#I’m not built for this level of stress and demand

[achilleansapphic]

How to be less stressed and overthink everything please 😁👍🏻

[emotionoitme]

don’t call my name

don't call my name - skinshape

warnings: roommate trope, pervy carmy, like this man needs to get a grip, sexual tension & sexual innuendo, yearning as always, nudity and some steaminess, alcohol (its one drink), some dirty touches and lots of teasing + dirty talking lol, future smut (freaky), no use of y/n or you

wc: 8.6k

a/n: new 3-PART SERIES!! hiiii i’m sorry i’ve been awol for so long but s3 has sent me into a feral frenzy and thats what motivates me to write for carmy <3 he kind of pissed me off this season but i’m horny for him anyways so enjoy!!  (from the same horny silly mind as “about a girl”)

series masterlist

playlist (updates with each chapter)

fucking inflation.

carmen berzatto would rather die than try and find a roommate.

with chicago’s residential rent quadrupling, he found it increasingly stressful balancing monthly apartment payments with the nonstop financial demand of owning a restaurant. 

if it wasn’t fixing the walk in fridge, it was fixing the gas line that had a leak. not to mention staffing, fancy dishware, food cost, utilities. the bear was a big up and coming success in the community, but he was damned if it didn’t take a lot of money to keep a restaurant running. 

it wouldn’t have been so stressful all on its own, either, not if his new fuckhead landlord didn’t send all the tenants a yellow slip informing them of the $2500 monthly increase in rent. 

the place was nice—he recently made a decision that was long deliberated, moveing from his small, admittedly humble apartment complex to a “luxury unit”. 

he found it to be quite an adjustment. It was newer, and much nicer than what carmy was used to. the place was fully furnished and had two-levels connected by floating stairs, as well as tall windows that reached the ceiling and illuminated the space with natural light. 

it was a gorgeous place, but the sudden increase in rent did nothing more than fuel the disdain that he had accumulated for landlords over the years. 

so, came to terms with the fact that he would have to either deal with the hassle of moving out, cut into the restaurant’s budgeting, or the dreaded third option. finding a roommate. 

the stress plagued his mind all night as he tried to sleep, tossing and turning over his pillow. 

someone to share a small space with, quarrel over messes with, debate over rent share with. not to mention he had grown accustomed to small freedoms like cooking in the middle of the night or walking around naked. 

there was also the fact that he had been lonely recently, succumbing to sexual frustrations that reminded him all too well of being a teenager again. it had crept up on him slowly, the urge to hold another person again. to be touched by someone else. 

he had been so worked up, he was being plagued by wet dreams. it was like being back in middle school for the man. finding himself waking up face down in the bed, clutching a pillow he had drooled on with a throbbing erection in his boxers. finding himself rutting his hips against the mattress to try and alleviate some of the pressure that had built up in his body. a thin sheen of sweat covered him as he felt increasingly hot. maybe he would want to bring someone home in the near future, and how would that work with a roommate? what a fucking nightmare. 

he bit into the pillow and let out a soft groan as he continued to slowly rock his hips against the mattress. 

he slid his hand down, fingers tucking into his boxers and wrapping around his erection. the dream had felt so real while he was asleep, recalling soft skin beneath his fingertips, recalling himself posessively gripping this skin as a hot, wet tightness engulfed his cock. he nuzzles his face further into the pillow as he pumps his hand softly over his length.

the lack of anything romantic or sexual in his life was probably for the best. but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss it. 

carmen brought his hand up to his mouth, spitting into his palm and shoving his boxers down to slick himself up. it felt as if a white heat was beginning to surge through his body, unaccustomed to the touch. 

he had been so busy, wound so tightly. he began rutting his hips to meet his hand, releasing a low moan into the pillow. it was like the dream had gotten him almost completely to the finish line, feeling overwhelmingly sensitive from the brief touches. his other hand gripped at his comforter as he felt himself coming up on an orgasm, muscles tensing, mouth falling open.

the sharp blare of his phone ringing right next to his ear caused him to jump, ripping his hand out from his boxers and sitting up. it took him a second to orient himself, heart pounding and breaths labored.

he felt his skin heat with anger as his eyes darted over to the screen to see an unknown number. 

another four seconds and he would have been blissfully falling over the edge he hadn’t fallen over in a long time. 

he hurriedly shoved the phone up to his ear. 

“what?” he snapped into the line, patience wearing incredibly thin. the receiving end was quiet for a beat, before a woman’s voice hesitantly responded. 

“hi…um, i was calling about the listing for the unit on maple… is this the right number?” 

carmy ran a hand over his face, resting his forehead in his hand. the pent up tension began to partially subside, mind now focusing on his sustained issue of finding a roommate. 

“no, yeah. uh, sorry,” he cleared his throat, “this is carmen.”

“oh. hi,” the girl’s voice responded, sounding slightly surprised. she relayed her own name, as he found himself closing his eyes and tuning into the sound of her voice. 

“i saw your ad in the tribune, and i’m kind of in a rough spot right now with my shithea- sorry, my landlord increasing the rent. i only need a place for a few months before i go back to the west coast.” 

he let himself chuckle at her correction, hand falling to the blanket above his erection. 

“yeah,” he responded, “i’m, uh, all too familiar with shithead landlords. that’s why i put the ad out in the first place. my rent is fuckin’ going up 2500 bucks.” hearing a small gasp resonate through the line at this.

“so i take it you’re not…totally enthusiastic about getting a roommate?” she questioned with a laugh.

something inside his stomach fluttered at the sound of her laugh. enough to feel a twitch from under the blanket. 

god damn, was he wound tightly. 

“no- i’m… well, yes, but-“ he exhales, “i guess it just has to be a good fit. i’m used to living alone.” 

the girl lets out a hum of agreement. 

“well, when can i meet you, carmen? test out how well you…fit?” 

he had to stifle a groan at this, a dull, aching throb coming from beneath his covers. he palmed his hand over the clothed hardness. he didn’t even know what this girl looked like and somehow she was eliciting a response from him. he made a mental note to try and get laid over the next week. even if it was just a shitty one night stand. anything to alleviate this ferocity he felt. 

“yeah, um,” he responds, slightly horse “i’m actually taking the day off tomorrow, so, then?” 

the girl giggled again. 

“wow, lucky you, taking off work on a sunday?” she teased. he takes his hand off his clothed erection and runs his hand through his unruly curls.

“yeah, i, uh, work in a restaurant. so it really is lucky…” dread filled his stomach at the thought of playing catch-up come monday. hopefully the staff would work smoothly enough to accommodate his absence. 

“i’m really the lucky one,” she responds, “the sooner i can end my lease, the better. and you’re the first actual response i’ve gotten all week.” a pause. “can i come by tomorrow morning and check the place out?” 

carmy’s eyes flickered towards his open bedroom door, acknowledging the cleaning he would have to squeeze in today. 

“yeah, the, uh…. the morning works” he responded. 

“i won’t be interrupting anything, right?” she asked. 

his eyes glanced down to the hardened outline under his sheets. 

“no,” he rested his head back against the wall, “no, i’m open. come at 9? unit 407.” 

“okay, yeah. i’ll be there. bye, carmen” she sweetly chimed. 

he let out a breath as the phone disconnected. this woman could’ve been anyone, yet something about the way she said his name sent a wave of heat through his body. he glanced back down at his hardness, then at the clock. 

“fuck” he exhaled, denoting the limited time he had before he had to be at the resturaunt. he ran a hand over his face before throwing the covers off of him and forcing himself out of bed. he readjusted the tent of his boxers and walked downstairs and into the kitchen. fuck this rent increase. he loved living alone. 

carmen downed a glass of water, allowing some of the cool liquid to spill onto his bare chest. he told himself he dreaded the next morning when he would meet the woman who called him, regardless of how his body responded to the sound of her voice. 

he definitely wasn’t lonely, curious, or excited to see what she would be like. 

fuck having a roommate.

he bent down to strip himself of his boxers, leaving them on the floor as he walked into the bathroom to start the shower. he drew back the curtain and let the water hit him without warming up. 

what about being able to come home at any hour of the night? or stashing his jeans in the oven? no longer would he be comfortable succumbing to freedoms as simple as jerking off on the couch. 

so because of that, carmen would rather die than try and find a roommate. 

or, at least that’s what he had thought initially. 

by no means did he expect his old fashioned newspaper ad to bring her. 

his first thought was that she was beautiful, and he found himself drinking in the sight of her as if he were a man lost in a desert and she was a cool blue pond. 

she was younger, he guessed early twenties, and cute. carmen had never considered himself the type of guy who had a type, but that split second after which he had opened the door made him rethink that prior assumption.

it also didn’t help that she had shown up in a tiny skirt and a long sleeved shirt that was so fucking tight he could see the perk of her nipples through the fabric. and what could he say to defend himself? at the end of the day he was just a man. 

the first genuine thing he noticed, however, was her smile, alongside a mischievous glint in her eyes, which he was immediately enamored with. it was like opening the door and being completely blindsided, resulting in an awkward first few seconds as they stood staring at each other. the girl expectantly waited for him to invite her inside. he hadn't even realized that she had already greeted him and he was just starting back at her dumbfoundedly. 

“uh. sorry,” he broke the silence, “hi. it’s nice to meet you” he stuck out his hand. 

she gave him a warm smile and reached out to shake his hand. 

“so nice to meet you, carmen.” 

her hand was soft. and he liked the way it seemed to disappear in his. she pulled it back sooner than he would’ve liked. he reciprocated her small smile. 

“carmy is fine,” he stepped to the side “come on in.”

he watched as her eyes scanned down his face, to his lips, neck, chest, before glancing back up. 

he could’ve sworn her cheeks colored a bit as she stepped inside and began to have a look around. 

the girl slowly made her way through the living room, running her hand along the soft backing of the couch, glancing over the various cook books stacked upon the coffee table. carmy watched her from behind as she sauntered into the kitchen, averting his eyes after tracing up the span of her bare leg, disappointed when his gaze met fabric. 

stop being such a fuckin’ perv, he internally scolded himself. he took a deep breath and shoved his hands into his front pockets, continuing to walk forward, eyes burning a hole into the cabinets of the kitchen. anywhere but on her. 

the girl placed her hands on the granite countertops, leaning over to examine even more cookbooks, these ones with sticky notes decorating the pages. the sweet, light smell of perfume prompted carmen to look forward, realizing he had gotten closer to the girl than he meant to. she sensed his presence and turned around, letting out a small gasp at the close proximity. her eyes darted up and locked with his. 

carmen felt the eye contact send a shockwave through his body as he unintentionally towered over her. 

her eyes fell to his lips momentarily and he felt his jaw clench as he watched her part her mouth and let out a soft breath. the girl ripped her eyes away from his lips, begrudgingly bringing them back up to meet his. 

“can you take me to the bedroom?” she asked him. carmy blinked, heart pounding in his chest, not sure if he heard her right. 

“wh- what?” he choked out. her eyebrows slightly creased, head tilting. 

“the room where i’d stay? can i see it?” 

his eyes shut tightly, then snapped back open. hand coming up to run through his hair. 

jesus, get a grip, man. obviously she wasn’t asking you to take her to the bedroom so you could fu-

“yeah-”’ he sighed, “yeah, of course.” carmy spun on his heel, leading her back through the living room and up the stairs. 

“it’s a beautiful place,” she complimented, “a lot nicer than where i’m at right now.” 

the top floor looked over the living room, branching off into a hallway with two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. 

“yeah, uh, to be honest, it’s a lot… fancier than what i’m usually used to.” carmy led her past his room into the vacant space, empty except for a king sized mattress. 

“the, uh, mattress is yours if you want it. if you already have one, i’ll get it out of here.” he turned to glance at the girl, who had wide eyes, “won it in a stupid…sweepstakes thing my cousin signed me up for.” 

he doesn’t mention that richie had signed him up to make fun of him, telling carmen that a new mattress might help him get laid since nothing else seemed to work.

her gaze met his and a big smile grew on her face. she walked to the edge of the bed, then turned to lay on it, sprawling her arms out. 

“wow,” she exhaled, “you live the life of luxury over here carmy,” a big smile still on her face as she stretches out. he ignores the way her skirt creates a perfect triangular gap between her thighs, revealing a glimpse of white lacy fabric.

okay, maybe he doesn’t ignore it. 

“so?” she asks. he rips his gaze upwards, finding her sitting up on the bed, eyes meeting his, “is it a good fit?” she had a small smirk on her face, crossing one leg over the other, slightly leaning back. 

he liked the way she gazed up at him, chin tilting up towards him to expose more of her neck. his eyes raked down the flesh of her neck, wondering what it would be like to sink his teeth into it. to make her yelp. to mark her. 

“yeah,” he softly responds, feeling his mouth dry, eyes scanning over her face, “i, uh, i think we can make it fit.”

carmy watches as her eyelids flutter slightly at this, chest expanding with a deep inhale. he could’ve sworn she pressed her thighs together, lip coming to catch between her teeth. 

“okay,” she breathed, the two of them almost in a trance as they stared at each other. he was the first to break the eye contact, clearing his throat and taking a few steps away from the bed. 

“you’re, um… free to move in whenever you’d like,” he tells her, fixing his eyes on the wall as he warms under the unmistakable feeling of her gaze. 

she’s here to find a place to live, he tells himself, not get eyefucked by some stranger. 

regardless, he feels her continue to watch him. he hears her boots click against the flooring as she stands from her position on the bed, walking over to the glass door leading to a shared balcony. outside, the door that connected to his room was just a few feet down from hers. 

he follows her as she walks out, watching her place her hands on the railing and take a deep breath. it was fresh out, the nostalgic smell of a crisp autumn morning. 

“it’s a beautiful area,” she quietly observes, noting the proximity of a park. the dense line of trees provided a bit of privacy for the balcony, but the bustle of passerbys were still visible down below. he hummed in agreement, watching as the balmy breeze tousled her hair. she had a serene look on her face, but she seemed far away. 

“you’re, uh, from the west coast?” he asked, trying to strike up a form of conversation. the glaze over her eyes remained as she followed the sight of a woman pushing a baby stroller through the park. 

“yeah,” she breathed out, “san diego. moved here for a work but my, uh….my mom isn’t doing so well. so i’m going back before christmas.” 

carmen notices the twitch of her lip, gaze still fixed on the woman pushing the stroller. 

“i’m, uh, i’m sorry to hear that,” he responds softly. her gaze breaks away as the woman disappears into the tree line. she meets his eyes and gives him a small smile

“don’t be. we have a…complicated relationship,” she let out a small laugh, nervously looking to the side. 

“yeah, i, uh… i know how that goes,” he admits, “trust me.” 

her smile warmed at this, eyes coming back to scan his face. 

“i hope it’s okay that i’d be here so short term,” she offers. he nods his head. 

“i really just need someone for the first couple months. until i decide whether i want to end my lease or, uh, cough up the extra money,” he reassures with a small smile. 

“well, in that case, i look forward to rooming with you, carmy,” she gleams, pushing herself away from the railing and turning to face the door. he opens it for her, watching as she walks back into the room and takes in the stark emptiness. 

“can i bring some stuff by today?” she asks sweetly, “decorate a little?” 

he nods, reaching into his pocket and pulling out her copy of the key, handing it to her. 

“you live here now, so go crazy,” smiling at the squeal of excitement she let out. unexpectedly, the girl rushed forward and wrapped her arms around carmen. he was a bit stunned, but reciprocated, letting his arms engulf her, a hand resting on her lower back. 

“thank you, thank you, thank you!” she beamed, leaning into him. 

“don’t mention it. really” a smile graced his face, the smell of her hair sweet. he would’ve kept hugging her for a while if it was up to him. 

she pulled away, touching his forearm as she did so. 

“i promise i won’t go too crazy. i noticed you have the place pretty….minamalist.”

he let out a small laugh at this. 

“yeah, i’m…not much of a decorator,” he confessed, “my apartments have always been pretty boring.” 

“sounds like you need a woman’s touch?” she asked, giving him an innocent smile. his brain stuttered for a minute, eyes flickering down her face to her lips. he really did need a woman’s touch. but that’s obviously not what she meant.

“yeah,” he cleared his throat “yeah, definitely.” 

she let out a small giggle, “okay. i’ll be back in a few hours.”  

-

as the door slammed behind her, the girl released an exacerbated breath, running her hands through a mess of hair. she made her way through the complex, pressing the elevator button. 

her cheeks felt hot—her whole body felt hot, actually. what the fuck did she get herself into? to make a commitment to a roommate was one thing, to make a commitment to one that was so offensively hot was just stupid. 

he had caught her completely off guard, too. she had only heard carmen as a woman’s name, so the phone call came as a bit of a shock, the meeting an even bigger one. 

she knew she would have to stay away from him, roommate are strictly off limits. 

do not make a move, do not make a move, do not make a move!

it would make everything so complicated, and all she really needed was a place to stay for a few months. but these words she repeated like a mantra did nothing to take away from the fact that she wanted him, bad. from the second he opened the door and she stared into his strikingly blue eyes. from when she raked her eyes down his body, taking in the way his pecs strained against his shirt, tattoos decorating his muscular, capable arms. she was so warm when he wrapped himself around her, hands settling on her lower back…she just wished they had gone lower, touched her more. 

he smelled so fucking good, too, when they had hugged. the smell of his deodorant made her a little dizzy, and gave her a dull ache between her legs. 

the ding of the elevator made her jump, disrupting her thoughts as she stepped through the open doors.

why did she flirt with him so much? she prayed he didn’t think she was a desperate weirdo—it had just been so long since she had been satisfied in that way. and as she sat on the bed, and he stood looking down at her hungrily as if he wanted to dominate her, she quickly decided that she would’ve let him. 

the heat of her skin did not relent, so she began gathering her hair atop her head, molding it into a bun and securing it with a hair tie. 

she had a few hours to take a cold shower, get it together, and call the movers to load up her boxes.

it would be fine, she told herself. everything would work out as long as she didn’t make a move. and carmen seemed gentlemanly enough to reciprocate, minus the few glances she saw him sneak of her. 

she promised herself to not act on the urges. and to her credit, she didn’t. for a while, at least. 

it wasn’t until tonight, about four weeks after moving in, that things started to get complicated. 

it was easy, at first, to resist the flirting and the tension—mostly because carmen was never home.

he left before she woke up and only returned back after she had gone to sleep. that was the cost of being a michelin star chef though, which she had found out not from him, but from a curious google search about his restaurant. 

she decided to confront him about this, curious why he was so humble about such a title. he responded along the lines of a nonchalant, “i didn’t think it mattered.” 

he was a tough person to gauge—always seeming so lost within his own head. the girl felt as if she couldn’t get a good read on him, which was an unusual feeling for her. 

there were moments, however, when it seemed as if she would break down a wall, illuminating herself in a stream of light from within him.

one of those moments was tonight, coming home from dinner with coworkers. she usually would just opt to go straight home after working overtime, but her boss insisted on a get-together to celebrate the end of their project. having to socialize with coworkers after hours was entirely draining, and she was more than ready to be home. 

it was cold and dark, after 10 o’ clock—not that she took notice. the streets shone with the rain of a passed storm, reflecting the light of the street lamps in a blurry haze.

the girl took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the muggy post-rain sweetness of the october air. the walk allowed her to clear her mind a bit, taking notice of the perpetual heat that burned within her. 

god, she needed to blow off some steam. her hand came to thread through her hair, mind flashing to carmen. 

it had been so long since she was with a man—almost forgetting how it felt entirely. how it felt to be kissed, to be touched…how it felt to be full. she let out a small breath at this thought. she wondered if he was well endowed, or on the smaller side? if he was shaved or natural? if he had a curvature to him? circumcised or uncir-

“jesus christ,” she exhales, “i need to get a grip,” the reminder out loud seemed to cut her thoughts short, at least for the most part, as she approaches their building.

she makes her way inside and navigates up to their floor, unlocking the door to their unit, eyebrows furrowing as she took notice of the multiple lights on. she supposes that she had forgotten to turn them off, mentally chastising herself before locking the door behind her and setting her bag and keys down. 

it felt good to be home, stripping off her blazer and making her way to the kitchen. 

she opens the cupboard to grab a glass, filling it with ice. then she pulls a cold ginger beer and lime out of the fridge to make herself a drink. the vodka came a little heavy handed, only partially on accident. 

she takes a long sip before making her way over to and up the stairs. she follows the dark hallway to her room, where she puts on some music and cracks the window to let the rainy breeze pour in. 

the girl hums along gently to the music as she stands in front of her mirror and begins to strip her clothes off. she admires her physique as the alcohol begins to quickly initiate a pleasant buzz. 

the girl leaves her bra and underwear on, admiring the delicate lace that adorned the curvature of her body. her eyes fall onto the candles on her dresser, deciding that a hot bubble bath would help melt the day away. so she takes another sip and walks to the bathroom, continuing to hum the song that reverberates through the speaker. she sways her hips to the music as she walks, even adding a little twirl to help lighten her mood. 

as she goes to grab the bathroom’s knob to twist, it begins to turn on its own, the sudden realization making her heart drop to her stomach all too late. 

the door swings open and the girl finds herself face to face with a shirtless carmen, hair wet and skin dewy with water droplets.

she stumbles back slightly and his strong hands grab the sides of her arms. out of instinct she places her free hand on his chest, the drink she holds splashes a few drops out onto her hand. she steadies herself, cheeks flushing. 

“fuck, carm, i- i’m sorry, i didn’t know you were…” she trails off with a deep breath, her eyes darting down his chiseled chest, to his abdomen, to the deep cut v of his pelvis, down to the tuft of dark hair peaking out from beneath the edge of the towel. 

well, that answered one of her questions.

the girl tears her eyes away from the arousing sight, bringing them up to meet his own. she watches as his own eyes drag down her scantily clad form, hearing him deeply exhale before bringing his eyes back up to meet hers. 

his blue gaze had a dark glint as he intensely stared down at her, his lips slightly parted, brows furrowed, as if he couldn’t fully rationalize the predicament they were in. 

she could smell the fresh scent of his body wash, the sharp cleanness of his deodorant. it makes her lean closer unintentionally, eyes droop slightly and lips part as she feels her body heat up. 

he was incredibly firm underneath her fingertips, sturdy and strong, and still a bit damp from his shower. she would’ve kept touching him too, but his hands fall from her arms, taking a small step back, snapping his eyes shut tightly and rubbing his forehead with his hand. 

“shit, i-uh, i’m sorry,” he forces out in a strangled voice, eyes glancing towards the ceiling as if to avoid the temptation that stood in front of him. 

“n-no, my fault, really. i-… i didn’t realize you were home yet,” she forces out, feeling the flush of embarrassment from her cheeks, crossing her arms over her chest to provide some modesty. she leans against the door frame.

“i was gonna take a hot bath. rough day,” she elaborates as a bit of an afterthought. he deeply inhales and his eyes trail back down to her before noticing the glass she was holding. 

“yeah?” he asks, “what are y’drinking?” he nudges his head forward, gesturing to the cup.

her eyes dart down to the glass, droplets of condensation cool against her fingers. 

“um… moscow mule,” she confesses softly, small smile creeping onto her lips, “wanna try?” she offers. 

he gives her a grin, reaching out for the drink. she tries to ignore how his fingers brush over her own. 

carmen brings the glass to his lips and takes a decently long sip, eyebrows furrowing as the bitterness graces his tongue, swallowing harshly. 

“shit, that’s strong,” smile on his face as he coughs lightly. she bursts out into giggles, throwing her head back. 

“it was on accident,” she fibs. 

he raises his eyebrow at this, which makes her laugh harder. he feels himself grin at the sight, not sure he’s ever seen her smile so big. it’s pretty, he thinks. really fuckin’ pretty. 

“it’s good, though,” he praises, handing it back. 

“want one?” she questions, leaning forward a bit, glass coming back up to press to her lips. carmy fixates on the sight for a moment, on her supple and sweet looking lips, before lightly clearing his throat. 

“yeah, i’d, uh… i’d love one.”

the girl flashes him another sweet smile, turning on her heel and walking out of the bathroom. 

“i’ll meet you downstairs then,” she chimes. as she leaves, carmen slides his eyes down her form, admiring her toned back and tracing down the alluring indentation of her spine. his gaze very quickly falls to her ass, clad in a cheeky cut of lace, watching as it slightly bounces in tandem with her steps. his breath catches, feeling himself harden beneath his towel, face heating as a throbbing sensation begins to come on.

he begins to follow her, finding himself so distracted by the sight that he almost follows her all the way into her bedroom, only snapping out of it when he sees her start to unclip her bra. 

he abruptly stops and turns to walk to his own room, taking a few deep, slow breaths once he gets. there. his hands come to rest on his hips, gazing down at the tented cloth of the towel before walking to his dresser to grab a large black t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. as he slides into them, he checks in the mirror to make sure the shirt hung over his hips to cover his very apparent arousal. 

he makes his way downstairs, hearing soft music play from the kitchen. a song with guitar. pretty, but sounded kind of sad. 

his roommate stands at the kitchen island, garnishing his finished drink with a few mint leaves. she wears a silky bathrobe, her hair clipped up messily. she smiles up at him as he came to the counter, ice clinking against the cold copper mug as she hands it to him. 

