#I need the car/tow truck sex I DESERVE!!

[mossmx]

in the Cars franchise cars can literally switch bodies due to motor fuckery but smh I can't find 1 good Mater/McQueen car sex fic??

where do I have to look? Do I have to do it myself???

[jumblejen]

We Were Always Going to End Up Together

Suptober 22, Day 25: Flames

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/116233042

(Or read from the beginning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106051008)

Dean started back at Bobby’s a little sore from his week of fun with Cas, from both PG and X rated activities. While occasionally Dean had felt a pang of sadness, or anger, or frustration about Sam, overall it had been an amazing week. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so cared for or relaxed.

Dean had been a bit concerned about going back to work with Bobby, but even that worry seemed small and fleeting up until the day arrived. After filling out the official paperwork for the job, it hadn’t taken him long to get back in the rhythm of the shop. Of course, it also didn’t take long before he realized that sitting at a desk for several years hadn’t done his leg or back muscles any favors. He had a feeling he’d be needing a lot of pain cream and aspirin for a few weeks.

It was all worth it though. Just being back with his hands covered in grease, Dean couldn’t be happier. It felt right fixing things all day, and he loved getting to spend some of the time with Bobby and getting to know the other folks at the shop. They didn’t all love him immediately, though it seemed that they were relieved Bobby had hired more help. And they were more than a little wary about the fact that he was clearly family to Bobby. But after it was clear that Dean wasn’t going to get preferential treatment, and hadn’t turned out to be a douche, they seemed to accept he was a net positive.

Best of all, Dean didn’t have to worry about Adler making a surprise call where he’d inevitably make Dean feel uncomfortable and small. Nope, just cars and coworkers and a couple of runs with the tow truck. It was good first day back.

Cas greeted Dean with a kiss at the front door when he got home. “How was your first day?”

“Not bad. Some basic repairs and had to run the tow truck out some.”

“I made pie.”

“Pie? Oh you are amazing! What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Hmmm,” said Cas as they kissed again in the doorway.

“Gonna let me in?”

Cas moved slightly so that Dean could finish getting in the house, the two of them continually bumping into each other as they both went in for kisses while Dean was still trying to make forward progress. It left them both full of smiles and knowing glances.

“Alright, alright. Should probably warn you now that my back’s not used to being back at this at all.”

“So acrobatic sex is off the table?”

“No sex on the table, man. We eat there!”

“Ha. Ha.”

Dean grinned. “Hey, I was thinking. Did you want to have drinks with Benny this week? I wanna catch up with him some.”

“You’ve still been texting him, right?”

“Yeah. But things got busy after Thanksgiving with the holidays and all. It’s different when you can actually sit down together.”

“You sure you want me to come? I don’t mind if you go just the two of you.”

“Benny not really your cup of tea?”

Cas grabbed one of Dean’s hands. “No. He’s not exactly a kindred spirit, but I do like Benny. I just want to make sure you can still catch up if I’m there.”

“I’ll see if he has time for drinks. Maybe Thursday? I’m off Friday, but then I got hours Saturday morning.”

“Does that mean I have to get up early on Saturday,” groaned Cas.

Dean looked ruefully at Cas. “Nah. You can sleep as late as you want. Hell, I might be done before you even get up. Bobby said that being the new one on the team, I’d need to take Saturdays for awhile. They’ve been short staffed for months now.”

“Is that okay for you?”

“Me? Yeah I don’t care. Kinda nice, shaking up my schedule and all. Plus, it’s not like you have traditional hours either. Some of them have kids, so I know they want that time to spend time with them.”

“I love you Dean Winchester.”

Dean ducked his head and blushed, even after all these months. “Don’t make a big deal. It’s just common decency.”

“Text Benny before you forget and then get washed up. I made dinner too.”

Right on time Dean’s stomach gave a large rumble and they both laughed.

“So what’s it like being back at the garage,” drawled Benny before taking a swig of his beer. The Roadhouse was bustling in a way that made Dean happy, but not so crowded he felt uncomfortable.

“Sore. It hasn’t been that many years, but apparently I gotta get used to being on my feet all day.”

It had been a meandering conversation between the three of them. Cas and Benny didn’t know each other well, and asked each other all sorts of questions. Dean learned more about their early lives than he’d ever known before. Like that Benny’s parents had wanted him to drop the accent so he wouldn’t sound so southern and that Cas had never been to New Orleans, but had traveled quite a bit growing up. Not in the way Dean and Sam had traveled, but actual vacations and seeing the sights. Dean enjoyed listening to them tentatively feeling each other out. Cas was still a little territorial about Dean and Benny was still prone to pushing Cas’ buttons about it. Somehow without speaking about it directly, they both had come to some sort of truce when it came to Dean. As if they both understood that Benny was always going to push and Cas was always going to defend, and that, no matter what, Dean was always going to go home with Cas.

“If the new job’s okay, then what’s bugging you, brother?” Benny’s eyes were full of concern.

Dean sighed, taking a long pull of his beer. “It’s complicated.”

“Sam’s being an assbutt,” said Cas matter-of-factly.

 “Is that so?”

Dean didn’t miss the way that Benny sat forward, on point in a way he hadn’t been the entire night. Dean sighed again. “Look, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Benny reached over and put his hand over Dean’s on the tabletop. “Then we won’t talk about it. Lemme tell you this story about how I got into it with some frat boys after a show last month…”

Dean had thought it would be tougher to dissuade Benny and Cas from bitching about Sam. Cas hadn’t even gotten weird about Benny practically holding Dean’s hand for a minute there. Dean did appreciate Cas’ solid presence next to him. He really wanted to get over the thing with Sam, but while the sting of it had faded, it was still a source of bone-deep sadness.

Dean forced himself to not dwell and instead focus on Benny’s story. And then Dean told a story about the time someone convinced Adler that ‘ttyl’ was secret code used by union organizers and all his employees started posting Eeyore memes to each other to see what would happen.

Dean wasn’t sure how long they’d been there before Sam and Eileen walked through the door, his face in flames at the sight of his brother. Cas and Benny exchanged looks, their previous open and friendly expressions hardened and shuttered at the sight of Sam. Dean took a swig of his beer, and then a deep breath, Cas and Benny both nodding at him in silent solidarity as Dean got himself under control.

They all noticed when Sam realized that Dean was here. At first Dean wondered if he would even bother coming over to speak to him. Sam leaned down to hear whatever Eileen was saying to him and then he started over to their booth, Eileen waving and then slipping onto a stool at the bar.

[puckinghell]

I actually once wrote (privately) a story about a girl who's car died and Willy Nylander was the mechanic who came to get her then they ended up having sex in his shower so like.....I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do with 05 for Willy.

your car slid into a snowbank and i’m the mechanic that comes to tow you (in this AU Willy is obviously not a hockey player) 

–

So, here’s the thing.

You’re a good person. You give money to charities, you let old ladies cross the street. When people behind you in the line at the grocery store have less items than you, you let them go in front of you sometimes. Your dog is a rescue dog. You’re a good person.

Which is why you don’t fucking deserve this. 

“Tough luck, huh?” William says, as he steps out of his car.

And when you say “You have no idea” you mean it. 

Your day started fine, before you got to work this morning. Except when you got there, your computer wouldn’t start, and from then on, everything went wrong. Clients were rude, electronics malfunctioning, and this stupid, never-ending snow.

It had been the snow, that eventually got you. You’re not from Canada and back home, snow is a once in a blue moon experience, and when it does happen, regular daily life simply… halts, until the snow is gone.

Here people still have to work, which means you have to drive. 

And that, apparently, means your car will end up in a snowbank. 

“What happened?” Will asks. 

It would be so easy to make a sarcastic remark, here, but you’re positively miserable, so you decide against it. 

“I don’t know how to drive in the snow.” Truth is, you simply took the car from park to drive and suddenly it was gliding; pressing the brakes did nothing, and your car, tauntingly slowly, slid into the snowbank. 

Will laughs. “Try to look a little more miserable,” he teases. Then, when he sees the look on your face, his eyes soften. “Hey, it’s not that bad, I can tow you home.” 

And oh, the innocence: if only he knew that’s gonna make it so much worse. 

You met Will a few months ago. You work with his brother, Alex, and one day he just showed up at your Friday afternoon meeting - the one that’s always held in the bar next to your work, Duke’s - and ever since then, he’s been showing up sporadically, ruining your Fridays with his handsome face and luscious hair. 

You were aware that Will is a mechanic, but you really didn’t think you’d be unlucky enough to have him respond to your call. 

Should’ve known. 

It wouldn’t be so bad, that your favorite coworker has a really hot older brother, except Will is always chatting to your other coworker, Alice, and never to you, so you’re not delusional enough to think you ever have a chance with him. Which makes looking at him torture. 

“You wanna wait in the truck?” Will offers, motioning to his truck, and you gratefully take him up on it: not only is it hard to look at him and not drool, it’s also pelting down snow, and you’re pretty sure you’re freezing from the inside out. 

Playing on your phone keeps you busy until finally, the door on the driver’s side opens and Will hops in. 

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he mutters, turning up the heating as he starts backing up his truck. “I wasn’t made for the cold.” 

“Aren’t you Swedish?” you ask, and he laughs.

“Well, yeah, but still.” 

It’s a sentiment you wholeheartedly agree with, and the two of you talk about your upbringing a little when you suddenly notice that you’re already turning into your street. 

You narrow your eyes. “Did you take a short cut? I swear it takes me twice as long to get home from work.” 

To your surprise, Will’s cheeks flush red. “Uhm, no,” he says, his voice a little tight, “I actually took a longer way.” 

“Why?” That makes no sense.

He smiles. “Cause I wanted to talk to you a bit more.” 

Oh. 

You cross your arms, raise an eyebrow at him. “You never talk to me at Duke’s.” 

“That’s cause I’m trying to help my brother get a date,” Will grins. 

And suddenly, everything clicks: the way Alice is always looking at Alex when Will talks to her, how Alex is always staring at Alice at the office, when he thinks she’s too busy to notice. 

The truck comes to a halt and Will turns half sideways in his chair, facing you. “If I wasn’t such a good brother, I’d spend all my time talking to you.” 

It’s such a line, but it sounds so stupidly sincere and, well, it’s not like you have any type of willpower when it comes to Will; so you chew your lip before asking: “You wanna come in, for a sec?” 

--

The next morning, you’re sitting in Will’s truck, parked in front of the office, and before you get out, Will kisses you so deeply you can feel it all the way in your toes. When you enter the office, it’s Alex, that shoots you an unamused look.

“Was that my brother’s truck?” he asks.

You shrug, sending him an innocent smile. “My car slid into a snowbank, I needed a lift. Maybe you should slide your car into a snowbank and ask Alice for a lift.” 

And if Alex turns as red as the decorations that Will puts in your Christmas tree that year, well, that’s between you and him. 

[seeaddywrite]

“Everything you think I need isn’t what I need. What I need is you.” take your pic I'll be stoked with anything you write

for you, @ubiestcaelum! i hope you like it :) [also, y’all, just in case: warnings for non-graphic panic attack & references to child abuse & PTSD.]

EDIT: Now with a companion fic from Alex’s POV.

want to send a prompt? 

