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marmixedwithabitofintellect · 9 months ago

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Chapter Six: New Adventures

Surprise Surprise! 🥹🥹🥹 I have missed you all so much and I am so happy to be back writing! This chapter has tested me in ways I could have never imagined, but I am so glad I finally finished and I'm sharing it with you guys 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 I hope you enjoy it and I promise there won't be so much time in between postings ✨✨✨ As always, my inbox is open for you guys and please come talk to me about what you thought of the chapter! All the love, Mar 🤍

May 14, 2022 – June 13, 2022: Month Six

May 17, 2022

Harry. New York City, New York. 7:20 P.M.

The house hadn’t been this loud for a while, probably since Coachella. While Y/N was busy getting Pippa ready for bed, I was in the kitchen with Lambert and Jeff finishing dinner while Pauli, Niji and Elin helped us by setting the table. Mitch went to the airport to pick up Sarah and Glenne, while Ny Oh let us know she would be here later.

After placing the pizzas in the oven there were strong knocks coming from the door which had me laughing, as soon as I opened Glenne kissed my cheek quickly while removing her shoes and pouring some antibacterial gel, “Is she still awake?”, I smiled and nodded, Glenne reached in for Sarah, and they started making their way to the nursery.

I greeted Mitch while leading him to the kitchen, then made my way to the nursery. Once inside, I smiled and went to hug Y/N and kissed her temple, she squeezed my side and turned to kiss my chest, Sarah and Glenne were busy cuddling Pippa who was all smiles.

Y/N cleared her throat and started making her way to grab Pippa, “Okay little miss, say goodbye to your aunts, okay?”, Sarah and Glenne pouted and kissed Pip, then handed Pippa back, exited and closed the nursery door; Y/N settled into the rocking chair while I floated around the room making sure the monitor and fairy lights were on, then sat down next to her and kissed her knee.

She smiled and ran a hand down my face before turning to look at Pip before whispering, “How is she six months old already? It still feels surreal, like six months ago we were learning to give her a bath”, I smiled, and nodded, “Time has gone by so fast, and doing this with you has been the best experience ever”, she smiled and blew me a kiss, “I love you Harry”, I squeezed her hand, “I love you too Y/N”.

Once we settled Pippa in her bassinet, we closed the door and went back into the living room to have dinner with our friends. Once everyone had their dinner plates served and found a place to seat, I reached for my glass and cleared my throat, “Well hello everyone! Thank you for being here; I am glad to have you all here, especially because we still had to celebrate and welcome Jaffra to the band!”

Cheers were heard all over while Jaffra gave us a smile and a silent thank you; once the cheers were done everyone was looking at me again, I smiled and sighed, “So… we’re just three days away from the release of the new album- “, I smiled as cheers and hollers were heard around the living room.

I cleared my throat, “And once the album is out, chaos will surely ensue; between the One Night Only shows and the beginning of tour, this will be a few busy weeks, but I am forever grateful to have you all here with me”, Mitch then said “Here, here!”, I smiled before placing my glass at the table.

“We are about to embark the biggest year of tour so far; with the residencies, Latin America, Australia, Asia and back to Europe it will be a hell of a year, but I trust that we have a great team and things will go on smoothly”, everyone nodded while I took a deep breath, “However, I really feel the need to ask a selfish favor from you”.

Everyone, except for Jeff and Y/N nodded, “I need you guys to promise that you will have the best time, that you will enjoy everything, the good, the bad and the worst, to give your everything into every show, every rehearsal and every travel, because… because I honestly don’t know if this will be the last time we will do this”.

Y/N squeezed my hand and kissed my cheek, “This has been, a very wild ride, and to be honest with you... life has changed so much this last year, and I really don’t know where we’ll be tomorrow, but what I do know, is that right this second, this is where we are supposed to be”, there were nods all over the place, “So once more, let’s cheer to welcome this last adventure with Love On Tour!”.

May 19, 2022

Harry. New York City, New York. 11:55 P.M.

“Drive safely guys! See you tomorrow!”, Glenne and Jeff gave me another wave as the elevator closed, I also closed and locked the main door and leaned mt forehead taking a deep breath, I then walked to the kitchen, made sure that all lights were off, and trash was put away then made my way to the master bedroom.

I expected for Y/N and Pip to be sleeping but was surprised when I opened the door and saw Y/N sitting up and looking out the window and the anxiety I felt when Glenne asked me to go with her to the nursery returned. I sat next to her in bed and reached to run my hand down her face, she turned to see me and gave me a small smile.

“Hi baby, everyone gone?”, I nodded and kissed her cheek before whispering, “Yes, everyone asked me to say goodbye and that they can’t wait to see you tomorrow”, she nodded and sighed while reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze.

I placed another kiss to her cheek before whispering, “You okay?”, she nodded and turned to see me, “Yeah, just tired, all the excitement and the long nights drained me”, I nodded while she continued to talk, “Let’s go to bed yeah? You need your rest too”.

I sighed defeatedly and nodded my head, then made my way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Once outside I leaned into the bassinet to see Pippa, I smiled then leaned to kiss her cheek softly before pulling back and getting into bed, Y/N joining me a few seconds later.

We both made sure our alarms were one before cuddling into our pillows, I pulled her by the waist and nuzzled her neck, she made sure she was comfortable before letting out a breath and kissing her cheek before whispering, “I love you, and I’m here for you baby, whatever you may need”.

May 21, 2022

New York City, New York. 7:30 A.M.

The smell of fresh coffee pulled me from the slumber I fell into after feeding Pip at around three. I got out of bed and made sure she was still sleeping then left the room, leaving the door was ajar. I then started walking to the kitchen where I could hear Harry humming and cooking.

When I entered, I started making my way to stand behind him and placed a kiss between his shoulder blades, then wrapped my hands around him, he reached down to kiss my hands before whispering, “Good morning baby”, I smiled and placed another kiss, “Hi you, I missed you in bed”.

