squelching and gripping around the toy and she swears to death she could feel it. She “fucks you how you deserve” and it never fails to make you see stars— whether it was her fingers, tongue her strap.

And yeah the power trip was pretty dizzying but sometimes Sevika just loved to let her guard down and let you take the reins. I mean a girl likes to be wined and dined… and eaten out every so often, right?

She just wasn’t used to all this pampering you showered her with, it was a foreign concept one that she thought she didn’t really deserve— then you go and prove her wrong with that adoring glint in your eyes and a gentle hand against her cheek. “No baby, you deserve all of it. let me love you.” The words are whispered so gently that it makes her chest flutter and suddenly she doesn’t feel like a big tough criminal, no, just a woman madly, madly in love.

And god did you make her feel like the only woman in the world when you kiss your way down her body, hands caressing over the curves over her body, shedding her clothes until you’ve got your pretty face in between her thick thighs— making her head spin as pleasure takes over every thought that plagues her overworked mind.

“Your mouth is fuckin’ sin, baby.” She practically whines, all breathless, hips writhing against the bed— she can’t touch you, because somehow you’ve managed to convince her to let you tie her up with those red ropes… it was killing her but fuck if she didn’t look absolutely stunning.

You moan against her soaked cunt in acknowledgement, spreading her folds open with your tongue as you slowly lick along her labia and up to her clit, which you pepper with slow opened-mouth kisses— her hips bucking up into your mouth, desperate for more.

“Sev… don’t make me tie your hips down too.” You tut, pulling away to look up at her with a small frown— which causes her to whimper in disappointment—your lips and chin glistening with her desire.

The sound of her frustrated huffs puts a smirk on your face, watching as her head falls back against the pillows with a groan as you press your face back into her wet heat.

Her wrists, both metal and flesh, were bound against the headboard by the rough fabric that was far more durable than they looked— she’s tried to free herself multiple times, to bury her fingers in your hair and fuck your face but it was useless, she was at your mercy and in all honesty she loved it.

“Fucking hell— please baby, please” She pleads, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as you press your tongue flat against her clit, licking at her in a way that makes her body twitch.

It wasn’t like you’d been teasing her for hours, you literally not long slipped her boxers off and yet she was acting like you’d been edging her for the last five hours… and you absolutely loved it, knowing that the only thing on her mind was you and your mouth.

“Mm… you want my fingers, yeah?” You coo softly, looking up at her through your eyelashes to gauge her reaction as you continue to lick at her clit.

God she did, all she could get out was a messy string of “Fuck, yeah baby, please.” blabbering on and on, all whiny and desperate— it was a sight to see, the Sevika the most feared woman in Zaun in all her glory spread out on your bed, tied up, whining and moaning just for you.

Then you’re plunging your middle and ring fingers into her slick cunt, thrusting them in tandem with your tongue on her clit— your free hand rubbing over her thigh and along the shape of her writhing hips. The way she moans out your name shoots a tingle down your spine, a familiar throb of need between your legs has you grinding down against the mattress needily.

Sevika is so sensitive, it doesn’t take you much to turn her on and right now she’s soaking your hand— her walls clenching around your digits as she struggles against the ropes binding her wrists, head thrown back against the pillows, arching into you, practically panting.

“So beautiful Sev with my fingers stuffed in your pussy, so greedy.” You smirk against her, adding your index into her just to prove your point, stretching her out, and the rough, broken moan that escapes her parted lips causes a surge of pride to buzz through your chest.

“Don’t hold back baby, you deserve it.” Whispered hotly against her clit as she follows the slow and meticulous curl of your fingers— practically grinding her pussy against your mouth until she’s gushing around your three fingers, drenching your palm whilst your tongue works against her clit.

You work her through it until she’s lying boneless against the pillows with laboured breaths— completely and utterly spent, shuddering slightly as you pull your digits out.

Sevika watches you press a kiss to her inner thigh, then another to her hip— her eyes never leaving you as you kiss your way back up along her body, straddling her lower abdomen as you lick your fingers clean and she can feel how drenched your panties have become, that gets to her and suddenly she's turned on all again.

“Feeling good?” You ask with such sweetness in your tone as if you hadn't just fingered her, leaning over slightly to undo the ropes around her wrists— she chuckles hoarsely in response.

Her hands immediately grasp your hips, feeling up the curves of your soft body greedily— the roughness of her palm sets a blaze to your skin which is cooled down by the metal of her other, all of it makes your spine tingle with need. “Mm, your turn baby.” She smirks, fingers curling around your jaw as she pulls you down against her, your chest pressed to her own. Her heart flutters at the giggle you let out, sweet like honey as she kisses you sloppily, tasting herself on your lips, before pushing you back against the mattress ready to return the favour tenfold…

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

[gingerteafairy]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐞 (𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

A small session of Dean spoiling you like a princess (and evolving a little scent kink)

tags: fluff, scent kink, f!reader, est. relationship, tickles bc he's a tease, praises. word count: 744.

The door creaks open with the turn of the key, letting you into the familiar comfort of home. The couch, a bit saggy from so many nights spent lounging there, welcomes you. The smell of sweat from a long day sticks around, and the scratchy fabric of your work uniform feels like it’s suffocating you. But you’re so drained, you figure you’ll just stay put for now. Until you remember.

Dean was gonna meet you here right after work. That gives you exactly 10 minutes to get ready, and you know how he is—always on time when it comes to you.

You rush to the bathroom, jumping into a quick shower. Deodorant, a basic T-shirt, and some comfy pajama shorts. The bare minimum to open the door and see your hot boyfriend standing there with that smile that could make anything seem perfect.

"Italian.” he grins, stepping inside and holding up a bag that smells amazing.

Then, you catch that woody, herbal scent of whatever’s in the bag mixed with the mouthwatering pasta. Oh no. You totally forgot to put on perfume.

"Oh, thanks, honey." You flash him a weak smile and kiss his cheek. "I haven’t eaten in, like, six hours."

"I know you too well," he shakes his head, putting the bag on the table. "Knew you'd be so wrapped up in work you’d forget to eat." He adds, "So I brought you your favorite juice, and I even got you that cupcake from Heavenpiece for dessert."

"Oh, Dean. I don’t deserve you." You pout, lazily wrapping your arms around his neck, getting lost in those green eyes that always do it for you.

"You deserve way more than this, doll." He smiles sweetly and pecks your lips.

"You spoil me so much... I’m gonna get so used to this," you laugh, feeling a hundred little kisses rain down on your face until he rests his head on your neck.

"You can get spoiled all you want... Hold up, what is that smell?" He pulls back, his eyes wide as he sniffs the air like he’s just smelled something amazing. You freeze, feeling him sniffing your neck like a bloodhound.

"Sorry, I didn’t put on perfume. I probably smell weird, I—"

"Weird?" He cuts you off, looking at you like you just said the dumbest thing. He buries his nose in your neck again, inhaling deeply. "That’s the best smell I’ve ever breathed in. That’s your smell."

"Oh, come on. It’s probably just the new soap," you roll your eyes, trying to hide the flush on your cheeks from his compliments.

"Nope." He shakes his head, grinning as he takes another deep breath. "That’s the smell of a woman."

"God, you’re so weird," you chuckle, but then he starts sniffing short, fast breaths, making you squirm and giggle. "Dean, stop. Stop! Deaaann."

"Nope. I’m memorizing this smell." He chuckled, his fingers skimming under your shirt to tickle you, making you laugh even harder. "It’s so, so fucking good. You've been hiding it from me. You're a very bad girl, you hear me? Get your punishment, pretty baby."

"Deaaan, stop!" You laugh, grabbing his hands to pull them away and locking your fingers with his. “Finally!”

"Alright, alright. But only if you let me sniff you all night. Deal?" He grins, and how can you say no to that face?

"Deal. Just for the record, you smell pretty damn good. New perfume?" You ask, leaning in to sniff him, smiling when you feel him shiver.

"It’s the one you gave me for Valentine’s Day," he says, wrapping his strong hand around the back of your neck, pulling you closer. "But you? You don’t even need perfume. You’re so perfect, princess."

"Maybe the hunting affected you waaaay too much." You laugh, letting yourself fall into the warmth of his touch.

"Okay, but before we start this ‘appreciation session,’ you’re eating. No way I’m letting my girl starve while I’m having all the fun." He says, stepping back to unwrap the bags while you head to the kitchen to grab the plates.

He pulls out a chair for you, and you smile, sitting down to eat. He leans in one last time to sniff the back of your neck before sitting across from you, looking like he’s already counting down the minutes until he can taste you. The fastest dinner Dean Winchester’s ever eaten—because he’s already totally lost in the idea of tasting you, completely.