“you didn’t make yours in copper?” he asks after giving a soft thanks.

“i’m not an award winning chef,” she rebuts, “i wanted to make sure it was up to your standards,” a slight smile on her lips as she teases him. 

he grins, giving a small roll of his eyes before bringing the drink up for a sip. his eyes widen. 

“shit. this- this is good,” he compliments sincerely, taking another drink. 

“thank you, chef,” she beams. he gives her a smile and a nod, trying to ignore how much he enjoyed hearing the name come from her. 

“by the way,” she continues, “you act very humble, but i think it's really impressive for you to own a restaurant so young.” 

he sets his cup down on the granite. her compliment makes his ears feel warm. 

“it’s, uh…. thank you. we’re still trying to find our rhythm, y’know? but it’s coming together. slowly,” he underplays. the girl nods, taking another sip of her drink. 

“did you always know you wanted to be a chef?” she inquires, leaning over the countertop onto her forearms. carmen had trouble processing her question, too distracted by the view provided from the low-hanging fabric of her loosely tied robe. 

she notices his eyes wander and her skin heats under his gaze. she pushes her chest out slightly, having little clue why she was entertaining this crush of hers.

“sorry, what?” his reply comes a bit delayed. she gives a soft giggle.

“did you always want to be a chef? or did someone inspire you?” she notices the way his face drops ever so slightly. 

“i, uh… i’ve wanted to be a chef for a long time. and uh, i think my brother probably had a big part in inspiring me,” he pauses, and she nods. 

“that’s sweet,” a smile on her face, “only the truly inspired go on to own a restaurant.”

“yeah, he uh…he actually left his restaurant to me. used to be a sandwich shop. my dad owned it, then…left it to mikey.” his eyes drift to the skin of her neck, landing on a dainty necklace. 

“are you two close?” she asks, heat from her hands causing the ice of her drink to melt and shift, clinking against the glass. 

he pauses again, unsure of how to approach this, his glazed eyes giving him away a bit. she breaks the silence. 

“i’m sorry, i don’t mean to pry-”

“-no, no, it’s…it’s fine,” he interjects, “mikey actually…he died two years ago. he, uh… he killed himself.” his tone softened.  

carmy wasn’t sure why he was opening up so much, revealing far more than he usually did when people asked questions about mikey. when he met her eyes again, she had a sorrowful look on her face. 

“fuck, carm, that’s-… i’m so sorry for your loss,” she tells him with genuinity. 

“it, uh….” he goes to brush it off like he usually does, but he can’t bring himself to do it as he looks into her eyes. he swallows. 

“thank you.” he says sincerely, giving a small nod. his throat begins to burn, and he looks away. 

he had to break the news to plenty of people before this, so he wasn’t sure why this time felt so different. but it did. 

“he’d be really proud of you, you know,” she tells him after a moment, “you’re doing a good fuckin’ job.” 

carmen meets her eyes again when she says this, and just stares at her for a moment. his chest flutters at the praise, and his slow manual breaths do nothing to stop the heavy pounding of his heart. 

“i, uh,” he rasps, swallowing before continuing, “thank you. i appreciate it,” he says, “really.” 

the girl gives him a sweet smile and nods before coming to stand up straight. she sinches the string of her robe around her waist. 

“i think i’m gonna go take my bath now.”

“enjoy,” he tells her, small smile on his face. she moves around the edge of the counter, sweetly running her hand over his arm as she walks away. 

carmen knows this is just a friendly gesture, yet he still feels goosebumps rise on his skin following her touch. he hears her humming softly as she walks up the stairs.

-

there was nothing that a hot bath wouldn’t fix. especially coupled with some extensive self care, it would prove to be a form of therapy to the girl time and time again. she feels entirely satisfied, except for the fact that the final product that would seal the night in has gone missing. 

on the walk to her room, she glances at carmen’s wide open door. his light was off, but she could hear quiet music coming from the room. 

she approached, softly knocking on the door frame.

“hey carm, have you seen a little black container anywhere? it’s my lip mask” she leans against the opening, and takes a minute to admire the way he reclines on the bed, arms behind his head, black shirt laying on the floor.

he turns his head, taking in the image of her glowy skin, gracefully illuminated by the light of the hallway, loosely covered by the same silky, short bathrobe. 

“yeah, i uh, think i saw it in the downstairs bathroom,” he offers. 

she takes a small step into the room, turning her head to the small TV on his dresser. she watches for a minute before gasping. 

“no way,” she lets out a small laugh, “this used to be one of my favorite movies growing up.”

“for real?” he smiles. 

“hell yeah. you have good taste carmy.”

he scans his eyes over her form as she watches the screen. 

“yeah, i guess i do.”

she brings her gaze back to meet his, tilting her head. carmen felt emboldened by the double-shot drink she fixed him, keeping his eyes locked with hers. 

“wanna watch with me?” he invites. 

she smiles, pausing for a moment, bringing her finger to her lips as if she was deliberating. he finds this endearing, and enthusiastically watches as she saunters to his bed and crawls on. 

carmy sits up onto his forearms, head resting back against the headboard, shifting to make room for her to scoot in next to him. and she does, sitting upright with her knees to her chest, closer than he thought she would’ve, side of her thigh resting against his arm. she smells incredible, and carmen feels an overwhelming, almost primal magnetism towards the girl.

his eyes are fixated on the screen, but he doesn’t register the movie at all. all he can focus on is the smell of her and the warmth of her body pressed against his. 

about 30 minutes into their shared viewing, the girl releases a big yawn, shuffling down to rest her head on the stacked pillows, continuing to watch the movie but feeling her eyes grow heavier by the minute. carmen’s bed was comfy, and she could help but fall into a light slumber.

he doesn’t even notice until he softly laughs at one of the scenes, and she stays silent, soundly dozing. in that moment he’s graced with the rare opportunity to lovingly study her face. his eyes trail over her eyebrows, her cheeks, rosy from her bath, some soft freckles scattered about. he studies the slope of her nose and plush of her lips, then folds his arms behind his head and goes back to watching the movie, his own eyes feeling a bit heavy. 

carmen feels the girl shift, assuming she was waking up. instead, she slings an arm over him, face nuzzling into his chest. when he surprisedly turns to face her, he finds her eyes still shut. every bit of focus he had accumulated prior vanished, now only being able to feel the hammering in his chest, the warmth of her body against his—the way her hand splays across his bare skin. 

he just focuses on his breathing. 

not much more time had passed before she snuggles even closer, hoisting a leg up over him. he stays completely still as to not disturb her sleep, even though his arms pinned behind his head were beginning to feel like static.

the man silently marvels at how well she fit against him, slowly shutting his eyes as he feels her nuzzle her face further into him. 

carmy begins to doze off, noise from the movie droning in the background, darkness of the room enveloping the two. 

they stay that way for another hour, peace only broken at the shrill of carmen’s ringtone that pierces through the silence. 

he feels her startle, grabbing on to him a bit tighter. his arm instinctively comes to wrap around her, hand resting on her back as he reaches over to grab his phone on the nightstand. he mentally curses the unknown caller as he declines the call, noting by his phone clock how late it had gotten. 

he hears the girl let out a groan, still draped over him, readjusting her head to lay on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck. 

he kept silent and didn’t move. 

“m’sorry,” she mumbles, realizing their predicament, “you should’ve pushed me off of you,” her voice drowsy. 

“i fell asleep too,” he justifies, “got too comfortable.”

she lets out a hum of agreement.

“yeah,” scooting closer so that her face almost presses into his neck, “you are really comfortable.” 

its difficult for carmen to keep his composure, jaw tightening as she moves closer. he feels her smooth her hand over his bare chest and splay it over his sternum. he had no idea what was happening, but he knows he’s never wanted anything more than for her to keep touching him. 

“your heart is beating so fast,” she softly observes, drowsily shutting her eyes again. 

he clears his throat. 

“the phone scared me,” a fib.

he feels her smile against his neck, and they stay laying like that in silence for another few minutes. carmen slowly regains control over his breathing, repeating to himself do not get turned on, shutting his eyes tightly. 

after a moment, he feels her soft lips creep against his neck, and then she presses a small kiss into the skin. it feels as if a spark shoots down his spine, tingling throughout his body. 

the man quickly rationalizes the situation, thinking she must have done it on accident. then she does it again, this time higher up his neck and closer to his ear. it was a longer kiss, distinct, and then he feels the warmth of her breath again. 

carmen shifts, craning his neck downwards to look at her. she meets his eyes, and he sees the mischievous glint he was so endeared with from when they met. 

his arm is still around the girl, her hand still caressing his chest. she moves it down slowly, fingertips smoothing along his skin to touch his abdomen. she doesn’t say anything, just keeps touching him, feeling the firmness of his body.

her pointer finger traces lower, dragging over the deep cut of his v-line, stopping when she hits the waistband of his sweatpants. he audibly exhales at this. 

she can see the wanting in his eyes from the dim light of the hallway, 

she knows she should stop herself. but between the smell of his skin and the tingling within her core, she felt as if she physically couldn’t stop. she was coming onto the one man she told herself she couldn’t have, yet her body felt so hot. and he was so….

the girl moves closer to him, their faces mere inches apart. 

the pair are completely silent as carmen examines her face, watching as she bites her lip. without trying to stop himself, he reaches up, thumb coming to pull her lip from between her teeth. he runs the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, pushing it to the side a bit, pulling it down a bit, testing how soft and pliant she was beneath him. 

she exhales, and her fingers slide ever so slightly under the waistline of his sweats. she can feel curls of his pubic hair, giving her a hot, pulsing sensation within her core. the small bathrobe seems to suddenly feel constricting.

carmen sharply exhales through his nose as he feels her fingers creep beneath. he slides his hand over her cheek to grip her face tightly as a warning. the girl meets his eyes, noticing how dark they had become. she can’t help her gaze falling down to his plush lips, staring at them for longer than she should before looking back up to him with heavy eyelids. 

if carmen had more sense, he would pull away and turn on the light. maybe ask her to go back to her own room. but he didn’t, so instead he leans in, just far enough so his lips lightly ghosted over hers—just far enough to let her decide. he was trying to control himself. if it were up to him in that moment, he would grab her, tear off the skimpy bathrobe, and take her for himself. 

but he wanted to be more of a gentleman than that. 

she lets out a soft gasp at the proximity, able to feel the heat from his face.

he’s so close, she thinks, smells so good. 

she throws caution to the wind and decides she wants this. 

badly. 

the girl leans in and presses a slow, soft kiss to his lips. this ignites something in her, and even though she told herself to pull away after the first kiss and refrain from letting this go too far, she gets a taste of him and immediately craves more. 

carmen enthusiastically reciprocates the kiss, hand gripping her face tighter and pulling her closer. they stay gentle at first, slow. but then she whimpers into his mouth at the sensation and it spurs him on, finding himself entirely too worked up from just kissing. 

the kisses became a bit firmer, hungrier, messier, and carmy slips his tongue into her mouth. the room feels too hot all of the sudden, ferocity of the kiss growing—their teeth bump. 

he pulls away from the kiss, lips still ghosting hers. 

“we should, uh” he rasps, interrupted by the girls continued eager kisses, “we should stop.” 

she pauses and nods. 

“yeah,” biting at her lip, “yeah, you’re right.” 

carmen contradicts himself and captures her lips again, telling himself that it’s to cherish the feeling before stopping. the girl moans into the kiss, and he deepens it again. 

so much for stopping. 

her hand slips further into his sweatpants, and she wraps her fingers around his erection. he releases a low, throaty groan, and slides his hand down to grasp the side of her neck, thumb across her throat. 

she leans into his touch, beginning to gently stroke the length of him, fingers loosely grasping. 

he was thick from what she could feel, and long enough to make the motion feel cramped within the confines of his sweatpants. 

their kisses increase in ferocity and she grips him tighter. he softly bites her lip, and she lets out a hum. 

“fucking touch me already, carm,” her demand comes breathily, body growing increasingly hot. 

“yeah?” another kiss. she squeezes her fingers around him. 

“mmhm,” she breathes, growing impatient. his hand shifts to wrap around the front of her throat, fingers lightly pressing into her.

“ask nicer,” he demands, voice low. 

she feels a hitch in her breathing, surprised by the tingle his words sent through her. 

never before having to ask twice, she lets out a frustrated groan and takes her hand out of his pants. she pulls the front of her loose robe open, exposing her bare chest. 

“fuck,” he groans, eyes graciously raking down her form, able to make out the curve of her breasts in the low light of the room. 

“touch. me.” she whines, too proud to beg for him. 

his hand falls from her neck, fingertips teasing down her sternum. she lets out a breath of relief too soon—feeling him lightly ghost over her perked nipple and trace down her ribs. 

“carm,” she complains. he ignores her, coming to kiss her neck instead. her scent was intoxicating, and he feels himself physically strain to keep from giving her what she wanted, finding similar pleasure in the knowledge that she was growing increasingly desperate for him. 

his hand continues its trail downwards, pushing her bathrobe the rest of the way open. he slides his fingers down her stomach slowly, cherishing the softness of her skin, sliding to grasp her hip, rubbing his thumb along the curve of her pelvis. the minute he saw her he swore to himself he would take his time with her, and that he did. 

she lets out a huff and grabs his hand, trying to pull him towards where she wants him. he only tightens his grip on her hipbone. 

“hey,” he scolds sternly into her neck, biting her softly, “be fuckin’ good.”

she gasps at his bite, arching her back for more. 

“then give me what i want,” she pleads, hand gripping onto his arm. she feels him gently smile into her skin. 

“yeah?” he keeps kissing her neck, “what do you want, pretty girl?”

she feels a tingling at the name, fingers dragging up his arm, gripping onto the muscle of his bicep. 

“i want you to fuc-” the same shrill ringtone blares into the silence, simultaneously vibrating the nightstand. the two jump, the girl pulling her hand away from carmy as if he were hot. his fingers grip her hard enough to bruise, before pulling away and coming to rub over his forehead, jaw tightly clenched.  

as the girl recovers herself with her bathrobe, he angrily grabs his phone and answers. 

“what?” he barks into the line. she sits up and smooths her fingers through her hair, dangling her legs over the bed. 

maybe it was a sign that they were interrupted, she thinks, suddenly bashful about the entire situation, heat of her skin relentlessly burning. 

“fuck,” he curses into the phone, “how bad is it?” eyes glancing over to the girl sitting on his bed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“alright. yeah, i’ll be there in 20,” he begrudgingly says before hanging up the phone. she looks at him questioningly. 

“there was, uh, a fuckin’ leak in one of the pipes. part of the kitchen is flooding.”

“yeah,” she nods, effectively hiding her disappointment, “you should definitely go take care of that,” standing up and turning to walk out. 

he calls her name and she stops, turning back expectantly. 

“we’ll, uh,” he meets her eyes, “we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” 

she puts a small smile on her lips and nods, before turning again and walking to her own room. her heart was still relentlessly beating against her ribcage—skin still hot, still wound so tightly. 

it was a stupid idea to entertain, and she’s glad it didn’t happen. 

at least she repeats that to herself over and over again hoping it’ll start to feel true. 

carmen lets out a labored exhale, gaze falling down to the throbbing tent in his pants, feeling more wound up now than he ever had. 

he regrets not touching her as soon as he had the opportunity, instead trying to tease her. he just really enjoyed how she got so flustered, impatient—certain that the girl had never experienced having to beg for anything before. 

he wanted more. he knew he shouldn’t, but he really did. 

she was so soft beneath him, and pretty, and desperate. he didn’t expect her to have such an attitude, though, finding himself completely roused from the bite of her interaction. 

carmen turns on the lamp, flooding the room with light and squinting his eyes. he stands up to get dressed, ready to go attend to the early morning disaster in the kitchen. 

as he passes her by room he swears he can hear her softly moaning. 

-

next part

[diejager]

This is omegaverse related so please here me out… What about something different? What about…

A

Feral Omega?

I’m talking like, this omega isn’t your typical omega. This omega is downright dangerous, reports of Omega going feral but causes of harm to them due to some omega discrimination.

So what if, reader who is feral omega, is down right butchering enemies. And doesn’t hesitate to almost maul some alpha recruits if they want to mess with her..

Cw: omegaverse, feral!reader, violence, blood, weird pack dynamic, discrimination, protective behaviour, tell me if I missed any.

You were a ‘one-of-a-kind’ omega —spoken with utmost reverence by them. You were their strong and independent omega, whispered in crowded halls, mumbled in darkest nights, screamed in busy moments, and kissed to in warm and comfortable beds. You were anything but a strong and dedicated and reliable soldier, someone Ghost had grown to respect after a joint Op, then coaxed to rely on by the others when they saw how welcoming Ghost was and simply how skillful you were at your job. 

You were small but spry, less bulky but flexible, weaker but resourceful. You were everything they sought for in an omega. You were so much alike Soap, yet molecularly different. Though it was every alpha’s dream of finding a soft and loving mate to provide and protect for, someone smaller and more fragile than their thick muscles and broad build, there was a thrill in being reminded that they weren’t always at the top, being grounded and brought back down from their high horses. Against all of traditional mating couples, your current age and time had demanded more equal partnering, a relationship where both parties stood on the same ground. 

And Ghost and Price thrived on that, their employment demanded a level of independence from their mates and pack mates, the capability of standing on their own and manage grief and stress. That’s where Soap stood, an omega at it’s finest, strong and independent and emotionally knowledgeable, the glue to their pack, and Gaz, the stabiliser, the soft and gentle hand that reminded them of who they were. 

Then you came bulldozing through their well-built dynamic: feral and wrathful, full of hate and anger for the world who had wronged you. When the military had rejected you for both your sex and gender, you’d worked up the ranks in the CIA with your blood, sweat and tears, starting from a fresh agent - a rookie - to an experienced one. You’d gotten so far that Laswell had eventually reach out to you, acknowledged by someone so powerful and partnered with The Ghost had gotten you the acknowledgment and respect you’d dreamed of. 

It was a rough start with Ghost, but he learned to rely on you as much as you did him, you had formed a mutual understanding that only grew into fondness after meeting the rest of his pack. They were a functioning mix of weird and quirky: a leading alpha that was a big, soft bear, another alpha that was rough on the edge but caring, an overenergetic and fiery omega and a beta that represented everything you liked in one, calm, open-minded and smart. It was odd seeing you join them so often and continuously on Ops that didn’t need much of CIA intervention, but you all made it work.

You’d become a familiar face on base, a blunt and no-nonsense agent to new people, but cracked jokes and smiled with those you knew. Fiercely protective of your pack as much as they were with you. If Soap was a menace, then you were an omen, your deep frown and growling snarl, baring your teeth as a warning before you attacked. The world had taught you to bark and bite —and bite you did, a strong and dangerous one, leaving you bruised and roughed up, but your opponent gasping for life and battered.

Honestly, sometimes you were more trouble than it’s worth, but wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[jjuniehao]

[02:39 pm]: bang chan

“come on, you need some fresh air!” you whine, squeezing chan’s cheeks when he still won’t budge, “maybe touching some grass, too. all you do is sit in this stuffy room, you probably have brain cells dying by the minute!”

chan breaks through his straight-faced demeanour and snorts at you, hands finding your waist and pulling you onto his lap, chin resting on your shoulder.

“baby, i’d love to, really. i wanna go on a real date with you so bad, but right now i just can’t spare the time, i’m sorry,” he mumbles, imagining the scowl you’re most likely wearing on your face right now, pressing a kiss behind your ear in hopes of soothing you a little.

his hopes be damned. though.

you groan, taking your boyfriend by surprise when you rise up from his lap, placing your hands on his shoulders and bending your knees to be on eye level with him.

“listen, mister. i get it, okay? i get it so hard— really, i understand, work is demanding and it’s hard to stay on top,” the serious look on your face makes him break out in a goofy smile, nodding along in hopes of maybe, perhaps receiving some praise for being such a diligent, hard worker from his favourite person…?

“but,” your tone drastically changes, furrowed eyebrows and lips pulled into a pout he’d really love to kiss instead of having you rip into him and his “capitalistic victim mindset” that “keeps him working until he eventually disintegrates with no trace left since he lived to work instead of working to live.”

pretty dramatic, but he gets your point. kinda.

“i’ve tried it all. i tried to be all caring and gentle to get you to take a break for just one night, i even brought cupcakes!”

“they were so good, ba—“

“i tried to be strict, i tried to be all smart and brought up all the health issues overworking and stress can cause,” chan looks at you sheepishly, feeling a little guilty for getting you so worried and desperate, though it also makes his heart flutter in a weird, twisted way.

“so i’m just going to be honest, and maybe a little selfish, and you’ll be the good boyfriend i know you are and agree with me, okay?” chan blinks at you, and before he can even come up with a counter, you have his cheeks cupped in your hands, determined eyes boring into his.

“i miss you. i miss spending time with you. i want my boyfriend. you always say i’m allowed to be a little selfish, so i’m cashing that in right now. i want to be selfish and i want you to go and have this cute little picnic i prepared. i even made mini sandwiches. do you know how annoying it is to cut lettuce into little squares?” chan stays quiet for a while. every second of silence makes the confidence you had built up shatter a little more, your eyes starting to nervously dart all over his face.

suddenly, you’re pulled back into his lap, face in his hands, cheeks squished, frantic kisses planted all over your face.

“wah, you’re so cute. what am i gonna do with you? how am i gonna work from now on when all i’ll be able to think about is your little speech?” he whines, pressing a kiss to your lips every few words, making you burst out in giggles he loves so much. “is that a yes?” the hopefulness in your voice makes chan melt, stealing another quick kiss from you.

“yeah but also no? i have maybe,” he reaches towards his phone laying on the desk, checking the time, “around 20 minutes. think we can make it outside, eat, and be back in that time?” chan is almost sure you’ll refuse, upset that he can’t spare you a little more time. instead, you practically shoot up from his lap, “well, then what are you waiting for?”

and with that you’re flying out the door and down the hall, chan scrambling to catch up with you, stupid lovestruck smile on his face.

part of the bucketlist boyfriends series

*i can’t link it since it messes w the tags </3

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Outrun the Future - G.Cleven Ch 4

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 5

Ch 4

The group was quickly hauled off into interrogation, leaving little to no time to process what happened. It was the same routine with every mission, never deviating no matter the number of remaining pilots. Marley learned early on that she needed to turn off her emotions until after all the facts were given. There was no time for tears in the middle of a war.

The interrogation room was built for teams of men. With the B-17’s holding 10 crew members, the tables had enough seats to accommodate them. So, when each P-51 pilot went to their own table, it showed the others how small they appeared. They often overlooked the fragileness fighter pilots can be when their planes prove to be some of the more superior ones in the sky. But seeing the individual pilots surrounded by no one but themselves, pity almost seemed to be thrown at them.

Bucky stood with his back against the wall, near the table his sister was at. None of them knew what their mission was, but clearly something went wrong for three pilots to not return. He needed to know why for a few reasons. One, to relay to the boys’ changes from the enemy that could impact their future missions. And two, to know how bad it is when his sister gets sent off. The constant battle between Major and brother was soon becoming an issue.

He stayed close by as she started recalling the details of the mission, providing support while staying out of her way. She had made it clear this morning when leaving without informing him, that she was her own person who didn’t need the support of her brother to get through tough situations. But he planned to be there in case the independence faltered.

Listening to the way Marley talked, it worried him with how different she was. Gone was the cheerful and free-spirited sister he had grown up with. In her place was a level-headed soldier who could recite facts about a mission that got three of her teammates taken or killed.

Before he could dwell on the change too long, she was done with her part of the interrogation and stood up to leave. If she was surprised to see her brother standing close enough to hear, she didn’t show it. Instead, she had schooled her face into a look of indifference. Something that was bound to haunt her brother in his sleep.

Buck had waited for the Egan siblings outside, wanting to see for himself how the two of them were. Marley was the first one he saw step out of interrogation and the blank look on her face didn’t tell him too much. He had only known her for a short time and while she seemed to be a carbon copy of John. He wasn’t sure how she handled stress. Bucky threw jokes around and shots back, not wanting to feel anything. The nights starting to get more frequent where he had to help his friend back to their bunk safely.

But Marley at this moment looked void of any emotion. The tears from earlier were long gone and in their place was a face that wasn’t going to falter.

Bucky stepped out close behind his sister, running a hand through his hair. Buck could easily see how much that situation got to him and wondered how bad it was.