Michael has no idea how to help Alex on bad days. The airman had been right, when he came to the trailer and pointed out that they don’t really know each other – they’ve never spent a lot of time talking. As teenagers, they had to sneak around to spend time together, and there were far more interesting things to do. And then, well – after that, there was never enough time. They’ve been better about it lately, while trying to learn how to be friends, but Michael still doesn’t know how Alex lost his leg, or what to do when the other man turns pale and withdrawn in the middle of the Wild Pony during a particularly raucous bar fight. 

The crowd is thick and loud around them, talking and laughing as Max’s coworkers haul the two combatants out the front door. Everyone else sitting around their table returns to their conversations; Liz is leaning against Max’s shoulder, laughing at something he murmured in her ear, while Isobel and Kyle Valenti toss verbal barbs back and forth across their beers. And all the while, Alex seems to get smaller and smaller, pulling into himself and 

It blows his mind that no one else seems to notice how Alex has pulled away from the conversation and looks like he’s about to puke. He smiles and nods along when he’s forced, but Michael can see the facade, and the way it seems to slip lower with each passing second. He glances at Liz, hiding it with a long drag from his beer bottle. She’s one of Alex’s best friends; surely, she’d notice Alex’s tension? The way none of his smiles reach his eyes, or the slight trembling in his fingers when he forgets to grip the bottle in his hands tightly enough to hide it? 

But even if Liz knows Alex well enough to pick up on the signs that he’s so good at hiding, she’s too lost in Max to notice tonight. He almost wishes he could be that oblivious … but for the past two months of friendship with Alex, he’s made a study of the man’s tells and nonverbal cues. He has an intimate knowledge of the slope of his shoulders and the lines in his face, and can close his eyes and picture exactly the way Alex looks when he’s relaxed and smiling. It’s a little pathetic, he supposes, his inability to look away from Alex. It’s been made clear, time and time again, that Alex doesn’t want Michael as anything more than a friend, and friends definitely don’t do that sort of thing. But there’s no switch to flip, no way to force himself to let go of the feelings he’s had since the day he stole Alex’s guitar from the music room, and Michael doesn’t think he’d do it, even if he could. 

“Alex?” No one else is going to do anything, and Michael is physically incapable of watching Alex struggle alone right in front of him.  “Hey, you good, man?” He keeps his voice quiet, and leans forward so that only the intended recipient of his whisper will hear. Michael knows enough of who Alex is to know that he wouldn’t want attention brought to the faraway look in his eyes, and he certainly wouldn’t want anyone fussing over him. So, uncertain as he is, Michael shoves his own chair between the others and Alex, shielding him from view with the bulk of his body, and tentatively reaches out to brush his fingertips against the back of Alex’s hand in an effort to get his attention. 

A full-body flinch is the response, and Michael yanks his hand back as Alex finally turns his head to look at him, the motion jerky. Awkward silence falls between them, even as someone turns the music back up on the jukebox in the corner, and Michael rubs at the back of his neck uncertainly. “You want to get out of here?” he asks finally, after another minute of staring, wherein it seems like Alex is trying to say something without opening his mouth, and all Michael can worry about it overstepping one of the many lines that have been drawn between them. 

The responding nod is immediate, if a little uncoordinated. They didn’t come together, but Michael doesn’t think he can just walk Alex to his car and watch him drive off like this. What if he’s too distracted to drive safely? What if there’s something really wrong, and he shouldn’t be left alone? There are too many questions and Michael’s too chicken-shit to ask for the answers. He’s been shoved out of Alex’s life so many times that he’s still recovering from the whiplash, and Michael doesn’t know if he can take another round. But Alex is looking at him with something bordering desperation in his familiar, dark gaze, and Michael isn’t soulless enough to let that look go unanswered. 

“Guys, I’m gonna call it a night,” Michael announces to their assembled friends, standing up from his chair and shoving it back into place beneath the table. 

“Michael Guerin, calling it a night after one drink?” Isobel teases, lifting her lined eyes to his. “No way! Stay here and drink with us!” She’s already pretty drunk, judging by the way her speech slurs and she doesn’t make a single disparaging remark about the bar. Max is going to have a hell of a time getting her home, but he’s got Liz and Valenti for backup, and it’s not like she doesn’t deserve to try to drink her sorrows away after everything she’s been through in the past few months. 

“I’ll see you for dinner at your place tomorrow,” he promises her, leaning forward to brush his lips to the top of her hair. Michael glances at Max while she can’t see him, and his brother nods once, a resigned quirk of his lips obvious only to those who knew him well. He’s as worried about Isobel as Michael is, but nothing but time is going to heal the wounds that Noah left in their sister, and for now, Alex is a more pressing concern. 

He turns back to the other man after he finishes his goodbyes. He’s still pale, but seems to have pulled himself together enough to wave at the others. Then, Alex gestures down at his leg with a small sigh, glancing at Michael and then away, like he’s ashamed of something. “Think you could give me a hand?” The question is quiet and a little strained, but hearing Alex’s voice relaxes Michael a little. At least if he’s still talking, things can’t be that bad. Can they?

Without a word, Michael holds out his hands. Months ago, he would’ve just grabbed him by the waist and pulled him up, relishing in the proximity of their bodies. But things are different now, and the only way he touches Alex now is if the other man makes the first overture. He doesn’t have to wait long; Alex’s shaking fingers wrap around Michael’s steady hands, and he pulls him up out of the chair, automatically taking his weight when he stumbles. Vaguely, Michael hears Max and Liz asking if they need help, but he just waves them off and makes sure Alex is steady before starting toward the entrance of the bar. They’ll have plenty of questions to answer when they face their friends again, and most of them will probably be annoying and nosy, but that’s a problem for later. 

The moment they’re outside, Alex stops pretending that he’s supporting himself and slumps against Michael’s chest in a rare show of vulnerability. His cheek rests against the top of Michael’s shoulder, Alex’s rapid breath making the side of his neck feel humid and sending a ticklish thrill down his spine. “Hey,” Michael murmurs, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do with his hands, now. He can’t let go without worrying that Alex will fall, but part of him is afraid that the longer he holds on, the harder it will be when he has to let go. “You okay?” 

Alex’s responding chuckle is mirthless. “You already know the answer to that,” he says,  the strain of holding casual conversation obvious in his voice. 

Michael doesn’t bother to deny it. “You checked out on us during that fight. You faked it pretty well for a while, but I – I could tell something was wrong.” It’s as close to asking what’s going on in Alex’s head as he’s going to get. “You want me to take you home? Maria won’t let anyone tow your SUV.” Talking so nonchalantly is harder than it should be with Alex’s warmth seeping into him. This is the closest they’ve been since they had sex before that night at the drive-in, and Michael wants to bury his head in the sand and pretend that the proximity isn’t just because Alex is looking for any port in a storm. 

“I can –”

“If you’re about to try to tell me you can drive home, save it. I know you’re a badass, okay? I know you can take care of yourself, and you don’t want me around when you feel like shit because we’re just friends, or whatever your problem is this time. But your hands are shaking, and I’m not letting you drive until I’m sure you’re going to make it the whole way out to that cabin safely.” God, why is it so fucking hard for Alex to let Michael help, just a little? He’s not asking to spend the night! He just wants to make sure he’s safe. Are they really on such bad terms now that he can’t care at all? 

There’s a beat of silence. “I was just going to say that I can send her a text tomorrow and ask her to have someone drive it to the cabin,” Alex says, so quietly that Michael can barely hear it. His entire body has gone rigid, and before Michael can figure out what the problem is, he’s pulling away to stand on his own. “I’d appreciate the ride. If you don’t mind.” 

The formality makes Michael want to rip his hair out of his head, but he bites back a snappish reply and just nods to his truck, parked almost directly in front of them. He wants to ask if Alex can get in on his own; he seems awfully unsteady on his feet, still, and Michael assumes that something has gone wrong with his bad leg, but again, the questions just turn into a lump in his throat. Alex manages on his own, though, rendering that a moot point, so Michael walks around and climbs into the driver’s side silently. 

Neither of them speak for the first ten minutes. Alex spends the time with his hands curled into fists on his thighs, his face pale and drawn in the moonlight that shines through the windshield. He doesn’t seem to be any better now that they’ve left the bar, which Michael had hoped would be enough. But it isn’t, and he’s not able to just leave things this way. “What happened?” he asks finally, the question shattering the tense silence. 

“The guy Hank punched fell on me,” Alex answers abruptly, the words short and terse. “Just for a minute. But my damn leg has been aching all day, and he jolted the prosthetic. It hurts, and I don’t – I can’t –” His breath is coming so rapidly that it sounds like he’s panting, and Michael looks toward him, ready to pull over as soon as Alex gives him a reason. “I panic, sometimes. When it hurts. It’s stupid, and there’s no fucking reason for it, but -”

Michael thinks he gets it. Sometimes, when his hand spasms in the middle of the night, he wakes up sure that Jesse Manes is in the trailer with him. It always takes some time for his heart to stop racing, after that, and he never quite manages to fall back to sleep. Alex’s trauma is so much worse; it doesn’t surprise him that the same thing might happen in his case without the added disorientation of sleep. “Panic doesn’t usually need a reason,” he says evenly. “Anything I can do to help?” 

They’re pulling into Alex’s driveway now, and Michael can practically see his chance to be with Alex and actually do something to help slipping away. Alex will go inside to lick his wounds privately, and Michael will be left on the other side of the door, waiting and wondering and wishing, until he’s forced to give up and leave. 

As soon as the engine turns off, Michael finds himself locked in a staring contest with Alex, who’s eyes have that same desperate and expectant look in them from back at the bar. Michael returns the look helplessly, wordlessly conveying that he doesn’t know what Alex wants or needs from him. “Alex –” 

There’s no time to finish the thought before the other man has his hands in a death grip, clutching so tightly that Michael can feel his fingernails break skin. It makes his bad hand ache a little, but that’s not nearly a good enough reason to pull away from Alex. In fact, Michael could have been bleeding out, and he would’ve still held Alex’s hand. “Don’t make me ask, Guerin.” The whisper catches him by surprise, and Michael’s mouth closes with a surprised snap. “Please?”

“Isobel’s the mind reader, Alex,” he retorts, a hint of defensiveness running through the words despite his best efforts. “I can’t just look in your head to figure out if you need space, or a ride, or hand to hold, or whatever it is you’re angling for right now. You’ve gotta actually say it.”

Alex sighs, and shakes his head. “Everything you think I need isn’t what I need,” he says, and for the first time in the last hour, his gaze is steady. “I mean, maybe the handholding thing would be nice, but I’ve had so much space lately that I can’t stand it. This isn’t going to get any better, Michael.” His fingers tremble around Michael’s hands, and wordlessly, Michael reverses them, so that he’s holding Alex’s clasped palms between both of his, keeping them still. Alex stares down at their entwined hands for a long moment, biting at his lower lip, as if he can’t decide how to finish, or how much he should say. 

“I’ve been trying to stay away from you until I get my head together, because I don’t know that I can be what you need, right now. And it’s not fair for me to keep running away every time you help me keep it together. I’m a fucking mess, and I don’t – Jesus, Michael, some days I can’t even get out of bed. What kind of man does that? What kind of boyfriend could I be? But –  I think, maybe –  what I need is you. If there’s even still a chance of that.” 