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 19

Wordcount: 6,978

A male cop sat by your bedside that afternoon.

Asking you as much as he could while Judy and him took turns writing things and asking things as well. “Those men, who were they?” 

“Hard to say.” You replied as calmly as you could. You were a horrible liar according to everyone but you tried your best to dance around the truth. Sweating bullets and being able to thankfully blame it on sepsis and medication.

“What about that night?” The cop asked as Judy wrote things down.

“They just showed up… Do we have to ask all this right now?” You coughed out sickly. You felt like absolute death.

“I'm afraid we do, Miss YN... Did you know them?...Witnesses  say you called someone.” 

“Jill is the only one alive. Just say Jill.” You mumbled in agitation. Oh you wanted so badly to unravel her lie that she was SUPPOSED to be hiding under a bed and you were on the roof on the other side of the house fighting Ghostface when you called Stu. She was a fucking liar but you had to bite your tongue. You both had a deal here.

“No, of course not. Who I called wasn't those guys if that's what you're implying...I was calling numbers on my phone for help and accidentally called a distant friend I barely ever see. I meant to call Dewey and accidentally called him. He probably thought I was pranking him or something. Ghostface attacked me after that I dropped my phone in the yard and fell off the roof.” You shrugged. Trying not to look at the cop and keeping a poker face with the truth with sprinkles of lies in it. 

The officer wrote things down, “Did those two men take you against your will from this hospital?” 

“Yes.” You firmly stated and looked back at him. Not a lie. They did drag you out. That was God's honest truth that you wish they wouldn't have done but also what choices did you all have left?

“Their description?” 

You tried to ponder, truthfully having to remember what Jill even said. She rushed it out while threatening you in a half delirious fever type of state. “I um…They uh didn't let me look at them too much…”

“Elaborate for us. Why wouldn't you look at your captors?” He sternly demanded

You softly raised your hand trying to find the words and swiped a hand motion over your eye. Getting nervous he might be unraveling you already. 

“You mean blindfolded? Threatened you?” 

“B-Blindfold. Yeah, they blindfolded me once in the car.” What a lie but a good one to save yourself. You didn't know if you could lie that well so try as you.might you gave a half truth. “I passed out most of the car ride, anyways. I didn't see where they took me like roads and everything. And um…And once at the house, I wasn't around them much and they didn't let me see them with being uh…Blindfolded and tied. I was way too weak to even try escaping…” You swallowed. 

“Too weak?” 

“Yeah. Too scared. Too sick. Too injured. I really was out of it and a sitting duck as a hostage.” You gave with a tight voice. God, you might puke again. 

You yelled internally, ‘Damn it, YN. Pull it together. Tell some damn useful fake info!’ Especially now that the cop eyed you, pausing in their writing to analyze you. 

You continued, “But um I did see them a few times and at Kirby's of course…One had red hair I think and far apart teeth and eyes. Tall… The other with dark hair had a hook nose and tan skin…Um…The tall one had a tattoo of something on his shoulder. Uh…Right. Yeah, his right shoulder. He… ” You debated but just went for it. “They reminded me of that Tim and James guy from Windsor years back. Just older and different.”

“So you think these men are the same ones from the 98 incident in Ohio??” Judy asked instead and looked intrigued at the revelation.

It was risky. It could link Billy and Stu to Tim and James like you tried 13 years ago…But it could also get them away from the Tim and James image and send police on a wild goose chase for a while.

You sighed, “The one's never found or proven? I can't say..Maybe? I was in too much shock. It all happened fast and I was on anesthesia once at the hospital and…” You sighed more begrudgingly this time. “This time; I was too focused on protecting Jill at the house than to get details on who those men were but they did remind me of them. I just know that the one definitely had a tattoo and the other had a hooked nose and gree- no, blue. Yeah, blue eyes.” You swallowed down the lies just spewing from you to save your ass while you felt your back sweating and soaking your hospital gown.

“What was it? The tattoo?” 

Oh shit…Shit! Damn, what did that little murdering cretin say it was? Oh no…Think think-

You gave a tight uncomfortable smile and shook your head, “A Phoenix or Dragon or something? I don't remember.” Well the not remembering part was true. 

“And if we reviewed cameras; would it match your story of being dragged out?” 

You ALMOST felt a coughing fit happen at how dry your mouth was…But ICU had no cameras in the room, you remembered that much. Only the hallway.

Judy wrote all this down and nodded to herself. Hopefully that was good…

“Yes…I was dragged out against my will.” 

———————————

Gale listened beside Dewey as they stayed out of the room but within ear shot as he was still technically on the case as Sheriff till he fully turned his badge in. Dewey seemed like he didn't want to see you, didn't want to be near you, didn't want anything to do with you, especially the more you spoke. 

After the officer left your hospital room with Judy in tow, Gale went in despite Dewey trying to get her not to. It seemed she wasn't even worrying about Judy, just enraged at your lies. Dewey was trying to grab her arm but she barged in anyways once you 3 were alone.

You laid there still sicker than a dog but feeling more aware with the right treatment each hour. You gazed over at the woman you once tried so hard to see as a friend even after everything she had done over a decade ago. Look where it got you?

“What are you doing?” Gale demanded with a stern hiss. “What are you playing at? We all saw them and you know who they were. Shit, you protected them! You protected them from Dewey!” 

You said nothing…Glancing over at Dewey in the doorway who wouldn't look at you. A frown and tense look on his face as he folded his arms.

“Listen, YN. I know now. Okay? I do. I should have listened; I believe you. I know Jill Roberts was one of the Ghostface's and she helped Charlie. If you help me; we can lock her up. Randy and all the other victims can get justice.” 

Your eyes widened with a tiny glimmer of hope in you but you shoved it down and knew better. Gale could just be baiting you. Getting you to admit just to lock you up too. And besides…It was too late for that. They shoved you aside, damned you, and protected Jill. There was no turn from that. They could have killed Jill when she showed how she was the potential killer or at least arrested her and kill or fight Billy and Stu afterwards…You didn't know if you would've fought for Billy and Stu as much had Jill been dead but you'd be damned if Jill lived and your only support in Billy and Stu died because of Dewey and Gale. That hope was dead.

Gale stared at you as you were silent. She urged you, “Please just give a correct goddamn statement. Even just to us. I swear, if you tell us the truth, we'll get her…Damn it, do it for Randy. Wasn't he your friend?” 

You stared at her long and hard. “...Because you're so trustworthy after everything you've done?” You mumbled then stayed silent. Anything you said could and would be used against you with cops or the media…Especially Dewey and Gale now. 

“Hmph. So that's how it is, huh? You're gonna betray everyone to hide those two and to keep your own ass safe? Using Selfish Bitch." Gale spat not even whispering now.

Apparently you were a bad liar and a using bitch to everyone lately.

You just looked away wishing she would just leave. “...I told you that night.” You croaked out. “I told you and look what you did. What both of you did…I told you 15 years ago and then 13 years ago…” You shook your head to yourself. “And from a decade onward I've had to rely on myself…You both did this decades ago and now you're trying to blame me?”

Gale perked up and Dewey spared a glance.

You continued in a low mumble, “...I never helped Billy and Stu in 1996. I meant every bit of that. I swear on my life, I never helped them kill my friend's and tried to get them caught for it.” You told the whole truth but carefully in case Gale had a wire. “And you tried taking me to court to be tried as an accomplice for murder over a delay and possibly altered tape. A serious crime with decades of prison time had it worked and you expect me to trust telling you anything? Fuck you.” 

Dewey subtly eyed you. Frowning deeply at ‘friend's’ knowing that meant Tatum too. Yet he seemed like he couldn't even bring himself to truly look at you let alone talk to you. Gale's eye twitched at you dishing the fact of what she tried to pull years ago.

“...Fine.” Gale shrugged mockingly. “Fine, you weren't involved then but you know they're alive. You knew all this time and you hid it…Why? Why did you hide it? Why did you buck me so much at Windsor? Whether we had bad blood or not; we both agreed. We both know who Tim and James are and the first description is accurate. Not this shit you're selling. We both saw them at Windsor, we both saw them a few nights ago in ICU and they do not have a hooked nose and blue eyes and red hair and a fucking tattoo. Why did you hide them in Hollywood? Why are you hiding them now? WHY?” She pleaded urgently with a frown.

You blinked at that but kept your lips sealed.