“You okay, Marley?” Buck asked her while keeping his eyes on his friend. She nodded her head at him while Bucky shook his. He had a feeling things would play out like this, he just wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“Why don’t we get you somethin’ to eat? Let you settle back down from this mornings run.” Buck kept his tone light, not trying to seem like he was forcing the idea on her. He learned with Bucky that the second you demand something, he will do everything in his power to do the opposite. And if had to bet, Marley was going to be the same.

“I think I’m going to take a shower and get out of this flight gear before I do anything.” Buck looked to her brother to see how he would react to that answer, but he didn’t say a word.

The two men walked her back to her bunk, no one saying a thing. Marley was trying her absolute hardest to not have a second breakdown. Especially since her brother now knew exactly what went on up there. Bucky knew if he opened his mouth, he would be yelling at her for a number of different things. The main one was for joining the damn war as a pilot. And Buck was in foreign territory, not knowing what toes he could step on if he led the conversation. So, the trio remained silent.

Once they arrived at their destination, Marley gave them a slight nod in thanks. Buck looked to his friend and saw he was going to let her walk in there without a single word. He sighed and said, “We will be down at the mess hall if you want to join us after.” His words stopped her for a second, hand hovering over the doorknob. “Thanks.” It was a quiet reply, but words were clearly the goal with the Egan siblings. Buck offered a small smile and turned back to Bucky after she shut the door.

“How bad?” The two started walking to the mess hall, now having to set up camp there for at least an hour. They weren’t sure if the younger Egan would show up, but they wanted to give her a chance.

Bucky ran a hand over his face, “There were more enemy fighters this time which makes me nervous for when we go back up. Seems like they are pulling more of their resources to the air. Something we need to start planning for.”

Buck slowly nodded his head at the answer Major Egan gave. While he had only gone on one mission so far, he got a good look at how bad things could get. Or so he thought. “And Marley?” He needed the brother answer as well.

“I don’t know, Buck. The way she just turned things off was concerning. It was like my sister was shoved into some far away corner and was replaced by a soldier. And I know what you’re going to say. That we are all soldiers. But that wasn’t Marley in there. It-it was like a shell of her. And I feel like the longer she is out here, the more that shell is going to take over.” Bucky shook his head, recalling what happened in there.

Buck wasn’t sure what to say to that. He knew this was Marley’s 9th mission and that this isn’t the first time she’s lost people. This was a fraction of the losses compared to what she told him that night. If she was able to bounce back to her normal self after that, he wasn’t concerned. Honestly, he hoped he could do the same once he starts headed up there more.  But her brother didn’t know that.

***

Marley walked into her bunk area; thankful the girls were working. She needed time to process what happened without the worry of someone seeing her. Grabbing a clean uniform, she walked to the showers and started trying to scrub away the losses from today.

The mission was supposed to be simple. A short flight to France to provide support to a small group of bombers. The target wasn’t even high profile, but more of an inconvenience for the enemy. So, when double the amount of Luftwaffe fighter planes headed towards them, they knew the stakes had been raised.

In all honesty, only having three of their planes shot down was a bigger win than they wanted to let on. Even half of the B-17’s was still standing when they got out of enemy territory. But losses still hurt, and the war seemed to be evolving at a rapid pace. She just hoped the US could keep up before too many of them were lost.

The water from the shower soon ran cold, signaling that it was time to get out. One of the main things she missed from back home was long, hot showers. The ones that make it feel like your skin was borderline burning. The water at base never seemed to get above lukewarm.

Marley knew she needed to put on a brave face for her brother. The way he acted walking her to her bunk highlighted the fact that her not being okay will affect him more than her. So, she looked herself in the mirror and nodded her head. I can do this. A small mission never hurt anyone. Well… it hurt three people. She shook her head, not the damn point. We are fine and there is zero reason to act otherwise.

She made sure to repeat those thoughts as she got dressed and headed to the mess hall to meet up with her brother and Buck. Those thoughts started to deviate as the thought of the blonde pilot was brought up. How he managed to become best friends with her brother still confused her. The man was quiet, observant, and calmer than most. All things opposite of John.

But even with him trying to remain a shadow, he still caught her eye. He was confident, he was caring, and he was bound to be trouble.

Marley had made herself promise to not fall for any man during the war. After the carnage of the first mission she went on, it was a wakeup call she needed. Getting close to people out here was dangerous, not knowing if they would make it back.

But when she walked through the doors of the mess hall and was greeted with a gruff “hey doll. I saved you some food.” She knew that promise was going to be broken.

A/N: Thank you so so much for reading! As always, my tags and inbox is always open for you :)

-C

Tags: @probabydeadbynow

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 5.1

oh good he's not making us read a chapter from the point of view of the conspiracy theorist (yet)

... or i guess that could just be these extra materials

bleh. Interesting way of painting a picture of her though. Thinking about the true crime aspect of her video's, the "wouldn't it be great if there was something fucked up here" vibe

what's up with the animals? Not sure who would do that in Kennet, doesn't seem like how anyone's magic normally works. Goblins I guess? Nervous about the livestreaming, none of the Kennet Trio should have their faces out there, even just for mundane reasons

“Do you really think you’re going to stay awake longer than me?” Lucy asked.  “Every time you sleep over, you sleep in.” “‘Cause it’s cozy and low-stress.”

I wonder how Verona normally sleeps at home?

“I wouldn’t move if I could help it.  If it meant you could nap, I wouldn’t,” Verona said. She sounded so serious.

I'm not sure Lucy fully processes how much their friendship means to Verona? They're very close, and it means a lot to both of them, but for Lucy its best friend who she grew up beside, whereas for Verona it seems to have been the only good thing in her life for a while. Most of the time they're at normal levels of friendship, but every so often Verona will get serious and the intensity will skyrocket.

“What if I, like, became a cat, and stayed a cat for most of the time?” Verona asked.  She looked skyward, up at the stars.  “You could keep me around, and every day could be a bit like those days were.  And if you got sick of me, you could dump me on Avery?” “You might be at Avery’s a lot then,” Lucy joked. Verona looked at her, unsmiling, and in the gloom it took Lucy a second to see that Verona looked stung. No, not stung. Wounded.

yeah :( Lucy read this as joking around, but Verona was trying to casually bring up what she sees as her best possible future. Bringing up Avery here was I think mainly a way to not make too many demands on Lucy.

“And you being a full-time cat is the answer to that?” Lucy asked.  “I’m… I’m not connecting the thought.” “Throwing an idea out there,” Verona said, very quiet, almost inaudible. “You don’t really want the cat thing, do you?” Lucy asked. Verona was silent, staring up at the stars.

... she does. And Lucy is right now the biggest reason why she isn't going for it. Verona's been thinking about this for a few arcs, she's started research, and the stumbling point keeps being that Lucy wants them to grow up together. I don't know where this is going to go! I think they need to actually talk about this, because Lucy needs to see how serious Verona is about this, and Verona needs to explain her goals if she wants to keep being a part of Lucy's life as a potential cat. I don't think Lucy will approve of this, and I don't know if I agree with her or not. Regardless, from the book Verona read, it sounds like becoming an Other takes time and resources and decisions about what you want to become, so there's a delay built in to think it over. I think also Verona should spend more time away from home and more time at the school, to give her an idea of other futures she might be giving up.

“There’s a plan.  Maybe she has two girlfriends, not cheating or anything, but as an organized thing.  Or five.”

get it imaginary!Avery

“Cool.  Okay.  She’s athletic but I don’t think she’s five girlfriends athletic.” Verona laughed. “I didn’t mean that!” Lucy corrected.  She cleared her throat. 

don't worry Lucy, I parsed what you meant the first time through. Not surprised how Verona took it though

this sucks to say, but I don’t really feel like I know her.  I want to, but I’m not sure how

it just takes time, and they've only had a couple months

Verona ducked down, opened Lucy’s bag, and grabbed Lucy’s knife.  She held it by the leather sheath, then slapped the handle into Lucy’s hand.  Lucy pulled it free. “Booker’s torch,” she said. The forged blade ignited, gradually taking on a red heat.

oh that's sick. Lucy currently winning for aesthetic

“You’ve been doing the self-affirmation with glamour, right?” Lucy asked.

relieved to finally have confirmation the other two know about this

It was good, Lucy decided, that Verona wasn’t here, listening.  Verona… probably would have been on the same page, on a lot of those things.  Sympathizing to the point she stopped listening.

:[

Did Verona want out of that house that badly?  Was that it?  The quiet child and the domineering, self-indulgent tyrant? So badly she’d just give it all up? The chance of growing up together, graduating University together? Going through life milestones together? Tears welled in Lucy’s eyes. She would. She might. She could.

they need to find a way to get Verona out of her father's house

With our poor Guilherme, you took half of what he had.  Of his love story and mystery, he has only his mystery left.

is the mystery the Carmine Beast? And if so, does that mean once they solve it they lose Guilherme?

“Stop,” Maricica said, calm, as her arm was torn down to bone.  “You know this only gives me power over you.” “I don’t,” he started, mouth bloody and partially full. He swallowed and finished, “care.”

a particularly morbid application of eating faerie food.

[ryanaizan]

Critical Thinking Module, Summative Assessment Compulsory Question 2:

With the deadline for my Summative Submission drawing near, I’m feeling overwhelmed as my assignments have built up after weeks of procrastination. I realise I need to break this habit to prevent things from getting even more out of hand. Thankfully, CTS-A has been a great support. it’s provided me with strategies to manage my stress, stay focused, and regain control over my work. Using the techniques I’ve learned, I feel more grounded and ready to tackle my assignments one step at a time.

Each week has given me new skills and valuable lessons that I’ve continuously applied throughout my first semester. For instance, in my Digital Skills module, I frequently received feedback from my lecturer, Chris, which helped me refine my work. This module demands a high level of creativity and critical thinking. To support this, I use mindfulness techniques, allowing me to think more clearly and make thoughtful improvements to my designs, leading to stronger outcomes.

Many of my modules, such as Craft Workshop and Photography, are structured around critiques and feedback sessions. During these sessions, I receive constructive input on my work, highlighting areas that need improvement or refinement. To address the issues raised in the feedback, I need to apply my problem-solving skills, analysing the critiques carefully and finding effective solutions. This process not only helps me improve my work but also strengthens my ability to think critically and adapt, both of which are essential skills in my field.

To be completely honest, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed by the sheer volume of assignments and tasks that have been handed to me. Balancing school with managing my business brand has been challenging, especially since I also have a part-time job to support my basic needs. It's a lot to handle at once, and at times, it feels like there's just too much on my plate. However, I am determined to find a way to cope with these pressures, overcome the difficulties I’m facing, and ultimately improve my time management and overall ability to juggle these responsibilities.

“I’m about to drive in the ocean

I'ma try to swim from somethin' bigger than me

Kick off my shoes

And swim good, and swim good” -Frank Ocean

(339 Words)

References:

Lyrics | Swim Good (2011), Frank Ocean,

[runnersnz]

“I am Amber, a 29 years old Taiwanese girl. I started my running journey since 2014 and Triathlon for 7 Years. I am a scuba dive instructor, love the ocean and mountain, love sharing, and always outside.

The story of how I came to start running, back in 2015, I was still hustling through college, stressing over that transfer exam. One day a mate asked if I'd be down to join this chill running team. They promised good company, cool running spots, and interesting chats. I was curious and thought WHY NOT?

We were rocking the Nike+ app back then, and the organiser was this GPS Picasso, creating awesome shapes on our running routes. So, for my first-ever run, picture this: I'm in a Superman cloak, wearing Nike Air Force kicks (not the best for running), and throwing on some short jeans. We hit the streets of Taipei, everyone vibing high and having a blast. Crazy thing is, I smashed 11km that night!

The next day my legs were screaming, but I couldn't wait for the next run. It was crazy - I never thought I could pull off running that far. It blew my mind how positive vibes could turn things around. The combo of good company, positive energy, and the thrill of running... Life-changing! It's not just about the distance, it's the feeling of accomplishment, those endorphins kicking in, and connecting with awesome humans. And the organiser's GPS art just added a whole new level of fun. And let's talk about my outfit choice – Superman cloak, Air Force kicks, and short jeans – total madness, right? But it added this fun vibe to the whole adventure. Running with a crew in a supportive setting does wonders for your body and mind.

During my study days, I was heavily into dancing, but the demands of the college transfer exam forced me to step away from the dance group because practice sessions often ran late into the night. That's when I discovered running - a more manageable time commitment and a fantastic way to connect with some genuinely cool people always up for an adventure.

Joining the running community opened up a whole new world for me. The folks I met were not only fantastic running buddies but also amazing individuals from whom I learned a lot. Every run became an opportunity to enjoy the moment and soak in the positive vibes. It was a refreshing change, and I appreciated the flexibility it offered in my schedule.

So, from being a dancer to hitting the pavement, I found a new passion that not only kept me fit but also introduced me to an incredible group of people who shared my love for running and adventure.

After running with this group for two years, completing numerous 10k and 21k races, and even conquering the full marathon with them, I had built a network of amazing people. Then, one day, someone in the group came up with the idea of signing up for a triathlon. My immediate thought again was, "Why not? Sounds like a blast. I’m in!" There was just one hiccup - I wasn't exactly a swimmer, especially in deep water. So, I opted for the easier version of the race that allowed me to use a swimming buoy. Once the decision was made I just signed up for the swim course, diving headfirst into my first-ever triathlon training. I was so pumped that I didn't end up using the swimming buoy, and even registered for a 10k run the day after the triathlon race. And you know what? I got hooked. It was mind-blowing to witness all the hard work pay off. I discovered a version of myself I hadn't really met before and realised I was stronger and more capable than I ever gave myself credit for.

One of my highlights has been Cairns IM 70.3 in 2023. All the hard work paid off. 1.9km Swim, 90km Bike, 21km RUN. Swim 40 mins, Bike 3:03, Run 1:56 - 5:47, A massive PB and pure happiness. My past triathlon before this was six years ago, and I finished it in 6 hours and 33 minutes. Back then, my run never went sub-2 hours. Fast forward to now, I achieved a running personal best in the 70.3 distance after seven years of doing triathlons. It hit me – I've never really pushed myself hard and put in the effort like I did this time. Legs were hurting, but my brain was stoked. After navigating through numerous heartbreaks in life and taking a hiatus from training when I first started travelling, I can proudly reclaim the title of Triathlete. Grateful that I'm still capable of stepping onto the course and shining once again.

Queenstown Half Marathon 2023 was another highlight. My first Half Marathon in New Zealand with a PB 1:50h! Got the transfer slot 2 weeks before race, wasn’t really training for it but just keeping fit. The weather was mint as but the run course was beyond my expectations! Thought it would be a flat road but it turned out to be rolling hills and most of them were trails. Most of my time during race was in pain and not very enjoyable. But this race has amazing scenery and reminds me that I have to be stronger!!

Now I am running for myself – not only to meet people but to stay fit, happy, and healthy. I find it nice when I can dominate my time, be dedicated, and disciplined. It's also fantastic to explore a new place through running and give myself a break from the noise in my brain caused by all the realities of life. I've found that keeping up with running is the only emotional outlet to keep my brain fresh and my mind healthy.

Since I've been away from home for years, travelling can sometimes be a bit stressful for me due to the unstable life and loneliness. People around me come and go, and most of the time, I'm always on the move. I have to relocate to a new city and change jobs every few months because of visa limitations, adapt to a new work environment, and face different challenges in each new place. So I enjoy meeting people in a different kind of way - running.  

Meeting people through running, runners from around the world all share a similar vibe – they're happy, strong, brave, and have a solid mindset. Regardless of why they run or their fitness level, I respect anyone willing to break their comfort zone, embrace discipline, and I'm genuinely happy to get to know these amazing individuals.

Staying fit makes me mentally stronger during my days wandering around the world, and it makes me feel better and happier when I feel LOST while chasing dreams. I won't stop running, and I aspire to grow stronger, both physically and mentally, continually exploring my limits.”

Amber (Tsai Huei Yu) @ambeeryu (Te Anau/Fox Glacier) – Portraits of Runners + their stories @runnersnz

[stratuscloudsurfer]

LOl imagine Emmet having to be carried away from something dangerous, bawling his eyes out and begging Ingo to run away too as he remains behind to give them time to get away. Because I'm just evil like that. Oh and extra fun with all this going on in the post game where there are, like, dangerous legendary pokemon around.

Emmet usually isn’t hard to carry, being that he’s 10 and a fairly scrawny kid, but he becomes exponentially harder to carry when he is kicking and screaming.

No one really knew why the alpha Electivire had suddenly decided that the Summit Camp was built too close to its territory. All they knew was that it was really, really pissed off now. Which was why everyone in the camp was currently retreating to the safety of Moonview Arena. Or, everyone except for Warden Ingo.

It was really kind of lucky that he was around when the enraged electric type started shooting lightning bolts at the tents. Without his quick reflexes and powerful Gliscor, the entire place probably would have been leveled in minutes.

As soon as the attack had started, Ingo shoved Emmet into the arms of a member of the Security Corps and ordered him to “Get him out of here, now!”

Needless to say, little Emmet wasn’t very happy about this. He didn’t like the idea of being separated from his older brother. He wanted Ingo to be heading to safety with them, or if he insisted on staying behind, letting him stay and fight with him.

But Ingo wouldn’t even entertain the idea of Emmet, or anyone for that matter, staying behind to help him.

So he was upset, to say the least.

“Let me go!” He screams, thrashing in the guard’s arms like a wild Barboach. He must have finally decided that it wasn’t worth it to keep taking blows from his flying knees and elbows when they got into the arena, and unceremoniously drops him, cursing in pain.

At this point Melli notices the commotion and the sudden crowd that has formed in the usually abandoned arena. Something must be wrong; that much is certain, and when he sees Emmet looking so distressed, without Ingo, his stomach does a flip.

“What in Sinnoh’s name is all of this about?” He demands.

Emmet’s eyes lock on him. “Melli!” He yells, “There’s a Pokémon—Ingo is—you have to help him!”

Melli’s stomach does another flip. Emmet hasn’t given him much to work with, but it’s enough. Without another word, he dashes to the arena’s entrance, calling for his Skuntank to follow.

When he gets to the Summit Camp, Ingo is locked in a fierce battle against the biggest, most irate Electivire he’s ever laid eyes on. He’s sweating, and has just returned a fainted Gliscor to its pokeball when he sends his Skuntank into the fray. He looks startled when he glances over and notices him, like he’s seen a ghost.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks, bewildered and apparently too stressed for pleasantries.

“Saving your ass, from what it looks like,” Melli fires back.

“Of all the idiotic things to do—“

“Oh, I’m the idiot? Sorry, I would have thought that title would have gone to the guy who was trying to take on the royally pissed off alpha Electivire on his own.”

“I have this handled, Melli. You shouldn’t be here, risking your safety to help me.”

“Well, I’m already here. So stop trying to make me leave.”

Ingo grunts but doesn’t reply. Gliscor is replaced by Probopass, and he continues fighting.

Even with the two wardens fighting side by side, it takes a while to take down the Electivire. By the time it finally wobbles on its feet and topples over in a great crash, both of them are panting and exhausted.

Trudging back up to Moonview Arena to give the all-clear, Melli says, “Emmet is really upset, you know. Why didn’t you let him stay with you?”

Ingo looks outraged. “Emmet is 10,” he says. “He could have gotten hurt!”

“Emmet has kicked your ass several times. He’s strong. He could have helped, probably better than I could.”

As Ingo considers this, his frown deepens. “He’s 10,” he repeats.

“And you are a grown ass adult who knows better than to face a monster like that alone.”

Ingo doesn’t have a proper response to that, so he sighs and says, “You’re right. And I’m sorry for calling you an idiot, by the way. I did really appreciate your help back there.”

Melli spreads his arms and loudly proclaims the Summit Camp free of Electivire’s tyranny as they walk back into the Arena. Not seconds after, Emmet crashes into Ingo’s side in a hug.

“I was so worried!” He blubbers. “Please don’t do that again!”

Melli shoots Ingo what can only be described as a warning look and he gulps before promising, “I won’t.”

[five-rivers]

Danny slowly loses his memories from before the Accident.

“I don’t remember that,” said Danny.  “Are you sure I was there?”

Maddie raised her eyebrows.  “I talked to you about it just last week,” she said. “When I was asking you about what you’d like to do during summer vacation.”

“I remember that,” said Danny, uncurling slightly from his position on the couch.  “I just don’t remember the other thing.  I... maybe we talked about something like it.  When was it?”

“You were twelve,” said Maddie.  “It was just before your birthday.”

Slowly, he shook his head.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I remember, um...  What other vacations did we have?  Before the one where you thought I was crazy, it was, um...” He held his hands as if preparing to count on them.  “We went to New York that one time.  And then the Great Lakes before that...  Oh!  And that haunted house road trip.”

He frowned down at his hands, and Maddie felt something unpleasant curl in her gut.  

“Is that...  All you remember?” she asked.  

“Y-Yeah?  I guess the others were from when I was too young to remember?”

“The haunted house trip was when you were five,” said Maddie.  “Danny... have you been,” she didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to piece together other little oddities into a big picture, “have you been forgetting things?”

“No!” said Danny, defensively, sitting up straighter.  “I’m just...”  He chewed his lip.  “It isn’t as if I’ve forgotten anything recent.”

His abysmal grades and missed curfews begged to differ.

“One second,” said Maddie.  “Stay here.”

She went to her room and fetched one of her largest photo albums.  Danny was still on the couch when she came back, picking at the hem of his pant leg, and staring blankly at the floor.  Maddie sat next to him, making him jump.  She opened the album to a random page.  

“What were we doing here?” she asked.  

“Um,” said Danny, brows pinching together in confusion.  “Shopping?”

“For?” prompted Maddie.  

Danny shook his head.  “It’s just shopping.  It isn’t important.”

“Danny, this is from when we got you that model spaceship.  The one you have hanging up in your room.”

Danny blinked, and slowly shook his head.  

.

The doctor’s office looked clean.  It even smelled clean.  Danny was still doing his level best not to touch anything.  Maddie would have sighed at his behavior, but she was too tense.  She met Jack’s eye.  He looked terrible too.

“There are no signs of Alzheimer’s disease,” said the doctor.  All three of them sighed with relief.  “However...  You said the other symptoms, the difficulty in school, began after the electrical accident?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  

The doctor nodded.  “Electricity can do strange things to the brain, sometimes.  We haven’t been able to find any structural damage, but the activity levels...”  He brought a colored image up on his computer screen.  “This is where long-term memory is stored,” he said. 

“Doesn’t red usually indicate high levels of activity?” asked Jack.

“It does,” said the doctor.  “This is actually higher than usual activity...  Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on here.  I would like to request that you make a record of things that you currently remember as happening in your life, and then come back a month from now.”

“That’s it?” demanded Maddie.  

“Right now, since we don’t know what’s causing this,” said the doctor, “the best we can do is monitor the situation.  We don’t even know if this is an ongoing deterioration, or something more gradual.  On the upside, other than long-term memory, there doesn’t appear to be any damage.  Your timeline after your accident is clear and detailed.  The cognitive tests we put you through actually put you significantly above average...  This is what we can do.”

Maddie didn’t like it.  Danny didn’t look surprised.  Or even particularly upset.  

She caught Jack’s eye again.  They would have to be ready to support him, when the extent of what he had lost fully hit him.  

.

Danny floated down the icy hallway next to Frostbite.  “This isn’t going to be one of those examinations where I have to get undressed, is it?” he asked.  

Frostbite chuckled, but there was an undercurrent to it that usually wasn’t present.  “Only halfway.”  He paused to tap Danny on the chest.  “Your mind is no longer entirely contained in your head, after all.”

Danny rubbed at where Frostbite had tapped him.  “You don’t think that has anything to do with it, do you?”

“I’m unsure,” said Frostbite as they reached the examination room.  “It isn’t unusual for ghosts to lose their memories of their lives, but that is both more immediate and more complete.  Sit down here, and take your shirt off, Great One, and we can begin.”

Danny made a face at the item that looked like an overly complicated dentist’s chair with a large metal disk embedded in the back, but obeyed.  

“Here we are,” said Frostbite, pulling a complicated ring-shaped thing from the chair.  “This part goes around your head,” he said adjusting it to fit.  

Despite his cold core, Danny shivered at the frigidity of the metal.  

“These are to monitor your core, along with the matching one built into the chair,” said Frostbite as he attached several flat disks to Danny’s chest.  

“Are they, like, ultrasound?” asked Danny, running his finger along the edge of one of them.  He didn’t like how they stuck to his skin.  

“They work on a similar principle,” said Frostbite.  He turned on several nearby monitors.  “With this, we will be able to see how your brain and core react in tandem.  Can you transform for me a few times?  I want to compare with the baseline readings we took from you when you first stayed with us.”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

.

“Alright,” said Frostbite.  “Now, I am going to try sending a few low-intensity ectoplasmic pulses and currents through you.  Is that alright?”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

The first few left Danny feeling lethargic and tingly.  Other gave him so much energy he had to leave the room for a few minutes to burn some of it off.  Another, interestingly, turned off his ghost half, not unlike the Plasmius Maximus.