Michael just stares at Alex for a long moment, trying to put that speech and its ramifications into the boundaries and lines drawn between him and Alex. It doesn’t fit, it doesn’t make sense – but it does, at the same time. Because of course Alex thinks he’s a mess. Of course Alex has been struggling since he lost his leg. It’s so ingrained in Alex to think that’s he’s the problem, that his issues are an inconvenience thanks to his fucked-up, psychopathic father – and Michael should have known that. He should have been here a long time ago, rather than sulking about his broken heart. 

But he’s here now, and he can’t change the past. 

“Ask me,” he says, bringing Alex’s hands up to press his lips to shaking fingers. “Just ask, Alex.”

Uncertainty wars with hope in Alex’s eyes, and Michael wants to reassure him, to tell him to forget the words, and just take him inside and wrap him up in his arms, if that’s what Alex wants. But there’s a chasm between them, put there by years of mistakes and harsh words on both sides, and Michael needs to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what Alex’s expectations are. What he wants. Because if he fucks this up now, Michael doesn’t know if he’ll be able to come back from it. 

“Stay,” Alex says finally, his voice cracking. “Just – stay.” His hands break free of Michael’s and scrabble at his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer, or maybe hold him there, like he’s afraid the word will send him running. And Michael doesn’t hesitate; he leans awkwardly over the center console and hugs Alex tightly, ignoring the damn thing as it pushes into his side. 

“You’re okay,” he promises, one hand cradling the back of Alex’s head while the man burrows into the space between his shoulder and neck, his entire body trembling. “Just breathe, Alex. I’m not going anywhere.” 

There’s more to be said, he knows, but Michael isn’t cruel enough to make Alex spell it all out tonight. He got what he needed; for now, he’s going to give Alex what he asked for. And maybe, when all’s said and done, they can keep each other from falling apart. 

[bree-sasbdb]

Another Saturday Night.... joy.

Talia

Despite the warning from @PegLegPhury I couldn’t help myself. I still craved the experiences of the normal world. I did not understand the concerns, mortal females went out without an accompaniment. Why couldn’t I? 

I wanted to be normal, hell part of me wished I could feel like a normal chosen and take more fulfillment in my duties and be content. But I needed to see more, do more. I decided I needed to get our again. 

The mated pairs had gone off and the unmated had gone out. I didn’t have a long window before someone would come “check in” with the chosen or as I called it babysit. 

I looked up a dance bar that had good reviews. Since I was still pretrans it would be a bit of a walk and a cab ride- but I didn’t mind. 

I found a pair of tight jeans and top. Since I was going to dance I wanted to be a bit more comfortable. I pulled on thigh high boots that made my legs even longer. After a quick toss of my hair I checked the mirror. I was ready. 

During the distraction I went through the halls and out the front door. I was ready to forget the empty feeling I had. 

The walk went faster than I estimated and soon found myself calling the cab company.

A quick drive later and we pulled up outside and my face fell.

It wasn’t exactly the dance club I expected. The place was what the mortals called a strip club. I huffed and let myself out of the cab. I walked to the doors and was surprised when I did not have to pay a cover.

I spoke to myself- “well here’s one experience to check off the list” and I pushed the door to the main room open.

Si

I told my security that I wanted to hit up Zero Sum tonight. I had 5 Mercedes Benz GLS in tow. I was in one of them. Bullet Proof, Sun windows, rocket proof. Took no chances with my life. Being one. Who supplied weapons you didn’t take chances.

Shadow was good people and I had arranged a vip section with him.  Getting out of my truck after opening the door. I stood out and button my coat. The doorman knew who I was. I was walked in and escorted to my section.I went into the vip section and took a seat. I ordered a whiskey nea and leaned back watching

Talia

After just a few short moments in the strip club I was more than done with that experience. It felt wrong to be there, and I couldn’t dance- well not without removing my clothing and I was not prepared for that. I exited the strip club and shuddered before I called another car to come pick me up. 

A short drive after I was back at Zero Sum, a place I knew much better. I relaxed as I walked in. Before I got too comfortable I scanned the area for any of the Brothers. 

I was in the clear. I ventured further and made my way to the bar. I leaned against it as I waited for my drink to come. One of the other patrons, a well dressed male, slid up beside me and offered to pay for it. 

I thanked him and went to the dance floor to start having a little fun dancing.

Si

My eyes noticed thru my sunglasses this rather strange bird coming thru the club. Tall and long legged. Chocolate looking too. Wondering who she was. I told the waitress I wanted another whiskey from her. She left to get me another one.

Bree

Man I needed to get out of the house I was going stir crazy but I had Kiehran. After everything Joshanah's parents had done for me I felt bad asking them to watch him. I was just gonna have to suck it up because I needed out. Taking Kiehran I went to find them them.

Talia

I felt eyes on me, I spun around and saw a male that oozed danger. I locked eyes and began a staring match. I only break when @Bree_Sasbdb bumps into me.

Instead of being mad that my drink hit the ground I just start laughing loudly. “Well Hello!”

Bree

*After Joshanah's parents agreed to watch Kiehran I hurried to change and get out. As I enter the club I was a bit self conscious though I had dressed to be noticed. Walking across the dance floor I bumped into someone. Turning I realized it was a pretrans* Sorry my fault.

Si

*The waitress hasn’t returned with my drink yet. I was mildly annoyed and it looked like at the bar a traffic jam between chocolate and a blonde. It seemed someone wasn’t watching where they were going.*

Talia

Still laughing I put my hand on the blonde female’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. I was just having a staring match with that guy up there.” 

pointing at The gangster looking Si 

“I’m the Cho..... I’m Talia. Just Talia.” Hoping the female didn’t hear me nearly say Chosen.

Bree

*Turning to look where she points, smiling as I turn back to her as I barely catch her name because of the music* He's kinda hot from what I can see of him. I'm Bree. It's nice to meet you Talia.

Si

Apparently I’m being pointed to. I arched a brow seeing the ladies jaw jacking between one another. I tell one of the boys to grab my drink at the bar. Seems my waitress got lost. “Pablo go get us our drinks.”

Talia

“Nice to meet you too Bree hope to see you around, you seem nice” 

Continuing to dance. Another guard attempts to move past me, He straggles for a moment and his hand lands on my hip. 

“‘No thanks” I say, move away.

He grabs me again. Out of self-protection I punch his throat.

Bree

Hope to see you too. *As I turn to head to the bar I see a guy heading towards her. I keep my eye on her as I make my way to the bar. As I see her punch him I chuckle to myself thinking good for her. When my turn arrives at the bar I tell the bartender I want a Sex on the Beach.*

Si

*I noticed the pretrans punch my guard for putting his hands on her inadvertently. I thought what I dumbass. I’ll have to figure out how to get rid of him.” Miguel, go ask the two ladies to join me and get me a drink. Don’t touch them, ask nicely.” I said sternly.

Talia

After a few more moments, another guard walks up gains my attention. He explains boss wants to see me and Bree in the VIP area. “He has to buy me a drink.” I laugh and head up while the male goes to Bree. When I get there I speak to Si, not knowing his background. “Hi, I’m Talia”

Bree

As I wait for my drink I look around and I notice Talia leaving the dance floor. Just then look to him* Hi I'm Bree. *Turning towards Talia I smile.*the bartender returns with my drink. I turn around to move away from the bar and almost run smack into a guy. He apologizes then tells me that his boss would like to join him. When he points out the guy Talia and I had discussed I look over and see Talia joining him. I nod and head that way myself. As I'm walking a guy tries to grab me but I catch his hand and tell him if he wants to keep using it he won't touch me. He walks away. When I reach the table I look to him* Hi I'm Bree. *Turning towards Talia I smile.*

Si

Hello ladies. *I stand up and shake each ones hand* Names Si, and please whatever you want is on my tab. Also nice hook Talia.

Talia

Beaming, Phury would be proud. “Thank you Si. I have trained some.” 

I sat in a chair and reviewed the menu for the VIP booths. “Hello again Bree” smiling at her. 

Seeing the guard I punched, staring him down as he glared at me.

Bree

Hello *After shaking Si's hand I walk around the table and sit in the chair between him and Talia.* It was a nice shot. *I look over at the guard and chuckle as I see him glaring at Talia*

Si

*I look at Pablo and eye him.* “You touched her inappropriately, what did you think she was going to do? Dance and fuck you. She’s a pretend you idiot. Go out and protect the cars since you can’t keep your hands to yourself. “ He headed off in a huff. “I must Pologize for him”

Talia

“You don’t need to apologize for him, he needs to learn” still glowering at him. 

Hollering out at Pablo, “what you want a nose job next? Phury taught me how to punch I can use more practice!” 

I start laughing unable to keep a straight face. “So Si, why did you invite us up?”

Bree

*When Talia hollered at Pablo I try to hide my surprise. Thinking she can't be talking about the rumored Brother or that maybe I hadn't heard her right. I recover quickly and look at Si* I was wondering the same thing.

Si

I saw you both staring at me and then of course my guard putting his hands on Talia like that. I thought I’d invite you over.

Talia

“That’s kind of you. So why do you need guards?”

Sucking down the drink that arrived. Wondering if these vampires will be able to be considered my friends after this, give me someone to talk to outside the mansion and chosen camps.

Bree

*Finishing my first drink as the waitress arrives with refills* Must be something important what with the guards and all. Please don't keep us in suspense.

Si

Let’s just say. I’m an important person around this place. Now what would you ladies like to drink?

Talia

“I’ll have what she’s having” pointing at Bree’s sex on the beach. “It looks delicious.” 

Looking around as the music thumps. “Well Si, Mr. Important... I really want to say thank you for inviting us up. I haven’t been able to really be up here, it’s usually occupied.”

Bree

It's a Sex on the Beach, Talia. *Glancing around at the VIP section* It is nice. I haven't been out in forever and I've never been up here.

Si

I’m not one of those types. That feel cause of their status others can’t have folks join them regardless of who they are or what their story is.

Talia

Smiling as I hear both. 

“Why haven’t you been out Bree? Everyone deserves fun. Si it’s so refreshing, usually I have to take off when some arrive.” 

Skipping over that I can’t be here when the brotherhood is there due to me being the pretrans, chosen, and not escorted

Bree

I hate people who think there better then others because they have money. I lost my family about 6 months ago. Between mourning and caring for my nephew I've been busy. But tonight I needed a break from everything. I'm glad I came out and got to meet you both.

Si

It’s always good to get a break from things. I do also need a break from my usual way of life. Zero Sum is a great place except, for the beating of the noise in here. *A waitress came by and I have an order for Sex on the beaches for the ladies and a Corona Premier for me.*

Talia

Still looking around when the waitress comes, her obvious desire for Si was pretty extreme. I could smell it even as a pretrans. 

After she left I laughed softly. 

“Careful Si, I think you found a fan in that one.” 

I relax back into the chair. Observing the bar, it wasn’t bad having this vantage point, but from up here I could see several more guards placed around the bar dressed similarly to Pablo and Miguel. 

“Do you always go ready for war to a bar?” 