He laughed a little and turned off the stove, served breakfast and grabbed the plates while I grabbed the coffees before making our way to the table; we started eating in silence, placing little kisses in each other’s hands before he cleared his throat, “How are you?”, his eyes were hopeful on me talking to him.

I sighed and wished I could ignore the elephant in the room but knew it would not be worth it, “I’m not okay, I’m very sad and disappointed”, I sniffled, he reached to clean my tears, “Baby, maybe you should talk with Ellie, or even your dad”, I shrugged my shoulders, “What good would it do? She still belittled me and my baby”, I sniffled, “I get it, I am her disappointment but that little girl sleeping in her bassinet is not guilty.”

He nodded and kissed my temple then rested his forehead against it, I continued to speak up, “I just don’t understand, how can she see her and still pretend she doesn’t exist; isn’t she curious? Like doesn’t she want to know who she is, who she looks like, if she has any personality quirks from me?”

Harry ran his hand down my back then whispered, “I wish I could go back in time and give her a piece of my mind, be sure to protect you both from her; above all I wish I could take away your pain and sadness because you don’t deserve it, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t.”

I smiled in appreciation and reached for a napkin, “I will be okay, I promise you, but I need to feel sad and process this, okay?”, he nodded and squeezed my arm, “However you Mister should start to finish your suitcases, okay? Us girls are already packed, and we leave in about seven hours”, he laughed, then stood up and started clearing the table, “Fine, I will pick this up and will finish packing, okay?”

I nodded then left the kitchen and went into the room and smiled when I noticed that Pippa was slowly rousing form her sleep, “Oh hi baby! good morning my girl how are you?”, she cooed once I pulled her into my arms and started leaving slobbery kisses on my face, “Are you hungry? Yeah? Let’s go eat, then we will have some tummy time and then we’ll get ready, and you’ll nap before our flight because we are leaving for London!”

Pippa smiled and we switched sides, “Oh look at that smile! You’re so happy to go to London huh? I am too, I miss our family so much”, our family, as warmth spread through my chest I turned down and smiled at her, “Yeah baby, our family, the one who chose me and love you because you are their blood, the ones we deserve and will love us forever.”

May 22, 2022

Harry. London, England. 12:45 P.M.

We had been back in London for less than 48 hours and it felt so good just to be home. Even if there was so much chaos and things to get ready, being back with family made the whole travel worth it. My mum had made sure that our fridge and pantry were stocked as soon as we arrived then left some dinner ready for us.

I was finishing setting the table while Y/N got Pippa ready while we waited for our guests to arrive; after setting down some wine glasses the doorbell rang and I smiled when I opened it and saw our first arrival, “Dad! Welcome, come in!”, my dad smiled and hugged me, then proceeded to remove his coat and hang it on one of the available hooks.

“Harry! How are you son? I hope I am not too early?”, I shook my head and we started making our way to the living room, “Not at all, just finished setting the table and waiting for my ladies to be ready, little one woke from her nap a little ago”, he smiled and before he could speak, a voice carried over from the stairs and into the living room.

“I hear that someone is asking for the girl of the hour?”, Y/N appeared with Pippa in her arms and gave my dad a smile while walking to where he was standing, “Des! Welcome! It is so good to see you!”, my dad met her halfway and pulled her into a half hug, “Hello darling, it’s so good to have you guys back here.”

I smiled when I realized that Pippa was giving my dad a very curious look, but still held on to her mum’s arm, she laughed a little and bounced her while my dad offered her a smile and coo, Y/N spoke up, “Who is that baby? Is that your grandad? Do you wanna say hello?”, my dad reached for her and started kissing her cheek, while Pippa patted his cheek.

The doorbell rang again and as Y/N went to open I went to stand next to my dad and Pip, she offered me a smile and I chuckled a little, my dad ran a hand down her head, “Oh she’s definitely a daddy’s girl huh?”, I nodded and reached to kiss her cheek, then turned to look at him, “I mean yes, but as soon as she sees her mum, dad is out of the picture”.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Y/N come into the living room followed by Gemma, Michal and my mum; we all said our hellos and sat down in the living room for a little, Y/N left to check how lunch was coming along and when she came back she sat next to me, I kissed her temple and continued talking with Michal.

Gemma cleared her throat and reached out her arms to grab Pippa, who was still happily being held by my dad, my mum going to sit next to him and cooing at her hoping to coax a few smiles and giggles, “Okay can the grandparents share her with her fave aunt?”, my mum shook her head and my dad placed a kiss on Pippa’s forehead before handing her to Gemma, who was smiling so big and kissing all over her face while the baby cooed at her.

“I can’t believe she can laugh now”, my mum nodded along with my dad who was smiling at the baby as he spoke, then added, “Before we know it she will be crawling and walking and talking”, I shook my head and pouted, “Nope, not happening, we have been discussing the fact that she needs to stay this little forever”, Y/N shook her head but before she could add anything else left for the kitchen to get the pasta out of the oven.

“H! It’s ready!”, I nodded to the direction of her voice then turned to our guests, “Okay everyone lunch is ready, so let’s go to the dining room”, we all started walking towards the lovely smells and took our seats at the table, Y/N went to grab Pippa and promised Gem she would give her back as soon as she ate, the took her seat next to me and settled Pip in her lounger.

After a delicious lunch and an even better conversation, we all moved back to the living room to have some dessert and tea; Gemma laid with Pippa, Y/N, and my mum on her little playmat for her tummy time while the rest of us scattered in the couches around. My mum then turned to look at me and asked, “Is everything ready for your show?”

I nodded while I sipped on my tea then left it on the coaster, “Pretty much, we will do a visit to the venue tomorrow and Tuesday will be packed before the show; I’ve arranged for a van to pick you all up so that you can all come together, is that okay?”, everyone nodded then continued to enjoy their dessert.

It was around seven that we said our goodbyes and once I made sure my mum was distracted, I nodded at Gemma, who came to stand next to me and whispered, “So, still up for babysitting tomorrow?”, she nodded then turned to make sure mum was not coming, “Yup, will be here tomorrow at around 5 okay?”, I nodded and then we said our goodbyes; once I made sure they were all on their cars I licked the door and went upstairs to join bedtime routine.