There was a rest period in-between each test, to make sure that they weren’t mixing results.  During those times, Danny and Frostbite would laugh and tell jokes and...

...  Danny trailed off in the middle of a sentence.  “Frostbite?” he asked after a minute.  “What was I just saying?”

.

“I want to stress that this is currently just a theory, Great One,” said Frostbite.  

“It’s okay,” said Danny.  “Just...  What is it?”

“Your memories are recorded in both your brain and your core.  You know this, correct?”

“Yeah.  You told me that a while back.”

Frostbite nodded.  “Normally, if one is turned off, the other one is still recording memories, and the memories will be transcribed.”

Danny nodded.  

“Or, if they are disconnected, in the case of the Plasmius Maximus, or your parents’ ‘Ghost Catcher,’ they will swap memories.  However...”

“Yes?”

“It is my theory that certain kinds of discrepancies between memories can lead to your core deciding that the discrepancy is an error and attempting to remedy it.  Great One, your core did not exist prior to your accident.”

“So, it thinks my memories from before that are wrong, and it’s getting rid of them.”

“I’m afraid it may be so.”

“Can you stop it?  I mean, you were able to artificially induce it, earlier...”

Frostbite made a face.  “The only things I can think of that could stop this would be unhealthy in the long run.  I do not believe you want to try to split yourself in two again.”

“No,” agreed Danny.  “Any-Anything else?”

Frostbite sighed.  “This is not something I can confirm,” he said, “but I suspect that the reason for your odd pattern of your memory loss is that the memories you dwelled on most often vanished first.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Because that would bring them to my core’s attention...”

Frostbite nodded.  

“Well.  That’s... not ideal.”

“I’m sorry, Great One.  Would that I could do more.”

.

“It’s all gone,” he said, without preamble, as he stood at Jazz’s door first thing in the morning.  

She looked crushed.  “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded.  “I remember remembering, but I don’t actually remember.  It’s weird and...  actually kind of a relief,” he said, tilting his head to one side.  

Jazz blinked rapidly.  “Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

He shook his head.  As his memories had disappeared, so had most of his remaining trust in his parents.  Between the memories of them caring for him, and the memories of them attacking or threatening him, the latter were more vivid.  

He still loved them, and his ghostly desires, that he literally could not remember living without, still focused on them, but that and trust were two different things.  It had been months since he’d started to fake retaining memories that he only knew about from reading his journals.  

“Sam and Tucker?”

This time, Danny nodded, the gesture much more enthusiastic.  “We were going to meet up later today, anyway.  Do you want to come with us?”

“Sure,” said Jazz.  She rubbed at her eyes.  “Give me a second.”

Danny nodded.  He wasn’t in a hurry.  “I’ll be downstairs.”

He could understand the grief.  He had felt it.  But it was over, now.  The only thing left was to make new memories.  

[sunfoxfic]

You bringing up the djwifi in Strike Back reminded me: what do you think about the people saying that Alya still shouldn’t have told Nino her identity (specifically the people saying this after watching Strike Back)? Because I’m super confused. Alya told Nino, and because she did, he was able to save her life in a situation when literally nobody else could. Had she not told him, she’d be injured or worse by the ferris wheel crash. There were two possible outcomes: Not telling him, Hawkmoth not knowing, but leaving the secrecy in their relationship and Alya potentially getting killed vs Telling him, risking her own identity, but eliminating the secrecy from their relationship and Alya getting away from the ferris wheel unscathed. I just don’t understand that viewpoint, especially since Marinette said that she completely understood where Alya was coming from, as she went through the same thing.

Alya renouncing Trixx has me all sorts of fucked up because she still has the bag for him…like she’s just gonna be repeatedly reminded, especially since Trixx fell into Hawkmoth’s hands MINUTES after she renounced him.

Let's start by saying this: The overarching reason why she had to tell Nino her identity is twofold.

1) The theme of S4 was always, always, "Things get better when you trust people." Things got better when Marinette trusted Alya in Gang of Secrets. When Su-Han trusted Marinette in Furious Fu. When Tikki trusted Marinette in Dearest Family.

When Alya trusted Nino in Rocketear.

2) Because in the end, Alya needed to give up her Miraculous to Marinette so that it would eventually end up with Hawk Moth.

Those are the two overarching reasons why Alya needed to tell Nino her identity. Yeah, in the situation presented, Alya would have gotten hurt if Nino hadn't been able to protect her, which is something worth mentioning -- it's important to mention. But situationally, the writers didn't have to do that. It wasn't a huge, overarching thing that will change the course of the show. The overarching themes of the entire season, and the outcome of the finale, are absolutely changing the course of the show.

Let's put the life-or-death situation aside, then, and ask what would have happened if Alya hadn't told Nino her identity.

A serious strain would have been put on their relationship, first and foremost. Nino would know that Alya isn't in love with Chat, but he'd still be able to see her being weird. At best Alya would be stressed about lying, as she was in Rocketear; reasonably speaking, they'd both start fearing their relationship because they both know something's changed but Alya has to act like it hasn't and Nino can't know what the change is. At worst they would break up.

It is not unreasonable for Alya to prioritize herself. This is not a world-ending matter; there's no reason to believe that Nino knows anything except that Alya is still Rena Rouge. If he got akumatized, he wouldn't be able to do a whole lot with that information, the world is in no more danger than it would be with just Alya knowing Marinette's identity.

What is the danger of Alya prioritizing herself? Seriously?

It didn't even seem to upset Marinette much; she had an emotional response to being shocked, but she understood and even agreed when they had a moment to slow down. These people are demanding that Alya deprioritize herself in her own life for the sake of protecting someone who does not want or need that protection, who will not actually be protected by that protection.

People want Alya to forget her own personhood and support their fave. I'm not going to speak on the racism implicit in that, but I will link to someone who already did that here. But the thing that frustrates me more than anything is that for however much there is racism built into Alya's character, the fandom will take that to the next level. And then a few levels more. They do not want her to be a human being with emotional needs and inner workings; it's as simple as that. They want her to fill a stereotype, and when she doesn't, they consider it bad writing.

It's a racist and sexist double standard and I'm really not all that interested in engaging.

Without engaging in fandom salt, though....

I am so, so sad for Alya. She really gave everything she could and tried balance everything and she almost managed it -- she almost got everything the wanted. To be a superhero, to be a journalist, to keep her boyfriend and her best friend..... She almost had it all, and you're right, now she has to grapple with the fact that she lost it, and that maybe if things had gone a little different.... maybe she'd still have it.

God I think I have a fic to write about this.

[izzet-league-mad-scientist]

I just discovered something that’s been really helpful for my daily life and general level of happiness.

Living with ADHD is hard, and my brain constantly bombards me with the desire for More Stimulation in order to get More Dopamine. I’m medicated now, so it’s less harsh, but my brain’s still entrenched in that behavior from nearly two decades of repetition.

I used to get burned out really really often, to the point of constant headaches, exhaustion, and just generally being both Unable to Get Things Done and Stressed About It. I really needed a solution to this before I properly crashed and burned, as it was really harsh on both my coursework and consequently my mental health.

The answer, as it so happened, was both irritatingly simple and so counterintuitive for my ADHD brain to understand. The thing I needed, was to slow down.

Or more specifically, I needed to stop giving my brain what it was asking for, and give it what it to needed instead.

My brain wanted more stimulation, more activities, more attention, to the point where I’d often find myself doing three or four things at once just to satiate my brain’s demands for Dopamine At All Costs. And because humans really aren’t built to handle that much attention-splitting, it wasn’t working.

Feeding that greedy brain-engine, after a point, gives diminishing returns. You’re overtaxing your attention, and the more shallow stimulation you give your brain, the more it needs to be satisfied.

You have to slow it down. Meditate, take deep breaths, whatever calming technique works best to quiet your mind. Focus on a single task above all else: the one at hand. This may require some shoving down of impulses that tell you do “check your phone” or “play the game, you have the time,” but luckily you can make up for that later.

You don’t have to do that all the time. Once you have the opportunity, you should listen to that voice, all the little whims it has about what you want, and you should follow it, but that’s the key: don’t multitask. One thing at a time. If you, on a whim, want to go outside and feel the texture of the leaves, then pause whatever you’re doing, get up, and go walk outside to crunch some leaves. Every little whim you should take the time and pleasure of exploring to your heart’s content, and I mean that last part literally: do it to the extent that it feels good to do. If it’s stressing you, then stop. If it’s not fun anymore, then stop. Sometimes your brain gets stuck on things that aren’t good for it, and that’s when you gently point it somewhere else instead.

It’s about being kind to yourself. It’s about enjoying every little moment, about the tiny things that you want to do. It’s about not agonizing over where to eat or what to eat, but just letting whatever whim takes you choose for you, and if you change your mind, go right ahead.

I probably didn’t articulate this post perfectly, but I think the message gets across well enough. Life is an adventure, friends, but it’s an adventure made of side quests that you take because you want to, because you’ll enjoy them.

[mypoisonedvine]

Rainstorm (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

credit goes to @princess-of-riviaa for this idea although I think I took it in a slightly different direction than she intended… I hope she won’t mind ;)

this isn’t a “dark fic” in the traditional sense because Bucky himself isn’t very bad (he’s in Winter Soldier mode so he’s no saint, but he’s not a sadist either, just kinda morally ambiguous) but the situation and topics are pretty dark so be wary.  

Summary: the Winter Soldier has basic biological needs.  HYDRA has hypotheses about the hereditary capabilities of super soldier serum.  You’ve been brainwashed into believing that these two goals are your life’s purpose, and that nothing would make you happier than to be at the mercy of HYDRA’s favorite weapon.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: kind of non con* (see below), somewhat painful loss of virginity, mention of blood, captivity and grooming and general HYDRA nastiness

*This is certainly non con because the reader has been brainwashed to comply to orders, but it has none of the trappings of traditional non con fare for the exact same reason.  She’s not gonna resist and she doesn’t want to, it’s just that she lacks, on a greater level, much of a choice.

The scientist made a final adjustment to your hair, putting every curl exactly in its place.  He examined your face before nodding proudly.  “You’re ready.  Let’s go to his room.”

You tried to contain your thrill, following the scientist closely and listening to the echo of your heels on the concrete floor.

The scientist used his fingerprint to unlock the soldier’s door, and as it slid away, you finally saw him in person for the first time.  He was standing in wait, and turned to look at you through the doorway.  Your heart skipped a beat, properly; you were excited to see him, and yet so terrified.  You had been training for months for this exact moment.  There was so much riding on this, and you found yourself afraid that he would be disappointed.

“I have someone here we’d like you to meet,” the scientist informed the soldier.  As you stepped inside, he looked at you with a hint of confusion.  “We understand that you’ve been stressed.  She’s here to help with that.”

The soldier furrowed his brow.  “A woman,” he observed.  He hadn’t seen one in quite some time, at least not this up close.

“This woman represents a lot of money, and time, and research.  She’s not as strong as you, so be careful, but what she lacks in agility she makes up for in obedience.  I promise you, it knows no bounds.”

“She’ll do anything I say,” he realized-- or maybe it was a question.

“She’s eager to please,” the scientist smiled, “and she lives to serve.”

The soldier placed a finger under your chin and you jumped a little before allowing him to move your head side to side as he examined you.

“Is she not to your liking?” the scientist asked nervously.  “We can make some changes.  The hair and outfit can be different.  We figured you would want a… domestic look.”

You tugged at the bottom of your dress, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under your soldier’s observation.  

“No, she’s…” he trailed off and began again.  “She’s beautiful.”

You felt your face getting hot and you shuffled your feet nervously.

“I’ll leave you two be, then,” the scientist nodded before awkwardly stepping back.  “One thing, soldat,” he added, looking the soldier in the eyes.  “Do whatever you need to with her in order to… relax.  We ask only one thing in return: your mission is to impregnate her.”

The soldier nodded and the scientist finally left.  

You felt very aware of the silence in the room as the soldier began to pace around you.

“You were created for me,” he posited.  You nodded quickly.  “Well, get on with it then.  Show me what you can do.”

You dropped to your knees, looking up at him as you palmed the front of his pants.  You felt his cock underneath the fabric growing harder, and you smiled.  

His uniform was somewhat difficult to open but you did your best and finally managed to get his cock exposed.  

You remembered what you had been trained to do and set forth to your task.  You had been programmed to love whatever he loved, get pleasure from his pleasure.  So as his head fell back and his fingers laced through your hair, you moaned with him, taking his cock as deep into your throat as you could fit it.

He was bigger than the men who had trained you, and harder to swallow.  You did your best and earned a groan from him in reply.  The fingers in your hair curled into a fist and the pain of your hair being pulled was unexpected but arousing.  

You used your hand to stroke the parts of him your mouth couldn’t reach.  You looked up and watched him as he watched you, his eyes piercing into you with fiery intensity. 

“Stop,” he gritted out suddenly.  You pulled back and released his cock from your mouth. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimpered, “I’ve done something wrong.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I have a mission of my own.  Stand up.”

You obeyed quickly, so quickly that you felt a little light-headed.  

“Take off your dress,” he commanded.  It was designed to come off easily, and with just a few opened snaps it fell to the ground.  “Help me take off my chest plate,” he added, and you stepped forward to begin undoing the straps of his gear.  He watched your nimble, delicate fingers and thought they looked a bit out of place next to his armor.  But you did manage to get it off, and he shrugged his shoulders to help you slide it off his arms.  Instead of tossing it to the ground though, you folded it and set it on top of a nearby counter-top.  

“What did you do that for?” he asked.

“Would you like me not to?” you countered.

“No, it’s fine,” he nodded.

He took off his boots and you set them aside while he shimmied off his trousers.  You didn’t stare at his naked form for too long, because he hadn’t asked you to, but you were sure you’d never seen anything so perfect.  You understood that you were made for him, but now it felt like he was made for you too, in a way.  

He pulled you towards him, pressing his body against yours.  He was so warm, and you smiled as you melted into his embrace.

“Kiss me,” he requested.  You slipped your arms around his neck and leaned in, but stopped just as your face was right against his.

“How?” you asked.  He seemed confused.  “There are different ways.”

“Whatever you want to do,” he answered.  That didn’t make much sense to you, but you didn’t want to keep him waiting any longer.  You pressed your lips against his as your eyes fluttered shut, feeling the stubble on his face scratch you a bit.  His hand held the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delicately beginning to explore between your lips.  You moaned a little against him, savoring his taste.  After all this time, it felt so right to be in his arms like this.  Your life had meaning, your existence had value, and you were so lucky to be here providing whatever he needed.

He pulled back from the kiss and you found yourself chasing him for just a moment before you stopped, meeting his half-lidded gaze.  “Mine,” he said quietly.  “All mine.”

You nodded, biting your lip a little.  

He bent you over the bed, one hand tangled into your hair to hold you up and the other guiding his cock to your entrance.

They had prepared you for everything but this.  They explained that you needed to be untouched here, for him, and that you didn’t have to worry about being good at this part.  All you needed to do was follow his instructions.

“Please,” you begged, “put your cock inside me.  I need to feel you inside me.”

He slipped into you in one motion, plowing through the resistance of your walls and grabbing your hips when he bottomed out.  Pain seared through you but it was irrelevant.  He didn’t take long before he began to pull back and push into you again, and you focused on suppressing your whimpers as you figured he wouldn’t like to hear you in pain.  If he wanted to, he would hurt you more, and you were ready for that if it was what he needed.

“Does… does it feel good?” you asked weakly between shallow breaths.

“Yes,” he hissed sharply.  You smiled, sighing with relief as tears of joy prickled your eyes.  

“I’m so happy,” you admitted, savoring the feeling of purpose fulfilled.  “Tell me how to be good for you.  I want to be good for you.”

He leaned in and wrapped his arms around your body, putting his lips right against the shell of your ear.  “You want to be good for me?” he repeated.

“Yes,” you sobbed, “please.”

“Tell me how much you love it,” he demanded.  “Tell me how much you love my cock inside you.”

“Soldat, I love it so much,” you cried, “it’s everything I ever dreamed of.  It feels so good to be yours.  I love your cock inside me.  I love you.”

He laughed a little, kissing the shell of your ear.  “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t need to,” you explained, “you’re my mission.”

“You’re bleeding a bit,” he realized as he looked down at where your bodies conjoined.  

“I’m sorry,” you apologized.

“It’s not your fault,” he corrected.  “Don’t apologize.”

You almost apologized again for apologizing, but realized that would be stupid and just murmured out an awkward “okay.”  

“Am I hurting you?” he asked in a way that made you unsure if he wanted to hurt you or not.

“Please don’t stop,” you avoided answering, because it didn’t really matter.

He adjusted his angle so that each movement was deeper, the tip of his cock brushing against something inside you that made you nearly scream from overwhelming sensation.  He was claiming you so thoroughly that you felt like your body was being molded to his shape, just as your mind had been molded to his presence, and it was intoxicating.

You savored every moment of it, hoping it wouldn’t be over soon and you could stay like this for a while-- although you knew a quick finish was a sign of a job well done, so you were a little torn on how to feel.  In the end, you would be satisfied with whatever he gave you.

You’d never been told that you could come, but you were starting to put it together as pressure built inside you, leaving you incapable of suppressing your moans.

“Yes,” you found yourself chanting, over and over, without really meaning to.

“Louder,” he demanded, and you hadn’t known you could get much louder until you did.

“Yes!” you screamed.  

“Beg,” he growled, his own voice growing in volume.  That you definitely knew how to do.

“Please!  Please don’t stop!” you sobbed.  

Even with how loud you were, you could hear the sounds of skin on skin as he pounded into you and you loved it.  You loved the way his fingers, metal and flesh, dug into your hips as he held you down, keeping you from lurching forward from his forcefulness.  You loved the smell of sweat and sex and damp concrete and old leather.  You loved everything about this moment.  

“Fuck, ‘m close,” he grunted.

“Please,” you repeated, your voice nearly going out, “please come inside me, I need it, I need you, I’m yours, soldat, please-- yes!” 

You gasped as an orgasm crashed into you like one of those rainstorms that start with just a sprinkle and then instantly become torrential; thunder, lightning, the whole shebang.  You’d never seen a rainstorm like that, but that’s what you would’ve compared it to if you had.

He moaned loudly when he came, continuing to pump into you until he was sure that he’d spilled every drop.  The flutter of your walls milked his cock encouragingly and it all produced a cycle that you wished could last forever.

“Stay still,” he demanded breathlessly, holding you down even though you had no desire to resist.  “Stay right there, fuck, don’t move.”

You nodded against the pillow.  You listened to his breathing as it slowed, relishing the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you.

He pulled out of you and both of you winced a little, him laying down beside you gently.

“It’s better if you don’t move,” he explained, and you weren’t sure what exactly was better, but you trusted his judgment regardless.  

The bed was small-- it was never meant for two people.  But you loved being pressed against him as he laid on his side and ran his fingers down your back.  It made you shiver, but it made you smile, too.

“Did I do well?” you asked weakly.

“Yes,” he nodded.  

You both caught your breath for a while, and you just soaked in the way his arms wrapped around your shoulders, like you fit together perfectly.  

“Can you handle another round?” he asked quietly after a few minutes had passed.  You jumped up at the opportunity to make him happy again. 

“I can handle anything you need me to do,” you answered eagerly.

He pulled you onto his lap, looking up at you as he maneuvered his cock towards your entrance again.  You sank down onto him and ignored the sting of soreness as your body accepted him once more.

“Yes,” he hissed, “just like that.”

You keened at the praise, arching your back a little more as he pulled you down to lay on his chest.

You felt him holding back a little bit, reacting to your whimpers of pain as his cock pushed even deeper into you than it had before.

“Don’t restrain yourself, please,” you begged.  “I want all of you.”

“I thought this was about what I wanted,” he whispered against your ear.

“It is,” you confirmed, “and I can tell you want more.”

He kissed underneath your ear with a smile.  “I’m afraid I’ll break you.”

“Never worry about me,” you shook your head.

“Ask me for it then.  Ask me for what you want.”

“I don’t want anything that you don’t,” you replied, confused.  He pulled you closer and held you down against his muscled chest. 

“Then ask me for what I want.”

You pulled back from his embrace to examine his face, which was looking back at you expectantly.

“Fuck me hard, soldat,” you begged in a weak voice, “please, I want you to use me--”

Before you could even finish he was grabbing you again and holding you still as he bucked his hips up into you, fucking you ruthlessly.  You cried out with joy as your head fell back, and he leaned into suck at one of your nipples which made your whole body tense up.

“Ride my cock,” he instructed, “show me how much you want it.”

“You know I need you,” you gasped as you followed his command, bouncing on top of him as he released his grip on you to free your movements.  He slipped a finger between your bodies to roughly rub at your clit and you choked.  “S-soldat,” you whimpered.

“Feels good?” 

“I don’t need it,” you explained, “I don’t need anything but you.”

“What if I want you to come right now?  Can you?”

You felt guilt burn through your chest.  “I-I’m sorry,” you cried, “I’m close but… I can’t yet.  I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed, stopping you from riding him for a moment.  “I was just curious.  You don’t need to.”

“Please don’t think you need to do anything for me,” you added quickly.

“I want to,” he assured.  “I want you to like it.”

You almost laughed.  What a ridiculous concept.  “I love it.  As long as you’re happy, I love it.”

He smiled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.  “I’m happy,” he whispered, and you started to move again, gasping as you gripped his chest to keep your balance.  

This one was different from the last.  It didn’t make your skin burn or your bones sore.  There was an ache, yes, but a softer one, one that snuck up on you as you clutched his face and he looked at you with an expression that reminded you of how you felt about him.  Like he couldn’t get enough of you, like you were everything, like you were the only thing.

He only asked one thing of you that time.  “Say that you love me again,” he requested in a soft voice.

“I love you,” you told him, and you kept telling him until you were too close to form words anymore and he pulled you into one more kiss, deep and slow and perfect, as you wrapped yourself around each other and fell backwards into the abyss of pleasure.

You laid in silence after that, just holding each other as you waited for your panting to still into slow, meditative breaths.  

You weren’t sure what to do now.  He didn’t seem like he knew, either.

“Would you prefer I keep you company, or that I leave?” you asked.

“Stay,” he decided.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Lay with me.”

You nodded, nuzzling into his chest and letting your eyes flutter shut.

The next few weeks passed relatively quickly.  Certainly faster than any weeks of training had.  There wasn’t much to do but make love so that made up 80% of what you did, the rest going to sleeping and the occasional meal.  One time he taught you about his gun, showed you how to take it apart and put it back together, and you had found it pretty interesting.  Mainly because he was the one explaining it, but still.

You asked him to wake you up before he left for his mission but he didn’t.  You woke up to an empty bed, and you’d think you would’ve been prepared for that after years of it, but just so little time with him had spoiled you.  You cried a bit but got over it quickly, straightening up and deciding you needed to be prepared for his return.  You anticipated that he would need a lot from you after having to work.

You were right.  You had been meditating when he flung open the door, and you jumped up.  He looked so different with all his gear on, including the mask and goggles.  

He stormed across the room, tossing away the coverings on his face and kissing you with an intensity that bordered on rage.  You reciprocated, glad that he had finally stopped asking you for what he wanted and learned to take what he needed.  He seemed to understand now that you could handle it.

It was a fury of tearing at clothes and pulling at hair and biting at skin after that, and you ignored the blood in his hair as you ran your fingers through it.

You frankly had no idea what he was doing when he laid you down on the bed only to slide down and start biting at your thighs, though you had no intention to question it.  As he suddenly licked a thick stripe over your sex, it was like you had stumbled into an entirely new world.  He found your most sensitive places and targeted them with the same ruthless efficiency he approached nearly everything in his life.

He had shown you pleasure that made you melt but this was like something else, something that made you grip the sheets and kick your legs and arch your back.  He had to hold your hips down to keep you from bucking against him, and when the growls he emitted against you didn’t get the message across, he let his teeth graze over your bud.  You yelped but finally stilled-- at least, as best you could.

You were speechless, even as you realized that you should remind him that he was focusing too much on you, that you wanted to make sure he was happy too…

But then again, this was what he had wanted.  What he needed, it felt like.  And who were you to doubt that?

So you let your head fall back as he sent you headfirst into a violently powerful orgasm, enough to make your entire body shake as you made sounds you hadn’t realized before that you could make.

And that seemed to only inspire him to keep going, offering you no reprieve as he kept you suspended in the peak of your sensation.

Tears burned your eyes as you were overwhelmed by him, numbness prickling at the tips of your fingers and toes and even in the places he was licking you.  You were so lost in it that you didn’t even notice he had stopped until he slipped his cock into you, still holding your hips down as he finally fucked you.