Who was this male really? He seemed more dangerous than any of the guard.

Bree

*Glad that they both seemed to let the comment about my family pass as I wasn't ready to talk about it much. It killed me to even say the words. Accepting my drink from the waitress I take a drink wondering who Si really was with as much protection as he had with him tonight.*

Si

“I’m always ready for war. You never know what is going to happen when we step out. Lessers are everywhere. One can’t be too careful.” Hoping that deflects the questioning of what he does. Obviously he was well off. It’s wise to keep them away from what he did. He dealt in secrecy was his business.

Talia

A song comes on I just can’t sit still for. I wiggle in my seat. 

“Does anyone feel like dancing?” 

I bite my lip still thinking about Bree’s comment. I wanted to comfort her, but that would require me revealing a little more to these new people. We were still strangers they didn’t exactly need to know I was a Chosen. They might not believe me, and they might tell Phury. Just because I didn’t know them, doesn’t mean The brothers didn’t.

Bree

*Wanting to clear my mind Talia's question is perfect timing* Yeah I do. Si, what about you? *Looking over to the male* Do you dance?

Si

*Arches a brow and I look to my entourage. They were smirking.. “Yeah wipe the poke off your faces.” I turned and looked at the ladies. “I cut a rug or two. Or have been knew too.” He grinned taking them both by the hand. “Shall we?”

Talia

Laughing as the guys hoot and holler. I give my hand to Si with a laugh. 

“I hope i can keep up.” 

I watch some of the guards change positions and some are listening into ear pieces. 

I look to Bree and hope she comes too. I just have the feeling she needs a friend.

Bree

*Smiling I stand up and take his hand as I walk around the table.* I think he'll be the one trying to keep up with us. *Laughing as we make our way to the dance floor.*

Si

*laughs as I let your hands go. I tell the DJ to play Return of Los Tres. I close my eyes and let the music come to me. Then I begin to start moving. Galloping my legs then moving my hips around. Then moving like a robot some to song. Then doing a tilt And the a flip, landing on the floor and then spinning to a stop with my arm on my knee holding my head as the music stops.” HOWS THAT?

Talia

Impressed by Si’s ability to dance I clap after he asks how he did. 

“Impressive” 

I wiggle my hips to the beat with Bree and spin her then myself. The thoughts of the chosen camp far away, I felt normal for once.

Bree

*Grinning when Si asks how he did* That was impressive. *Laughing when Talia spins me and letting the music flow through me as I start moving my body sensuously.*

Si

*Watches the females start their slow steady sensuous dancing. Both had the hips to get a males blood up.* Work it ladies

Talia

My hips continue to wind to the beat. Strangers start to watch our trio of dance

I am just jubilant at how the night has gone. Not stuck, no danger, and fearless. 

Spinning again, my hair falls around my back and as a tease I caress Si’s cheek- then turn and do the same to Bree

Bree

*Seeing a human male heading in my direction I move closer to Si and continue dancing sensuously. Bumping into him and to steady myself I grab his arm.*

Si

*I see her look in the direction of the human male. I pull you in and just dance against you. Letting the human male that he best think twice of cutting in*

Talia

Not even seeing the human male until Si has Bree pulled close. They look cozy and the human sensed danger and changed his direction away from Bree.  

I guess humans could sense the danger. Si certainly wasn’t one to be trifled with.

Bree

*Shifting my dance style just a bit when Si steps into me but continuing to dance sensuously. Double checking the human and seeing him turn around. Reaching out to take Talia's hand so the three  of us are dancing together.*

Si

*The male turns back to sit with his posse. I give a signal to my guards to pay the guy a visit and advise him to not touch these or any others unless the contact is welcome. Jorge and Jesus move quickly. I turn back to enjoy the dance with the two lovelies.*

Talia

Only vaguely seeing the security move, I am more focused on the fun to be had. 

Snapping to attention when I hear a commotion at the door. Three of the trainees were on their way in, luckily they hadn’t met me but I had seen them. 

“I think.... I think I need to go.”

Bree

*Looking around to see what spooked Talia as she quickly walks away. Hoping she's okay as I unconsciously turn and put my arms around Si's neck.* Hope she's alright.

Si

*Notices that in walked in a few Chosen females and oddly noticed Talia scattering to hide. Then I put two and two together. Putting my hands on Brees hips while we dance. “I just hope she doesn’t go into the wrong door”

Talia

The doors confuse me, I don’t want to hide in the bathroom because I could still be found I choose the private rooms. I duck into the last door. 

I hyperventilate for a moment before the door is opened. I assumed it was Bree or Si. “I’ll be out in a minute....” looking up from the panic attack and see it’s the human that approached. 

“So how much do you charge sweet thing?” He asked.

“Excuse me?” I thought I misheard him.

“How much?” He repeats.

Without realizing he moved close enough his hand wrapped around my back as if I had agreed to him. Oh Scribe no!

I shoved him off just as the door was opening again, and quickly my fist connected with his nose, the tell tale sign of crunching bone and blood spurting let me know I broke his nose.

He screamed in pain, and I noticed a guard from Si’s platoon was laughing at the scene before him. 

“Easy Tiger, can I escort you back out? We were all worried about you when you ran.”

Shaking a bit from free adrenaline. I gulp. Well, if the trainees saw me and reported it they would have done it already. Plus they never met me, how would they know?

Bree

The wrong door could lead to trouble. *Realizing that I like being close to this male I close the little bit of distance there is between us.*

Si

*He smiled letting her close the distance between them. I see the male going into the private room and I shake my head realizing that Talia went into the sex rooms. “That human is going to be in for a world of hurt. “ He next hears a question then a punch and the male tumbling Out of the private room. I chuckle and then go back to dancing with Bree.

Talia

Shaking my hand out the security I assume Si sent goes with me to the bar to get ice for my hand. 

I look out and see Bree and Si have gotten closer. I smile. They were both new to me, yet both kind. It was nice. I asked for two napkins and a pen. I wrote my name and number on both and gave the pen back. The guard escorted me back to Si and Bree. He laughs as he tells Si what happened. “She’s scarier than we are boss, maybe you should hire her. She has a good left hook.” He goes back to find the human to “discuss” further with him.

Bree

You have a nice laugh. *Looking up at you* I get the feeling you don't laugh a lot though. *When Talia come back over to us I reach out and take her hand* Are you okay? You left so fast.

Si

Sadly most of the time I’m very serious. I suppose it’s the nature of my business. *I smile looking down at you. Holding you still as we dance some more.* Looks like the human didn’t like the service Talia was offering.

Talia

Taking Bree’s hand for a moment. Deciding to come clean. I hand them both a napkin. 

“I hope you will think of me as a friend.” Putting the ice back on my hand.  “And no he wasn’t happy with his punch.” I smile at him. 

“The reason I freaked out was because I am a pretrans but not just that, I am also a chosen. I am not supposed to be here at all, let alone without a member of the Brotherhood with me.”

Nervously I chew my lip. Wondering if they’ll be upset. 

“I was afraid they would call Phury and he would come take me home.”

Bree

He deserved it. *Taking the napkin then coming to a complete stand still, shocked as you say your a Chosen.* Wow a Chosen really? As far being your friend absolutely yes!

Si

He smirked looking over at Talia; he was correct on that suspicion when she came clean on who she was. “I thought I smelt chosen on you. Don’t worry you’re safe here and I won’t say noting. Can I be friends too?”

Talia

A grin spread across my face. “You don’t mind that I’m a chosen?” 

I pull both of the newfound friends into a hug unable to hide my excitement. “So how are you two getting along? You looked pretty cozy.”

Bree

I don't mind in the least. Just because your a Chosen doesn't mean you don't need friends. *Wrapping one arm around her when she hugs us. Thinking I'm glad that I came out tonight and met these two. With everything that had happened it was nice to feel something again that wasn't related to sadness, loneliness, anger or fear. I realized at that moment that perhaps I would be okay.* Thank you both for being here tonight and thank the scribe virgin that I met you both. Giving Talia's hand a squeeze and kissing Si on the cheek.* I really needed this.

Si

*He smiled at the kiss on the cheek. He looked up at the two of them. He nodded “ I did enjoy also meeting the two of you.  I enjoyed our dance Bree and Talia. Plus the shenanigans.” He laughed then said. “Why don’t we go sit down have a few more drinks, maybe some food too? Truth is I don’t want to head back to my place yet.”

Talia

I didn’t want to leave yet either. I give each of them a hand. “I am starving, punching people makes a female starved.” Laughing and going back to the VIP with my newfound friends. Sitting closer with them than before.

Bree

*Grabbing my drink as soon as we reach the table and taking a drink as I sit down* I not ready to head home either although I have a big night ahead of me tomorrow. Besides it seems that the fun is just starting. *Smiling as I look at you both.*

Si

*Smiles watching them both sit down and lean back against the seat. Ordering another r whiskey and a sex on the beach.* The fun is indeed just starting. *laughs and smirks*

Talia

I lean into the others for a moment. This was necessary and possibly meant to be. 

“I am so glad I came out.”

Bree

It's nice to have an actual conversation with grown-ups. My 7 month old nephew isn't up for conversations yet. *Smiling as I think of Kiehran.* As much as I love him I need time for myself as well. I’m still trying to get the handle on doing everything. I'm hoping when I get moved things will get better. It's been a hard adjustment period. *Frowning and realizing that I'm being a downer* Sorry didn't mean to put a damper on things.

Si

You’re taking care of a sister or brothers child? That’s deep down the most honorable thing to do. I know how to feels to be raised by someone of not your birth parents. That’s a story for another time. *smiles and take a sip of my whiskey.*

Talia

Looking at his whiskey. I wave the waitress over and ask for 3 shots of it. When she returns.

“I think we all just have that in common, and I want to toast to us, and our friendship” I lift the small glass. “Salut” 

The night was needed. “Maybe I can meet your nephew one day.”

Bree

He's my brother's. Your right that is definitely a story for another time. *Accepting the shot and raising it for the toast* Salut *Downing the shot and putting the glass back on the table.* I would like that. Maybe once I get settled in you could come visit.

Si

*He lifted his shot and saluted them both. Taking a back hit of the shot.* Indeed, how about we up the ante to tequila and lime or vodka?

Talia

Drinking games with a mafia type man. What could go wrong? I laughed. “Sounds good to me. Tequila?” Looking at Bree for her choice.

Looking deeper, Bree really had a heart of gold.

Bree

Sure I'll take some Patron. Why not? *Smiling at both of you* We might as well throughly enjoy ourselves tonight. I might pay for it in the morning when my nephew starts crying but I don't care. *Leaning back in my chair laughing.*

Si

*laughs and orders shots of Patron. Letting the waitress come over with the drinks. She eyed me seductively.* Sorry sweets if you think I’m taking home and fucking your. You’re sorely mistaken. I’m not into the hired help. *He took his shot and waited on the ladies.*

Talia

“Damn.” Si was blunt, more so than the brotherhood. It was familiar, yet Phury did not like when the males cursed near the chosen. And he loathed it when we started to curse too. 

After the waitress walked away I stifled my giggle and took the shot quickly. “Fuck that’s smooth.”