“Dewey has the pictures of you with them in a motel. Twice.” She threatened through gritted teeth. “I didn't see a fucking hooked nose. I didn't see red hair. I see a damn liar meeting up with two murderers…And they look like grown up Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” 

Ah…That's right. Randy seemed to mention something or maybe it was Dewey? It was hard to tell in the chaos. Regardless, you didn't care if it was clear as day…You were gonna deny it. You had nothing left to lose but your life and freedom and you weren't talking.

Gale seemed to be losing her patience with your tight lip routine. “Aren't you gonna talk? Why are you lying? Why are you giving false descriptions of them when those aren't the pictures you described at college? Andrews and Richard's description matched too…What happened to that scar on James aka Billy's cheek, hm? The one you insisted on at Windsor. Same side you cut Billy with shears the night before he supposedly roped you in against your will. He had gauze on his cheek at the party from you and he still has that scar. In fact, I saw it here at this hospital.  Why leave out that important identifier?...If we found this guy you had relations with or whoever else is on your phone; would he have a scar, YN?” She growled out through her teeth.

“13 years ago…I was under stress and projecting my trauma. I saw what I wanted to see and I think Randy did too. I was in a bad place mentally. But now that I'm more aware and better?” You stared at her long and hard. Lying but this was an easy lie to retell because it was a lie people already labeled you with. “...I just don't remember a scar now-”

“Stop lying!” Gale scoffed loudly, “How can you live with yourself knowing two murderers are free all because of you!? How can you lie to us all these years? In fact, if I was more shocked I'd return the favor and hit you like you did me back in the day; but I'm not that shocked. I always knew you were a liar, I just couldn't prove it. You probably did work with them in 96, right? You're just trying to make it look good, right?...Huh? Are you secretly happy that everyone is dead?” 

You just took it. Numbly gazing at her. Anything you said would be against you. Gale was baiting you to talk and you weren't falling for it. They could claim they had evidence and you still wouldn't speak. 

“You aren't even gonna defend yourself?” Gale demanded. “We could go through your phone, you know. We can see who called. Who you texted. Pictures. I can dig deep. I can find evidence at your house. I can ask around.”

You sighed and just shrugged. All while holding her gaze as you laid in that hospital bed. You felt like you had done this too many times and honestly? You were damn tired. If you did go to prison…So what? This shit was getting way too old for you. Might as well try lying and playing stupid and see if it's as easy as these Ghostface's act like it is.

She grumbled out, “You fucking -” 

“Gale.” Dewey's voice rang out in a low tone. “Leave her alone…She clearly won't talk. We're wasting our time.” 

You frowned deeply wanting desperately to talk to him, more than Gale, to explain…But you knew that was a wasted effort. He wouldn't listen. Hell, he could be bugged; not the same Dewey you knew. So you kept quiet as Gale stormed out before turning back to you and marching back to your bedside to get her final say. 

She returned to get the final word. “You know, I'm a tough cookie. I can handle my maid of honor at my wedding betraying me. I can handle you being a fucking liar…But I can't handle you hurting my husband. He's done nothing but be heartbroken and who can blame him? A woman he looked at like a little sister knew the guys that killed his actual sister; that they were both alive! All while she lied to his face for 15 years!” She spat out, looking almost ready to hit you.

“Gale!” Dewey ordered in a shaky way that just didn't even sound like him. “That's enough. Let's go.” 

You knew your face was failing you. The one ‘Woodsboro Family’ you had left thought you killed Tatum or at least Randy. And at best; he thought, no, he knew you hid his sisters' murderers from him for years.

You swallowed to get the lump down in your throat. Your chest ached as you looked at Dewey and you both locked eyes for a moment and you saw a cold look. Hurt and hate in his eyes you never thought would ever be directed at you as he and Gale left you alone in that hospital room.

“Dewey.” You mumbled to Dewey. “…Where's the Dewey I knew in Hollywood that nabbed my files for me to help me?…Or who read all my book just because I wrote it and found it inspiring?…And now you won't even talk to me alone and hear me out?” You tearly gave in to his revenge and anger and bitterness making him a totally different man. Like seeing Billy and Stu made him spiral and you know it was the cherry on top. “I'm still sorry, Dewey.” 

Leaving you feeling more alone than ever before. Such a stark contrast from him 15 years ago hugging you and crying in your arms at the hospital and defending you…To being the one accusing you and staying away.

Dewey stared at you. His mouth twitched in a tight frown before he left you alone.

———————————

Gale listened as the officer interviewed Jill and her mouth hung open as Jill gave the exact description of the two that you did…It was a lie! It was impossible!

As Judy wrapped it up, Gale all but grabbed her. “This isn't right! Damn it, aren't you trained in observation? Didn't you see the guy that shot you!?” 

“Get your hands off of an Officer, Gale.” Judy ripped her arm away defensively, “I didn't get a good look at him because he shot me after he hit me in the head but he was tall with far apart eyes-” 

“And the hair? Was it dark blonde or red?” 

Judy pondered, “Blondish?…No, Red. Strawberry Blonde-” 

“No!” Gale grumbled at her memory being tainted by Jill and you. “Look at the cameras! Me and Dewey can give an exact description.” 

Judy sighed, “And I believe that of Dewey.” Gale's eyes narrowed at the favoritism as Judy continued, “But we have two witnesses that claim differently and they match up even when interviewing them separately and being away from each other for days. And the cameras only show certain angles that match! We didn't see faces up close and the footage isn't in color.” 

“Why the hell not!?” 

“It's a small old hospital!” Judy exclaimed and shrugged dramatically. “And I'd rather discuss this with Sheriff Riley alone, Gale.” 

Dewey's shoulders were tense as Gale rubbed her face and ignored the blonde's last statement.

Gale mumbled to herself, “I don't understand... How does Jill go from wanting YN dead and claiming she's involved to claiming she was… What? Just scared and misunderstood the situation? And how did they both lie correctly? They had to have communicated together recently under our fucking noses. They had to!” Gale ranted as none of this went how she expected. 

Judy got out her notepad, “Do you want to give another statement? These guys…Sheriff Riley said Billy and Stu…He said in a past statement Jill told him that YN-” 

‘Oh Dewey…’ She thought to herself as she watched him walk away and gave him space. The man looked defeated. Like everything he knew turned out to be a lie.

Gale and Judy blinked hearing something be thrown in the bin nearby. Gale faltered seeing Dewey stalk off. “Sheriff?” Judy worriedly called out to him as Gale went to the trash bin. Picking up his hat with a tight frown. For her husband to do that? To something he was so proud of and his job? 

————————————

You took a stressful 2 days to ‘recover’. Everyday was you on edge and sicker than a dog, you swore your blood pressure was probably up and heart rate a permanent over 100 bpm. The police bothered you one more time for a description and you tried your best to lie about their appearance and you knew you were suspicious. Probably a shitty liar. Stressed and tense and nervous as Hell. But lucky for you, one thing was truthful; you did not know where they were or directions of where they took you. During the day, you were passed out. At night, you were feverish and it was dark. 

You were waiting for them to catch you in a lie. To search your phone. You hated that Billy and Stu stupidly sent you here with your phone on you. Probably not even thinking with you close to death. 

However, it didn't happen. Gale came to pressure you one more time with the photos Dewey had. And to your relief, yeah you COULD say they looked like Billy and Stu especially a decade ago but the most recent ones had them both pretty obscure while inside the motel on the outskirts of Woodsboro. In fact, you couldn't see them. Judy just took shitty pictures to report to Dewey. They had nothing. 

Of course, when she pressed the cops once she realized you wouldn't talk…They questioned.

“Who are those men and why were you meeting them?” 

You paled at Judy's urgent questioning on day 2 in a half of you in that hospital. You sighed…Damn Gale. Damn her.

"You mean the ones you followed me and took pictures of in secret? Stalking me?" I grumbled.

Judy remained aloof, "It was Sheriff Riley's orders to keep an eye on you at all times. Who were they?"

“...One is my mechanic and the other I met in Hollywood years ago…I met them for…” You groaned and was unable to make up something better. “We have…We needed each other.” You nervously coughed out.

Judy looked oblivious. “And what for?” 

Despite yourself you felt flustered because even as a lie; you didn't feel like claiming a booty call. “Um…Relations.” 

She blinked. 

You narrowed your eyes; dear lord how did she have a kid? 

“Sex.” 

Judy's eyes widened even buggier than usual. “Oh…OH!” She wrote something down. “You with…Both??” 

“Yes.” You forced out cheeks heating and a glare at the wall. “I have a well known name and I know how unconventional it is so they're a secret.” 

Judy cleared her throat and uncomfortably adjusted herself. “Well…Ms. YN. There's no room for secrets with a string of murders. Where are they?” 

“Don't know, we called it off.” 

“Oh really? And what were their names?” 