He stayed upright for a while before leaning down and caging you in under his arms.  He smelled like gasoline and gunpowder.  

“Mine,” he growled, right against your ear, sending chills over your skin.  

“Yours,” you agreed quickly, your voice coming out broken and wavering.  “Just yours, only yours, please--”

He rubbed that spot above your opening with his thumb again and you wrapped your legs around his hips.  “Ohh, yes,” you whimpered.

He kissed you and where you had found fire before, you found rain.  You felt his suffering, the exhaustion that sank deep into his bones and never seemed to leave.  You felt his guilt for leaving you.  You felt his guilt for coming back.

You hoped that you could kiss him back in just the right way that would say everything you wanted to tell him. It’s okay, you’re okay, we’re okay.

You loved the entire concept of we.  You loved being with him, in any way, although admittedly this way was your personal favorite.  It was the language both of you seemed to understand best.

Just a moment after he pulled back and looked into your eyes, you heard the beeping of his door being unlocked.

He jumped a bit before pulling the wrinkled sheet up over the both of you as the scientist walked in briskly, not even seeming to care that he was obviously interrupting a private moment. 

“Okay soldat, time to go back on ice,” the scientist informed you both mundanely.

“No,” the soldier refused.  “I don’t want to.  I’ll stay awake until the next mission.”

“Not an option,” the scientist shook his head.  “Come on, get dressed and let’s go.”

He sighed as he obeyed, slipping past you and standing up as he found his discarded clothing and put it back on.

“What will happen to her?” he asked, looking at you where you were laying on the bed, nervously clutching the sheet to your chest.

“She’ll wait.”

“You’re going to put her under too?”

The scientist didn’t answer, and the soldier clenched his jaw.  

“You’re going to keep her awake, aren’t you?  So you and your colleagues can keep ‘training’ her.”

Still no answer.

You yelped instinctively when the soldier grabbed you, pulling you up holding you in front of him with a hand around your neck.  You scrambled for footing but made no effort to cover yourself; it was nothing the scientist hadn’t seen before.  You relaxed into the soldier’s arms once you understood what had happened.  You trusted him.  If he hurt you, there would be a reason for it, and you were ready. 

“I’m not going under,” the soldier hissed.  “Don’t come any closer or I’ll kill her.”

The scientist shrugged.  “She’s yours to do with as you please.  It’s no skin off my nose.”

“Didn’t you say that you spent a lot of money on her?”

“We spent more on you.”

“What if I told you that she’s pregnant?”

The scientist’s eyes went wide.  That seemed to get his attention.  “There’s no way you could know that.  Our tests haven’t come back yet.”

“But we both know that she could be.  How much trouble would you get in if the tests come back positive but she’s already dead?”

He pressed his lips against your ear, gripping you tighter.  “You’d die for me, right?  If I wanted to kill you now?”

“Yes,” you nodded as best you could with the metal hand around your throat, “of course.  Anything for you.”

“Maybe you trained her too well,” the soldier mocked as he addressed the scientist again.

“Alright, alright,” the scientist relented, “we’ll meet your demands just… let her go.”

“I won’t go under,” he repeated, “and no one will touch her but me.”

“Of course,” the scientist rushed, “anything.  Let her go, please.”

The soldier dropped you to the floor and you clung to his legs, laying yourself at his feet.  The scientist slinked out of the room, apparently to inform everyone that the soldier would not be going into cryo as expected, but all you could think about was what he had said.  No one will touch her but me.  It was like a dream come true.  You could stay with him and make him happy, he wouldn’t have to leave you, you wouldn’t have to practice on anyone.  You could just be his. 

He knelt down to join you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you.  “Never let anybody near you but me, okay?  You’re mine.”

You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes.  “Of course.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you like that.  I’m gonna protect you.”

“Whatever you want,” you insisted.  You felt his hand on your stomach and you looked down at it, putting your own hand on top of his.

“They’re going to take it away,” he realized solemnly.  You weren’t sure what to say.  You just wanted him to feel better.  He looked at you and glanced to where you both knew a camera was watching you from the corner, and he leaned in to kiss your cheek.  “We won’t let them,” he whispered.  “We’re going to get out, with the baby.”

You nodded a little, and leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder.  You closed your eyes as he stroked your hair and at some point you fell asleep, and you dreamt of things you didn’t understand-- freedom, choice, family.  You dreamt of a world you hadn’t experienced yet; or at least, one that you couldn’t remember.  He stayed awake, but as he carried you to the bed in his arms and laid beside you, he was dreaming too.

[seokoloqy]

The Ravenheart Manor | Yoongi’s Route

➳ PAIRING: demon!yoongi x reader

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, mythical creature!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 3.3k

➳ WARNINGS: teasing, alley sex, his dick has ridges bc why not, dirty talk, over stimulation

➳ SUMMARY: despite the powerful aphrodisiac working its way through you, Yoongi doesn’t seem to care much and forces you to finish your chores with him. Your frustrations bubble up during a shopping trip and he decides to punish you.

➳ A/N: this is Yoongi’s route in the Ravenheart Manor series! Pls read first part before this one! None of the other routes need to be read in order and they are all stand alones

—

“I want Yoongi,” your breathless voice manages to say. You’re unable to meet anyone’s curious gaze, mortified by how their stares make your body tense and shudder.

You’d feel more comfortable staying with Yoongi through this because you've spent so much time around him. He’ll probably make you work through this unexpected heat and you’ll be too distracted polishing dishes to notice the wetness soaking your panties and the desire to have him throw you on the kitchen counter and spread your legs.

Namjoon nods, “very well. Dinner will be cut short tonight. Everyone will finish up in their own rooms. ___ and Yoongi can remain here.”

Despite the whines from Taehyung and Jimin about wanting to stay with you, one by one each of the residents take their plates from the table and disappear into their respective rooms to finish dinner on their own. You’re almost glad they’re all gone because you were very close to putting Taehyung’s hand exactly where you needed them.

You’re sitting very still in your chair, too sensitive to move from the heat crawling over your thighs or too nervous. Yoongi still has his eyes trained on you and the coffee pitcher steadily cradled in his hands.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s focused on the lust surrounding you, it’s so palpable he can taste the sweetness of it on his tongue.

As a demon, he’d prefer fear. That bitter flavor is so addicting to him. He wonders if your lust will taste just as intoxicating. If it does, he’s not sure he’d be able to restrain himself from devouring you completely. His hands tighten around the coffee pitcher when the nagging feeling of an insatiable hunger bites at him.

You cross your legs and turn away from his intense stare. You know you've messed up by drinking Jimin’s aphrodisiac. Yoongi must be thinking of all the chores he’s going to make you do for the next month or the rest of your human life.

“Have I been working you too hard, ___?” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the silence.

“N-No,” you shake your head, curling your hands around your knee to stop them from trembling.

“Then why would Jungkook say you were stressed?”

“I don’t know,” you squeak when Yoongi sets the coffee pitcher down. In the silent dining room the sound of it hitting the table seems booming in your ears.

“I don’t tolerate liars, ___, and as long as I am your superior,” you listen to his clipped footsteps as he approaches you. A hand comes beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his face. His hands are just as cold as they were when you first met. There’s a dark, threatening glow in his eyes. Even though it’s intimidating you’re still breathless looking at him. “You will never lie to me.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and force a weak response, “y-yes, sir.”

Yoongi watches your wavering expression while a mischievous grin forms. He leans down at eye level to your heated face. “Your lust smells so intoxicating,” he whispers, just a breath away from your lips. “If I were a desperate man, I’d devour you—mind, body, and soul. Consider yourself lucky I’m not some lower level demon picking for scraps.”

The dark allure of his eyes enchants you and you’re almost compelled to lean forward and kiss him, just to see if it’ll quell the fire blazing in your core.

He releases your face, the traces of his cold touch still lingering on your skin like frostbite, and turns on his heel to resume his duties clearing the table.

“Just because you’re under the effects of an aphrodisiac doesn’t mean you get to slack off. We still have to go into town tonight for tomorrow’s ingredients.”

You want to groan. Of course he’d make you go out as punishment. Sadistic bastard.

“Get yourself together,” he says, picking up Namjoon’s bloody napkin. “We’re leaving as soon as we finish cleaning the table.”

—

Even though the temperature drops at night, leaving most to bundle themselves up in a coat, you picked a sundress because everything else you tried on just felt too suffocating.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to care about your predicament, just as you thought. You regret choosing him now. If you knew how desperate you would feel walking in the streets so close to Yoongi who pretends to be oblivious to your needs, you would’ve chosen Taehyung or Jimin to satisfy you instead. They probably would have been all over you by now.

You didn’t even get the chance to touch yourself when you were in your room changing before Yoongi barged in and claimed the shops would close soon. You get the feeling he only said it so you couldn’t relieve yourself of the aching between your legs.

A thin layer of sweat has already built up across your skin as you walk into the butchers shop. Your hands feel clammy, swinging at your side loosely, so close to Yoongi’s. He hasn’t made any indication he’s going to help you with the aphrodisiac. His only focus is on getting all the ingredients for tomorrow’s breakfast and reminding you not to trip over yourself when your knees get too weak and threaten to buckle.

“Yoongi,” you whine, tugging lightly on his coat, “I can’t take this anymore.”

Every step you take just reminds you of the growing wetness pooling in your panties. You swear you can almost hear a squelch whenever you shift your legs to ease the throbbing of your core. It must be the effects of the aphrodisiac that are making you so uncomfortably wet.

He hums, peering into the glass shielding an array of animal hearts; they’d be for Taehyung’s breakfast. “Maybe you should have thought twice before drinking mysterious alcohol then.”

“I didn’t think it’d be an aphrodisiac!” You whisper, tugging harder on his dark coat. The butcher gives you an odd look but doesn’t say anything. “Please, Yoongi. I need to go back to the manor.”

“What you need to do is carry these bags.” He ignores your pleas and shoves two bags filled with produce into your trembling hands. He speaks to the butcher and orders two pig hearts which are put into a bag and handed to Yoongi. You have half a mind to throw all his groceries to the floor and walk to the manor yourself.

When you’re both out of the shop and on the nearly empty streets, your legs grow weaker with each step and you nearly stumble if it weren’t for Yoongi’s arm wrapping around your hip. You involuntarily moan when he pulls you to his chest. The bags you were holding accidentally slip through your weak fingers. Luckily none of its contents spill out onto the street.

“What do you think you’re doing making such lewd noises in public?” He chides, clicking his tongue when you bury your face in his chest. You cling to the lapels of his coat, trying to pull him impossibly close.

“Please, Yoongi, I need…” You’re so breathless you can hardly finish your sentence, letting it taper off into a groan. You quiver in his arms. It’s so hard to gather yourself back together when his hands glide over your waist to steady you. The material of your sundress is so thin; it feels like he’s touching your bare skin. That’s exactly what you want, no, it’s what you need.

“Need what?” He asks, dipping his head low so only you can hear his words brush across your ear. “To be punished? You embarrassed yourself in front of our masters, ___. You need to be taught a lesson so this doesn’t happen again.”

You whimper in his arms, feeling your body react desperately to his words. You press yourself closer to him, weakly rubbing yourself against him to ease your tension.

“Look at yourself,” he mocks, “do you want to put on a show for these people?”

You pry your face out of his chest to glance at your surroundings. Although there are hardly any people wandering the town square, the few who are out glance at you curiously and try not to stare too long. When you meet eyes with one of them, they turn away flustered and walk off quickly. You bury your face back into Yoongi.

If stripping off all your clothes right now means this incessant throbbing between your legs will go away, you don’t mind putting on a show for everyone. You bet Yoongi wouldn't mind it either if it weren't for his desire to maintain a respectable reputation as the Ravenheart Manor’s butler. You wish he was some lowly demon, intent of satisfying his own selfish needs and indulging in your overflowing lust.

“I don’t care. I don’t care at all! Please I just need you to fuck me!” You cry, muffled by his coat. Maybe you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out, but it’s the truth. There’s no point in hiding your needs anymore. You feel like dying.

Your plea doesn’t fall of deaf ears. Yoongi can taste your lust again. It’s so powerful it practically stuffs itself down his throat, screaming to be devoured.

“I only take orders from my masters. You’re in no position to demand anything from me.”

He’s not enticing you to make a deal with him. Although savoring your tainted soul after ten years is an attractive trade, he plans to keep you as a maid at the manor for much longer. He just wants to torment you longer. He wants to know how long you can last writhing and crying out for him without breaking.

You let out a frustrated grunt, forcing both hands between your bodies and pushing yourself away. Yoongi lets you go without a fight and watches in amusement, a small smile on his face, when you clench the hem of your dress and press your shaking legs together. Behind your gritted teeth, your breathing has turned ragged.

“Whatever then,” you hiss, “I’ll just go back to the manor myself.”

“It’s late,” he says, running his eyes down your figure, drinking up your curves in that sundress. You look delectable like a gift waiting and willing to be devoured by him. “What kind of butler would I be if I had to explain to our masters that you became someone else’s dinner?”

There are plenty of beastly characters lurking around the town who’d catch a whiff of your scent and immediately pounce given the chance, no doubt. You’re like walking meat to them. The lust on top of that makes you irresistible. He can’t have anyone else claiming you before him.

“I think that’d make you a lousy butler.” You take a step back despite your challenging glare, wobbling slightly because of your weak legs. A burning feeling begins to crawl over your skin. This time it actually hurts. You hide your wince when your stomach begins to twist.

Yoongi smirks, “I can’t have that then.”

He gathers all the bags into one hand with a strength you envy and holds out his hand.

You shamelessly lunge for it, despite being upset with him two seconds ago—the aphrodisiac being stronger than your frustrations—and embrace any bit of contact he has to offer. You mewl into his hand that you’ve now nuzzled against your cheek. That burning is cooled when Yoongi’s hands glide over your skin.

“My kitten is so needy,” he teases. “Do you really need me that badly?”

Without even realizing, Yoongi guides you towards an alley and lets you both become drowned by darkness so any passerby will assume nothing of your mingled shadows intimately pressed together. You only notice the new change of scenery when your back is against the harsh brick wall and Yoongi presses a finger against your lips and the other hand busies itself under your dress, gliding up your sensitive stomach to fondle your breasts. The groceries left abandoned to the side.

“I need you to keep quiet, alright, kitten?” He whispers, pressing his own lips right against his finger. He’s just a breath away from kissing you and you had no idea you could want something this bad until now. You’re eager to kiss him, taste him.

You feel his hand slip beneath your bra and his thumb run over your pert nipples that have been starving for attention since the night began. He plays with your nipple between two fingers while his other hand leaves your lips and glides along the nape of your neck down to the zipper of your dress. Slowly, almost agonizingly, he drags the zipper down, letting the straps slide naturally down your arms and the rest of the dress falling to the ground.

Once the dress is completely off, it begins a catalyst of you letting out all your pent up arousal. You throw your arms around Yoongi’s neck and pull him down to your lips, letting your tongues meet in a frenzied, heated match.

You moan, savoring his honeyed taste while you pull him closer. “Want you,” you manage to slip past your entwined mouths.

Yoongi manages to unclasp your bra and it falls to the floor along with your discarded dress. The air nips at your bare upper half and you embrace the cold against your burning skin.

He pulls his lips away from yours to focus them down your chest, licking and sucking over your sensitive skin, enjoying the small noises you make. If you were back at the manor, he’d love to make you scream louder. So every layer of hell may hear your pleasure.

He blows on the areas he’s coated with his saliva, causing you to shiver.

“You don’t deserve anything after the show you put on at dinner tonight. Why should I reward bad behavior?”

“B-Because,” You say breathlessly, feeling almost delirious and lightheaded. How is it possible? He hasn’t even touched your soaked cunt once, yet it feels like you’re being touched all over at the same time.

“I’m going to need a good reason, kitten.” His hand moves faster than you can react, yanking off your panties, exposing all of you for him to devour. He tosses the article aside and cups your heat, teasing your slick folds with his middle finger. You mewl and shudder in his hands, clutching his bicep. “Tell me why I should fuck you right now.”

His thumb presses against your clit, harshly rubbing, making you quiver in his arms.

“I’m a good maid,” you whine, attempting to grind your hip against his hand.

“Not tonight,” he reminds, slipping one finger past your folds. You’re so wet it makes it easy for him.

You groan, screwing your eyes shut as you lean your head against the wall. “Before tonight. I did everything,” you whimper when he inserts a second finger easily and begins slowly dragging them in and out of you. It’s almost torturous. “Everything you asked of me. I think all of that makes up for my mistake tonight.”

His fingers move faster now, curling against your walls and drawing out your moans. “It’s true you’ve been very useful,” he considers. With you around, his work has been considerably easier, but he’d never admit that to you.

You clench around his fingers, feeling yourself approaching your well needed climax when he removes his fingers despite your whining protests.

“Please,” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair. Your legs are so weak, if it weren’t for his arm around you and the wall you’re leaning on, you’d collapse in a horny mess on the floor begging for some sort of release.

Your arousal glistens on his fingers as he raises them up to your mouth. The look in his eyes is absolutely devilish, almost black. You’re mesmerized by the void, willingly letting yourself get lost in it.

“Shh, don’t whine, kitten,” he teases his finger against your lips, smearing your arousal over the bottom, “a good maid cleans up after herself. Now open.”

You obediently part your lips to allow him to stuff his fingers into your mouth. Closing your lips around his fingers and sucking off your own arousal, your eyes flutter shut, swirling your tongue around his digits the same way you would with his cock.

“Are you ready for your reward?”

He unzips his pants, freeing his erection finally. You try not to react surprised when you finally get to see his unholy cock for the time. In the faint light, you can see that he has ridges around his cock like rings. You nearly faint.

“Oh god,” you groan, stomach fluttering with excitement. You throw one leg around his waist to bring him closer and to give him easier access to your pussy.

Yoongi grips your chin, dragging your face back up to his. “I want you saying my name only while I fuck you, kitten, got it?”

You bite your lip and nod. At this point you’d do anything for him to just plunge his cock into you. “Yes, Yoongi.”

Satisfied, Yoongi aligns his cock with your entrance, rubbing the length along your slit to coat it in your arousal. In one quick thrust, buries himself in your drenched pussy with a satisfied groan in your ear.

You have to cover your mouth to prevent the scream that would have escaped and alerted everyone walking by about your elicit activities.

His pace is anything but gentle as he hammers into your cunt and you take it all so eagerly. You choke back your moans behind your hand, feeling your eyes begin to water from the pleasure building up in your core. His hands find their place on your ass, controlling every movement of your hips against his.

It’s not possible to feel this good, is it? Whether it’s the power of the aphrodisiac or just Yoongi’s strong thrusts into your fluttering walls, you feel like you’re in paradise.

“You’re taking my cock so well, kitten,” Yoongi rasps, “what would our masters think of you like this, huh? Being fucked against the wall in an alley. I bet they’d like to watch you fall apart, but you’re mine now.”

“Mmph!” All you can do is whimper into your hands as a weak response. You can feel the ridges you’d seen on his cock every time they slide against your contracting walls.

“Your mind, body, and soul are all mine to devour.”

You helplessly cling to him, his shoulders, his hair, gripping the lapels of his coat as you pull him into a desperate kiss. Now both of your legs wrap around his waist, allowing his demonic strength to hold you up.

His hand wanders from your ass to rub your clit, edging you closer to your sweet release. You moan into his mouth and he swallows each of your cries greedily. His finger relentlessly attacks your clit, and it finally brings you to your orgasm.

Your walls clench around his cock as you come undone. He continues his rough assault on your cunt, not entirely done with you yet. This was supposed to be your punishment after all.

Your over stimulated pussy convulses around him as he ravages you. “Ah, Yoongi!” You cry helplessly, clinging to his shoulders.

“A couple more times ought to teach you,” he grunts.

You’re not sure how long you spent in the alley or how many orgasms Yoongi ended up giving you, but by the end of it, you had collapsed into Yoongi and the effects of the aphrodisiac long gone. He helped you get dressed with surprising ease and collected the groceries off the ground.

Yoongi surprises you by holding his hand out when you’re both out of the shadows. You look at him dumbly before slipping your hand in his. You’re a little glad he’s given you his hand because your legs are still wobbling.

“You can have the rest of the night off,” Yoongi says as you curl your body closer to him. Instead of holding his hand, you’ve managed to cling onto his arm, seeking warmth and comfort.

You're about to thank Yoongi for finally giving you a night off when he says, “but I expect you to be up earlier than usual to finish your chores.”

Bastard.

[quixotic-writer]

Lesson Plans and Challenges

Summary: Q thought it’d be funny to poke some fun at his girlfriend who works as a teacher. She makes him put his money where his mouth is and challenges him to work a day at her job.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

It started as him joking around about me organizing my lesson plans for the week saying ‘what are you stressed about? Coloring book page due?’ Then I challenged him to a day at my workplace. I went easy on him though, telling him he could come during a shift at the after school program I do for extra pay and he agreed. Here we are waiting for school to get out, classroom doors open with students looking outside at us with eager smiles.

“It can’t be that hard. I mean, you just spend these few hours outside and kids are constantly getting picked up so the population is always slowly lowering.”

“Coming from the man who doesn’t know how to talk to kids. Everyone knows this Bri. It’s very clearly shown on your little show you have.” I playfully banter with him.

“I have nieces and nephews, I know how to interact with kids.”

“Have you handled 38 at once?” His demeanor quickly drops the moment I give him a number and I start giggling, “It’s a whole grade level and it’s the largest group too. Did you not take that into account love?” He shakes his head and I see his nerves rise. “I’m sure you’ll make it out alive. The kids will find you hysterical. Just be sure to watch your foul mouth. PG settings on for today.”

“No promises that something won’t slip out.” I roll my eyes and the school bell rings and a flood of students make their way outside.

“Better clean up your act then because here they come.” I say with a smile and crack open the attendance book getting my pen ready with a wide smile as familiar faces run over to greet me.

“Ms. Sparkle! Ms. Sparkle! Look I have glasses now and I can see the board in class now!” One of the young ones jumped for joy as I marked him down as present in the attendance book.

“Well careful there Micah. Don’t want to break them right after you got them do you?” He shakes his head with a cheeky grin until his eyes dart over to Brian.

“Ms. Sparkle? Who the heck is this guy?” He points over to Brian and I try and stifle my laughter. “Who are you? Do you work here now? Most helpers are young and you’re too old to be here.” I couldn’t help but laugh audibly at that blow. Brian’s eyes went wide.

“And what makes you think i’m so old, kid?” He asks in a joking tone.

“Lots of gray hair and you have a huge beard.”

“Okay Micah, go take a seat and I'll dismiss you guys to play in a bit.” He smiles and trots away to go sit down against the wall and patiently waits for others to arrive. I shake my head and smile as I continue taking attendance. The wonders of working with kids. They just speak their honest mind and have no filter. It always makes for the most interesting conversations that I treasure.

“What’s with the ms. Sparkle thing?” Brian asks.

“Oh anyone that works in the afterschool program gets their own personalized nickname. I was dubbed Ms. Sparkle. Sami, another helper who works here, is called ms. raccoon because the kids said she looks like a human raccoon since she has dark bags under her eyes and the dark clothes she wears. Can’t wait to see what the kids come up with for you.” The line of kids continues as I check everyone off in the attendance book and they all line up on the sidewalk and talk amongst each other. Every student that comes and goes looks at Brian sideways before going off to the rest of the group. Some were more persistent with questions before I had to tell them that I'll be explaining shortly. Once everyone was accounted for, I turned to face the countless smiling faces. “Good afternoon guys, how was your day?” A mixed chorus of responses flood from all of them. Brian stands close to me and all their little eyes direct towards him. “So I have a special announcement to make for today guys.”

“Is that guy your boyfriend Ms. Sparkle?” My train of thought was quickly derailed as a student blurted out that question. A chorus of ‘ooh Ms. Sparkle has a boyfriend!’ comes from the students and Brian turns red and I snicker.

“This is Mr. Quinn, he’s my helper for today. We all remember how we treat others right?”

“The way we want to be treated!” They all respond. I smile and beam with pride.

“Awesome guys. You are all dismissed!” Just like that, the kids are quick to their feet and they all take off running to the playground. Both Brian and I stand together and watch as the kids congregate into their little groups and do their own things. Some were running around for a game of tag, some sat under the tree nearby with their toys and imaginations, and some sat near their bags with their noses in a book.

“So… What now?” Brian leans in and whispers to me.

“Well, make some rounds! Scope out the scene and keep an eye on them. Baseline rules are to be kind to each other, no bad language or toilet talk, no dangerous stunts on the playground.” I wave him off and with hands in his pockets he circles around the playground looking at all the kids unsure of how to start a conversation with any of them since they all seemed occupied with their own things. Around the corner pops in my usual helper, Sami. She gives a smile to me as she approaches and places her bag down. “You got an easy day today y’know.”