Bree

*Smirking as the waitress walked away. Taking my shot and putting the glass down* That's why I like Patron. It's smooth.

Si

Patron, I order top shelf. Not the cheap stuff that has three fingers worth of darn water in it. *He smiled as another round was brought to us.* Sorry for my filthy mouth and directness to the waitress. I just get tired of them wanting a tip more than what they are worn.

Talia

I can’t help but laugh, “I think she wanted more than the tip.” 

Stretching out and taking the shot offered to me. Thoroughly enjoying it, not having to worry or act incredibly proper. I was able to be me and enjoy. I felt the depression lifting, or was that the Patron?

Bree

I agree with Talia it wasn't a tip she was after. *Laughing* She was looking to have you as her tip. Have to say I can't blame her on that though. *Shocking myself at my bluntness and for having said that outloud. Blushing as I look away trying to be casual about it.*

Si

*I nodded my head.* They do that everytime. I guess some seem to think that a decent looking male coming here wants to fuck the waitress. I’m not lookin for door knobs. *My eyes go wide open from Bree’s comment catching me off guard as I cough from my drink.* I look over at Bree trying to hide her embarrassment with her blush. He smiled.* Thank you for saying so.

Talia

Blinking as the two connect further. I giggle as Bree is embarrassed. I know it’s obvious I want to give them a minute. I make an excuse “I am going to go get our next round so Miss Waitress with an attitude doesn’t come back” 

Slipping from the VIP lounge and down to the bar.

Bree

You're welcome. *Taking the shot that I had been holding. I look at Talia as she gets up and leaves for the bar. Part of me is happy but I'm also nervous at being alone with him. Looking over I find that he is looking at me. Blushing again* I'm not usually so outspoken.

Si

*He smiled at her. Looking at her for a moment. Taking in her eyes and features. Having not expecting to meet such an attractive female nor meeting new friends. He spoke.* I think you tend to more then you realize. In any case I find it an attractive part of females.

Talia

Turning and looking back as I wait. Happy that the two look so comfortable together. Wanting to take my time. I look at a food menu and speak to some of the humans near me to ask their opinion on what to eat.

Bree

Perhaps I do. *Smiling. Thinking about how nice it is being with him.* Probably has something to do with not being raised in typical Glymera fashion. My father encouraged me to have an opinion on things as well as teaching me to defend myself. All things that are frowned upon.

Si

Are you a daughter of a glymera? *I asked curiously* My parents were poor and I was into the gangs during my years of my transition. They had kidnapped a chosen for me to feed during my transition. I have a lot of respect for them but not so much the Glymera.

Bree

Technically yes but my father and grandfather had other ideas when it came to me. As the only girl, by Glymera standards, I should of been locked away. Instead I was encouraged to be independent. More than once others tried to convince my father of that but he just told them to raise their kids as they saw fit and he would do the same. My mahmen was of the same mind. I'm grateful for it now that I'm without them. I don't know where I'd be if not for that. *Smiling* It seems you've turned things around for your self. That must not have been easy.

Si

It wasn’t at first. We were all reckless and no sense of direction. Raiding the sanctuary so long ago before the way things were. Very dangerous. Pissing off the Scribe wasn’t smart by no sense of the stretch. Snatching a chosen from the sanctuary and keeping her from the rest.

I didn’t know so much then. I did my best to learn, I wasn’t educated since Mahmen and Father died before I transitioned. Growing up and pillaging gylmera and humans a like. When I was strong enough I challenged the leader for The right to run them. I ended his life in about a minute. I got rid of others that didn’t want to follow me. I began a plan to turn it into a business. I have my fingers in many pots. That’s why I have bodyguards. Loyal to me.

Bree

It's admirable that you changed it after taking over. *Wondering again what exactly his business is but realizing that it doesn't really matter* My grandfather always said that business could be more ruthless then the war. It's good to have loyal people around you.

Si

It is more ruthless than war. Lot of politics involved. Though not everything behind the scenes is what people think happen. I have my ways. Some would frown upon them. The ends justify the means. I am a gangster and a businessman all in one.

Talia

To keep myself preoccupied while Bree and Si talk privately I accept a human’s request to dance. He takes my hand and leads to the dance floor, he’s cocky and dances very close to me. 

I keep my eyes on the surroundings to maintain my safety. I just hope the conversation is good.

Bree

I can understand that. I don't know a lot about how everything works but I know my father tried to be honest. His business partner on the other hand is a complete louse. Unfortunately I still have to deal with him as he's in control of my family's estate until I marry.

Si

Maybe if you can get me his information I can pay him a visit. I don’t much care for people that hold things over innocent people heads. I have a way about me. He’ll know me. Just mention my name. If he doesn’t you let tell and I’ll visit him personally.

Talia

Trying not to be too nosy as I dance. The human pulls me closer and it feels ice to be held. I know it’s nothing more than human hormones with the male wanting to dance, but it’s nice. 

After two more dances I go to the bar to get drinks and take back to the VIP. 

“Hey! Sorry it took so long. Someone wanted to dance.” Now realizing I don’t even know the mortal’s name.

Bree

I'll keep that in mind, for now though I can handle him. *Smiling as I reach over and giving his hand a squeeze* I appreciate the offer. *Looking up when Talia returns with the drinks* Don't worry about it. Did you have fun?

Si

*He smiled and accepted the hand squeeze giving a slight squeeze back.* Its there if you ever need it. *I turn to see what Talia has done.* I hope you didn’t tease that boy too badly. *laughs*

Talia

At Si’s comment I look out and see the human staring up at us. I smile “I didn’t mean to, but it looks like I did.” I look down.

“I’ve never really been a flirt like that. I didn’t mean to.” I feel a little bad about the situation.

Bree

*Seeing Talia's expression wanting to reassure her* It's probably the alcohol. Have you drank much before? It happens. It's nothing permanent. Some males take flirting for more then that.

Si

She’s right. Males of the human mind do that a lot. Drink and get drunk then get horny dancing. He’ll be ok.

Talia

“I do drink just not usually so much so fast, and I tend not to do it often because of a few reasons” thinking to myself mainly the chosen thing. 

The human looks forlorn when I don’t return but he looks for other females. 

“He was kind of pressing his little warrior against me”

Bree

They tend to do that a lot especially if you don't stop them right away. Have you had anything to eat tonight? Drinking on an empty stomach the alcohol tends to hit faster and harder. *Looking at Si and smiling* I think we should cut her off for the night. What do you think?

Si

Yes, before she passes out and we have to carry her out. I don’t think the Primale will be too happy. Talia no more alcohol *laughs*

Talia

I pout but agree, for now. I smell the food before I see it. “It’s coming!” Almost giddy when food arrives. “I ordered crab-spinach-artichoke dip and pretzel bites.” I really enjoyed food and tended to over indulge.

Bree

Yes I think that's definitely for the best. *As the waitress sets the food down I snag a pretzel bite as I look around* It must be close to closing time. *Looking at my watch* Damn I'm not ready to head home yet. But the night won't last forever.

Si

It’s getting close to that time. -Chuckled and took a bite of the pretzel with the artichoke dip- I hope you are able to get home safely when we do leave.

Talia

“I’ll be safe. I promise. It’s not a bad cab ride or walk.” I shrug. I should actually get going. I know the males usually returned home soon and if I wasn’t there Phury wouldn’t have to guess at if I snuck out. And I would have another lecture waiting for me...

Bree

I'm catching a cab home too. *Grabbing a couple more pretzel bites and looking around. A male on the dance for catches my eye. It's Trahern, I can't hide the shiver that goes through me. I'm glad he hasn't noticed me yet and I hope he doesn't see me at all. Turning back around and slide my chair closer to Si to make sure he can't catch sight of me if he looks up. Shaking my head* Damn just my luck.

Si

He noticed that Bree’s demeanor had changed and stated to move closer to me like she had saw a ghost. He didn’t know what was going on. “Bree what’s wrong?”

Talia

Following her gaze. I see the male. “Who is that?” I ask sobered by the sudden change from the carefree and happy Bree to a bundle of nerves. “What did he do?”

Bree

Oh...hes my father's business partner's son. Since the day I was born his father assumed we would be mated. I begged my father not to approve it because he is a addict, abusive and not against using force on women. Luckily my father had heard the rumors about him and refused the mating. His partner was furious. So technically he hasn't done anything to me but I don't trust him as far as I could throw him.

Si

It would seem that you have a bit of closure still open. I can have my people help you to a cab if it would make you more comfortable? You don’t look overly trusting of him.

Talia

A few words set me off, knowing so many females were abused by mates upset me and the Dutch courage I had ingested made the anger even worse. 

“Excuse me.”

Without warning I get up and find the male. I put my hand on his shoulder, when he turns around he seems pleasantly surprised it’s a female who looks like me. Drunkard puts his hands on my hips and grinds. Ugh! He reeked of booze. 

“This is for the females you’ve put your hands on.” As hard as I could I kneed him in the balls. His eyes bulge and he gasps for air as he falls to his knees and he grabs for me. I hop backwards and grin back deviously at the two in VIP. 

A security guard grabbed my arm “it’s time for you to cool it little lady.” He walked me to the front door. I wave my goodbye to my friends as I am 86’d for the fights.

Bree

*Smiling at Si* I would appreciate that, thank you. *watching as Talia leaves the table I see her walk up to Trahern. Laughing when she knees him but sad when she gets escorted out of the club.* Guess she hit her quota for fights tonight. *Laughing as The DJ calls Last Call.*

Si

*I just shook my head and chucked. Seeing that Talia had one thing of piss and vinegar left in her.* I guess he’s deserving of that for all the others. His pride is wounded. He’ll want revenge cause he was embarrassed. Oh well, he has no balls to try if he does I’ll hear of it and well. Daddy will get a present on his front door. *He smiled standing up and taking my card.* Here’s my card call me sometime after tonight? 

Bree

*Accepting the card as I stand up* I'll do that. *Taking the napkin that Talia had given him and the pen he offers me, I write my name then my number down.* Feel free to give me a call sometime. Smiling as I had both items to you.*

Si

*I smile taking your napkin and my pen. Putting it in my jacket pocket. I have my guards help escort us out and making sure you can get a cab. I help you in and I pay the driver. Smiling at you.* Let me know you made it ok? *She smiled and the cab drive off I got into my SUV of 5. I shut the door and we are off to my place out by the docks.*

Bree

*Once I tell the driver the address I sit back smiling to myself. I make sure the card is in my clutch. 

The driver pulls up to the house and I get out. Once inside I go check on Kiehran then go to my room. Before I take a shower I text Si* I'm home safe. Thank you for a lovely evening. Perhaps we can do it again some time. *I also send a text to Talia* Tonight was fun. We'll have to get together again soon. *I put my phone on the nightstand and headed into the bathroom.*

#SaintsNSinners

#SASBDB 

#BDB

[desperate-entwives]

before midnight

memori week day seven: free choice

cw: abusive relationship, mention of past abuse  

John Murphy is driving to prom when his car breaks down.

It isn't his prom. It's his girlfriend’s prom. He doesn't even want to go, but truthfully his girlfriend kind of scares the shit out of him. The idea of willingly spending time with people who went to school with him (albeit the year below him) scares him too, but not as much as his girlfriend does.