You shrugged, “Vincent and Den..Nis. Dennis.” 

Judy raised a brow. “Last names?” 

“Vincent never told me his last name.” 

“And you never asked??” Judy looked bewildered.

You blew air through clenched teeth, “Look it was never serious enough. Not everything is a Disney Romance, you know... Vincent is just a guy that works at some mechanic shop that I think is closed now and we have…Look we just have quick relations, okay?” You grumbled wanting to be anywhere but here. 

“And Dennis? You met him in Hollywood? During Stab? Could it be-” She gasped. “...The actor?! Rafkin?” 

You winced, “...Um…Maybe...Yes. He keeps a low profile probably out of the Country on Holiday.” Unable to get out of this one. 

“Do you have their numbers?” 

“Yes but I doubt they'd answer. We called it off.” You gazed over at her. “And they weren't involved. I promise I know my…-” You grimaced. “Guys and they were not the two guys involved in this.” 

Judy wrote things down. “You know we can get a warrant to look through your phone-” 

“You can now.” You swallowed hoping doing this might make you look more innocent.

You felt your palms sweating as she looked. Then raised a brow seeing ‘Vincent’ texts. “What's this?” 

“We spoke secretly because I did not want Randy and them to look down on me for my private life…We called in secret. I heard a noise and thought it was the killer and it wasn't. So he texted me frantically thinking something happened.” 

And that was the honest truth, actually…Hm. Maybe this lying thing wasn't too hard. Just tell what truth you could throughout the lies.

Judy nodded looking through your phone seeing you had called an ‘unknown’ number the night at Kirby's.

“That was Dennis. I meant to press Dewey's contact. I always kept his unknown because he was so…Embarrassed over being with someone like me.” You forced yourself to give as if a woman scorned.

She eyed you and you prayed she bought it. To your immense relief, she handed you the phone. “You deserve better. Especially if he's the same guy I heard you arguing with at Mr's Meeks' house in the backyard. I know how tough a situationship can be, believe it or not.” 

“Can't argue with that.” You sighed out in relief. 

“Well, for now, they're not suspects or witnesses. We aren't resting till we capture these guys that kidnapped you though. Murderers, kidnappers, one shot an officer and could've killed me…I swear, I'll never forget his face…I swear he looked familiar.” 

You forced a head nod but felt tension at that. That tension didn't leave even as she finally left. All it would take is watching a movie with Dennis and boom.

You heard Gale arguing with her down the hall and you rolled your eyes. You saw Judy warn Gale to back off of police business. Showing her badge for emphasis through the window.

Gale wasn't gonna stop. She just wasn't. And if she did? It would be a while. Years of watching your back, who you talked to, who you called, what you said.

You sighed and leaned back, closing your eyes in your elevated hospital bed. You couldn't go home fast enough. No more hustle and bustle, no more interviews, no more book signings, no more. You didn't care if you had to work remotely or a shitty normal job  if it meant peace. A nice domestically slow leisurely life. You were so damn eager after all this time and all this stress; so much grief fueling you to shut yourself away like you did a decade ago. Only this time no Randy or Dewey by your side. 

It was a little bit later that you turned on your tv while trying to stomach food of some sort…Every news station was you and Woodsboro and…Jill Roberts.

You declined every single interview not only to appease that little monster but because you just wanted to be done with the limelight. If Jill wanted all eyes on her like a spoiled brat? So be it! 

Your eyes narrowed and a sickening feeling came up as Jill played the victim in her hospital room still down the hall from you. Most likely an interview from earlier today. 

“It was terrifying…I'm just so glad me and YN made it. YN really fought hard but after she went down I did what I had to survive and finish off Charlie and the other two thankfully stayed down…It was traumatic.” She dabbed her eyes.

That lying little bitch. 

You felt anger well up in you. There was no answer. Either go to prison for god knows how long and have your name tainted to HOPEFULLY get her to go to prison too…Or suck it up that the person that murdered her friends and yours; got away with it. Clearly the police after interviewing you both separately again and again were positive despite Dewey or Gale's rambling and a stray nurse or doctor that didn't line up. The police and media seemed to think that you weren't involved and sadly neither was that piece of teenage shit.

Two crudely drawn pictures of ‘suspects’ were up. They somewhat resemble Billy and Stu but not quite. Not enough to pick them out of a crowd right away. Thankfully after you ‘admitted’ to Windsor pictures of Billy and Stu as Tim and James not being accurate and Randy unable to buck you or those two Detectives; they weren't reliable now. Just a traumatized teen girl that needed on meds back in ‘98 that poorly convinced, but convinced nonetheless, the authorities that the current sketch was more accurate of ‘Tim and James’ aka the guys ‘Most likely’ involved. Vincent and Dennis may need to change their look and lay low for a year or two. Maybe even change identities…But they might get away too, and despite how wrong it was, you were kinda…Relieved. 

You groaned and turned your tv off. Unable to listen to Jill's fucking lies. She lied much better than you did but thankfully since both your stories matched and they had no idea the cunning weasel Jill was. No clue she called you in secret on someone's phone or even the hospital staff for all you knew with how devious she was…Who would contradict your statements? Your ‘description’ matched up and you two were the only ones at the house to say so and the hospital had a few camera shots of them but too many contradictions. Judy barely got a glimpse of them and could clearly easily be swayed. Dewey was ranting like a lunatic that it was Billy and Stu and was obviously discredited for it and Gale was 50/50 if people would believe her. 

Dewey and Gale's descriptions were accurate and looked like Billy and Stu who were supposed to be dead. You and Jill's description match for the most part and you both were the victims at the house and both of you feigned innocence that ‘How could they possibly be Billy and Stu? There's no way.’ 

Who would the cops and the media believe? Exactly.

You closed your eyes. Back to square one. Being the innocent sweetheart was good while it lasted but you knew it wouldn't last forever. Just like you knew it wouldn't last for Jill either…She'll find out the hard way attention isn't always good. 

You knew conspiracy theorists would side with Gale and Dewey just like they did in the 90's when Gale made her claims you were involved. Some believer had attacked you at your damn house. And truthfully, this time around they'd be half correct. But thankfully, no one but tinfoil hats and naysayers would trust Gale's word over you, Jill and the media.

————————————

Gale paced their house. “This is bullshit…” She shoved a newspaper onto the table. “Utter bullshit, Dewey!” 

Dewey clutched his head. Yesterday still on his mind and today. He had to identify Randy Meeks body for Karla before they planned any final arrangements yesterday. He didn't want Karla to have that on her…Seeing his lifeless face.

The legal battle of Randy being Jewish and the state versus his religion on keeping his body for examination way past 24 hours for any evidence. He looked like a Halloween prop to Dewey. Skin unnatural from being kept on ice so to speak. They made sure he was not embalmed, at least only kept on ice and a Rabbi performed the right ceremonies for him. The Jewish Community the Meeks were a part of, including his sister Martha, fought the authorities wanting his body buried immediately while coroner's had to gather as much evidence as possible. Fibers, prints, how he was killed, if the knife matched a suspect.

It was only after determining the killer was most likely Charlie after finding knife patterns matching his Dad's hunting knife and shoe prints matching his in the mud and a hair found almost days later on Randy's jeans matching Charlie that they could put him to rest…Even though there was plenty of other contaminated evidence from the party on him and even if arguably some evidence was overlooked. Dewey just had to confirm the body one more time before putting him to rest. The coroner wanted more time but was legally advised along with the police department not to. That they had already pushed Jewish law enough as it was for the examination and Randy's family would win in court if they were taken there, something they threatened if even one more day went by. After all, his body had been kept for over a few days.

Bruises on the neck from the rope, lifeless features, skin so cold it was blue with veins showing. He couldn't imagine how much sewing they had to do to his body under that sheet despite his religion; or else his innards would be spilling out everywhere while on the examination table. When they opened his eyes slightly, lifting the lids, they were gray and dead…He looked nothing like fun jovial smart alec Randy and yet it was him. 

“Are you listening!?” Gale snapped.

“No.” Dewey mumbled in a strained voice, nursing whiskey. It has become a crutch to sleep and to loosen up right now. “No, I'm not. I had a pretty bad few days, Gale.” 

Gale went to snap a snarky remark but faltered. Then with a heavy sigh she leaned over the table. “...I know this was a shitty week. But if anything, it's more of a reason to not stop fighting.” She pointed at the table. “Do. Not. Give. Up.” 