“Why’s that?” She asked as her eyes naturally darted around the playground making sure all the kids are in proper order and not getting into any mischief. I nod my head over to Brian who’s talking to a couple of boys off on the side of the playground.

“Brian came in to help for the day.” Sami snickers.

“Uh huh. And what do you mean by ‘help’?” She continues chuckling knowing all the stories I've told her about Brian’s history with kids. As I look up, I see kids climbing all over Brian like a jungle gym. One is riding on his back, two hanging and swinging off of each arm, and another connected to his leg like glue. He laughs as he tries to move about the playground with kids attached to him, each of them hollering out and laughing just as loud as he tries to shake them off. He seemed to be doing perfectly fine with the kids and something about that made my heart overflow with a river of love. Sami strolls off to give Brian a hand with the kids. With a few quick words the kids peeled off of Brian like water off a duck’s back, relief washes over him as he chuckles. My attention is quickly redirected to a few girls standing before me, the cute little clique of the sassy sweet ones.

“Hello girls, how was school today?”

“Ms. Sparkle, is Mr. Quinn your boyfriend?” Had a feeling this is what they’d be asking.

“Yeah! Do you like… Kiss and hold hands.” They all lean in with eager anticipation. I wasn’t sure how to answer this. I mean, it wasn’t a bad thing to tell the kids that I do have a boyfriend, but I wasn’t sure how far or how weird the questions were going to be. Kids just ask anything without a second thought.

“Mr. Quinn is my boyfriend. I love him very much.” Short, sweet, and to the point.

“Maybe you should date someone younger Ms. Sparkle. He has too much gray hair.”

“Well I like his gray hair. I think my boyfriend is very handsome as he is.” There he was with a bright smile on his face, talking away with a kid sitting on the rock wall.

“Gross.” And just like that, the girls were off to go and gossip elsewhere. I shake my head and laugh.

Time goes on and I watch with a smile as Brian starts warming up more and more to each of the kids as the hours pass. I didn’t interfere much or bother him because I wanted him to flourish by himself like I knew he could. He had a hard time keeping up with their more physically active demands such as games of tag, Brian being a human jungle gym, and showing off how strong he was by lifting kids with little to no effort. I’d occasionally see him hunched over catching his breath or scrunched down in attempts to take heaping gulps from the kid’s water fountain. It was funny seeing him, a fully grown man, crunching himself down a few sizes in desperation for some hydration.

He’d socialize with the kids too, answering some of their strange and unfiltered questions, telling stories about when he was a kid, and just listening to kids tell him all about their favorite things. Shockingly, it wasn’t all strictly firefighter stories like I expected it to be. Of course he did have a few of those stories to share, but instead he built off of what the kids were talking about and eased into the conversation rather than redirecting it entirely.

They dubbed him “Mr. Grizzly” because apparently reminded them of a bear. Very fitting in my opinion. My teddy bear.

Of course, there isn’t a day that goes by without a little bit of conflict. Part of me wished it was just a simple disagreement between two kids, a normal occurrence that’s easy to mediate and resolve. The wails of pain distinguished this as my other fear: an injured child. Immediately my head whips around to find where the cries are coming from and I see a circle of students right next to the walkway which told me exactly where the problem was. I quickly run over into the center of the circle to see Brian and Sami kneeling down with a kid that has a nasty gash on her knee from falling over. Tears were plentiful and cries of pain filled the silence. My heart broke as my adrenaline rose.

“Sami, grab a first aid kit, some paper towels both wet and dry.” Brian quickly took charge of the situation, as he tried calming down the student with calming words of ‘hey, it’s okay, i’m gonna fix you right up.’

“What happened?” I quickly asked.

“Seems Lily here took a nasty f–” the ‘f’ was dragged out. I knew exactly what he had been planning on saying, but he quickly switched up his words back to PG family friendly mode, “fall here on the sidewalk running.” Sami was quick to bring over everything Brian had asked for and he took them all in hand. “Thanks Sami. Now, let’s get to cleaning this up, okay?” He washed away all the blood, patting it with a wet then a dry paper towel. He dug through the first aid kit to grab some neosporin and a band aid and quickly patched Lily up.

“There… We… Go!” With a smile he leans away to take a look at his handiwork. His eyes look back up to Lily’s. She thankfully wasn’t crying anymore and he took another paper towel to carefully dry up her tears. “Does that feel better now?” She nods her head, still frowning a bit. “Oh now we can’t have a sad face on you anymore. I know what’ll help though!” He holds out his arms to her and she jumps right in with a smile as he wraps his arms tight around her and rocks her back and forth, “Mr. Grizzly bear hug!!” Lily was giggling and smiling as she was encased in his arms and I couldn’t help but smile and laugh along. Soon he released her and she was back to her old self and took off running to rejoin her friends.

“Look at you Mr. Grizzly.” I tease his new name and he smiles. “You handled that super well you know. I’m proud of you.” He lights up and if he were a dog, I just know his tail would be wagging like crazy.

“Well working in the FDNY has helped prepare me for times like these. No big deal.” Kids call to him and just like that, he was pulled back in to entertain the little ones.

The day flew by a lot quicker after that. No more incidents, no more sad faces, nothing but smiles and laughter came from the kids from then on. The day came to a close and the last kid finally went home, waving goodbye to me and fellow staff members they recognized before hopping into their car and riding off home. I place my binder away and file away everything from today that I needed to. I said goodbye to everyone and sent Sami on her way. Bri and I got into the car and he eased back into the seat of the car.

“What’s wrong honey bear? Did the coloring book page tire you out?”

“You too with the bear names?” He chuckles. “You know what, I see what you mean babe. That was tiring as hell. I almost slipped a few swear words here and there. I know for sure I'm gonna be feeling it tomorrow, felt like a human jungle gym. The kids were all over me. And you do this every day?”

“Mmm, I don’t do the after school thing every day. Just sometimes because I know the after school program is understaffed on certain days. It’s easier than actually teaching. That’s a horse of another color.”

“I bet. After this, I don’t think I can imagine that.”

“But you know, I love every moment of it. Good or bad. I wouldn’t trade this job for anything.”

“I would.” We both burst into laughter.

“Well you did great today Mr. Grizzly, you did everything just right.” With that we decided to head on home. I made my point today that my job wasn’t coloring books and glitter, but I also brought out a side of Brian that I never thought I would. One that actually does love kids despite him being too stubborn to say it.

[mandoclan]

SWEET HOME KENTUCKY // Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x F!Reader

A/N: 14.8k. Yes, this is a spinoff of Sweet Home Alabama. I love that movie and I love Whiskey, so here you go! This is Jack Daniels x Female!Reader, but there’s no Y/N mention (unless I missed one).

Warnings: Character Death (mentioned in passing), Fluff, Angst, Divorce, Physical Abuse (a punch and a tight grip), Drinking, Drunkenness, (basically, if you’ve seen the movie, I’ve deviated but no more than normal).

She still dreamed about that night. The one where Jack took her out to the meadow behind his mama’s house and told her he wanted to marry her one day. To which she asked, “Why would you want to marry me for anyhow?” and he replied, “So I can kiss you anytime I want.” Her first kiss. Her first love. And they were only twelve at the time.

It didn’t come as a shock to her when Jack had asked her to marry him right out of high school. She was his first love, after all, and Jack swore he’d loved her since before he ever kissed her in that meadow. But then he never showed up to their reception because he was still drunk from his “bachelor party” the night before, he was always gone on missions and attempted to stop her from doing the same even when they worked for the same intelligence agency, and she eventually got shot in the head in a mission gone wrong, resulting in medical having to use Alpha-gel on her to bring her back.

That fatal injury had broken her and it had broken Jack too. He hadn’t been able to protect his own wife when she was his partner, and that killed him inside. After that, he became almost overbearing in his protectiveness and you’d eventually asked Champagne for a transfer after a whole year of turmoil in your home, explosive fights, and missions spent arguing. Champ loved you and Jack like his own kids and wanted you and your husband to fix this, but he did as you asked and you’d transferred to New York without telling Jack with the instructions that if he were to ask that Champ would tell him that you were safe and in another Statesman office.

That’s where you found yourself now, leading the New York office after the last agent had retired. You’d built up your reputation from scratch, leading missions and directing agents in the Northeast region of the United States. You kept in touch with Champ barely, but it had been seven years since you left Kentucky. You refused to even think about Jack unless you were sending another copy of the divorce papers or unless you had that damn dream about the meadow again.

You woke to the sound of your office door opening, and you lifted your head from the desk you occupied on the top floor.

“How come you let me sleep?” You grumbled to your assistant when he stepped into the room with a mug of coffee and a mission report from one of your top operatives.

“You needed it, boss, but it was only for a few minutes. Long enough for me to grab your coffee and fetch the report from downstairs.” He shrugged. “Y’know, that accent of yours gets a whole lot thicker when you’re dreaming.”

That boy had the audacity to smirk before you narrowed your eyes at him.

“And what exactly did I say?” You demanded.

“That I’m gonna get a raise when you realize how awesome I am.”

“We’ll see how good your coffee skills are, then.” You laughed, finally smiling at him through your exhaustion. In all reality, you liked this kid. He’d just been assigned to you and hadn’t earned his agent name yet, but you had a feeling he would do just fine and you already had plans to promote him come next quarter.

“Enjoy.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, “I’ll see you tomorrow for that meeting in the conference room, alright?”

The kid agreed and you nodded at him before making your way to the elevators.

Your apartment on the lower levels of the Statesman New York building was modest, but well-lived in. You’d wanted to make it seem as much like home as possible. This time, however, your apartment wasn’t as empty as usual. The entire entryway and living room were filled with rose petals and rose bouquets in glasses of water.

“Goddamn that man,” you swore, stepping around the petals and heading to the panel you had on the wall where an orange light was blinking, signifying you had a waiting message. A button was pressed and suddenly your boyfriend’s voice filled the room.

“There’s a rose for every moment I thought of you last night. God, you must be exhausted. Sweetie, listen, I’ll see you tomorrow at our meeting. You’ll do great. I love you. Bye.” The message ended and you rolled your eyes before heading over to the largest of the bouquets.

You loved your boyfriend, Agent Rum, but this was too much. You hated huge, sappy gestures like this and he knew it, but you supposed it was a bit sweet. Very few other ladies you knew had such attentive men at their sides and Jack had never done anything remotely like this. A sharp breath was inhaled in an attempt to nix that thought from your mind before you headed to your front door and made your way to the ladies’ dorms. You left an embarrassingly big bouquet in front of each door and sighed in satisfaction once you’d swept up and removed most of the flowers in your apartment.

_________________________________________________________________

The meeting you’d scheduled came sooner than you’d liked, this being a collaboration between the Texas office and your own New York one. Rum walked in and kissed your forehead before the meeting could even start and you smiled at him. He could always brighten your day in an instant.

“Thanks for the flowers, babe.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand in yours. He grinned, asking if you really liked them, and kissed you before sitting in his spot along with a few of your other agents. You both slipped on your glasses and started the meeting, knowing that you could talk properly once the collaboration was agreed upon.

It felt like hours went by before all positions were assigned and the intel was decided upon. You groaned once you were able to remove the glasses needed to see everyone in their remote locations, rubbing your temples. Hands were felt on your shoulders, and you knew it was Rum. Your glasses blinked a light on the side and you sighed, placing them back on your face.

The blinking was due to a message from Agent AppleJack, one of your own agents whom you’d taken a shine to and often spent weekends going about the city with. She was a nice girl from Maine who had an affinity for seafood you couldn’t quite get behind, but you’d consider her one of the closest friends you had in this city.

“Please tell me he has a flaw somehow.” She had typed out. You rolled your eyes before moving your eyes on the on-screen keyboard to type a reply.

“He asked me to go to California for Christmas.”

“He’s gonna ask you a lot more than that,” was her reply.

“You think so?” You were suddenly nervous. You’d only been dating Rum for six months and your divorce still wasn’t finalized.

“Sweetie, let’s go for a walk.” Rum took you from your conversation, and you nodded, slipping the glasses back off your face. “You’re so stressed, but you did so well today.”

You both made your way to the elevator, hand in hand, and eventually you meandered around Central Park just talking about your jobs and how your last missions went. You rarely went on them anymore, but you made sure that Rum had as many as he liked to keep him happy.

“So have you made a decision?” He finally asked, bright eyes boring into yours.

“About what?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“California.”

“Babe, California? That’s four months from now. We don’t even have to decide right now because we can literally jump on any jet we have and go within 6 hours if we want.”

“I was thinking maybe 200 guests, tops.” Rum continued in his words, but you stopped him with a pull to his hand.

“For Christmas?” You asked, still very confused. “Rum, are you on some kind of medication I don’t know about? Should I take you off of field duty for a bit? Did you get shot or something?”

All of a sudden, Rum was kneeling in front of you in the middle of a pathway in Central Park, and everything finally made sense. He held a diamond ring in his hand, the light hitting it just right and you gasped.

“Brandy, and I should probably know your real name by now, will you marry me?”

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not sure we can just go back to work and forget all about this. It’s only been six months.” You floundered, not even sure what to say, but he looked so hopeful and you really did love him.

“Brandy, I love you. I didn’t come by this decision lightly, and I really hope you’ll say yes. I want to build a life with you.” Rum stood, looking you right in your eyes. “So, I’ll ask again. Brandy, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice and felt the ring slip on your finger. It felt strange, another ring being there, but you were suddenly overcome with joy that your life was finally falling into place and you had a man who loved you and wanted to build a life with you. That’s all you could ask for. So you kissed him.

He grinned once you’d let yourselves out of his arms and released him from your kiss, hand reaching for his agency-issue watch.

“I’ve got to tell my family.” He gushed, “Wait until you see the look on the guy’s faces!”

“Babe, do you mind if we keep this to ourselves for a while? With this collaboration mission with Texas happening and everything else, I’d rather just keep this quiet for a bit.”

“You don’t want to tell your family?” Rum asked, a bit confused. You cursed yourself in your mind because he didn’t know. The only person close to being a family to you was Champ, and you hadn’t really talked to him in ages. Close to seven years, actually, which was downright awful. The guilt gnawed at you.

“Sunshine, I don’t really, um, have a family.” You stated calmly, fingers soothing the back of his hand as he pulled a face.

“But—” he started.

“I have a mentor who I looked up to as a father, but I haven’t seen him in about seven years. I think I should tell him in person.”

“Okay, whatever you want, sweetie. I’m happy as long as you’re happy.” Rum smiled, and you sighed in relief.

“He’ll love you, eventually.” You reassured him.

_________________________________________________________________

First thing the next morning, you caught a plane down to Kentucky and found yourself driving along the battered country roads to the little farmhouse where you and Jack used to live. Your watch buzzed with an incoming call, but you didn’t answer, knowing it was AppleJack. You’d fill her in later.

You parked the car next to the oak tree that still held your swing. A dog came rushing down the steps, howling at you, but you didn’t mind. It was your dog, after all. A tall man in heavy work boots busted out the door, hollering at the dog and telling you that “he don’t really bite.”

The man looked at you without really seeing you, seeing only a woman in worn out cowboy boots and aviators covering much of her face. Her hair was different, so she didn’t really expect him to recognize her.

“What can I do for you?” The man drawled in his southern accent. You shuddered, not forgetting the way that voice sounded when you were in bed together at all times of day or night.

“Well, for starters, you can get your stubborn ass down here and give me a divorce.” You snapped, pulling the sunglasses off your face. Jack’s eyes widened once your words registered. “C’mon, Jack, I mean it. The joke’s over. We need to finish this so I can get back to my office and take care of my job.”

“You’re shittin’ me, right?” Jack spluttered.

You finally got a good look at him. He had shaving cream on the side of his face as if he hadn’t got a chance to finish before your hound was howling, but he’d kept his mustache. You hated to say that he looked good, but it was the truth. The years had been kind to him.

“You know, I’ve never actually understood that expression, but no, I’m not “shitting” you.” You groaned, pulling a packet of papers out of the glovebox of your rented truck and spreading them out in the bed. “Look, it’s even got these idiot proof tabs so you can’t mess this up. I’ve got one copy for you and I both and one for my lawyer. So c’mon.”

When you looked up at him again, he didn’t say anything but he certainly looked like he had quite a few things to say.

“Well?” You demanded, irritated that he wasn’t coming down off the porch to sign the papers like you’d asked him to.

“You show up here after seven years without so much as a ‘Hey there, Jack, remember me? Your wife?’ Or a “Hi, honey, lookin’ good! How’s the family?’” He had the audacity to laugh, finally stepping closer to the edge of the porch.

“You expect me to tell you that you look good? Bless your heart. Sweetheart, we’ve been separated for seven years. I’ve had it with your bullshit.”

“They like that attitude wherever it is you’ve been?”

“Cut the crap, Jack. You knew where I was. Champ told me you accessed my records.” You spat, moving closer to the porch. “And don’t you dare tell me you’ve spent all this time missing me.”

“Oh I missed you alright, but I’ve been going to the range more and practicing so my aim’s gotten a lot better.” He drawled, leaning against the railing.

“Is that a threat, Jack? I’ve got a lawyer who charges me an arm and a leg. He charged me every time you sent these damn papers back without your signature on the dotted lines.” You lifted the papers as you spoke, but he scoffed at you.

“Well, I’m glad to see you got the message.” He smirked, going to say something else but you were both cut off by the dog howling again due to your hostile tones.

“Shut up, Coal!” You shouted, but Jack shouted a different name. “What happened to my dog, Jack?”

“He died. You weren’t here.” He grumbled, turning to go back into the ranch house. You stood there in shock for a second before realizing what he was doing.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving!” He shouted, back turned to you, “You done it, so you should recognize the process. I need to finish shaving my damn beard.”

“Jack, can we please just keep this civilized? For God’s sake, we’re both adults and agents. Please just sign the papers so I can go back home.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. This was a mistake, you thought. He wasn’t going to sign the papers.

“What do you know from home?” Jack spit, finally turning around to face you, fire in his eyes. “Hell, I bet Champ doesn’t even know you’re here, does he? That old man took you under his wing and trained you himself and you have the audacity to avoid him like he’s some annoyance?”

“That’s my business, Jack, so you stay out of it.”

“Honey, he’s the only family you got.”

“Don’t you ‘honey’ me, honey!” If looks could kill, he’d have died about ten times by now with the murderous look you were giving him.

“Get your ass back in that truck, drive over and see him, and maybe we’ll talk after.” Jack demanded, pointing his finger at your vehicle. He was headed back inside before you could even think, and you started shouting at him as you followed him up the porch.

“Jack, you idiotic, stubborn, no good agent! The only reason you won’t sign these papers is because I want you to!” You yelled, hands on the doorknob of the windowed door he’d just slammed in your face and locked.

“Wrong!” He shouted, trying to pull the blinds on the door that he could never get figured out. “The only reason I ain’t signin’ is because you’ve turned into some hoity-toity, wine-drinking, Yankee bitch and I’d like nothing better right now than to piss you off!”

He finally maneuvered the blinds mostly over the door as you dashed to the back of the house, but he locked that too before you had a chance to get there in time. He could hear your frustrated shout from outside and he chuckled in disbelief before heading to his bathroom to get rid of the rest of his beard.

“Divorce, my ass.” He grumbled. Jack came out two minutes later, wiping his face with a towel to find you lounging on his bed. He froze.

“Hey genius,” you smirked, anger still evident in your eyes. “Next time you wanna lock somebody out, make sure they don’t know where the spare key is.” You waved the offending object in the air, and Whiskey made a mad dash for it but you closed your fist before he could snatch it.

“Knew I should’ve changed those damn locks. It’d be nice if my wife had told me where the spare key was!” He growled.

“I’m not your wife anymore, Jack.” You said softly, “I’m just the first girl that climbed in the back of your truck. But you’re right, I have changed. I don’t even know the girl you married anymore.”

“Then let me remind you.” Jack sneered before grabbing his cell phone and heading back into his bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, Jack popped his head out of the bathroom.

“You bring any clothes with stripes on ‘em?” He asked, and you looked at him in confusion.

Red and blue lights flashed through the windows suddenly and your eyes widened.

“You called the sheriff?!” You gasped, jumping off the bed you used to share with the man looking at you with a satisfied grin on his face. “You know that old bastard hates me!”

“For good reason!” Jack shouted, still in the bathroom.

You made to run for the back door, but it opened to reveal a man you knew.

“Well, hell’s bells!” The man grinned, “If it isn’t our favorite Agent Brandy!”

“Tequila?”

“Hot damn girl, did we miss you! The agency wasn’t the same without you!” Tequila laughed, picking you up and giving you the biggest hug you’d gotten in a long time.

“I can’t believe you’re the sheriff!” You pulled on his badge for a second and knocked his cowboy hat off kilter to mess with him.

“Yep, I get to frisk pretty things like you all day and get paid for it.” Tequila put his hands around your waist and you slapped his chest.

“Aaron, can you try and be at least a little more professional? We got us a crime suspect here.” Jack emerged from the bathroom and you were struck with the fact that you hadn’t known Tequila’s real name until that moment. You quickly snapped back into it, though.

“Now, Brandy, you can’t just go breaking into your ex’s house whenever you feel like it, no matter how much they might deserve it.” Tequila—Aaron, you had to remember that—said.

“I didn’t break in. I used a key. My key, if you must know.” You snorted. Clearly, “Aaron” didn’t know that y’all were still married.

“Well, it still ain’t your house, Brandy. I’m gonna have to escort you out.” Aaron made to take your wrist in his hand, but you pulled away and grabbed the divorce papers you still had with you. You waved them as you heard Jack tell Aaron to use the cuffs on you.

“If you can get that asshole to sign these papers, I’ll let you run me out of town.” You smirked and Aaron laughed at your antics.

“Now that’s none of your concern, Aaron, you hear me?” Jack started, but Aaron was already taking the papers from you to look over.

“Well, what do you know. A bill of divorcement?” He asked. You nodded, and Aaron turned to Jack. “Hell, Jack, I thought you took care of this.”

“I thought I did!” Jack protested.

“Obviously not! Well, if y’all are still married, it’s her house too. This here ain’t nothin’ but a domestic dispute.” Aaron handed the papers back to you, and you smiled at him.

“He didn’t hit you, did he? If he took a swing at you, I’ll take him in right now.” Aaron told you quietly, out of earshot of your husband. You shook your head, because no, that man had never harmed you in ways that were physical. He’d only wounded your heart.

“No, he never hit me.” You replied quietly. Aaron nodded.

“Well, seems y’all got some catching up to do, so I’m gonna leave y’all to it. There’s nobody for miles, so Jack here can make ya scream all he likes.” Aaron winked at Jack, and you shouted in indignation. “G’night, lovebirds!”

“Aaron, I saved your life at least four times back in your Statesman years! You owe me!” Jack shouted, rushing to follow the sheriff’s retreating figure. He wanted you gone from his house in handcuffs if that’s what it took to get you to leave him alone about those divorce papers that he didn’t want to sign.

“Why can’t you just sign the damn papers, Jack?” You yelled after him, and he fixed you with the nastiest stare you’d seen in a long time.

“Listen, Jack. There’s nothing I can do. Your wife’s done nothing wrong, so I can’t just haul her in for nothing. Y’hear me?” Aaron blocked the doorway with his large frame as he lifted his hands in mock surrender.

“I suppose shoplifting steaks at the grocery store’s okay.” Jack spat.

“I took ‘em back and you know it!” You screeched back.

“You remember that vandalism out at the stockyard? Totally her!”

“Like I could tip a cow by myself at sixteen.” You growled, and Jack groaned. He couldn’t hit you with anything from your Statesman years either because that was all “classified information” you didn’t have to answer to. But Jack got an idea.

“Hey Aaron, isn’t there some outstanding warrant for whoever dumped your old man’s tractor in the fish pond?” Jack smirked triumphantly, making eye contact with your horrified expression. And then the cuffs were on your wrists and you were making your merry way to the county jail in the back of his cruiser.

“Now you know I didn’t have a choice, sweetheart.” Aaron smiled ruefully once y’all reached the station. He’d ended up hauling you off in cuffs just like Jack wanted and you were seething.

“This all could have been avoided if he’d just signed those damn papers.” You grumbled. “Can I make a call?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. You’ll get a couple minutes once I book ya.”

You rolled your eyes, taking the photos Aaron needed to do for “legal purposes.”

“You know that’s gonna get wiped once I make my call, right?” Aaron had the audacity to laugh, knowing exactly who you were going to call.

“I know. Tell big daddy I miss him.” Aaron pointed towards the phone.

It rang for a few seconds before a secretary's voice filtered on, saying the usual crap the Statesman company was supposed to yodel on about.

“Hi, I’ve got a word for you, lady.” You spit out, “Lemon drops suck.” You heard the operator say something about holding on for a moment and then a familiar voice was asking who you were.

“Champ! It’s Brandy,” you shouted, “Listen, I need a favor.”