But when his car lurches through the pothole, a broken tin can being yanked by superglue, maybe he relaxes his shoulders a little. Maybe he breathes a small sigh of relief.

Maybe he realizes he doesn't have a fucking cellphone and probably wants to get out of this pothole eventually, or sometime in the next day maybe.

A car drives by, and then another one. He stares blankly at them and then thinks, oh. Help. I should get help?

When he waves at the next passing vehicle, it's halfhearted. But it pulls over. A sizable pickup truck manned by a smallish woman, who jumps out and wipes her gloved hands on her jeans.

“Stuck, huh?”

“Nah, just doing this for fun,” he says without thinking. She lets out a surprised laugh and he wonders why she's surprised, and then he realizes her face is soft and hard at the same time, the kind of face that has seen shit and still manages to care about shit.

“I'll call my brother,” she says. “He works for a tow company.”

“Lucky me,” he says, almost meaning it. He should think what are the odds. He's too busy trying not to think of what he'll say to Ontari, how he'll have to make it up to her, the pointless sex stuff he never feels like doing that he'll probably end up doing anyway. In trying not to think about these things, he watches the woman take it her phone, the awkward way she cradles it against her face with her left hand, the zoom of a headlight past on the highway and how it briefly glints in her hair. He has always romanticized being saved. He hates this about himself.

“It's gonna take about an hour,” she says. “Think your ball can wait, Cinderella?”

He is wearing a tux. He thinks fast, wanting for some stupid reason to impress her. She's wearing ripped jeans and a work shirt. Her hair is messy and knotted and braided, and she is somehow luminous in the darkness.

“I'll try to keep both my shoes on,” he says.

---

The woman's brother is grim and quiet and has scars on his face and drags Murphy's car to his mechanic, which is closed, of course. The car looks small and tired and crumpled in that parking lot, and if that isn’t a metaphor for something, well.

“I have to get back,” the man says to the woman and Murphy realizes he doesn't know either of their names. The man looks at his sister pointedly. “And so do you.”

“It can wait, Otan,” she says. “No,” he says. “It can’t.” Murphy wonders what, exactly, he’s stepped into. He shifts on the balls of his feet, checks his watch. 8:15. Perfect. The woman notices his restlessness and breaks her staring contest with her brother. “I can get you wherever you need to go,” she offers. “I just need to make a stop first.” “Sound like a plan,” he says, casually. He hopes he says it casually. His hands worm into his pockets; he thinks of Ontari. Ontari, beautiful and conniving. Exactly his type. He tries to remind himself of this but it’s hard, for some reason. His wrists hurt suddenly. The man, Otan, glares down at the woman. “Hurry up. Don’t do anything stupid.” “When do I ever?” she challenges. -- “So, you late for your wedding or something?” Murphy stares out the window, pointedly avoiding looking at the woman driving the car, who has a voice like low wind and apparently makes him think in stupidly poetic terms. “Don’t give me nightmare-fuel.” They’re driving along the road and the darkness and trees are all-consuming. Civilization is somewhere but he’s damned if he knows where. The woman, who told him her name was Emori, takes a sharp right turn and he almost slams his head on the window. “I hate it when men do that,” she says. “Do what?” “Complain about their girlfriends. If she makes you happy, be happy.” He is silent. She looks at him from the corner of her eye and he focuses on the relentless grind of wheel on gravel. These are sketchy little roads and he’s starting to hope this woman isn’t going to murder him. Sort of. If he was going to be murdered by anyone, okay, she’d be an acceptable option. “Unless,” she says carefully, “you aren’t.” “I’m tragically incapable of being happy.” “That may be true,” she concedes, “but sometimes people are wrong for each other.” She pulls over by a small shack and Murphy wonders if her tone was hopeful, just slightly, and she gets out of the car. “Wait here,” she says. He doesn’t; he slips out of the car and watches her enter the house and leave with a canvas bag she didn’t have before. “Let me guess; drugs,” he says, following her back to the truck and crunching through the shards of rock on the shack’s miniscule walkway. He likes the press of the texture against his soles. He likes walking in the dark with her. “Really big drugs.” “Good job waiting in the truck,” she says. When she climbs back in, her hands fumble a bit to find purchase on the wheel. Something transient about how she grips things. He files it away in the space of his brain reserved for morally dubious women he’ll probably never see again.   “I don’t do what I’m told,” he says mildly. “I can see that. It isn’t drugs.” “No shit.” She studies him, leaving her keys beeping in the ignition. “So where are you going? Do you have a date?” “Prom,” he says. “At the Ivy.” “That’s north of here.” She pauses and Murphy watches curiosity drape itself across her face. Maybe it’s interest, and he won’t fool himself into thinking her obviously illegal transaction hadn’t piqued his own curiosity. “Look, I need to do something else,” she says. “You can come with me, or I can take you to your stupid prom and you never have to see me again.” Nothing sounds worse. He slouches in the passenger's seat. “What is it? A stolen high-profile fax machine or something?” “It’s a computer. You with me or not?” It isn’t even a choice. -- Her second activity is pretty easy. “It’s a game Otan and I used to play when we were kids,” she whispers as they eat french fries in the all night Walmart’s McDonalds. Everything’s too bright in here and he’s conscious of how starkly his bruises stand out on his pale skin, how fucked up his neck must look. She isn’t looking at his neck; she is peering at the trickle of evening Walmart shoppers and the dark precision of her gaze makes her look like a shark. His breath quickens. “Yeah?” “Yeah. Whoever gets the most wallets wins.” He almost laughs at that. “For all you know I could be a really good person who would never steal from my fellow man.” “Yeah, but you’re not, right?” She catches his eye. He wants to laugh and he also wants to drown in the dark material of her work shirt and he wants to know what her hair would feel like if he twirled it in his finger. “It’s like you know me,” he says. -- After running from a pair of guys who noticed Murphy’s hand in their mother’s purse, he winds up with Emori at a footbridge a few yards away in the shadow of another shopping center. It crosses a small stream and they sit on the edge, tangling their legs in the metal structure which is covered poorly in chipped green paint and his chest is heaving and he can feel his heart shaking like a live animal in his chest. “Wasn’t that fun?” she asks breathlessly. She bumps her leg into his. “You’re insane,” he says. “Batshit.” She grins wildly, and then her gaze softens. Looking her in the eyes is dangerous, but he’s feeling dangerous himself tonight. He meets her eyes. Something catches like a stone in his chest and he thinks why now, why the hell did I have to meet you now? “Where did the bruises come from, John?” she asks, which is not the romantic bullshit he expected hoped maybe wanted her to say. His name is absurdly soft on her lips. He should never have told her his first name; it’s a vulnerable word, a spell when spoken by her. A piece to a puzzle, an idea that doesn’t belong to him. He looks away. “Ah,” she says. “She isn’t all bad,” he says lamely, a moment later. No one gets it, really. “They never are,” she says softly, and he wonders what kind of angry, shitty dust lives in her past. “Do you think you deserve it?” He laughs. “Loaded question.” “I thought I deserved that bullshit for a while too,” she says. Her eyes are quick; she’s making a decision. “I’ve had to do things. Otan and I… are different. Our parents couldn’t take care of us, so we had to live by our own rules. Still do.” He takes her hand without thinking. It’s shape is strange and heavy in his fingers, but he doesn’t mind. Her face is startled, disarmed. “Come on,” she says quickly, pulling away from him. His hand feels cold without hers but that doesn’t matter, he tells himself, because he’s never going to see her again. She’s going to drop him off at prom and then drive away and that will be fucking that. “I think we lost those guys,” she continues, and she cradles her hand against her ribcage like a conversation with herself.    -- When they pull up to the Ivy’s parking lot, Murphy realizes his tux is wrinkled and he totally lost his corsage and his hair hasn’t been combed in about three hours. He wants to say goodbye, but Emori is staring at the windshield darkly and the words shudder in his chest and die. “Why are you with her, anyway?” she asks. The words are laced in something indecipherable. He stares at her mouth, at her awkward grip on the steering wheel. “There isn’t much in my life,” he says. “She… she gets me out of the house.” He doesn’t explain what’s in his house, his father’s death and his mother’s empty bottles and his dropping out of school and his lack of future, but she seems to get it. Her hands loosen on the steering wheel. “You could sneak in?” he offers. It’s a shitty offer. She laughs. An empty chime. “No thanks. It’s almost midnight. You’re about to turn into a pumpkin, anyway.” “I don’t think that’s how the story works,” he says. She turns to him. She doesn’t say goodbye, but the door locks snap open and her gaze is unwavering. -- “Where were you?” Ontari is livid, of course. She looks dark and beautiful and he is completely unaffected as he looks at her, stomping her way across the dance floor to see him like the crest of a wave. She grabs his wrist; he lets her. Until he doesn’t. Until he yanks his hand away. Until he stalks out of the room before he can think about it twice and disappears into the warm May night. There, in the parking lot; a truck waiting, still waiting. An engine running. There’s a euphoria settling in his chest, like looking at something from a great height. He smiles.

[cassburger215]

'Til Death - Part 1

Dean x Reader

Summary: When the reader finds herself in need of outside help, she calls the Winchester brothers to cash in an old favor. A call that changes everything.

Word Count: 1700+

A/N: Okay, this is my first fanfic so bear with me! I’d love to hear any feedback! :)  And again, if you’d like to be tagged for story updates send me an ask!

(Side note: OMG that episode last night!!! #AdvancedThanatology #whatfiller)

“Fuck,” you hissed out, the alcohol stinging like a mother when it hit the gaping hole in your leg. Goddamn black-eyed bitch.

Reaching in the duffle laying open on the passenger seat, you grabbed a semi clean rag and begin to wipe away the excess blood to give you a clearer view.  The laceration wasn’t too deep but it definitely needed stitches, so you got to work. 

You were still outside the old house where you had just finished exorcising a demon. You managed to trap her into the house, but it wasn’t without a fight. The bitch had been killing married men after having sex with them. Not that you condoned cheating but it was safe to say murder wasn’t the answer. 

You grimaced as your skin pulled taut, remembering how she swiped at you with a kitchen knife. At least it wasn’t a rusty piece of shit ‘cause you could do without the infection.

Unfortunately by the time it was nothing but black smoke, the woman the demon had possessed was too far gone.  Her last gasping, pain filled breaths haunted you as you sewed up your thigh.

Her body was still laying in the basement waiting to be buried.

Just the thought left you exhausted, but it was the least the woman - Diana - deserved. You had come to learn she had been missing for six months, leaving a worried husband and a two-year-old daughter behind. So the moment your patch job was done, you exited your vehicle with a shovel in tow.

An hour later the sun was setting, calling the end of a long-ass day. You were sweaty, caked in freshly turned dirt and injured. All you could think about now was getting your butt back to the motel for a thirty minute shower and a cold beer.

The motel, Sleepy Hills Inn, was not the greatest find in the world. Case in point - the only other cars in the lot when you arrived yesterday were maintenance vans and the front desk manager’s truck. However it was only temporary, until you moved on to the next town. The next case.