Dewey leaned back looking at her. A lot of hope drained from him the last few days. “...And what? It's an open investigation now turning into a cold case.” He groaned and lightly smacked the table. “There are multiple fingerprints, one might match Billy Loomis from ‘96 but what will that do if they're nowhere to be found and no evidence they're alive? You said it yourself! We'll be laughed out of the courtroom. They'll claim the fingerprints were unreliable smudges or someone else. Same with the blood. If they aren't in the system paying taxes or buying things from reputable places or have credit scores then what good does it do? They might not even be in the Country now.” He shook his head.

“So what?” Gale urged. “And we don't know that. If they're stupid enough to stick around to help YN-” 

Dewey winced at that, “Can we just stop talking about it?” 

Gale looked dumbfounded but sat down. “...Don't you want this solved?” 

He scoffed, “Of course I do! But if Billy and Stu are never found then what good does it do?” 

“Um, incriminating Jill? The actual killer.” She grumbled. “If you won't search Jill's phone records then I will go to the Attorney General and get a subpoena.” 

Dewey glared at his wife, “No you won't.” 

“And what's stopping me? Why not!?” She demanded at her wits end with her husband  going in circles. “Still think Jill's innocent?” 

Dewey's mouth twitched and he rested his chin on his forearm on the table, “I don't know what to think anymore…But you are not going to rock this case until we find Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” 

“Why?” Gale demanded harsher this time. “What's stopping me from just pointing it out online to some crime junkie then?! That video was shot in Jill's room Dewey and it's obvious and I can't believe you and your department are glossing over it!” 

“Because you're not throwing YN in prison, alright!?” He finally snapped before his voice and face wavered. “If you search Jill's phone and we find that evidence or we overanalyze the video and prove it was there then a case will go to court and…I don't know how much YN is involved. But I just…I just can't send her to prison until those bastards go first!...Besides, a video isn't enough without DNA and eyewitness testimony…Kirby said nothing about Jill or YN, only Charlie, and both their stories match up suddenly. We're the odd ones out here and Judy was knocked out before she could truly see them…All you'll do is send YN to prison, possibly Jill and those two jerks walk free like they have for 15 years.” He firmly declared.

Gale looked bewildered, “I can't believe this.” She huffed with a shake of her head. “You told her to get out and never come back. You were hunting her down. You wanted to arrest her if it meant getting answers-” 

“I wasn't thinking, Gale.” He grumbled and sipped his glass. “Maybe…Maybe I do think Jill could be what you claim?” Gale looked pleasantly surprised but he continued, “Maybe I realize this is bigger than I thought? Maybe, just maybe, I still have a bit of faith in YN that she wouldn't do any of this unless blackmail or forced or something…Why else would she come back? Why else would they send her here? You saw her! She was fighting them down the hall! She didn't want to go-” 

Gale scoffed and got up from her chair, “You're being an idiot!” 

“And you're being an opportunist.” He bitterly told her. “You're being the Gale I broke up with years ago. It always comes full circle for you, doesn't it?” Gale stiffened at his tipsy words and looser tongue as he buried his weary head in his arms on the table. 

“Hey, it does not! I have a career!” She argued seeing Dewey get more tipsy it seemed by the hour. Minute even. 

“Randy's dead. YN's a Traitor whether by force or her own will. Jill could be the victim or the killer. Billy and Stu lived and are out free. Hell, maybe I'm the killer at this point? Or you!” He slurred with a pitiful groan.

She huffed, rolling her eyes and taking the bottle from him. Gale gazed down at him and her usual stoic smugness softened. “...I know this is probably harder on you than it is me and we're being assholes to each other.” She sat the bottle aside and cupped his cheek as he damn near pouted at her. She sighed and softly ordered. “I think you need to take care of yourself with sleep and food that isn't liquid.” 

He grumbled, “No…I gotta keep looking, you said it yourself we can't give up. But for them, not YN and Jill. I want them to suffer, I want them to face justice damn it.” 

She sighed again and combed his short hair back a bit with her fingers. “Yeah, I know. But the biggest evidence to incriminate Jill Roberts and put the murderer away is on her phone, Dewey. It's right there.” 

“And the biggest evidence of all is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” He enunciated their names. 

“Look. Two things can be right, ya know.” 

“Not until we get them. I know YN, Gale…They got something on her…She's scared and won't talk cause she's worried.” 

“Yeah, worried about her own ass.” Gale grumbled under her breath as she pulled away.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” She straightened herself. “Dewey, c'mon. You cannot just let the case go cold until we find Billy and Stu; if we find them. What? Are you just giving up because we may never find them?” 

He shrugged tiredly, dark eyes dropping. “Maybe. The media is having a field day with Jill and we would need a LOT of evidence to make her guilty IF she is and you're right somehow.” 

Gale reluctantly agreed in a grunt of resignation. Jill was sweet as pie right now and the media was in her favor. 

“And YN was already made to look guilty from yyoouu-” He pointed at her, “She'll get blamed for something those two did!” 

She sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah? May I remind you she lied and shielded Billy Loomis from being shot. Twice. 1996 and now 2011” 

“Because she's a good person; you should try it.” He huffed out.

Gale sneered with a tsk, “Alright, you're eating something and sobering up.” She stalked to the kitchen as he sat at the small table and kept talking.

"She may be naive and stubborn but she's too soft hearted...I was wrong. She's gotta be protecting them from blackmail or maybe from being just too sweet of a person." He swallowed and shook his head. “She was dragged out…She didn't wanna go with them…You said it yourself, why was Jill in her room in the middle of the night? Why did Billy and Stu take her back here?...Why isn't she saying anything?...Why does her and Jill's description match when they're lliieesss?” He stretched out the last part. “How'd that happen, Gale? Huh? How did it happen?” He almost pleaded tiredly.

Gale was at a crossroads that she couldn't quite decide yet. She did NOT like the idea of it being a cold case forever looking for Billy and Stu…She hated someone else getting the glory for the inevitable of pointing out Jill's low survival rate and her superficial wounds plus Olivia's death recorded from her bedroom window as her neighbor…

Gale momentarily halted making him something. “...I don't know.” For once, was the answer. The only answer she had. Nothing made sense to her. You and Jill wouldn't talk and Dewey was gonna fight her on incriminating Jill and you. For hiding those two; Gale had no issue sending your ass to prison for tanking her career over lies you were still lying about but Dewey apparently did. 

But she also didn't want to make an enemy of her husband.

Fuck.

She sighed heavily while making him a grilled cheese. “....Fine.” She laid the plate down harsher than necessary in front of him. “We'll twiddle our thumbs waiting around to find Billy and Stu but mark my words, Dewey. If another murder happens? I am bringing that tape in play and that second murder is on you and Woodsboro PD. If YN goes to prison for whatever involvement she had then so be it. You can't protect her forever; especially if she's a damn murderer too.” 

With that, Gale left the room. Leaving a weary Dewey half drunk and tired and so emotionally drained he might as well be catatonic as he numbly nibbled on the grilled cheese his impatient wife burned.

[auroracalisto]

day #22: "i'll be home for christmas"

tangerine x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: i mention that you like cheese ball and when i say that, i mean this thing (this thing also says msg but i think the recipe we use has something else... idk). i hope it's not just a southern west virginia thing. it's my favorite thing at holidays. i know it looks freaky and child me used to REFUSE but these and tollhouse butter crackers... cheese ball hates to see me comin', y'all. also, did you know that "i'll be home for christmas" was initially written in regards to soldiers overseas who wouldn't be home to celebrate christmas with their loved ones? crazyy.

I'll be home for Christmas You can plan on me Please have snow and mistletoe And presents on the tree Christmas Eve'll find me Where the love light gleams I'll be home for Christmas If only in my dreams

Before you, he never truly cared for Christmas, or any holiday for that matter. It just didn't strike him as anything special. But then he met you, and it was like something within him changed. You seemed so... excited for simple things like gifts and merry-making, and by God, he'd make sure he'd make you the happiest person in the world if he could help it.

But work was work. He couldn't just avoid it, and he especially couldn't turn down suck an incredible paycheck. Hell, this job may have been difficult, but who the hell would've thought it would have lasted this long?

Typically, his jobs lasted a few days. Maybe a week or two, tops. This one was going on three weeks, and nearing Christmas. It was as if whoever this damned man had wanted him to miss Christmas—wanted him to miss the morning lying in bed with you, kissing you, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

He didn't often hate his job, but right now? He wished he would have some cozy office job where he'd be home no matter what. Every holiday, he'd be by your side, decorating and drinking and participating in whatever merry making you wanted. Damn, he'd even try baking cookies and creating that weird cheese ball thing you'd mentioned from your childhood. It looked more like a thing that could grow legs and walk away, but he'd give anything just to be home with you. To be with you instead of sitting here growing restless with his brother grumbling on about how he wished he was home as well—not that he could blame him.