May 24, 2022

London, England. 10:30 P.M.

I closed the nursery door and made sure that the monitor was on before making my way downstairs where friends and family were digging into the catering we had ordered for after Harry’s concert, which by the way, had been such an eclectic event.

Once I entered the kitchen, I was greeted with a plate served by Anne, I smiled in appreciation and she squeezed my arm before taking a sip of her drink, “Baby went down, okay?”, I nodded and finished chewing before answering her, “She did, I was worried she would wake up once I transferred her, but she must’ve been so tired.”

She chuckled in agreement and gave me a soft smile, a few seconds later I felt someone pull me into a chest and kiss the back of my head, I smiled and settled myself against his side and kissed his peck, “Hello superstar! Enjoying your party?”, he nodded and opened his mouth, I fed him a bite of my sandwich and while he chewed Anne and I continued to discuss our plans for the weekend.

After swallowing his bite, he gave me a soft squeeze and then turned to look at Gemma and asked her to come over, Anne gave us a curious smile and I reached to squeeze her arm, she then asked us, “Is everything okay?”, we nodded and Harry spoke up, “We just want to talk to you all, is that okay?”, they both nodded and we made our way to the foyer, where we knew we could talk privately.

Des and Michal also joined us, and Harry cleared his throat before speaking up, “So… we have been keeping a secret from you guys”, my mum gasped before excitedly whispering, “Are you pregnant?”, we both chuckled and shook our heads, “No, we’re not pregnant, but we hope to have more babies later on.”

Anne nodded and asked us, “Well, are you guys okay?”, Harry nodded and smiled, “Yeah mum… uhm we have been speaking about our future as a family, and where we want to settle”, Gem was smiling while my mom gave us a hopeful smile, Harry continued, “So… we have been viewing a few properties in different locations, and…”

Anne gave us an excited but careful nod and harry turned to look at me, I smiled and kissed his hand, which was laying on my shoulder then turned to look at our family, “We just put an offer for a house”, before they could speak up, I added, “Here, well actually, a few blocks down”, everyone’s eyes opened so big, Anne was stuck in her place while Gemma pulled us into a hug followed by everyone else.

Anne stood frozen in her place with some tears falling from her eyes, Harry walked carefully next to her and as soon as she could she pulled him into her arms, and a few seconds later she pulled me into her arms too, then whispered, “I cannot believe this! I honestly had made pace with the idea of only seeing you three every few months, but the fact that I will be able to see you when we feel like it? It’s just priceless.”

We pulled back and turned to look at everyone, Des spoke up, “So what’s next?”, Harry smiled, “Well, we have to wait and see if the offer will be accepted, Olive our real estate agent said it could take anywhere from weeks to months, so it’s a waiting game”, Gemma smiled, “Well, I cannot wait for us to be able to go house shopping”, I laughed, “I’ll definitely let you know Gems”.

May 28, 2022

Harry. London, England. 10:30 A.M.

“See you in a few mate!”, Jeff nodded and continued to walk with the personnel from BBC while I made my way to the entrance to collect Y/N and Pippa, as soon as I saw her she gave me a big smile and I pulled her into a kiss and hug, then we started to make our way back to my dressing room.

Once inside I lifted the blanket covering the stroller and smiled at the sleeping baby; not wanting to disturb her sleep I let the blanket fall again and walked to sit with Y/N on the couch, once I settled her on my lap, I started kissing her cheek repeatedly while she let out some squeals and little laughs.

A ping from her phone had me pulling back and reaching for my phone to see if I had any new notifications. She took out a deep breath and squeezed my arm before chuckling, I turned to look at her and gave her a questioning look, she settled on my lap and whispered “Harry…”, u hummed and kissed her nose with my eyes closed.

She whispered again, “They accepted the offer”, I opened my eyes and smiled at her, my eyes asking her to confirm what she just said, and she nodded before speaking up, “We got our house H”, I stood up and pulled her into a hug while we spun, making sure to keep quiet for the baby. I stopped and whispered against her lips, “We got our house baby”, she nodded and placed a chaste kiss then whispered, “We got our house”.

June 11, 2022

Glasgow, Scotland. 7:30 A.M.

A whimper coming from the monitor pulled me out of bed, I grabbed my sweatshirt then made my way to the adjoining room where we had created a nursery for Pippa, turned on the lamp and cooed at the crying baby, “Oh no baby what are those tears for huh? We’re here for a dress-up party for your daddy!”

I settled on the bed and removed my sweatshirt and shirt so I could feed Pippa, who latched immediately, “Oh you were hungry huh? I’m sorry baby I am such a meanie huh?”, she turned to look at me and my eyes watered, I still could not understand how I could love her so much.

Once she finished, I changed her diaper and we left her room and ordered some room service, the turned to pull out the little cake, candles, and balloons I bought yesterday while sightseeing with Glenne. As soon as I finished setting up room service arrived, and I went into our room to wake him up.

With Pippa in my arms, I walked to my side of the bed and settled with her on the bed, once she saw her dad she squealed and I laughed, then placed her next to Harry’s face, “Come on baby say, ‘Dada wake up!’”, she started aggressively patting his cheek; he let out a deep breath and chuckled, “Morning baby girl! hello you!”, he turned around and pulled her into his lap, she smiled and he pulled her in for a kiss then turned to look at me, “Hi baby.”

I smiled and leaned to kiss his lips then whispered, “Hi, breakfast is ready, wanna come out?”, he nodded then handed me the baby, went to the bathroom and as soon as he came out, we headed to the living room. He stopped on his tracks and smiled at the decorations I set out for him and pulled me into a hug.

We sat down and started eating breakfast, then I lit up the candle and before he could blow it I cleared my throat, “I just want to say that I’m so proud of you, it is amazing to be a witness to your radiance and happiness and to be able to love you at the end of everything”, I sniffled and he squeezed my hand and reached for Pippa.