You hobbled out of your jeep, taking the duffle with you and headed to room 116. Ten feet away, you froze. Your door was slightly ajar but still too dark to see inside. Dropping the bag, you took the gun out from the back of your pants and aimed straight ahead.

Okay, Y/N. Take a breath. 3, 2, 1…

The door hinges creaked loudly as the wood swayed inward. Nothing immediately jumped on you so you fumbled with the wall on your right until your fingers hit the light switch.

“What the hell?”

Everything you’d left in the room was tossed. It looked like a hurricane went through it. Books lay haphazardly on the ground by the table, your clothes strewn around the room, bed sheets ripped away. You were dumbfounded.

Quickly checking the rest of the room, you found you were indeed alone. Glancing here to there, you stopped when you spotted the hunting knife embedded into the wall. It was holding up a picture. You got closer and made it out to be a picture of a young girl with deep brown hair and eyes the brightest shade of blue you’d ever seen.  It was your sister.

Sara.

Air left your lungs in one fell swoop. You yanked the knife out of the wall, taking the photograph in your hands. It was old, the edges bent this way and that. An elementary school photo. She was smiling proudly for the camera, wearing her favorite Guns N Roses shirt which had actually been a hand-me-down of yours. 

It’d been close to a decade since you had seen her. The obvious threat scared you more than anything had in years. What did this mean? Who was threatening you?

You brought your left hand up to swipe at a stray hair tickling your cheek, but stopped short when you saw the black ink smudges on your fingertips. Flipping the photo over, your heart beat even faster. Newly written was a note.

You take my family, I’ll take yours.

Your mind raced with the possibilities of who - or what - could have left this behind for you to find. As far as people go, you don’t interact with anyone non-case related. Save for the occasional one night stand. Certainly nothing to warrant such a threat.

And as for monsters, it’d frankly been kind of dry. The demon you had exorcised today was your only action this month. The month before included a wraith, a demon and two ghosts.

You began to panic when you came up blank.

“Come on Y/N. Family… family…”

You paced the small motel room, no longer able to remain still. In the process you almost fell face first when you tripped over an abandoned shoe. You’re reminded of the hurricane of a room then. Staying here wasn’t safe.

With that in mind, you gathered your things quickly and packed the jeep.

Driving down the empty road, usually so relaxing, had you unsettled. You began to think back even farther, grasping for anything that stuck out to you. The information you had was just so vague. Before you started to tear up, you pulled out your phone and began calling some hunter connections. People you’ve worked with in the past year.

“Sierra, hey it’s Y/N. It’s been awhile.”

“Hey sugar! What can I do you for?”

“Have you had anything strange happen lately? I mean, besides the normal strange.”

Sierra hummed on the other end before replying. “Nothing stands out. Why?”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. Let me know if something comes up, yeah?”

Five similar conversations later, you didn’t know what to do. Where to go. You still stunk to high heaven and now your leg had been throbbing for the past hour. Plus it had been at least 12 hours since you last ate.

A bleary look at the clock told you it’s way past your bedtime. Sighing, you got off at the next exit and stopped at the first motel you saw.

The hot water of the shower scalded your skin but your were far from caring. You scrubbed all the dirt off of your body, mindful of your injury. You felt much better afterward and dressed for bed. The cookies you got from the vending machine were stale, the tap water tasted metallic and your comforter had an obvious stain on it, but you were so exhausted you overlooked it and climbed in - ready to get a few hours of sleep before continuing on in the morning.

The other end of the call continued to ring, frustrating you. You tried once more as you waited for the jeep’s tank to fill up.

“Come on David, answer the damn phone,” you growled out. When it continued with no answer, you left a simple ‘call me’ message and snapped the phone shut.

The gas shuddered to a stop with a thump and you quickly went inside the Gas-N-Sip to pay, grabbing a soda and a pre-made sandwich as you did.

The cashier gave you an odd look when you came to the counter. No doubt she saw the busted lip and bruised cheekbone. The life of a hunter.

You simply gave her a smile and a line about a rough roller derby practice and continued on your way. 

Getting a sinking feeling when David continued to not answer you back all morning, you headed for his house. Unlike you, and many others, David had a permanent residence in Indiana. It wasn’t much. A small cabin out in the middle of nowhere. You yourself only knew about it because of a close call with a werewolf in that area about three years ago. David brought you to the cabin and patched you up.

It took all day to make the drive, but you finally were in view of the front lawn a quarter past eight. There weren’t any lights visible from the front as you got out of the jeep. You tucked your gun in the back of your jeans and made your way to the front door, a bad feeling in your gut.

“David?”

The front door was unlocked. You immediately took your gun out. Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it. With a quick swallow, you pushed the door open and entered.

Faint moonlight broke in through the windows making it significantly easier to see where you were stepping.

The front room was a hurricane, just like at your motel. Papers were strewn everywhere and furniture upturned.

“D-David?” You called out again. No answer.

You turned the corner of the crooked couch leading toward the small kitchen but stopped in your tracks at the sight of a body on the floor.

“No,” you whispered. Frantically searching for the light switch, you stumbled around the form for the kitchen doorway. The lights flicked on happily, burning its bright fluorescent bulbs. You immediately gagged at the view.

David laid unnaturally on the living room carpet, his eyes wide open in a fixed stare. His skin was ghastly pale. And his throat was practically ripped out. He had to have been dead at least a day. Taking a closer look, it became obvious what had done this: Vampire.

You and David had decimated a vampire nest last year up in Wisconsin. Seven of them were killed by the two of you. It was actually a pretty smooth hunt. But what if you had missed one?

The pieces were beginning to come together now.

You pulled Sara’s picture out of your back pocket, caressing the paper. If anything happened to her because of what you did…

You had to find her. But you couldn’t possibly do it alone. Resources were scarce for you and your recent injury hardly left you equipped to take on a creature as stealth as a vamp.

But you knew a pair of hunters that had all kinds of resources.

The phone shook in your hand as you dialed the number, unsure it was even still good.

“Yeah?”

You blew out an anxious breath. “Sam Winchester?”

“You got ‘em.”

“I’m cashing in that favor you owe me.”

Part 2

[seriouslyhooked]

Souvenirs (A CS AU) Part 9/14

A Modern CS AU where Emma has grown up in Maine her whole life and runs a store with Ruby and MM. Killian Jones is the new guy in town, who just bought the local bar. Only Emma and Killian have met before and now she can’t help but wonder if their past has influenced his plans for the future. Includes tons of fluff and a happily ever after. Rated M.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

A/N: This chapter, Emma and Killian are moving her stuff into his house. Emma notes how well their stuff already meshes, but there are a few rooms where she thinks they could use some changes. Killian’s response? Going on an impromptu paint and furniture-shopping trip. Because why not just have domestic fluff bonanza? We deserve it. Anyway thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy!

God I love this house, Emma thought a few months later as she placed a box down in the kitchen filled with odds and ends that she’d brought from her old apartment. Right behind her was Killian, lugging in the huge artisan mixer that she’d insisted on bringing too. And this man, I really love this man.

Emma had never done this, never taken the plunge of sharing a place with a guy. As a foster kid, all she had ever wanted was a place to call home where she wasn’t surrounded by swarms of people. So when she grew up, she was a little territorial over what was hers, and that included her space. She didn’t really do the roommate thing, never wanted to mesh her things with someone else’s, so to move in with someone, that was probably going to be a lot to handle. Only it didn’t feel that way. Standing in Killian’s house in the early afternoon of a beautiful Saturday felt right and starting to blend her belongings in with his was exhilarating instead of terrifying.

“Are we really doing this right now?” Killian smiled at her question and came around the island to take her into his arms.

“We really, are, Swan.”

He looked almost predatory with the heat in his eyes and Emma thought she was in real trouble of getting sidetracked from the move in the name of pleasure. Not that she’d mind at all, but Killian had gone so far as to higher a team of movers who were less than five minutes behind them. Optimistic as she was recently, she doubted anything truly satisfying could happen in five minutes.

“You love that you’re my first time, don’t you.” She watched his body tense a bit and knew her word choice had turned him on that much more, and then he nodded, bridging the gap between her for a searing kiss.

“You’re first and last.”

The gravel in his voice had Emma inching in closer, trying to get the friction of Killian’s hard body against her. She was succumbing to his raw sex appeal as she always did, and though moments ago she’d been saying it was impossible, Emma now couldn’t seem to care about the potential interruption anymore.

“First and last,” Emma confirmed. She was just about to pull him down for more when the moving truck groaned to a stop outside. With the moment broken, Killian traced his thumb over her bottom lip and looked at her now with a mix of lust and love, her favorite cocktail of emotions.

“We’ll pick this up later.”

“This had better be the fastest move in history.”

Killian laughed heartily at that and took her hand in his, as they let in the movers and directed them with the bits and pieces of furniture that were making the trip from Emma’s house. They’d done their fair share of planning already, and so the move was manageable. Nothing too horrendous, but after a few hours of organizing, Emma still felt like something was slightly off. There were just certain rooms that didn’t fit as well as she’d hoped, or maybe needed a completely different look.

“Everything okay, love?”

“It’s just gonna take some time, I think. To make it really ours.” He looked at her, clearly confused. “Well, I just mean, like there’s some rooms that we might want to consider restyling in a way that would make the things that we both have and love flow better together.”

“So like repainting and getting some new furniture?” Emma smiled, relieved that he understood.

“Exactly!”

“Why would we have to wait for that? Come on love, the day is young, let’s make this house our home today.” Emma let him pull her hand to the door, shocked at his statement.

“You want to get it all done today?” Killian nodded. “There’s no way, we can’t do that. The painting alone for three - no four – rooms would take us at least a week.”

“Ah, but we are more than just us, aren’t we Swan?”

Killian pulled out his phone as they made their way to the porch and down the steps. He opened the door of the car for Emma and then walked around to start it and head out. As he did, he spoke to Graham about procuring some of his workers for the next two days. He’d pay double for some basic painting and though Emma thought he was crazy, she also loved how dedicated he was to seeing her happy and comfortable.

“We’re off to get the colors right now.” Killian looked at Emma to check that was okay and she nodded, secretly delighted that he was so invested in this.

“Great, thanks mate, see you then.” Killian hung up the phone and turned his attention and his grin towards Emma.

“Graham will meet us at the hardware store in an hour and he and his guys can get any necessary work done by end of day tomorrow. Whatever you want, Emma.”

“You have no preferences?” He shook his head.

“Only that you choose whatever strikes your fancy, and that your selections make you feel comfortable in our home.”

“But it’s ours. You should contribute too.” He smirked at that.

“I will, Emma, but I also know that you’ll go out into the world thinking of this place as ours. You know me by now, and I trust your instincts implicitly.” He extended his right hand and she took it willingly, moving closer to rest her head on his shoulder for a moment.

This was really one of the greatest gifts he could give her, because as an artist, and someone whose whole life was considering what worked and what didn’t work aesthetically for her, having things not exactly so would cause some friction in her mind. The fact that Killian knew that, and that he seemed to understand meant the world and she was so grateful for the fact that he would take the day and go with her to make these choices. Emma was struck again by just how wonderful life was now that she had him back.

“I love you.” He brought her hand to his lips to kiss gently.

“As I love you, Swan.”