Tangerine patted his thigh with his hand and reached for his phone. He dialed your number, a frown on his lips. He sat on the edge of his hotel bed, knowing that he wouldn't be home. There'd be no way, regardless of how much he wanted to be. But he'd lie. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right?

"Hey, love," he said as soon as the receiver picked up.

"Hi, Tan," he heard your voice come through.

He smiled a bit to himself. "You, uh, doin' alright?" he asked. "Takin' care of yourself, yeah?"

Lemon glanced over at him, raising a curious eyebrow. Tangerine just waved him off with a pursed lip."

"Yeah," you said. "Tan, how's the job coming? Are you almost done?"

Your voice is soft on the receiver—must be poor service from his end.

"I miss you."

The words strike him silent for a moment. He sighed softly and closed his eyes. "Yeah, I know you do, love," he said. "I'm sorry. I'll be home soon, I promise."

"How soon?" you asked.

"I'm aimin' for Christmas Eve," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He could hear Lemon protesting the little lie, but Tangerine simply waved him off and then proceeded to flip him off.

"Christmas Eve. You don't sound too sure," you replied.

He breathed through his nose and closed his eyes. Why were you always so good at seeing through his words? It was almost like you were a psychic. Either that or Lemon was fucking texting you that he was lying.

Tangerine cursed at his brother, throwing one of the hard hotel pillows at his face. It hit him and Lemon let out a shout in protest.

"Tangerine," you said, his code name drawing his attention back to the phone.

"Right. Sorry, love. I, uh, it's not lookin' too good, sweetheart. I'm going to try and make it back as soon as I can, but I can't make any promises right now."

"Really?" you sadly said.

"Yeah, really," he said. "You know, maybe I can dream about being home for the holidays."

You scoffed softly. "What, like the Bing Crosby song?"

"What song?" he asked.

"Um," you paused. "'I'll Be Home for Christmas.'"

"Bing Crosby?"

"The singer, you dipshit," Lemon quipped from his side of the hotel room.

Tangerine rolled his eyes. "How's it go, love? Remind me."

"I'm not singing it to you," you said, "but I'll send it to you."

He snorted softly. "Yeah, you do that," he said.

Tangerine glanced toward the clock on the wall—it was nearly two in the morning. He sighed softly. He knew you were a couple hours behind him, so he wasn't keeping you awake, but he knew you still needed to go. You had a life beyond him (or at least, he hoped you did—jokes, jokes).

"Look, love, if things change, I'll be the first to message you," he said.

You sighed softly on the phone. "Do that," you said. "I miss you, Tan."

"I miss you more, love. Honest."

"I know," you said. "Just... be safe. Come home soon. We can always celebrate when you get back."

His brows furrowed. "How would we celebrate Christmas after the holiday?"

You snorted softly. "I don't think Christmas is just a day," you said. "I feel like as long as you have the people you want to celebrate with, it can be a holiday. The number doesn't truly matter."

He hummed softly at your words. "Want to invite Lemon?"

"If you want Lemon, sure."

He grinned. "Sounds like a plan, love. I'll save a day of Christmas just for you, though."

You scoffed over the phone, but he just knew you were smiling.

"I love you," Tangerine softly said. He knew Lemon heard it, and he'd say something later, but all he wanted was for you to say it back.

Perhaps it was his only wish of the night as he heard the words "I love you" over the phone, and a wish for him to have a good night.

When you hung up, he dropped his phone and looked toward Lemon.

"If we don't finish this fuckin' job in the next two days, someone is gonna bloody die, and it isn't me."

Lemon rolled his eyes. "Stop bein' so fuckin' dramatic. We'll finish the job and you can be back home playing house with your little beau."

Tangerine grumbled under his breath and laid back in his hotel bed, looking up at the popcorn ceiling.

"Damn. Remind me in the future to take all of December off."

Lemon raised an eyebrow. "You plan on taking all of December off just for a holiday?"

"Nah, mate, not just a holiday. For them."

[burningcheese-merchant]

hello dear merchant!! thank you so much for getting me into burningcheese they make me so ill /pos

i can (somewhat) read french so i decided to reread beast yeast chapter 6 in the language for fun and i wanted to share some highlights ><

- Nutmeg Tiger calls Golden Cheese a "gift" for Burning Spice

- I know this is the literal translation of "little bird" but Burning Spice calling her "petite oiselle" sounds so cute 😭

- Golden Cheese outright says Burning Spice is "obsessed with (finding) her"

- Burning Spice telling Golden Cheese to "feed him with her anger" ???

You're welcome :P I'm down terminal because of this ship, the more people I can drag down with me, the better. Gonna convince the whole damn world to ship BurningCheese, you'll see. We'll get a canon wedding scene before the end of the century at the absolute latest

And uh. I checked out those scenes because uhhh I, too, can somewhat read French. Uhhhhhh I took French in high school and uhhhhhh believe it or not, English isn't my first language, it's a Latin-based language, so uhhhh I can read other "Latin" ones relatively well. And uh. Those scenes. Uhhhhh

BurningCheese AU where Burning Spice is French instead of Indian and he calls Golden Cheese "petite oiselle" STAT

"un cadeau"... A gift. She's a gift for him, huh? Is that how he sees it? How he sees her?

"Je peux m'amuser avec elle" means "I can have fun with her". There's no "with her" in the English version. In this one, he's very clear that he wants fun with her specifically. It's the little things, man...

I- "The earth is still fresh". DID THEY JUST CONFIRM THAT HE ACTUALLY IS SNIFFING HER OUT? I said in my ship evidence post that it almost seems like he's attuned to her scent/aura... I guess I was right?? He is unironically trying to smell her oh my God

"Wonderful!" (Or "beautiful". Please, please just let me believe he's calling her beautiful, PLEASE) "Keep it up, let's dance!" Let's dance. Let's dance. Unironically spoken to her face. Of all the words of tongue and pen...

"Feed me your rage" my guy- idk what to say to that even. Burning Spice Cookie, are you for real right now

"Devant moi". "Before me". That's not there in the English one, either. This is the second time he makes specific reference to them and how he feels about her

I just. Absolute cinema, I knew those French freaks wouldn't let us down. @ Devsisters can they just kiss/get married/fuck already preferably onscreen please and thank you

[ochiody]

ochi are you on malevolent right now?? /pos (join us join us join us)

i just finished episode 1 so not anymore lol. ive some thoughts

id ont know why but i feel like arthur is or was a father. its been one fucking hour but hes just seems like that?? whered i get this from. is he a girl dad

the voice (that i am unsure if it has a name or not) is lowk really fucking funny but god damn please take a chill pill

the thing w the darkness realm or whatever is nice because im assuming you can really do whatever you want character design wise

idk i thought the bit where the guy stops arthur from falling down one (1) step was nice. like not only from a 'well this is also my body now so i have to preserve it' standpoint but it felt like he was genuinely worried loll

on this note i think they will either become friends or form such a complicated ass relationship from the specificity of their circumstances that their relationship cant really be defined. just love period

arthur is like not even a word anymroe . arthur. ourhur. autrjhrehhthjun

[zznlii]

eren smoked weed like nobody's business. he wouldn't say he had a problem however, because the main time he was even smoking the stuff was when he was deep inside you already, rearranging your insides with a pace that left you dizzy and incoherent.

he smoked it with the joint in one hand and your jaw clenched in the other, his forearm used to push one of your knees practically to your ear.

"look so fucking good like that, ma.. ah shit." he huffs, the smell of marijuana on his breath as he gets closer to your face.

he brings the joint to his lips and takes a long drag, eyes rolling back as you purposefully clench around him and the mere sight of his casual act during one of the brutal fucking's of your life.

there's a glint in eren's eyes as a coy grin spreads across his pearly whites. he holds the smoke in his lungs for no more than three seconds before forcing you to slack your jaw as he gets impossibly closer and breathes that shit into your lungs for you.

oversensitivity was a given when smoking weed, and right now it seemed to be hitting you tenfold. especially when he drops the joint into the ashtray perched on his bedside table just so he could reach between your consistently and rapidly connecting bodies to rub quick little circles on your drenched clit.

"oh fuck yes.. you like that? you feeling it baby? yeaaah you are..." he grins at you, that sadistic yet stupidly hot grin of his as he pistons his hips harder against your own, touching that deep spongy spot inside of you.

you can't even form words as silent screams slip past your swollen lips, drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your jaw remained clenched between his strong fingers and slacked.

"'r-ren... please- please i can't-" you try, you try so hard, but eren would be damned if he actually listened to your babbling. he knew you all too well. and that meant he knew when you were talking about absolutely nothing.