“I know that we won’t be able to be with you every single date physically, but I need you to remember that we are always with you here”, I placed my hand over his heart and he sniffled before whispering, “I love you Y/N more than words are able to express it, and I know I repeat it a lot, but I truly will never ever be able to repay you for everything.”

I pulled him in for a kiss, then left a bunch of smooches on Pippa’s head before pulling back and whispering, “Now before you blow your candles, I want for you to make a wish for this tour, okay?”, he nodded and closed his eyes, then blew out the candle. Pippa and I clapped a little then kissed his cheek before speaking up, “Okay my love, you have about four hours until we have to be at the arena, so take your time getting ready, okay?”, he nodded then pulled me up, “How about we settle her for a nap then enjoy the tub for a little?”, I nodded then followed him.

June 11, 2022

Harry. Glasgow, Scotland. 7:45 P.M.

The murmur of the crowd was enough for my hands to tremble harder than they already were before and I could feel the sweat falling down my spine; I had been ready for a while and met my band for our pre-show ritual, and hugged my family, but right now the only thing I wanted was to hug my girls.

Speaking of, they have been on my dressing room for a while because little miss Pippa had an explosive accident, so I knew that’s where I would find them. As soon as I entered Y/N offered me a smile, however it disappeared when I started sniffling and making my way to them, “Baby what’s- “, I didn’t let her finish before I pulled her into a hug.

She started running her hand down my back while cooing at me, “Baby it’s okay, take a deep breath”, it took me a few moments, but I calmed down and we pulled back; she ran her hands down my cheeks and cleaned my tears.

Before I could speak up a shriek had us looking at the baby laying on the cushions next to us, Y/N laughed and pulled her into her arms kissing her head, “Were you missing us baby? we could never forget you huh?”, I smiled and handed Pippa my fingers to chew on, Y/N whispered, “Feeling better?”, I nodded, “so much.”

We stayed like this until Jeff came to get us, I pulled her up with me and we walked all the way to the side of the stage, we turned to look at each other and smiled, she spoke up, “We’ll be watching from the box, yes?”, I nodded and kissed Pip’s cheeks and her lips three times, “I love you baby, I’ll see you after okay?”

She nodded and I started making my way to the back of the stage and stopped on my tracks when I heard her scream my name, I turned to look at her, “Yes?”, she smiled, “Welcome to Love on Tour 2.0; break a leg handsome.”

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calholic · 1 year ago

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T. KAULITZ x READER

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you and your band went clubbing with tokio hotel

★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of alcohol, swearing

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i named all the members after jersey shore cast lol. also pt. 2 coming idk whennnnn

you and your band met tokio hotel at an awards show after party and the 8 of you hit it off immediately. since your band made similar music to theirs, you guys had a few things in common. after that night the 8 of you would hang out everywhere whenever you would see each other - which was not often since you were both from different countries.

you were secretly crushing from one of the members from the band, tom. he was just so dreamy when you first met him and the fact you were both guitarists made the conversations easier. you kept this crush secret for a number of reasons: not wanting to get teased by your members, being scared of rejection, and fear of ruining the friendship. being intimated by tom since you knew he was a playboy, you would usually avoid one-on-one interactions with him and mostly speak to gustav since he was the nicest or one of your band members.

you knew you had no chance with tom but when he would jokingly flirt with you, you just couldn’t help it.

sometimes you would catch him flirting with other girls when you guys go clubbing and you could pretend it didn’t hurt, or that it doesn’t pain you on the inside but you couldn’t hide the disgusted look on your face. usually after you witnessed him picking up girls you would avoid talking to him for a few weeks, then fold after he flirted with you and the cycle would study repeat.

the only person you’ve ever told about you crush on tom was jolie, the bass in your band. she was the only other girl in there so you felt like you could talk to her about anything and you could. she supported your crush except for the fact that it was one-sided and kind of toxic since you would end up getting your feelings hurt knowing the kind of person tom is. “he only needs love for one night,” jolie quoted, mocking what tom had said in an interview while laughing. “maybe i can change his mindset,” you said. jolie laughed at you before giving you a hug. “girl it’s not your responsibility to change this man. if he wants you he’ll come to you,” she said. “you’re right,” you sighed.

“hey guys, bill and the others are in town for their tour. they want to know if we want to go out with them tonight,” said pauly, the drummer as he walked in with vinny who’s on vocals. “speak of the devil,” jolie whispered to you. “uh- sure we’ll go,” you said. “where do they wanna go?” asked jolie. “probably the club or something i don’t know. i’ll tell them to meet at ours in a few hours though,” pauly said before leaving the room. “i’m not sure i want to go clubbing with tom again,” you said to jolie. “i think it’s best if you don’t but we don’t have any other choice. why don’t you just stay with me the whole night?” jolie suggested.

you smiled at jolie, “sounds good, i love you,” you said before giving her a hug. you and jolie decided to clean around the apartment a little before the others got here. you put on some music and the two of you started dancing. you were in your underwear since you’ve basically been in your pajamas and bed all day. you both didn’t think cleaning would take that long but minutes turned into hours and before you knew it they had already arrived.

your back was to the door and you were dancing as you wiped the counters. you didn’t jolie open door and you certainly didn’t stop dancing either. “uhm ______,” jolie said trying to hold in a laugh. you finally turned around to see tom recording as he tried holding in a laugh too. “fuck me,” you said before running into you room to put some pants on. when you got back everyone was on the couch now and you face was still red. the room was quiet as you took a seat next to jolie after waving to gustav.

“i like your underwear,” tom said smirking and laughing. “whatever perv,” you replied as you rolled your eyes, secretly enjoying the attention. “so what club do you guys wanna go to firat?” asked pauly who had no idea what happened beforehand. “uhh there’s not a specific one since we don’t know this city well so i guess we’ll just go whenever you guys pick,” bill said. “oh sure, let’s have a few drinks before we go then,” pauly said, getting up to grab some bottles.