“Name it, darling. You know I’d do anything for you and that wonderful husband of yours.” He drawled on for a moment and you smacked the phone receiver into the box.

“I need you to pick me up.”

“Well, where are ya? I’ll send a car or whatever it is you need.”

“That’s the thing. I’m in town. But, I need you to come get me from the jail.” You said after a moment. A groan came through the receiver and you winced.

“Alright, darling, I’ll be right there. I’m assuming it’s the usual one, then?”

“Yeah.”

Fifteen minutes later, the man himself was strolling through the door.

“I’m here for my girl, Tequila.” Champ rolled his eyes at you once he saw you waving. He had you out and your record erased within five minutes, and then you were back in his familiar old truck that smelled like whiskey and gunpowder. He accepted a muttered thank you while you drove off towards the Statesman offices.

“So what put you in jail this time?” Champ finally asked.

“Jack and his big, fat mouth.” You grumbled. “It was just a misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“Kinda like that wedding I officiated, huh, darling?” You refused to make eye contact.

“I would hardly call that a wedding.”

“The boy was nervous.” Champ chuckled.

“He was still drunk from the night before!”

“Can you blame him?”

“Yes, I can! We’re supposed to be professional agents and he goes and gets piss drunk the night before we’re supposed to get married. I went to the reception by myself with his puke on the side of my dress while he slept it off at the hotel. And you’re still siding with him!”

“I ain’t siding with nobody, so get rid of that idea. Y’all two are my best agents and I need you both.” Champ stated firmly. “The boy’s changed is all.”

“Can we just not talk about Jack? I know he’s like the son you never had, but you also called me your daughter and all that, so can you just ask me what’s new with me or something instead?”

“Sure. Shoot.” Champ looked disinterested, and you had the feeling that he’d kept up with you better than you’d kept up with him. Curse the archives for always spilling your secrets before you ever could.

“I met somebody. And he’s quite a catch.” You started, and Champ raised an eyebrow beneath his larger than life cowboy hat. “And I’m happy. Really.”

The rest of the drive was held in silence, neither of you feeling like talking much. He pulled into the Statesman gates and led you inside, scanning his ID card on an empty apartment in the back of the warehouses where agents could sleep during the longer missions.

“Sleep well, sweetheart. We can talk about all this in the morning.” He kissed your forehead and you hauled your bag inside. “I’ll take you to get your truck in the morning, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.”

_________________________________________________________________

In the morning, you were on the phone with your lawyer, walking around the Statesman compound and attempting to avoid the various tour groups that were unaware of the real reason this distillery existed.

“How long does a contested divorce take?” You asked, exasperated that you had to do this now of all times because your no-good husband wouldn’t sign the divorce papers. “18 months? Mr. Collier, I don’t even have 18 days, really!”

The man told you that was how it had to be, you informed him that this arrangement wouldn’t work, and he was informing you of a different option when you heard someone wolf whistle at you, throwing out some jab.

“Ain’t seen the likes of you around this place much!” The man shouted from his horse.

“Mr. Collier, that’s just not going to work for me.” You groaned, trying to block out the man catcalling you from his horse. Clearly this was some junior agent. “Mr. Collier, I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“Listen here, bubba, why don’t you kiss my ass!” You shouted up at the guy, but screamed in happiness once you realized who it was. “Oh my god, Moonshine?!”

“Let’s go inside then, missy, because I don’t do that kind of thing out here in front of the guests.” Moonshine smirked at you, jumping down from his horse.

“I guess your mama raised you right, then.” You laughed, hugging him. You’d missed Moonshine, who’d been one of your first friends in the agency aside from Jack, of course. “I better back off of you before your little lady tries to come beat me up.”

Moonshine looked sheepish.

“There is a little lady, isn’t there?”

“I can hardly afford me and my unhealthy addiction to firearms and whiskey, let alone some high-maintenance babe.” Moonshine laughed.

“What about Cara what’s-her-name? From the class outside of ours? Y’all had real chemistry on some of the missions I supervised.”

“She transferred out to the Alaska branch, and uh, I wasn’t her type.” Moonshine scratched the back of his neck and you hummed, understanding the situation.

“That answers a few of my questions. Guess we all have our secrets, don’t we, Moonshine.” You grinned, your suspicions about him batting for the opposite team nearly confirmed.

“Yeah, we sure do.” Moonshine climbed back up on his horse, tipping his hat on the way. “I gotta get back to work now, missy, but are you gonna be in town for awhile? Me and a few of the guys are going down to our normal watering hole later tonight if you’re up for it.”

“I hope I won’t be here long. I have to go see Champ, but I think I’ll see you boys tonight.”

“Well, I better scram if you’re seeing the boss man.”

“Very funny. I’ll see you later, Moonshine.” You waved the man off and made your way inside, scanning your own ID card on the entry doors and taking the elevator up to Champ’s office.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in. If it isn’t my favorite agent.” Champ drawled from his seat at the head of the conference table.

“Hey boss man, care to give me a ride to town so I can get my truck?” You asked, leaning up against the door jam and waving your keys. He laughed, standing up and grabbing his own keys from his desk.

“C’mon then, little lady. I did make you a promise. You can tell me all about why you’re here on the way over.”

_________________________________________________________________

Once you’d picked up your truck from the jail’s parking lot, you made your way to the bank. You hadn’t accounted for Jack taking as long as he was to sign the divorce papers, so you needed some cash for necessities.

Of course, the bank didn’t have an ATM. You cursed yourself for forgetting as you stepped inside. The bank guard’s eyes widened once he laid eyes on you, telling whoever it was in the teller’s booth that he was going to take a break outside. You winced once you remembered that this was the same man whose farm you and Jack and a few of your old friends had gone rolling pumpkins in year after year. He probably hated you.

You approached the teller, but didn’t recognize her. She clearly recognized you, though.

“Well, if it ain’t the queen of the New York Statesman office.” She grinned. You narrowed your eyes, attempting to figure out who she was when the lightbulb clicked.

“Jenny? Oh my god. I haven’t seen you since you and Tequila got hitched! You look amazing!”

“Thanks, sweetie! So do you. What can I do you for?”

“I need to make a withdrawal from my—“

“Joint account?” Jenny smiled like she knew something you didn’t, which knowing her, she probably did.

“My what?”

“Your joint account. With Jack? From what I hear, y’all are still married.”

“Why yes, yes we are.” You grinned, a plan already formulating in your mind.

_________________________________________________________________

It was after five when Jack got home, but you’d already got to work. You had on one of his favorite dresses that you’d found in a trunk somewhere, one of your homemade aprons, and a wide smile once he walked in the door.

“Hi, honey! Lookin’ good. How’s the family?” You grinned up at him, serving food onto two plates in the dining room.

“Cut the shit. Where’s my stuff?” Jack growled, chucking his hat on the couch along with his whip and lasso.

You smiled where he couldn’t see it, glad to see he’d noticed what you’d done to the place. There were new appliances in the kitchen, a new couch and loveseat, a flatscreen tv, a new rug, and Jack assumed you’d also done something to the bedroom. None of the things he’d had laying around since you left were where he could see it, and the sight agitated him.

“Now what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t pick up after my husband? Dinner’s ready in five.”

“The kind that don’t live here.” Jack groaned, hands raking over his face. “Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time—where is the house key?”

“I had the sweetest talk today with Tequila’s daddy.” You started as you ignored him.

“Nice to see you got your accent back.”

“Oh, I stumbled on a few things today.” You said, noticing Jack had gone to the kitchen, likely in search of a beer.

“Holy shit!” He shouted, and you stifled your laughter. “What happened to the stove?! And where are them little magnets I got from my travels, huh?” He opened the fridge and groaned.

“What the hell is this? Chick food?” He gestured to the fridge that you’d restocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, and new groceries that weren’t stale takeout containers.

“Light beer. Less calories, honey.” You smiled brightly, missing Jack’s murderous expression. He grabbed a can anyway and popped the top off.

“I tried to pick out a new bed today, but the mattress store only had old models. I’ll have to order something from New York.”

“Whatever floats your boat, honey.” Jack muttered, taking a deep swig of the beer you’d bought. He’d have to find his stash of whiskey and hope you hadn’t gotten rid of it.

“Oh, but darlin’, I thought you said we should think of it as our money.” You saw him freeze where he stood, and continued your crusade. “Just a guess, but I’m thinking the words ‘joint checking’ are flashing through your mind right now.”

“How much did you take?” He whirled around, effectively forcing you into the kitchen.

“All of it.” You replied simply, enjoying his facial expression.

“Son of a bitch!” He cursed, chucking the now empty beer can into the trash can and rubbing his face with his hands.

“You wanted a wife, you got a wife, honey,” you spat, “and what were you doing with all that cash? Why don’t you invest it? We work for a perfectly good company with shares for sale, don’t you know anything?”

“I know if you don’t get out of my house right now—”

“Sign the papers and I’ll give it all back.”

“Fine—fine!” He shouted, “gimme the pen.”

You rummaged in your packet for the pen and laid out the papers on the dinner table. You made to give him the pen, but thought better of it.

“Hold on. What are you doing with all that cash saved up? And since when did you tell Champ not to put you on anymore active missions? You aren’t doing anything illegal, are you Jack?”

“So what if I am? I don’t ask you about your boyfriend, you keep your nose out of my life.” He spat out, not making eye contact with you. You deflated.

“Who told you?” You asked quietly.

“Honey, just ‘cause I talk slow don’t mean I’m stupid.” He said in a much quieter tone. He almost sounded hurt.

“Look, Jack—” you trailed off.

“For god’s sake, nobody finds their soulmate at twelve years old.” He mumbled.

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jack almost smiled. Your eye caught something on the mantle and you looked up to see a horseshoe and a photo of your parent’s old farm.

“I can’t believe you kept that all these years,” you murmured, eyes trailing over the familiar old farm. It had burned down four years after that photo was taken, taking your parents’ lives with it. Jack looked at you before looking at the clock on the wall.

“Oh, hey sweetie, you know what? I just remembered I got myself a hot date.” Jack grinned maliciously, unbuttoning his collared shirt as he spoke. Your eyes moved from the picture to the skin being revealed and suddenly were at a loss for words. “You don’t mind if I have my lawyer take a look at these, do you?” He tossed the papers back on the table and left the room.

“What?!” You gasped.

“Hell, I’m just a dumb intelligence agent with no regards for the law. There’s words in there I don’t even know. You might be takin’ me to the cleaners for all I know.”

“The cleaners? You? You ain’t been there since our wedding, if you even washed your suit for that,” you scoffed. “Can’t you just sign the damn papers?”

“Nah,” he grinned from the doorway to his bedroom, “but thanks for stoppin’ bye. It’s been a real treat.” And then the door was slammed and you screamed into a newly-purchased throw pillow.

You’d realized after about ten minutes that Jack wasn’t coming back into the living room. In fact, his dramatic ass had jumped out the window and you heard his truck starting up outside.

Tequila had made an offer, though, and you planned to take up the social obligation. Besides, if Jack was as predictable as he’d always been, his “hot date” was probably at his mama’s bar where everyone in that little town went to unwind.

Your phone rang once you were outside the noisy bar near Jack’s truck, and you answered at once knowing it was your fiancé.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You smiled into the phone and Rum’s happy voice spilled out.

“Are you sitting down?” Rum asked.

“Why? Bad news? Did the mission blow up or something?” You panicked. You knew putting this in Rum’s hands would only backfire if something happened.

“No, no! Nothing like that. I was just going to tell you that I read the mission reports and everything went exactly to plan just like you said it would. You might be up for another promotion, babe.” Rum reassured you.

“Oh my god, really? Oh, I needed that almost as much as I need to see you.”

“What is that noise?” Rum finally asked, and you assumed he could hear the loud music and shouts coming from inside the bar.

“The sound of my past.” You grimaced.

“Have fun. I love you.” Your fiancé finished, and you returned the sentiments before hanging up the phone and waltzing into the bar. You were immediately greeted by a screech and an older woman who was still spry was pulling you into a tight hug and yelling over the music.

“Batten down the hatches, boys! Trouble done just walked back into my life disguised as my favorite daughter-in-law!” Helen grinned at you. “Honey, gimme a hug, it’s been too long.”

You laughed while you hugged her and stepped back to show her your ring.

“Soon to be ex-daughter-in-law.” You stated proudly.

“Ooh, who’s the lucky guy?” She asked, inspecting the diamond on your finger.

“His name’s Blake and he works with me.” You winked, and she nodded in understanding. She knew about a little of the work you and her son did, but she mostly stayed out of it, claiming that the stress would bring her to an early grave.

“Well, he’s got my vote if he picked out a ring as pretty as that. It’s good to see you, baby girl.” Helen gave you a pat on the shoulder and told her bartender to give you whatever you wanted. You asked for a whiskey on the rocks and nearly laughed at the irony of the situation.

Once your drink was in hand, you scanned the room, looking for your husband. You spotted him in the corner with some young blonde thing and rolled your eyes. A quick march found you standing right behind Jack and you flipped the edge of his cowboy hat.

“Mind if I join you?” You asked sweetly, leaning up against the pool table beside him.

“Actually we do.” Jack said, raising an eyebrow. He was challenging you, but you ignored him in order to set your sights on his date.

“You must be Jack’s hot date.” You grinned at the girl and she put a hand out to shake yours.

“I’m Carly.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Jack’s snotty, Yankee-bitch wife whom he refuses to divorce even though I’m engaged to another man.” You shook her hand, and the girl gasped once she saw your ring.

“Hot dog, Jack, look at the size of that thing!” She gushed. You nearly rolled your eyes at how dumb she was acting just in an attempt to impress your husband.

“Honey? Why don’t you get us a couple of drinks, yeah?” Jack turned to Carly and handed her a few bills. The girl smiled, popped her gum, and proceeded to ask you what you were having. You rolled your eyes then. “Not ‘me and her’ us, ‘you and I’ us.”

The girl agreed and scurried off, and then you turned to Jack.

“Why do you make me be mean to you? Is that what you want? To be humiliated in front of all your friends?” You snapped, frustrated that he was taking this so lightly. He shook his head and downed the rest of his own glass of whiskey.

“C’mon, Brandy, they were your friends too.” You heard Jack mutter, nodding towards a few agents who’d just walked over with their drinks. You recognized a few guys who’d been in the class behind you along with Moonshine. He nodded at you and ordered a beer before heading over to say hello.

“Alright, Brandy, you sit down while I teach your husband here how to lose at pool.” Moonshine grinned, pulling a bar stool over to you.

“Now Moonshine, I’m not really a watch and see kinda girl, am I Jack?” His expression was priceless as he took up the challenge.

At least six drinks later, you were definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol and you landed somewhere near Moonshine as he lined up his shot.

“Come on, now, Moony, you got it. Don’t blow this one, okay baby?” You drunkenly giggled and Moonshine laughed at your inebriated state.

“You can take the girl out of the honky-tonk, but you can’t take the honky-tonk out of the girl.” He missed the shot, but you didn’t care anymore, more focused on the conversation Jack was not-so-quietly having with Cognac? Coors? You couldn’t remember his codename, but it didn’t matter. Jack was talking about you.

“So, Whiskey, are you gonna divorce this girl or what?” The agent asked. Jack shook his head.

“She’s waited seven years. A couple more days won’t kill her. Unfortunately.”

“Like it’s gonna make a difference.” You snorted, nearly falling into his arms but stabilizing yourself at the last second.

“You never know,” the agent started, “you might be interested to know that Whiskey here has been—”

“Hey, hey, Cognac, let her think what she wants. She made her mind up about me a long time ago.” Jack cut him off, making you wonder just what it was that he didn’t want you knowing about.

You quickly forgot that thought, though, when Moonshine started yelling and telling Cognac he owed him fifty dollars. Cognac groaned, forking over the cash.

You didn’t really know what happened next, but you got into a shouting match with one of the other agents and eventually asked Helen for another round of drinks, but she quickly cut you off. Then you were shouting again as Jack dragged you out of the bar by your arm, yelling at you, saying that you couldn’t just insult everyone in the bar because you’d made it out of Kentucky but they were happy where they were.

“What makes you think you can treat them like somethin’ you stepped in, huh?!” Jack demanded as he put you right up next to his truck.

“You asked for it!” You yelled in his face, trying to get your keys out of your pocket. Jack quickly grabbed them.

“You show up here, you steal my money, you rearrange my house, and then you insult our friends, actin’ like you’re better than them.” Jack spat. He was angry and you knew it, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

“I am better than them! And you stole my keys!” You whined, wanting to be anywhere but here with your husband who was telling you that you were wrong. He was right, but you wouldn’t admit it.

“That’s all that matters to you, huh?” He asked in disbelief.

You tried to say his name, but he cut you off.

“God, ever since you left, this has been a nightmare. The money, the fancy office, the city, you’re pathetic!” He raked a hand through his mustache and you got lost in the action right before spitting out a comeback.

“Oh, like you’re goin’ places!” You groaned, a splitting headache appearing out of nowhere. “I certainly am once I get my keys back.”

“No, you don’t. No. You want to kill yourself driving, you do it somewhere else. But not here, not on my watch.” Jack said, putting your keys into his own pocket.

“At least I’m doing something with my life. So what if you and I aren’t partners anymore, you can still go on missions. You don’t have to worry about me anymore!”

“Get in the truck, Y/N.” Jack opened the door and guided you inside, defeated. His date was waiting by the door and you noticed them having a quiet conversation before he handed her your keys and made his way back to the truck.

You fell asleep before Jack even got on the two lane highway that led to the Statesman offices where he knew you’d been staying. Champ didn’t say anything when Whiskey carried you inside your temporary apartment, snoring away, but he wished things would work out between the two of you. His hopes were dashed as soon as Whiskey asked for a pen to sign the papers you’d brought with you.

When you woke up, still hungover from the night before, the divorce papers were stuck on top of the pillow beside you. You wished you could say you were happy about it, but you couldn’t deny that a pit was in the bottom of your stomach.

Once you rolled out of bed and had some coffee, the papers were sealed into an envelope and you drove to the post office to mail it out. You’d talk to Jack afterwards and apologize for your behavior.

When you got to the familiar farmhouse, you found Jack’s dog Midnight lounging at the base of the porch. You scratched his ears, and he whined happily at the attention he was receiving. The dog got up and raced up to Jack when he came out of the house with a crate.

“What’s she doing here, huh, boy?” He asked the dog before turning to face you, “Thought you’d have high-tailed it out of here by now.”

“I put the money back in your account.” You said quietly, searching his face for any emotion whatsoever.

“Thanks. Saves me from bouncing a lot of checks.” He smiled at you, a genuine smile, and it caught you off guard. “I like what you did, though, to the house. Should help it sell quicker.”

“You’re moving?” You were surprised. This was the house you and Jack had gotten and fixed up together in the early stages of your marriage and it held a lot of good memories along with quite a few bad ones.

“Well, I’ve been spending a lot of my time a bit south of the distillery, so . . .” he shrugged.

“Oh.”

“Look, hon, I signed your papers.” Jack sighed, finally hauling the crate into the back of his truck.

“Jack, I never meant to hurt you, or anybody else for that matter. And I just came out here to say thank you.” You finally said.

“You might want to move your toes.” Jack nodded towards where your feet were in reference to his truck tires. “Wouldn’t wanna run ‘em over since you need them for field work.”

“You can’t just leave!”

“Sure I can.” He chuckled, hopping into the cab. “You want to come?”

“Where you goin’?”

“I want to show you something.” Jack said solemnly, and you wished you could go. Something made you stop, though.

“I can’t.” You finally answered, defeated.

“Can’t or won’t?” Jack asked you, already knowing the answer but asking anyway.

“Both.”

“The girl I knew used to be fearless.” Jack leaned against the steering wheel to get a good look at you. You looked so much like the woman he’d once known so intimately, and yet so different. A lot had scarred you both and he recognized that.

“The girl you knew didn’t have a life.” You smiled weakly, fighting back tears.

“Well, I guess you better get back to living it then. C’mon, Midnight.” Jack got his dog in the cab with him and drove off, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

_________________________________________________________________

You didn’t know what possessed you to stay in town now that the papers had been signed and mailed out, but you found yourself in the town square that evening for the weekly square dance night.

“Hello.” You murmured sheepishly once you’d spotted Tequila and his wife, Jenny, and Moonshine, and a few of the agents from last night at the bar. “I just wanted to apologize to y’all. Last night was so uncalled for, and I’m sorry. Really sorry.”

“Brandy, forget it.” Tequila told you, a smile gracing his face. “You know we don’t stay mad for long.” The group nodded, and you smiled in relief.

Jenny pulled you to the side and handed you a glass of sweet tea.

“You know, he went up there.” She said, sort of secretively.

“Who?” You were confused about what she was talking about. But then she looked at you oddly and you suddenly knew. “Jack? When?”

“About a year after you left. He doesn’t know I know, but Aaron “big mouth” Tequila over there can’t keep a secret to save his life nowadays.”

“Jack was in New York?” You asked, completely surprised. You’d never seen him. He’d certainly never come to see you and say hello. Jenny nodded.

“He told Tequila he’d never seen anything like it. He realized straight off that he’d need more than an apology to win you back. He needed to conquer the world first. He’s been tryin’ ever since.” Jenny told you, downing her own tea.

“That’s why he kept sending the papers back.” You murmured, and Jenny nodded at you again.

“It’s funny how things don’t work out.” She sighed.

“It’s funny how they do.” You smiled warmly at her, knowing she was happy with her life and how it was turning out.

“Hey, look who I found wandering around the edge of the party.” Moonshine cheered, shoving Jack in the center of the group you were with. He had the nerve to look a bit sheepish, knowing you were there, but you were the one who blushed. After that, it was a whirlwind of everyone catching up on the times and you found yourself smiling at Jack.

The band finally started playing a slow song, and Tequila got up to ask you to dance, leaving his wife to drag Jack into the square. The both of you danced for awhile before Tequila stole his wife back, which left you and Jack standing face to face. Jack held out a hand to you to offer a dance, but you hesitated.

“Maybe we could just talk?” You asked him quietly. He shook his head and walked off, a sigh escaping your lips once you realized you were alone.

The night wore on with you on the sidelines, drinking sweet tea, and finally you made your way down the street towards your truck. Something stopped you, though, and you made your way into the coon dog cemetery on the edge of town. Maybe Coal was in there. You didn’t realize Jack had been watching you and finally ended up following you, and maybe you wouldn’t have been so honest in your talk with your old dog if you’d known.

You knelt beside the dog’s grave, his collar and your old license plate stuck to the stone placed above him.

“Hey there, buddy. Sorry it took me so long. I would’ve come sooner if I’d known you were sick.” You sniffed, fingers running along the etching of his name in the stone. “Actually, that’s probably not true. I’ve been pretty selfish lately. Dogs don’t know anything about that, do they, though?”

“You were always a big old pillow after missions. Like when everything went pear-shaped after I got shot, you never left my side. And then I just left you. Oh gosh. I bet you sat there on that big old porch, wondering what you done wrong.” You sobbed, wiping the tears away.

“I told him it was my fault.” Jack’s voice broke you out of your concentration and you whipped around to see him kneeling behind you.

“Quit bein’ so nice.” You sniffed, a small smile breaking through your tears. Jack offered you a hand to help you up and you accepted it. He led you to a bench right near Coal’s grave and kept holding your hand.

“It’s the truth.” Jack stated.

“How come everything has to be so complicated,” you asked tearfully. Jack smiled softly at you.

“What?” He asked finally.

“Truth, life, this,” you gestured between the two of you and towards the hand he was still holding in his grip. Jack didn’t answer that, not that you expected him to.

“He was one hell of a good dog, wasn’t he? You looked like you were having fun out there tonight before I got there and ruined it.” Jack mumbled. You brushed a thumb over your intertwined hands softly.

“I’m happy in New York, Jack.” You laughed wetly, “But then I come down here and this fits too.”

“Since when does it have to be one or the other, darlin’? You can have roots and wings, you know.” Jack told you. You nodded.

“Maybe I could just fly south for the winter.” You joked miserably.

Jack finally pointed out towards the woods and nudged your shoulder, “Look.”

“What?” You asked.

“There, see ‘em?” You followed his pointing finger until you realized that he was pointing at fireflies illuminating sections of the woods with their blinking behinds.

“Only you,” you laughed fondly, looking up at him. You couldn’t deny it, Jack was still just as handsome as the day you married him even if the years had gone by.

“You know, I still go out there sometimes. To the meadow, I mean. I hear the crickets and I go and sit in the field and stare up at the stars like we used to. It’s like a religion.” Jack revealed, turning to look down at you to gauge your response.

“I had a dream about it the other night, our first kiss when we were twelve. Remember that?”

“You ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten shot and died on that mission?” Jack asked bluntly. You were surprised and whispered his name.