"i know ma, i know. just take this dick and be good for me yeah?" leaning down he plants a sloppy, wet kiss against your lips as you desperately try to keep up.

"s'fucking deep.. can't- m'sensitive!" your words slur and god he sounds so mean when he laughs at you.

"mmm, you're sensitive aren't you? can't even handle shotgunning, pretty?" he's mocking you, your mushy brain can determine that much, but he makes it sound so sweet.

he fakes a sympathetic pout down at you as his hand lets go of your jaw to grab the headboard that had previously been violently rocking against the wall behind it, just for leverage to pick up his already damning pace.

"yeah just like that.. look at me just like that. fuck! you're so pretty.." he groans, head tilting back as he fights the urge to screw his eyes shut just so he could keep watching you as your eyes lose their focus with every concentrated drag of his throbbing veins against your pulsing walls.

yeah, eren wouldn't admit to being addicted to weed, but he would proudly admit to being addicted to your pussy.

[auspicioustidings]

Chapter 1. Amendment 4-O

Masterlist (inc Content Warnings)

November

Charu Hale had already been serving when Amendment 4-O made headlines and the debate around the country had been overshadowed by the fact she was pretty busy trying to save the fucking world.

Not officially in close combat of course, she wasn’t allowed to do that then, but despite the word medic on her file she did a lot more than patch fellow soldiers up.

Sure omegas weren’t allowed to serve in close combat, but on a technicality she certainly had been. Combat medic was still classed as a support role despite the fact that she was almost always up close and personal with people shooting at her and she was almost always shooting back.

But still, her mother had sacrificed a lot to be special forces and that was the dream on signing up. And with Amendment 4-O, the right of omegas to serve in any capacity in the UK military would finally be afforded to her. She honestly hadn’t thought it would make it to law, the whole country had been in bitter argument over the whole thing and the majority of politicians voting on it were alphas. At that point, there were only around 30% betas and a measly 6 omegas sitting in parliament.

She remembered the day it was announced it had passed. She had been in hospital for a checkup on the burned scent gland on the right side of her neck that had her on medical leave. It was a heinous thing to mess with anyone’s scent glands, but especially an omegas given their social value to society. What better way to torture someone than use their own designation against them?

She hadn’t been held for very long thankfully. Only one gland burned since her captors had wanted to leave the other side of her neck and her wrists working to see exactly what she smelled like when the scent blockers and suppressants wore off. She wasn’t stupid, she knew as soon as it started to come out of her system they would be eagerly awaiting her heat. Did they want her to be ashamed of how she would lose control? When alphas treated their own loss of control during ruts like it was God’s fucking gift to prove how dominant they were? Not a damn chance. She had been fully prepared to go through a heat with them and not break over it.

Her CO was eager to discharge her entirely. After all what would have happened had she went into heat and they had claimed her? It would tie her to them permanently while any of them lived. They’d be able to feel her through the bond, know exactly what her emotions were doing when they interrogated her.

Funny how that CO never mentioned that the reverse would have worked. She’d have been able to feel them too. Not only that, but they’d have to fight their instincts to protect her constantly if they wanted to torture info from her. Unless of course they didn’t let her complete the bond. It was an disgusting thing to bite someone and not let them bite back. The bite wouldn’t ever settle, would stay painful and swollen and get worse and worse the longer it went. It would need to be on a scent gland because that was the only way to get a forced bite to take.

If that had happened to her she’d at least know she’d probably only have a year or two before she went totally mad to the extent she barely understood what was happening to her anymore.

Even so, alphas were hard wired to protect omegas so it would be difficult for any alpha to do that to someone. It was incredibly fucking stupid that her designation was the one seen as a vulnerability when plenty of alpha soldiers had been undone by a pretty omega perfume.

Betas had always been allowed on front lines too despite not having as good a nose. How was that fair? Charu could get the emotional temperature of someone from one sniff and it had saved lives because she knew whether negotiating was going to work or if she had to take the shot. She knew if someone was nervous or if they were hiding something. Even if they were on scent blockers, omegas were the best of the bunch at reading pheromones absent of scent, so she was the one that was the best bet for reading enemies.

Most people in the military were on scent blockers. Strong ones. Sure they wanted to hide their own scents, but for a lot of them it was to do with their packs. Any bite would carry the scent of the person who left it and while bite scents could be suppressed by the person wearing them fairly easy, it was hard to keep them suppressed under stress. The last thing any solider wanted was to give their enemies the exact scent of their pack mates. Not an issue for her given she didn’t have a pack.

She remembered sitting in that hospital room off of scent blockers with the beta doctor looking at her scent gland like it was the most hideous disfigurement he had ever seen. It didn’t affect her scent that much, all of her others were still in order. She remembered how the omega nurse had asked her in a whisper if she had seen the news. She remembered how it felt to know that she were going to follow in her mother’s footsteps despite her wishes when she had been alive and be special forces because now they couldn’t fucking stop her.

She’d have never gotten to trials had it not been for the help of omegas along the way. Omegas who pushed through paperwork, ignored pressure from higher ups to slow things down, went against every alpha medical professional who tried to discharge her as medically unfit for whatever reason they could find and testified on her behalf that she was fully fit to take part.

At some point it became its own pressure. She didn’t want to be to be the first omega in the special forces, she didn’t want to be a trailblazer or someone to look up to, but it’s what was happening as a consequence of wanting to be special forces regardless of her designation. With all that expectation on her, failure wasn’t really an option. Quitting wasn’t an option.

Even if a certain pack made it their mission to get her to give in.

—

January

John Price didn’t much care what a bunch of soft bickering politicians said, omegas did not belong on the front lines. It was a basic fact of biology, the stress alone would kill them, the alpha instinct to protect them would kill their team mates and if by some miracle neither of those things happened and they got captured? It made him feel violently ill. He knew what evil men did to omegas. He’d seen it once. He hadn’t known him but it was to torture him, to have him watch this poor omega be broken apart using every single part of his designation against him. He still had nightmares.

He thought he had saved him. He got them both out. At that time Ghost was pack and the two of them tried so hard to help him. It wasn’t enough, he was already too far gone. It was Ghost who found his body.

They would not stand for putting an omega in harms way, not when they knew what that meant. He’d argued against the proposed fitness standards, saying if omegas wanted to be SAS then they should be able to prove the same physical fitness as any other designation. That was shot down considering the standards were different between alphas and betas because at the end of the day an alpha was going to have a significant natural strength advantage.

He at least had them set as hard for omegas. If he was being honest with himself harder than it would be for alphas if you boiled it down to what was considered hard for each designation, but he was willing to play dirty to do what ultimately amounted to the right thing. If none of them ever passed the standards, none of them would ever get put into situations not compatible with their biology.

It was frustrating because he knew both him and Ghost probably sounded like alpha elitists of the highest order, but that wasn’t it. He desperately wanted to find their pack omega. He wanted to give them the whole world and keep them safe. He wanted an equal partnership that acknowledged their designations but didn’t hinge their whole relationship on them.

That became even more true with the addition of Gaz and Soap to their pack. Soap wasn’t a traditional alpha, half the time he acted like an omega. Gaz had none of the hot headedness that came with most alphas, instead acting more like a pack beta with how he calmed situations down and made sure they were all looked after. A traditionalist omega would hate them, would never accept alphas who didn’t dominate their way through the world like him and Ghost tended to do.

But he just knew there was an omega out there that would be the perfect fit. Not totally submissive, just enough to soothe their alphas while still standing up to them when the occasion called for it. Happy to accept that Gaz would be their partner in handling the maintenance of pack bonds when that was traditionally down to the omega only. And someone who didn’t take offence to Soap wanting a say in the nest, because they all knew he’d be heartbroken if he didn’t.

The biggest hurdle would be asking an omega to be part of a pack made up of all special forces alphas. They would be gone so much of the time with no guarantee of when or even if they’d return. Him and Ghost had spoken about it at length, considered if it would be time for one or both of them to retire if they did find their omega. But the idea of not having their younger pack members backs was terrifying.

Maybe they just weren’t meant to have an omega. Wouldn’t be fair to put them through being packed with the 141, perfect match or not. He was willing to have his pack always be missing something if it meant sparing an omega the pain and grief of being with them.

He did not hate omegas. He did not see them as less than. But they did not bloody well belong on the front lines.

And yet here he was trying not to march straight into the new batch of recruits and drag the omega out of there by the scruff. He should have known as soon as it went into law that there would be a reckless omega trying to prove something. She was a sturdy thing for sure, short but stocky. Sort of reminded him of Soap and he quickly dismissed the wondering about if she perhaps did the same as his boy when on leave, let herself get a little softer around the edges so whoever was waiting for her back home would have something to really sink their fingers into.