“so you guys are here on your right? are you having fun in the city so far?” vinny asked trying to make some conversation and at the same time lighten the mood. “yeah it’s pretty fun so far,” georg said. “way different from germany i would say,” gustav added. “the girls here are hot, hope they let me hit,” tom said. the room immediately went silent and the atmosphere went back to being awkward. your smile faded as you looked at jolie. she gave you an “i’m sorry look.” you looked down at your thighs and didn’t say anything until you guys left for the club. no one noticed your mood change other than jolie but bill and gustav had and eye on you which you didn’t notice.

tom immediately broke off from the group and approached a group of girls when you guys got to club which made you stomach turn. “ignore it,” jolie said before grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the bar. after a while, the group had all split up, with some sticking together. georg somewhere upstairs, gustav and vinny spread on a couch, tom still with the girls, bill playing pool with pauly, and you with jolie at the bar. you weren’t in the mood for drinking so you just sat and watched jolie chug drink after drink and take one shot after another. when jolie was drunk, she would get flirty and approach the nearest guy which so happened to be a hot blonde sitting next to us.

you watched as she made her way towards him and excused yourself once they got handsy with each other. you decided to walk around and explore the bar since you’ve never been to this one. you found georg first when you went upstairs. he looked as he hunched over the balcony. “georg?” you called out. he turned around was obviously out of it so you decided it was time for you all to leave.

the two of you went to go find the others, starting with gustav and vinny. they were drunk as well which left you as the sober and responsible one. a girl was sat on vinny lap and you pushed her off, dragging the both of them to now go find bill since you figured he was responsible enough to stay somewhat sober. bill was by the pool table with pauly who was now pushing himself with a random girl. “bill!” you called out. he turned around and smiled at you. “oh hey ______,” he said. you gave him and hug, very glad to see him. “please tell me you’re sober,” you said as you let go.

“i am and why are you dragging around the others? are they drunk?” he asked “oh my god yes. i think it’s time to go home now i was just going around and finding the others,” you said. “oh well let me help then,” he replied with a smile. “perfect, i just need to get jolie and tom,” you said. “here take these three i’ll go get them, and watch pauly too,” you said running away before bill grabbed you. “uhm actually i’ll go get tom and jolie as well, why don’t you stay here?” he suggested. “oh… okay i guess,” you replied as he left.

you grabbed pauly away from the girl and called your manager, asking her to come pick you all up. you sat down and exhaled as you closed your eyes. you wondered why bill insisted on getting tom. a few minutes later bill came with tom and jolie who were both drunk too. “these people have a problem. anyways, i called my manager she’ll come pick us up soon,” you said. your manger arrived a few moments later and you got in. there was no room for eight people in the six passenger van so you all had to make space.

you sat by a window, tom squished next to you with jolie and gustav on the other side. vinny and gustav had to sit on pauly and bills lap since there were no seats left. “thanks for the ride, sorry to call you so late,” you said to your manager. tom fell asleep on shoulder, linking your arm with his and the others fell asleep soon after too. it’s was just you and bill awake now. “you like tom don’t you ______?” bill asked. this question took you by shock and you were dumbfounded. “no, why?” you asked laughing it off. “don’t lie ______, i see the way you look at him,” bill said. “you caught me i guess,” you replied.

“tom is complicated when it comes to relationships,” bill said. “i know bill,” you replied. “anyways!” you said trying to change the subject. “why didn’t you just let me go get tom and jolie?” you asked. bill was quiet. “do you really want to know?” he asked. “yeah…?” you replied. “i saw tom go in the bathroom with a girl, i know you like him so i didn’t want you to see that,” he said. “why would you tell me if you didn’t want me to see it?” you asked. “you were the one that wanted to hear it,” he replied. before you could say something tom suddenly woke up and looked at you.

“i’m hungry,” he said. “what?” you asked confused. “can’t we get something to eat?” he asked. you rolled your eyes and sighed “ fine, can you pull in to that restaurant?” you asked your manager. everyone was awake now as your manager pulled up to the drive through of the fast food restaurant. you guys quickly ordered and grabbed your food.

“do you guys have a show tomorrow?” you asked bill. “why don’t you stay at our place tonight, it’s late,” you suggested. “sure, we don’t really have anything scheduled tomorrow,” he replied. you brought everyone inside the apartment before thanking your manager once more. jolie went for the couch and sprawled out on it leaving the others on the floor. “why don’t you, georg, gustav and tom sleep in paul and vinny’s room while the others stay in jolie and i’s room?” you suggested to bill. “sounds good,” he said before taking them down the hall.

you sat down on the couch next to jolie, trying to wake her up as vinny and pauly walked into your room. “jolie, come on, wake up,” you said lifting her up and bringing her to bed. vinny and pauly were on your bed so you and jolie slept on her mattress. you laid down and thought about what bill said about tom - how he was with another girl. you then thought about what jolie said and decided it was time to move on from tom, the thought that he could flirt with you but be with another bitch made you sick.you decided to go bed, hoping to avoid him the next morning.

#no proofreading we die like men #2000s #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel x reader #fan fiction #2000s music #2000s fashion #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz x reader

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faghubby · 10 months ago

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giving in to desire part 2

Mom and I talked everyday. She asked about very personal things now. Things we never spoke about. She asked about sex. Who I had been with. She somehow managed to get me to confess things to her. She seemed surprised that I was a virgin. And then asked if there was someone I liked. She encouraged me to shave not only my legs but all my body hair. We talked about clothes and styles, maybe letting my hair grow out. After a few weeks she started openly talking about boys. I came to admit that I found not only woman but men attractive as well. I figured we talked as a grown mother and daughter would talk. I became much closer to her then I had ever been with my dad, or anyone else for that matter.

I found myself becoming more and more risqué. Often wearing panties to bed. Or even a nightie wondering if I would get caught by my roommate. Who's bed was just 10 feet away. I also started using the purple vibrator my mom had stuck in with all those beauty supplies. At first rubbing it against my dick but then soon shoving in my ass. Mon sent me a care package. It was full of girlie clothes. Alot that no one would notice unless they looked close but also a satin nightie. And pantyhose. Most exciting was a pair of high heels in my size. Mom encouraged me to wear the clothes in public. The modest things like the jeans or the tee shirt. That the sleeves seemed short.