“Just, let me get this out before I can’t.” Jack started, “I thought us working together on missions would be an adventure. I loved seeing you be this beautiful badass and I loved being the one who got to love you. And it took me awhile to realize that being tied down to me would be your only adventure.”

“I guess that thug knew what he was doing then, aiming at me. I was so ashamed, Jack, ‘cause I felt so relieved once I woke up and remembered everything. And all of a sudden, I just . . . Needed a different life. Y’know? I had to get away.” You were almost frantic in your story, the painful memories resurfacing of how you just ran away from your husband with no explanation. Gosh, the number you did on him.

“You done real well for yourself. I’m proud of you, sugar.” Jack told you sincerely, fingers brushing your hair away from your wet cheeks. “I’m just sorry I never danced with you at our weddin’. I’m sure this next one’s gonna go better for ya.”

You looked up and suddenly your lips were on his and it felt like you were breathing real air for the first time since you left his home and abandoned him. It felt good, his lips brushing yours in just the right ways, but you couldn’t do this.

“Jack, I can’t do this.” You whimpered through your tears. He nodded.

“I know. Go home, Brandy.”

And just like he’d appeared, Jack disappeared in the dark, leaving you alone with your conflicted emotions.

_________________________________________________________________

The next morning found Jack entering the Statesman offices as a man on a mission. But he found an unfamiliar man with flowers in hand, pacing in the lobby.

“Y’alright there?” He asked. The man whipped his head up and sighed.

“I’m here to surprise my fiancée. The secretary won’t let me in because I don’t have a Kentucky Statesman badge, only a New York one.”

Jack quickly realized the situation, knowing immediately that the man was there to see you without needing to be introduced. He also knew that you were probably in Champ’s office, talking smack about missions like you used to do.

“Well, I’m headed upstairs to see a friend of mine, but you’re welcome to join.” Jack motioned to the elevator, and your fiancé quickly nodded and followed him inside the cab. Jack rolled his eyes at the guy’s eagerness.

“So, fiancée huh? Which one of our lucky agents is it?” Jack drawled, knowing full well who this man meant.

“Agent Brandy.” The man answered, “and you are?”

“I’m Agent Whiskey. Who might you be?” Jack smirked.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m Agent Rum.” Rum laughed sheepishly. He was quite a bit smaller than Jack and had to look upwards to make eye contact.

“Ah, so you’re the man Brandy was talking about.” Jack couldn’t help but meddle a little in his ex-wife’s affairs.

“You know Brandy?” Rum asked, surprised.

“Course I know her. I know all about her.” Jack grinned down at the man, “I know her name, her whole life story, everything. She was my partner.”

“She never mentioned you.” Rum stammered. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same girl?”

Jack described you, and Rum nodded, but that description would match a few agents and Rum wasn’t sure Jack really knew who you were. Joke’s on him.

Moonshine got in the elevator and froze once he saw Jack with your fiancé. He’d looked Rum up as soon as you’d mentioned him, and the look Jack had on his face was downright scary to someone who knew him. It was like a lion playing with its prey.

“Uh, uh, hey Whiskey.” Moonshine stuttered.

“Morning,” Jack smiled. “Brandy here?”

Moonshine nodded.

“Yeah, yeah she’s here. She’s with big daddy.”

“Wonderful. I’m just escorting her fiancé here up to meet him.” Jack nodded towards Rum who waved a hand. Jack couldn’t figure out how this man got to be an agent, all timid and shy next to Southern guys. He seemed like a schmuck.

“Oh, that’s great.” Moonshine nodded emphatically.

“I’m sorry, you are?” Rum asked, in reference to Moonshine.

“Name’s Moonshine. I’m Brandy’s, uh—” her turned to look at Jack to figure out what to say.

“Her other partner.” Jack finished. Rum smiled at the two.

“Wow! Two partners while she was here. That’s something.”

Jack rolled his eyes behind the man’s back.

“So what do you like about our Brandy?” Jack finally asked him, directing the both of them to exit the elevator. Champ’s office was just down the way, but Jack wasn’t ready to leave this man with you yet.

Rum spouted off a lot of things that Jack knew you weren’t like whenever y’all were married and he quickly realized that the woman you were with this new guy wasn’t anything like the woman he married. The woman he’d seen in the last few days. This was a woman who had completely changed herself to fit New York, and that just made Jack’s stomach churn.

Finally, he pulled Rum over to Champ’s door and he threw open the doors. You were sat inside, alone, staring at a few photos on the wall before you looked up and made eye contact with your ex-husband. You stood quickly, walking over to the two men standing before you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking at Jack.

“Well, I came to deliver your fiancé.” Jack stared at you real hard.

“I, uh, think she was talking to me.” Rum cut in, handing you the bouquet of flowers he’d been holding.

“Jack . . .” You trailed off.

“Must be exhaustin’.” Jack started.

“What?” you asked softly. Rum echoed the question beside you, finally realizing that you and Jack were talking to each other in a way that wasn’t normal to him.

“Livin’ a lie.” Jack finished, hand shoving his hat further on his head. You shook.

“What’s he talking about?” Rum asked you, and you looked back at Jack, pleading for him to be kind.

“You and I are in love with two different people.” Jack said with a shake of his head as he left the room.

“Who is he really? He said he was your partner.” Rum asked you, staring after Jack’s retreating figure.

“He’s my husband.” You answered.

“Your what?” Rum was dumbfounded.

“I mean my ex-husband.” You gasped, correcting yourself.

“You married your partner?!” Rum was running his hands through his hair, trying to wrap his mind around the situation and realizing just how little he knew about you. Had you up and married another man while you were down here? Were you married before? You interrupted his thoughts with a quiet answer.

“No, I came down here to finalize my divorce.” You sighed.

“Hey darlin’,” Champ burst into the room, “just saw your precious hubby and took his resignation.” He froze once he saw who was with you. “Oh! You must be my baby girl’s new someone!”

You groaned internally.

Rum threw up his hands and made some new noise you’d never heard before then promptly left the room. You scurried after him, trying to get his attention.

“Blake! Wait!”

“I just—” Andrew started as he pressed the button on the outside of the elevator.

“Let me try and explain, you don’t understand!” You tried to wedge your way between him and the door, but he easily slid past you. You slammed your arm against the side of the sliding doors to keep them from closing. “This isn’t who I am anymore!”

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what else you’ve lied about, but I do know one thing. There’s a helicopter parked outside in the field, and I am on it.” Rum’s face was stony as the doors closed.

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, trying to grasp the situation. A sigh escaped your lips before you made your way back to Champ’s office to slump down in a chair.

Champ was sitting at his desk, Statesman glasses perched on his nose and a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He looked up right as you made eye contact and gave you his signature “I told you so” look. You groaned.

“I know you’re thinkin’ I spoiled things real good this time.” You grumbled, chucking your hat on the table.

“Now, sweetheart, don’t go accusin’ me of thinking. I ain’t done anything of the sort.” Champ snorted. “Anyway, I don’t think you spoiled what you think you did. You got a good head on your shoulders kid, and I love you.”

You talked for awhile, catching up on life and missions and things you hadn’t spoken of in years when a knock sounded on the open door of Champ’s office. Champ nodded whoever it was inside, but you didn’t even look up until Champ looked at you with a knowing smile.

“Hey, you two. Look who I found wandering around by the weapons labs.” Moonshine nudged someone forward and you finally looked up. Agent Rum, your fiancé, was in front of you with the sorriest look you’d ever seen on his face.

“I thought you’d be halfway to New York by now.” You said slowly, not sure why he was still here. Your little interlude an hour before sounded like a breakup if you’d ever heard one. You stood up and moved to stand beside Champ, knowing he’d back you up if needed.

“So did I.” Rum smiled sheepishly, nodding toward Champ.

“Oh, this is Agent Champagne, but we call him Champ. He’s basically been my daddy since I started here.” Champ reached up squeezed your hand in reassurance and you moved closer to Rum. “And this is Moonshine. He’s been my best friend for a long time, well, as long as I’ve been good to him. He’s always been a better man. This is where I started, where I grew up, and my home.”

“Well,” Rum started, “it’s nice to meet you both. I’m Agent Rum, Brandy’s fiancé. That is, if she’ll still have me.” You looked at him in surprise. “ Look, I don’t really care what just happened back there. So you have a past. I mean, who doesn’t? We’re all trying to escape something in this life. What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future.”

“Good Lord, he’s saying all sorts of sweet things.” Moonshine muttered and you laughed at him.

“Well?” Rum asked. You nodded with a small smile.

“Crap, guess I need to plan my vacation days to go to New York then.” Champ grumbled at his desk.

“What vacation days, old man?” You sassed Champ. You turned back to Rum, “Babe, what if we had the wedding here? I have so much history here, I’d like to end it all here and start fresh with you.”

Rum smiled and agreed and Champ started hollering about how he couldn’t believe you were going to do this to him again, how he’d have to officiate yet another wedding, and how many times does his only daughter get married? Apparently the answer was twice.

_________________________________________________________________

A month went by before you knew it, full of missions and planning and setting up temporary groups while you’d be on your honeymoon. In between all you had to do in the Statesman offices, you were also wedding planning. Luckily, you had Champ and his wife to help with all that along with AppleJack and your assistant.

Mr. Collier, your lawyer, had been calling nearly every day, but you’d assured him that you had everything handled and that he could clear the divorce without you. You’d been calling Jack a lot too. You wanted to talk to him about what Champ meant when he said Jack had retired, and why no one seemed to want to talk about what he was doing. But he never answered his cell and your old home phone seemed to be disconnected.

It still didn’t feel real that you’d be getting married on Saturday afternoon as you stepped off your Statesman jet at the airfield in Kentucky on Thursday with Agent AppleJack and your assistant—now newly minted Agent Smirnoff.

“You guys remember that mark from a year ago on that mission I was on for about three months, right? The Spanish one?” AppleJack was telling you. You nodded, remembering who she was talking about. He’d been rugged and good looking, and you’d told her as much when you handed her the mission. “Well, he proposed to me, and I think I loved him despite his obvious attraction to black market trading.”

“Then why didn’t you say yes?” Smirnoff asked.

“Because I hesitated long enough to realize my head and my heart were saying two different things. And he was on the other side of the legal fence.” AppleJack scoffed.

You guided the two of them towards your waiting truck and chucked your bags in the bed of it. Theirs followed as they argued.

“Well, it’s a big decision.” You added in.

“It’s supposed to be the easiest one you ever make.” Smirnoff said. You’d always thought he was a romantic, and now you were sure of it.

“Hey, y’all, I want to stop somewhere before we head to the office. Okay?” You turned to look at the two of them, and they shrugged before agreeing. It wasn’t like y’all had much to do today anyway. Champ had already assured you that the cellar was decorated and pretty for you and Rum to tie the knot, and that he’d already arranged everything for your honeymoon too.

You drove the forty-five minutes it took to get to your parents’ old farmhouse where you used to live before it had burned down, taking both your parents with it when you were nineteen. You hadn’t been there since a few days after the fire when you’d set up headstones for your parents on the property, but you wanted to tell them what was going on.

The driveway was long, but you were surprised to see how well kept it was. Then the house came into view along with Jack’s pickup truck and a familiar black dog lounging on the steps. You slammed on the brakes and parked right off the driveway, jumping out of the vehicle.

“Oh my god.” You gasped, looking at the place. It looked nearly identical to the house that burnt down, but there was a new barn in the back of the house and fence posts as far as you could see down the drive that kept going. Your dad had never cleared that far into the woods, but it looked good. It looked like a really successful ranch had been started right where so much devastation had taken place.

“Brandy, do we know the people who live here?” AppleJack asked, finally catching up to your quick walk towards the house. “What is this place?”

A man walked out of the house and froze once he saw you, and you hardly heard both AppleJack and Smirnoff arguing about if he was single.

“Jack,” you breathed. He stepped down off the porch and came over to you, greeting you with a sad smile. “I tried to call you a couple of times.”

“Listen,” he started, completely ignoring your previous statement, “since you’re here, you and your friends should look around. Say hello to the horses in the barn or something. It’s nice out today.” He tipped his hat towards your two companions and called his dog, making his way back into the house before you could say anything else.

You shook your head, trying to clear your eyes of the tears that had somehow started filling them. As you looked around the ranch, you saw all the little things that Jack had done, as well as the big, that made this place feel so much like home. It was almost exactly the way it had been when you lived there so long ago, and you were reminded of the photo Jack had on your old mantel. You’d asked him why he kept it, but he hadn’t answered then. And the times when the guys you used to work with were trying to tell you that Jack was successful now, but Jack had cut them off. Now you knew why. He’d built this place for you.

_________________________________________________________________

When you got to the Kentucky office, Champ was waiting for you downstairs.

“Hey, little darling, there was a man here for you. He straight up asked about your whole name and everything. Did you have a guest coming for the wedding we didn’t know about who’d know your civilian name?” He asked. Your brow furrowed as you shook your head. “Alright, well we sent him on his way, anyhow. I’m sure it’s fine.”

You introduced him to your two companions and Champ grinned, happy to meet two people you trusted with your life. You asked him if Rum was here yet, to which Champ nodded and guided you all inside. “Got here about two hours before you, sweetheart.”

Once you were inside, it seemed like a whirlwind of things happened as you readied yourself to get married for a second time. The next 36 hours were hell, waiting for everything to be finalized so you could get hitched.

It was Saturday morning and Champ had stationed two low ranking agents to man the guests as they filtered into the cellar where you’d be holding the wedding. So far, only agents were to be in attendance and a few plus ones, but you’d wanted to keep it small. So when a balding man appeared and introduced himself as Mr. Collier, telling the two agents that he wasn’t on the list, they promptly told him that he couldn’t come inside as he wasn’t invited. The man insisted he had urgent business with a Ms. Daniels, but the agents weren’t having it and escorted him out of the cellar.

Meanwhile, at your old house, the one you had shared with Jack, your ex-husband was adding the last few crates and boxes of his and your things to his truck. He groaned once he saw his mama leaning up against her car in the driveway since he hadn’t seen her pull up.

“Hey, sweetheart, there’s a wedding goin’ on.” She said softly, helping him throw a gym bag into the backseat of his truck.

“Yeah, I heard mention of it a time or two.” Jack shrugged, “I sure hope this weather cooperates. It’s supposed to be a big storm.” He didn’t want to give into his mama and tell her how he really felt about all this.

The truth was, Jack was devastated. He’d spent so much time trying to get his wife back, and now she was marrying a man he knew she didn’t love as much as she loved him, and it hurt. It felt like something had died inside his chest, and he supposed something did. His heart.

“You know, Jack, you’re my only son and I love you, but sometimes you are too much like your daddy.” Helen sighed.

“She made her decision, Mama.” Jack set the last box in the bed of the truck and covered them up with tarps to keep ‘em dry.

“For somebody who’s been holdin’ onto somethin’ so hard, you’re pretty quick to let it go.” Helen eyed him.

“You know I can’t control her anymore than I can control the weather. I gotta go. I wanna get these inside before the rain ruins whatever I’ve got left.” Jack tipped his hat at his mama and climbed inside the cab. Helen shook her head in disappointment.

Champ stood in the corner of the apartment you’d been occupying in the Statesman office that weekend, watching you adjust your dress and cowboy boots. He smirked once he realized you’d be getting married, Southern style with the boots and a dress that he swore he’d seen in one of those fancy Southern Living magazines his wife was always reading. Or was it Southern Weddings? He didn’t know, but you looked beautiful. Even more so than the first time he’d officiated your wedding to Jack.

You kept fidgeting, causing Champ to speak up.

“It’s just nerves. You’re doing the right thing.” He attempted to reassure you.

“Am I?” You asked, unsure.

“When I married my wife, Lord, I was a goner for that woman. I couldn’t put one foot down in front of the other, despite being an agent with perfect balance, mind you. I remember standin’ there thinking, ‘Oh preacher, better hurry up before this woman changes her mind.’ And look where it got me. Sometimes she drives me so crazy that I could shoot her, but—”

“But you still love her.” You cut him off.

“God knows I do, and only she knows why.” Champ laughed, his eyes teary as he looked you over.

“Champ, I think I—”

“He can give you a life in this company, honey. You’ve always wanted this. And he adores you.” Champ said firmly, not letting you get back on the confusion train.

“He does, doesn’t he?” You sighed, “Well, even if he is a Yankee, at least he’s sober. Let’s go, Champ. I’m ready to get this over with.”

Champ led you down to the cellars, and then down the aisle. He didn’t get you two very far, though, when a man’s shouts were heard yelling “Ms. Daniels! Ms. Daniels!”

You whipped around, confused about why someone would be calling you by your married name. “Mr. Collier?” You asked in surprise. The two agents supposed to be manning the door had grabbed him by now, but you were quick to dismiss them.

Rum called your name, but you held up a hand to stop him from speaking. You didn’t know why Mr. Collier was here, but it had to be important if he was trying this hard to get in contact with you. The man took a moment to catch his breath.

“You are one hard woman to get in contact with.” Mr. Collier wheezed as he bent over to breathe.

“Mr. Collier, he signed the papers.” You said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“He did. You didn’t.” You finally noticed the papers he was holding and sucked in a breath.

“What? You mean I’m still married?” You asked, unsure how you felt about this new information. You thought for sure you’d signed the papers when you’d sent them off the day after Jack had signed them. Apparently, you hadn’t. Mr. Collier pointed at the line above Jack’s name, and sure enough, it was blank.

“Well, not if you don’t want to be.” Mr. Collier replied gently as he handed over the papers.

“For goodness sake, Brandy, I thought you took care of this?” Rum groaned as he made his way to stand in the aisle beside you.

“It’s an honest mistake, Blake.” You shook your head in disbelief.

“Well, then, can we fix it? We’ve got agents who need to be on missions soon and we have a honeymoon to get to.” Rum snorted. Your brows furrowed as you watched this normally kind man getting frustrated over a mistake you hadn’t even realized you made.

“Does anybody have a non-deadly pen?” You asked, knowing no one would have one on them unless it had ten functions to kill someone and not one of them being the purpose of a real pen with ink that would actually stay on the paper. You’d made the mistake before of signing something with ink that removed itself within two hours and you didn’t want to make that mistake again.

No one around you had one, not even Champ, until a woman behind you cleared her throat. You turned around to face your mother in law, Jack’s mom.

“These things don’t just happen, y’know.” Helen said with a knowing smile as she held out a fountain pen. You took it and uncapped it, placing it on the paper but not moving to sign it.

“You can’t ride two horse with one ass, sweetheart.” Champ said from beside you. You looked up at him and with a watery smile, you told him you couldn’t sign the papers.

“Blake,” you started, taking his hands in yours, “You don’t want to marry me.”

“I don’t?” He asked, eyes almost looking dangerous.

“No, you don’t. Not really. You see, the truth is—” You hesitated before continuing. “I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back. And I don’t even know what else to say besides ‘I’m sorry.’ I can’t marry you, and you shouldn’t want to marry me.”

“So this is what it feels like.” Blake muttered, eyes definitely glittering with anger now. “You can’t just do this to me. That’s it? You’re just going to leave me for the man you haven’t even wanted to be married to for seven years? God, Brandy, what the hell!” He shouted.

You took a step back, attempting to make space and remove your hands from his, but he held your hands tightly. You gulped, knowing Blake wasn’t done.

“In my entire career, and I have a good one, I have never met someone so deceitful and manipulative! I should’ve known, considering our occupations, but this is so disgusting what you’ve done.” Blake spat.

“I’m just trying to be honest.” You whispered.

“You are such a little bitch.” Blake roughly dropped your hands and Champ immediately stepped in, crowding the shorter agent.

“Now, look here, Agent Rum. She said her piece and there’s no need for name-callin’, you hear me?” Champ growled.

“Oh go back to your office and get shit-faced.” Blake spat at Champ’s feet. You saw red.

“Nobody talks to my daddy like that.” You growled, throwing one of your best punches. Agent Rum was soon on the ground and you chucked your engagement ring at his head. It hit his cheek and bounced off somewhere, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Praise the Lord, my baby’s back.” Champ cheered, pulling you away from your ex-fiancé.

“Hey y’all!” You shouted as you stood up on an empty chair in the venue, “If you’re friends of the bride, stick around! I’m gonna go find me a groom!”

And then you were off, grabbing your keys from Moonshine and hopping in your truck, wedding dress getting stuck in the door. You didn’t care, though. You knew exactly where Jack would be and you planned to go get your man back.

You roared into the meadow, truck chassis bumping around on the uneven ground. The door was flung open and you were racing across the field, dress bunched in your hands. Rain had started falling, and Jack was sitting in the bed of his truck getting sopping wet. He had a bottle of whiskey in his hands, but he hadn’t quite noticed you yet.

“Hey, cowboy!” You shouted above the rain and he whipped around to face you, eyes wide beneath the brim of his hat. Rain dripped off the edges and you almost laughed at how bedraggled he looked, but refrained. “You owe me a dance.”

“Nice dress. Where’s your husband?” Jack finally said as he capped the whiskey bottle and set it down beside him in the truck bed.

“I’m lookin’ at him.” You said, and Jack froze. “Apparently, you and I are still hitched.”

“Is that right?” He asked slowly as he got off the tailgate. He made his way over to stand in front of you, rain still pouring over the both of you to the point where you could only really see him anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me you came to New York?” You asked desperately, needing to know if he still wanted you, if he still loved you.

“I needed to make somethin’ of myself.”

“About done?” You asked in disbelief. This man was already enough for you, how could he not see it?

“What is it about you Southern girls? You can’t make the right decisions ‘til you tried all the wrong ones?” Jack scoffed. He was sure this was some elaborate joke, that your fiancé would hop out of your pickup truck and laugh at him any minute now.

“At least I fight for what I want!”

“Oh, what do you want, honey? Hell, I don’t even think you know.” Jack shook his head.

“You’re the first boy I ever kissed, Jack, and I want you to be the last.” You said as you stepped closer to him, dress dragging in the grass and dirt. You didn’t even care, not if it meant you could get your husband back.

“Maybe you and I had our chance.” Jack muttered, hoping you couldn’t hear him, but you did.

“Fine! Have it your way, stubborn ass!” You yelled.

“Whatcha wanna be married to me for anyhow?” Jack asked, repeating what you’d asked him all those years ago when you were twelve. You grinned, catching up to his game.

“So I can kiss you anytime I want.”

And then you were in his arms and he was kissing you, his hat dumping water on the both of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were already soaked. You’d gotten your man back, and you sighed into his mouth. You didn’t want to move again, the feeling of his kiss bringing life back into your lungs and giving you space to breathe for the first time in a long time. He just felt right. Hands wandered up his back and you knocked off his hat in an effort to get even closer to him. He groaned when fingers locked into his now soaked hair, tongue slipping into your mouth when you whined.

You only broke away when you heard someone yelling at the both of you, lights shining right onto your interlocking figures.

“What the hell are you two trying to do? Get yourselves killed?” Tequila yelled. You laughed, breaking away from Jack just long enough to shout back.

“What seems to be the trouble, officer?”

“I’m here to bring you in again, little lady!” Tequila called back, hands on his hips and looking downright hilarious.

“What did she do this time?” Jack shouted. He walked you both closer to Tequila and the man had the audacity to grin at the two of you.

“Well, the way I hear it, seems she run out on a perfectly good cake!”

You laughed and smooched Jack on the cheek before reaching down to grab his hat from the ground.

“Get in my truck, cowboy!” You grinned, “Seems we finally get our reception!”

You raced your husband to your truck, hopping in and laughing at the way you both shivered from the cool air you’d had blasting. Jack swore and turned on the heat as you got yourselves out of the meadow and started following the red and blue flashing lights of Tequila’s patrol car.

You reached a hand over to hold Jack’s and he lifted your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to the knuckles.

“I love you.” He murmured and you returned the sentiments, happy for the first time in a long time.

Tequila led you to the bar Helen owned, and you laughed once you realized where the guys had decided to hold your reception. It was only fitting that the place where you’d originally hosted your first reception was now the place of your second, and with the same man no less.

Tequila made his way indoors first and introduced you, yelling out a “Ladies and gentleman, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Daniels!”

You rushed inside, nearly tripping over your boots and dress, but Jack steadied you, dipping you for a deep kiss just inside the door.

Catcalls filled the air as Jack lifted you back up, a boyish grin gracing his lips.

“I do believe I owe this lady a dance,” Jack nodded at his Mama by the jukebox and she smiled at the two of you.

“You sure do!” Moonshine shouted.

“Hey Helen,” you turned to Jack’s mama, “make it a slow one.”

She saluted you, and then hit a button, playing Tennessee Whiskey. Jack snorted at the song choice as he held your waist in the middle of the space they’d cleared for a dance floor, but you didn’t mind. You’d always joked that the song was about him with his Statesman name, and he hated it. You loved him, though.

You had your husband back and you weren’t ever going to give him up again. You swayed to the song for a moment before leaning up to kiss him. Finally, you were home.