He’d checked her record. Charu Hale, 24 years old, presented as an omega at 16. Presentations varied, but 16 was considered young. Her height was noted at a diminutive 5 foot 4 inches, but he couldn’t help but think she looked even shorter in person. She signed up at 17 and he had been growling reading her record since then. It was cruel. Her COs had been so consistently cruel. It was in how they wrote about her, the assignments she got given. It made him feel uncomfortable because he knew he was gearing up to be much the same to get her the fuck out of here.

Not much family noted, but he could take a guess at why. Alpha mother and beta father. Female alphas were already somewhat of an anomaly, but for them to do anything but pack with male alphas and an omega was frowned upon. He thought it was bullshit, traditional pack dynamics being forced on anyone was heinous. But it didn’t change the fact that there was a non-zero chance their relationship had found them cut off from their families. Even more a social sin their pack had taken the beta’s name rather than the alpha’s.

The father was a civilian, but the mother had a record. Special fucking forces. He wasn’t proud of the digging he did to pour over the service record of Hasina Devi (looked like it changed to Hale about 6 years in, he wondered how they met), to figure out the journey she took from India to apply for the British army (Commonwealth citizens were given eligibility, but he couldn’t imagine it was made easy for her) and the way she gave seniors no choice but to accept her to the SAS with her frankly incredible test results. She only ever made it to Sergeant.

He tried to make sense of it. This wasn’t the record of someone who was a Sergeant. Some of the ops she went on? It was ridiculous he had never heard of her. They’d scrubbed her from their history. Let her record sit gathering dust in a drawer rather than admit that a female alpha had been one of their best.

Look, he got it. He got why her daughter would want to follow in her footsteps, legacy was a powerful thing. But Hale was not her alpha mother. She was an omega.

Ghost would probably do something that would get him discharged to get her to quit, Gaz would try convince him to let her give it a shot and Soap… he had to get her out of here before Soap ever set eyes on her. Out of the pack he was the one that felt strongest about them missing a pack mate, one he hoped was an omega. Plus he’d always insisted that their omega wouldn’t just give them an easy time, that he knew deep down whoever their mate was would keep them on their toes. Putting an omega soldier who was stubbornly trying to qualify for the SAS despite everything in front of Soap was practically MacTavish bait.

He needed to do this himself and quickly. He didn’t relish the idea of her failing, he knew it would probably cause her distress, but it was better she went through this now than died and got everyone in her team killed down the line.

“Move Corporal.”

“Sir?”

Price just raised an eyebrow at the Corporal sitting in position to be ‘rescued’ which got her on her feet, saluting and accepting the dismissal. If some little omega wanted to prove she could rescue a downed comrade, it would be all 6 feet of him. And when she couldn’t because realistically he was a big alpha and she’d have to get him a fair distance under time pressure, well good on her for trying out but back to supporting roles.

He watched as she set her jaw and marched up to the starting line. Hm. He had expected her to throw a tantrum if he was honest, he was very much twisting the rules and she could probably get him into trouble over it. He respected that she didn’t. If it weren’t for those omega pheromones giving away her biology, he’d probably have bet on her making it to the end just from how she held herself when a Captain was clearly out to get her.

As she came running over he found himself pissed off all over again. He shouldn’t be surprised by this point that cushy desk job wankers never thought anything through, but Christ on a bike hadn’t they already figured out that people with different biology needed different kit? They’d given her what he’d guess was for a beta woman, a designation/gender match that was fairly uncommon in the special forces. But omegas carried more weight in their hips and legs, less on their shoulders and back.

To even qualify to try out she’d had to have been serving for at least a few years. Had she been running around in ill-fitting kit that entire time? The weight distribution was all fucking wrong. This bloody military was going to cause omegas permanent damage. Did he think omegas should be in roles that required this kind of kit? No. But that didn’t change the fact that they were in those roles and should be made safe doing them if the government insisted on letting them.

He might be able to stop her from getting into special forces, but she’d go right back to being a combat medic once she’d failed out of the SAS trials. He made a mental note to call Kate and see what pressure she could put on from her end to get the kit looked at. The Americans did have omegas in the special forces so they must have proper kit sorted out.

“Hey! Sitrep sitrep!”

She’d not fallen into any of the traps so far, checking the area and spotting the mock landmines that would have failed her had she missed them in the rush to get to him. He was being extra awful because the victim here was supposed to be in shock but able to move, although he was wondering why she switched out to her handgun and trained it on him when he was supposed to be getting saved. He was playing an unconscious dead weight even as he stared at her. Charu Hale had pretty green eyes and he watched as something dangerous flashed in them.

“I have a man down here” she said after tapping her mic on, checking him for any identifying marks but finding none since he wasn’t geared up, just combat trousers and a compression shirt. “No ID, we missing any friendlies?”

Smart arse. She’d been briefed on finding a woman a half foot shorter than him with glaringly different physical features. He was almost annoyed he hadn’t considered the right thing for her to do was actually to check in instead of going straight for a rescue. Explained the gun still trained on him.

There was a flash of disappointment on her face as she listened to whatever was going on in her ear. The instructor was content to give her a hard time too then, probably saying to retrieve him even though it was clear he was making the test impossible. He hated it, he really hated it, but it was a necessary evil.

“Ok Captain Price, you’re coming with me.”

Well fuck him, he couldn’t help but admire the stubborn determination. Maybe when all was said and done he’d check in when she was on leave just to figure out her scent. On duty everyone was taking military grade scent blockers so he had no clue what she smelled like, but he was curious.

The growl that ripped from him was involuntary. She’d jammed her fingers under his bite collar, same as hers to cover scent glands, and pressed on one of his. Hard. His cock jolted and he grabbed her arm, only freezing when the muzzle of her gun pressed right between his eyes.

“Morning Captain, now that it seems you’re no longer unconscious, why don’t you let me help you to the safe zone. Orders from up top.”

He wanted to shred her to pieces with his damn teeth. His alpha instincts wanted him to rip her bite collar off and sink those teeth right into that pretty throat while he sunk his cock into that sweet omega cunt. Fuck. It had been a while since an alpha urge had hit him quite that hard. But then it’d been a while since he had been this close to an omega.

Thoroughly furious but unable to do anything about it without humiliating himself he let her help him up and to the safe zone, in silence and with a petty amount of his weight on her.

It wasn’t lost on him that as he stormed off his cock was still straining against his pants. Charu Hale huh? She was going to be a massive fucking problem.

[fionatheicicle]

If you are writing a book and you are describing something that is all knowing, the word you need to use is omniscient, not omnipotent.

Omnipotent is all powerful

Omniscient is all knowing.

[jaybirdscoffee]

i think seeing a destiel meme about the election results tomorrow might actually send me over the edge

[semi-sketchy]

The Q&A of the Xenoblade 3 art book leaked and I am. Feeling something.

I think it's annoyance. I don't know if even Takahashi knows what he's cooking at this point.

[genderqueeradrien]

watching austin green's video about the wilbur + gnf allegations and he included clips from gnf's stream and not even fucking joking it is so reminiscent of my fucking title ix hearing. "at no point did i think she was uncomfortable" "im very cautious about consent" "i was shocked that she had such a different idea of what happened" "she said things that made me look bad like that she was frozen in place or that she was scared" "well she smiled at me so i didnt know she was uncomfortable" Like this is all shit that the person who assaulted me said either verbatim or very similarly. and they lost the case BTW they were found guity for everything and in the words of the lawyer -> "[they were] relying on [me] to say "no" rather than ensuring consent at the outset. Based on that alone I find that a reasonable person in [this person]'s position would not have understood they had obtained consent to this activity."

[shame-kink]

cat hacker reintroduces mspec lesbian discourse into my life my brain obliterates itself in ocd-fueled recursive self-argumentation

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

My current laptop is a 2015 model and it’s saying I need to replace the battery (this would be the second or third time I think) and sometimes people are just like “keeping that thing going can end up being more expensive than just buying a new computer” but I’m ride or die with this thing. We’re together until god themself takes its life for the final time. I don’t care if its tenth birthday is coming up, we’re in this mess together, and even when I will one day be forced to get a new computer for outdated software reasons, I’m keeping this bitch until they pass on to computer heaven (because it’s been a good computer but my last personal one is in purgatory and my old highschool laptop is in hell) I used my 2014 (or was it 2014?) phone until the screen started to detach from the frame, don’t test me. I’m too stubborn and autistic.