"Paul you look so lovely" mom said as I sent her picks of me dressed in jeans and a simple tee shirt. "I guess I should start calling you Paula?" She giggled.

"Mom!" I said embarrassed

"What?, tell me you don't want to be my daughter" she said. I blushed she was right I loved being girlie.

"How about Pauly for now" I said

"Okay Pauly it is" she said.

That night Kevin (my roommate) came in late I was already in bed. He seemed very high trying to be quiet he of course woke half the dorm up. Before he crashed on his bed. He had left the light on. So I got up to turn it off after I was sure he was asleep. I got up I was wearing a satin pink pj's. Covered in little hearts. I noticed he had not even managed to remove his shoes. So in the dark I took off his shoes. Then instead of tucking him in. I pulled off his sweat pants. Only to discover he wore no underwear. I looked at his soft dick and couldn't help myself I leaned in close and kissed it. He didn't move. So I took it in my mouth. He grew some. As I started to suck his cock. I knew I shouldn't I just had to, soon I was sucking his hard cock. He wasn't very big probably just about 5 inches but I did t care I tried to suck every bit of his cock. Kevin just moaned and let me I figured he was just to fucked up to remember. Having him cum in my mouth. I felt so naughty as I slipped back into my bed.

When I woke Kevin was still asleep so I quickly changed. Only now worried that he might remember. I went and hid in the library as not to be confronted if he did. A few hours later as I was in class I started to get dozens of texts. From guys in my dorm.

"You can suck my cock!" And "will you wear a dress for me?" Along with dic pics of several guys. But the most upsetting one was from my roommate who had gone thru my trunk and posted pics of my girlie things. Finally out of class I found that they had posted across all my social media. Where members of my family had even commented.

I called my mother in tears.

"Paula don't cry, you wanted this maybe you weren't ready yet bit you did" she assured me. She convinced me to return to my dorm. I found wverything pulled out but nothing destroyed. It was the middle of the day and the dorm was mostly empty. Just as I started putting things away. One of the guys who lived across the hall burst in and closed the door.

"I talked Kevin out of pressing assault charges" he said his name was John. "He admitted you where really good at sucking cock" he smiled. And approached me. He grabbed my ass I still had not said a word.

"I love me some sissy bitch ass" he told me.

"John, I just" I started he didn't seem to care as his hand slid down the back of my jeans.

"You want to give it to me don't you?" John said. I was so confused and excited. "Get dressed up. Wear something sexy" he told me. Then took my hand and held it against his bulge. I just nodded.

John left me alone. I showered and shaved before I called mo. Again who once again encouraged me to go on a date with John. A date I wasn't even thinking about a date. I got all dressed did my hair and makeup. I was going to let someone see me. Just as I was about done my door opened and John walked in.he was dressed kinda like a bum.

"You look great" he told me, then took my hand. His idea of a date was to take me to the cafeteria. He showed me off to everyone. Lot of them having a good laugh. Others telling me I looked amazing. After he took me back to his room. As soon as the door closed his pants and boxers where off. I was in a whirlwind as he was naked in seconds. His cock fully hard. It was big I thought. Probably close to 7 maybe 8 inches long. He grabbed me and tore my shirt off. Not even trying to undress me he was rough and savage. He payed and bit me as he forcefully removed my clothes. I now stood ashamed and naked before him. He pushed me on to the bed and climbed on top of me he placed his cock in my mouth as he looked down at me. I sucked his cock best I could. He repeatedly gagged me with it. Not caring only pulling back when he thought I might pass out.

"You know your ass is next cunt" he cursed. When I thought I would dir he pulled out. Only to forcefully flip me over. He squirted something on my ass and then shoved his fingers in.

"So tight" he smacked my ass removing his fingers. He forced his cock into my ass. I screamed crying out. As he fucked me hard.

"Yeah, your going to get fucked so much" he moaned. I think I passed out because the next thing I know he was shooting his load on my ass.

"You belong to me now" he told me. I laid there in pain as he left me in his room.

I called my mom.

"Mommy" I sniffled. "It hurt so much. He was so rough" I wimpered

"You're a woman now Paula. Men will use you for their own pleasure. You will learn it is your place to please them" she told me. "It hurt but you liked it didn't you?" My mother said. Then she said something that I had not thought about.

"Baby did he make you cum?" I had, I hadn't even realized it. I got up and cleaned myself up after I hung up with my mother. My clothes where in shreds. Then John returned. He pushed me back on the bed.

"I have a friend who wants to take you for a ride" he told me. And opened the door. I had seen this guy around campus. John left and this new guy. Took out his cock and drove it deep in my ass.

"OH god" I moaned as he fucked me fast and furiously. He finished inside my ass. John returned.

"You're my whore now,, you are going to help me pay for my tuition" he informed me. I told my mom about John but not that he maid me his whore and pimped out my ass and mouth. To dozens of guys including one of his professors. Kevin moved out of my room and it was now a single. I wore only woman's clothes (sluttier the better as far as John was concerned) because they had posted everything to social media my whole family knew I was a sissy. Although my dad didn't like it mom protected me. Considering me her long awaited daughter. I continued with school but didn't learn anything other then how to please a man. Sometimes two at a time. John kept any money he charged people spending money only on buying me sexy clothes. But he graduated debt free.

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driversatellite · 2 years ago

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this love | h.s | part two

synopsis: harry and y/n were in a secret relationship for years and unfortunately it had to come to an end, but a year after the split they find themselves face to face once again, maybe they can mend what was once broken.

harry styles x desi!reader

part two: harry spots a familiar face in the crowd

word count: 2.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist | last part | next part

The Love Band was excited to be playing their first night in LA, they truly loved playing at the Forum, they had a lot of fun there and because they had played there so often they had gotten comfortable there. The fans were great too, the band loved looking around the arena to see the pure happiness and joy in the crowd.