…………

Storybrooke Hardware was a place that Emma knew very well. As an independent kind of person, she’d often opted to handle any projects that came along in her home and her shop herself. Emma was the kind of person who would repaint the rooms in her apartment at least once a year, just to keep things fresh and exciting. Couple that with the fact that Leroy, the owner, had gone out of his way to keep finer metal working tools in stock for her specifically, and she was as close to a regular here as one could be.

When she entered today, with Killian in tow, it had not gone unnoticed, and they hadn’t set ten feet into the store when Leroy called out to her.

“So you finally brought the boyfriend. Good for you, kid. Just don’t let him break anything.” Killian looked slightly aghast at the comment, and when Leroy left their immediate proximity he commented to Emma.

“First of all, strange that he calls you ‘kid.’ Surely he’s not that old. And second, Leroy has fast become a fixture in my bar, but suddenly I’m just the boyfriend. This is a strange town you’ve chosen for us, Swan.” Emma laughed at that, because really, how could she argue with that? Storybrooke was unique and a little bizarre for sure, but she loved it, and she could tell that Killian was quickly growing just as fond of it as she was.

They moved through the aisles until finally making it to the paints, and Emma felt the rush of excitement that came every time she got to infuse her style into something. Part of her was a little saddened by the fact that they wouldn’t be doing the actual painting, but then she remembered the stink of the fumes and how though she always had fun, she also always had a headache by days end. This time she could avoid that, which was certainly something to appreciate. She and Killian discussed different ideas, tossing out their own opinions, which almost always lined up, but Emma noticed that his presence opened a lot of interruptions from the other shoppers. Usually when she was here, people left her alone, this time however, it was like every single patron of the little store had to have a conversation.

“You kids are just so cute.” Mrs. Keebler’s comment was not the first of its kind, though Emma did appreciate the old woman’s kindness. That being said, how did one respond to that?

“Thank you, I think I’ll keep him.” She joked and Mrs. Keebler laughed.

“See that you do, dear. I heard from Milly McDonald that Graham Huntsman and his crew have been hired for some last minute work thanks to your beau here. This is a very romantic gesture. You are a very lucky girl.” With that, she left Emma with Killian who was grinning like an idiot.

“Hear that, Swan? You’re a very lucky girl to have me as your beau.”

“You know, I’m aware of that, but it would be nice to hear some of these old ladies saying that you’re the lucky one.” Killian wrapped his arms around her.

“I think it simply goes without saying that there is no man on earth blessed with as much as I am in having your love, Emma.”

And just like that she melted, besides the paint cans and the wooden stirrers. Killian had that kind of power over her, sure and precise and unthreatening. The words, as cheesy as they could have been construed, sparked that last bit of inspiration.

“Hold that thought.” Emma moved behind him to the swatches she’d just been pouring over and selected three gradations of brown until finally finding the right one.

“Pirate’s Promise.” She flashed the lighter shade at him and he smiled.

“It’s a lovely color, Emma, I grant you, but what could possibly have prompted that from what I said.” She shrugged and smiled.

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do, love.” He moved closer, placing a hand on her hip and she warmed at his touch.

“Sometimes you just talk like a pirate.”

“My professions of love pass my lips and you hear, ‘argh matey?’” She laughed, running a hand over his chest.

“No, I was thinking more Westley from the Princess Bride, devilishly handsome, hopelessly in love with a feisty blonde. Ringing a bell at all?” Killian pulled her in for a kiss so hot, there was no way it should have happened in a hardware store, but regardless of place, Emma was lost in it, aching for closeness and needing the feel of him all over her.

“Our story is so much better, love. I promise.” Emma sighed at that, she dug her fingers into the cotton of his shirt, wishing terribly that they were back home so she could show him just how much she loved his words.

“Mr. Jones, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Graham sent me over to pick up the paints you’ve chosen.” Emma looked over at the college-aged boy who was clearly a bit embarrassed to have to do this and laughter bubbled in her chest.

“Right then, here they are.” Killian gently took the three swatches from Emma and handed them over telling him which went in each room. With just a slight bow, the boy left them alone once more.

“Now, Swan. I believe we have a few more stops to make don’t we?” He offered his arm and she gladly took it, following him out of the store and off on the next domestic adventure.

…………

This had easily become one of Emma’s favorite days, filled with laughter and cute moments, but this might actually the cake. She was standing in the middle of the furniture gallery, surrounded by a sea of sofas, as Killian was being informed what Netflix and chill was by the young man trying to sell them the right couch.

“You know, man, sometimes you put on the movie but what you really wanted was…” Killian looked confused and the expression on his face was so adorable, that Emma had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling.

“To chill?” Killian’s response had the sales guy looking relieved.

“Exactly, man. But like it’s a euphemism.”

“For what?” Emma pulled Killian down closer to her and whispered in his ear.

“Sex, Killian. Substitute the chill for sex.”

“Oh, right, well.”

Killian was scratching behind his ear with a little bit of bashfulness and Emma took pity on him despite her overwhelming desire to laugh, telling the sales rep what there color scheme was and the dimensions they were looking for. She kept it light and professional, no more euphemisms, but when she looked at Killian for his opinion on every couch, he kept quiet as a fire burned brighter in his gaze.

“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” Killian shook his head.

“No, love. Now the question has become less about what goes with the overall look and what would be the best one to take you on.” Emma flushed a deep red at the statement.

“Of course, so what are the criteria? Strength, comfort and size?”

“Aye, love. When it comes to more than those three things, I’m operating at a loss.”

“Here, this one has all that. Tell me what you think?” Emma took a seat, instantly falling in love with this sofa and really wanting him to say yes. He sat down beside her, pulling her close and whispering in her ear.

“I can see many a night spent here, watching Netflix, and having very little chill between us.” Emma cleared her throat and tore her gaze from his burning blue eyes, looking at the associate.

“We’ll take this one.” The guy walked off to make a note of it and add that to the other inventory they’d selected and Emma felt Killian’s arms around her tighten just a bit, but she stood up, not wanting them to get sidetracked.

“Let’s go look at the last room, just make sure there isn’t anything else we want.” Killian’s responding smirk had Emma pressing her legs together, and she was damn sure that he could read her like a book in this moment, but he went along with her suggestion.

In the final room, Emma saw deeper, richer woods than had been in the earlier galleries, and a craftsmanship that made every piece seem homemade instead of off an assembly line. While their home’s personal style didn’t require all unique pieces, this smaller room was striking, and from a design standpoint, she could definitely appreciate the work and effort that would go in to each and every piece. Emma took a stroll around the room, admiring the work, but turned to find that Killian was not beside her, instead, he had stayed back towards the entrance near a beautifully ornate rocking chair. Emma went back to ask him about it.

“You want to try it out?” Emma asked and Killian shook his head.

“No, love, I want you to try it out.” Emma’s brow rose in surprise but she did just that, loving the feel of the hard wood that was crafted beautifully into a comfortable chair. It rocked just enough, the action smooth and sure, and Emma smiled, enjoying the feeling.

“I never really thought to have a rocking chair. Always assumed that was more a golden years thing.” But her teasing didn’t light up his features the way she expected. He seemed so serious, so full of emotion that she had to reach out her hand and take his.

“Talk to me: are we liking this, are we not liking it? What’s going on inside your head right now?” Emma watched as Killian shifted uneasily before coming out with it.

“My mother had one of these, to get Liam and I back to sleep after a rough night, or calm us in a moment of sadness. I always pictured having one for my kids as well.” Emma smiled at that, not knowing such a connection to the chair herself, but understanding how just the action of rocking could have such impact.

“So it’s a happy feeling, but you still look so… strange right now.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s just hit me that I’ll never need this unless I can have it with you, Emma. You’re the only woman in the world I could ever imagine raising a family with, the only one I love enough to want these happy memories. I prefer to be honest with you love, I don’t say this to scare you, but every fiber of my being is crying out to buy this so that someday, if you’ll let me, we can use it for our kids.”

Emma rose from the seat and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him and making sure he was looking right at her, so that he could see she meant every word of what she was about to say.

“I love kids, and I want them too. Only with you, because you’re the only person I could ever trust enough to not let me mess it up. So we’re getting this chair, and even if it goes unused for a long time, that’s okay. It’ll be the representation of that dream that we both have, okay?”

He nodded and she pulled him down for a kiss, truly not giving the slightest care that they were in the middle of the gallery. It was hot and real and true, and when they finally pulled back, Emma flagged down their attendant, told him they’d take it, and hastily led Killian out of the store. After a day of brimming emotions, she was desperately in the mood to practice for this newfound dream of theirs.

Post-Note: Hope that you guys liked this installment! Cute couple moments in a hardware store and then picking out furniture are exactly what I want for Captain Swan. Unfortunately, they specialize in fighting off magical foe, so we will likely never see that on the show, but heck, that’s what fics are for right?

[cassburger215]

‘Til Death - Teaser

A/N: Hello people! I’m getting ready to start a Dean x reader series and thought I’d give a sneak peak of chapter one that I’ve been working on tonight. 

I’ve tagged a few of you whose stuff I’ve read and am following. I wont tag you in the series though unless you want me to. So be happy to disregard this if you couldn’t care less!

For anyone else who would like to be tagged in updates, I’d be more than happy to!  So without further ado:

Summary: When the reader finds herself in need of outside help, she calls the Winchester brothers to cash in an old favor. A call that changes everything.

TEASER:

“Fuck,” you hissed out, the alcohol stinging like a mother when it hit the gaping hole in your leg. Goddamn black-eyed bitch.

Reaching in the duffle laying open on the passenger seat, you grabbed a semi clean rag and begin to wipe away the excess blood to give you a clearer view.  The laceration wasn’t too deep but it definitely needed stitches, so you got to work. 

You were still outside the old house where you had just finished exorcising a demon. The bitch had been killing married men after having sex with them. You managed to trap her into the house, but it wasn’t without a fight.

You grimaced as your skin pulled taut, remembering how she swiped at you with a kitchen knife. At least it wasn’t a rusty piece of shit ‘cause you could do without the infection.

Unfortunately by the time it was nothing but black smoke, the woman the demon had possessed was too far gone.  Her last gasping, pain filled breaths haunted you as you sewed up your thigh.

Her body was still laying in the basement waiting to be buried.

Just the thought left you exhausted, but it was the least the woman - Diana - deserved. You had come to learn she had been missing for six months, leaving a worried husband with a two-year-old daughter behind. So the moment your patch job was done, you exited your vehicle with a shovel in tow.

An hour later the sun was setting, calling the end of a long-ass day. You were sweaty, caked in freshly turned dirt and injured. All you could think about now was getting your ass back to the motel for a thirty minute shower and a cold beer.

The motel, Sleepy Hills Inn, was not the greatest find in the world. Case in point - the only other cars in the lot when you arrived yesterday were maintenance vans and the front desk manager’s truck. However it was only temporary, until you moved on to the next town. The next case.

You hobbled out of your jeep, taking the duffle with you and headed to room 116. Ten feet away, you froze. Your door was slightly ajar but still too dark to see inside. Dropping the bag, you took the gun out from the back of your pants and aimed straight ahead.

@ravengirl94 @trexrambling @sunlightdances @imagining-supernatural