Mitch was looking around the crowd as Harry was singing the chorus to “Daylight” when he spotted a familiar face, he had to do a double take because he really thought his eyes were deceiving him. There was no way she would come and not tell anyone, Mitch glanced over to Harry to see if he had seen his ex-girlfriend in the crowd, but judging by his carefree dancing Mitch concluded that he hadn’t spotted her yet, but he knew Harry would see her, it was impossible not to, she was close to the stage and it was Y/N, he would 100% be able to spot the girl he still loved in the crowd. Mitch just hoped that Harry wouldn’t react when he spots her, because he knew that wouldn’t end well.

It was Sarah who spotted Y/N next, Harry was singing the chorus for Satellite when Sarah spotted her old friend. Sarah was shocked to see Y/N in the crowd, she knew there was a possibility of seeing her when they were in LA, but she wasn’t expecting to see her at a show. Sarah glanced over to Mitch who thankfully was already looking at her and the two shared a look, they had both spotted her. Sarah looked to Harry who was on the other side singing to the fans over there, he clearly hadn’t spotted her yet, but once he did, Sarah knew that the debrief after the show was going to be an interesting one.

Pauli was dancing around, having the time of their life when they saw Y/N, sure Pauli didn’t know her as long as Sarah and Mitch, but they did know her for bit and could pick her out from a crowd, and it was definitely Y/N who was with her friends in the pit. Pauli shot a look to Harry who was having the time of his life dancing along to the music, they were surprised that Harry hadn’t spotted her yet, it was well into the show and Harry loved looking at all the fans, but Pauli didn’t want to be the one to bring it to his attention, cause they didn’t know what would happen once Harry inevitably saw Y/N.

The dance medley had finished and even though everyone was a bit tired, they were still having the time of their lives, Harry on the other hand was feeling more energized than ever, performing was exhilarating for him. The opening chords for “Love of My Life” started and Harry smiled, he loved this song and he loved hearing the crowd sing along to it. He also loved seeing the crowd sing along, he was taking in the audience, a smile on his face, but the smile was quickly wiped away when he saw a familiar face. Harry swore he felt his heart stop, he blinked a few times, he swore he was hallucinating, because there was no way that she was actually here. He tried to not make it obvious, but he couldn’t help but stare at Y/N, she was actually here, he wasn’t going crazy, Y/N was actually in the same room as him, for the first time in almost a year.

Harry shot a quick look to the rest of the band, and from the look on his face they could tell that he had spotted what they had seen earlier. None of them knew what to do that could reassure him, they just hoped Harry held it together for the rest of the song, thankfully the encore was next, so he could have a moment away from all the eyes.

Harry really tried his hardest to not stare at Y/N, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold it together seeing her there, but he couldn’t help it, she looked amazing, she was still stunning. Harry surveyed her, he noticed that she had cut her hair and her make up was done differently than she used to, she was wearing a necklace he didn’t recognize, but she still wore the little pearl studs on her lobes that he had gifted her. He didn’t understand how she could look so familiar but so different, sure she looked fabulous but Harry could tell there was something that was off, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Harry’s staring wasn’t subtle and Quinn and Zoya picked up on it, they excitedly jumped up and down, grinning ear from ear.

Quinn shook Y/N with excitement, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Harry’s looking over here.”

Y/N had been doing her best to not look at Harry so Quinn’s statement made her freeze, “What?”

Quinn pointed to the singer who still had his eyes on them, “Look he’s looking over here.”

Y/N looked up and made direct eye contact with Harry and she felt her heart fall to her stomach, this was what she was hoping would not happen. A million thoughts entered her head, the loudest one saying “I can’t do this, I need to leave”. Y/N looked everywhere but Harry, hoping he would take the hint, but when she looked back, his eyes were still on her.

She swallowed before looking back to Quinn who was clearly trying her hardest to not freak out, “Umm, I don’t think he’s looking at us, maybe he’s trying to read a sign or something.” There were plenty of people with signs, so it was plausible, that’s how she had stayed hidden so long, whenever she sensed Harry coming towards them, she would position herself behind a sign and it had worked every single time, until now.

But Quinn shook her head, “No, he’s definitely looking at us.”

Y/N was so invested in trying to convince Quinn that Harry wasn’t looking at them that she hadn’t noticed Zoya recording everything, Harry spotted the phone and gave a small smile to her and Zoya almost fell to the ground with excitement. Quinn and Zoya excitedly were looking at the video again, while Y/N still had her eyes on Harry. Harry could read Y/N like a book, and from her stance and face he knew she was annoyed, other people were starting to notice Harry staring and it was bringing more attention to her and that was the last thing she wanted. Harry got the message and moved to the other side of the stage and she let out a sigh of relief, deep down she knew that Harry would see her, but she hadn’t expected it to go that way. Thankfully for the both of them, the song was coming to an end and the band was going to take a quick break before finishing the show.

Harry couldn’t wait to leave the stage, he was still in shock, he was also on the verge of breaking down, but he knew he couldn’t, not before the show ended.

As soon as they were all down, he turned to look at the band, “Did you see?”

Mitch nodded, while Sarah said, “Yeah.”

Harry took a sip of his water before he started pacing, “I can’t believe she came, how did I not know she was coming? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Maybe she didn’t want you to know.” Mitch suggested.

Harry let out a scoff before burying his face into his hands, “I can’t do this, I can’t go back up there and pretend everything is alright, not when y/n/n’s right there and I can’t say anything to her.”

“Invite her backstage after.” Sarah suggested.

Harry shook his head, “She’ll never agree to that, you know how she is.”

Sarah shrugged, “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

It was then when Jeff rushed over, he could tell that something was off and wanted to make sure that Harry was okay, “You good H?”

Harry just let out an exasperated sigh before plopping down on a chair and Jeff looked to the rest of the band in confusion, it was Pauli who broke the silence, “Y/N’s here.”

Jeff’s eyes widened, “Shit, really?”

All Harry could do was nod, he didn’t have the energy to think about any of this, he had a show to finish.

“She didn’t text Glenn about coming here.” Jeff murmured.

Harry’s head shot up at that, “She texts Glenn?”

Jeff nodded, “Yeah, you know they’re friends.”

“I know, I just didn’t know that they texted regularly still.” Harry said. He knew that Y/N had occasionally texted his friends, wishing them happy birthday or congratulating them on things, but he was surprised to hear that she still texted Glenn regularly, especially cause she knew how close Harry and Glenn were. But then again Harry knew how close Y/N and Glenn were, Glenn was the reason that the couple had met in the first place and it was unfair of Harry to think that Glenn would stop being friends with her because of their break up.

“I mean they’re really good friends H, she still comes over sometimes and Glenn took her out to dinner for her birthday a couple weeks ago.” Jeff stated.

Sarah glanced at the digital clock that was their timer and saw that their time was running out, they needed to figure out a solution before then, they needed to figure out if Harry would even be able to finish the show, “Okay we can discuss that later, we need to figure out what to do, what do you want to do H, it’s up to you?”

Harry glanced at the timer, he knew he was running out of time and had to make a decision fast, “I’ll finish the show, I can’t not finish the show. And after the show I’ll ask her to come backstage to talk.”

Jeff looked to his best friend apprehensively, “Are you sure you want to do that tonight? You don’t want to wait?”

Harry nodded, “If I don’t do it tonight, I won’t do it anytime soon, I need to do this tonight.”

The band and Jeff shared a look, they weren’t sure that either party were ready to have this conversation, but it wasn’t their decision to make.

“Whatever you decide, we’ll support you H.” Mitch said, patting his friend on the back.

“Thanks guys,” Harry smiled, and then looked to Jeff, “Get her a pass that will be ready for right after the show and right after I get off stage I’ll text her, hopefully she won’t leave before then.”

Jeff nodded, “I’ll get the pass ready and I can try and stall the doors opening to buy you a little time, it won’t be a lot, but just to delay them leaving for a few minutes.”

“Okay, well, let’s finish the show strong.” Harry said and the band nodded and sent encouraging looks to him, they knew this was hard for him, but he was being a trooper.

Right as Harry got back on stage Y/N could tell he was off, he was rigid and his jaw was tense, this was exactly what she was worried about. She didn’t want to be the reason that the people who came to the show got a sour Harry. Nonetheless she tried her best to ignore that and just enjoy the last few songs, the opening chords of “Sign of the Times” had started and Y/N could feel the tears coming. The song had always been one of her favorites and it never failed to make her cry, especially when Harry sang it live. She willed herself to keep the tears at bay, she had already sobbed to “Matilda” earlier and now that she knew that Harry knew that she was here, she was even more on edge, anything would send her spiraling. But as soon as he got to the bridge all her willpower was gone and the tears rushed down her face, she was truly a mess. Zoya wrapped her arm around her friend and pulled her close, she knew that the song did bring out the ugly cry in people, but she didn’t expect Y/N to be this affected.

Harry was also teary eyed as he sang, there were so many different emotions hitting him all at the same time, he knew it would be a bad idea to look at Y/N, but he couldn’t help himself, he snuck a glance to where he knew she was standing and saw her sobbing into her friend’s shoulder. He didn’t expect her tears to hurt him as much as they did, he didn’t know what specifically had turned her into a sobbing mess, because before the encore all she looked was agitated. He knew that the song did make her cry, every time he sang it she would shed tears, but never this much. He was starting to backtrack, maybe he wasn’t ready to speak to her, but then he looked at her again, she had stopped sobbing, but there were still some tears falling down her face and she was trying to wipe the tears off, and Harry knew all he wanted to do in that moment was be the one who was wiping her tears away.

With the motivation to talk to Y/N, Harry finished off the set strong, once Kiwi ended he zoomed off the stage and to backstage where he knew Jeff would be waiting for him with his phone and true that Jeff was stood with Harry’s phone and a backstage pass in hand. Harry grabbed his phone and wrote a short text to her.

h: hi, come and meet me backstage please, we need to talk

---

#Harry Styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x desi reader #hs #hslot #hslot la #harry x reader #harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #exes to lovers #this love series

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 1 year ago

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If You Got It, Haunt It

Curtis and Honey Halloween Special

Summary- 2.6k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. You and Curtis are out for a night at Paulie's playing a game of pool with Claude and Grey. It all starts with one little Halloween pun and some purple nurples.

Warnings- Smut. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Happy Halloween everyone! My personal favorite holiday and I had to drop something to celebrate. I hope everyone finds something good today among all the mayhem our world has going on. Thank you all for all the comments, likes and shares you give this series. The puns were from a reel I saw on facebook and if I ever come across it here, I will be sure to link it because it was so silly and cute.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

The pool balls clacked across the bars table while you stood nearby watching Curtis and Grey debate on where the balls would go. Claude stood at the other end, picking out pool cues for you and her.

Money sat on the edge, waiting for the future winner to lay claim. The bar was festively decorated all around, the usual music that Paulie played was now tuned in with some more halloween themed songs. You were waiting for Monster Mash to start playing, already having told Paulie you were gonna need a tray of Purple Nurple shots to be delivered per your and Claude’s request. A little homage to Dean Winchester as well as shooting some purple colored shots. Tis the season after all.

Curtis wandered over after it was all decided who was playing what ball, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close. You sunk into his touch, cuddling in against him. “Mh mh MH.” You started, looking up at him. “I didn’t know my favorite Halloween treat came in life size.”

“Honey, I will be the monster you can mash.” Curtis immediately responded, a hand wandering to cup your ass, arching your hip to press against his while you hid your giggle in his chest. “You and Grey are stripes.” He rumbled, grumpy in the moment that Claude insisted on switching up the usual teams. “You over here looking all ‘come fuck me Curtis’ Pretty Girl is giving me some thoughts.” His nips on your mouth, tasting of his whiskey shots from earlier making you grin at the sensation, the warmth of his chest seeping through his hoodie and curling through you. You let your hands slide into the pouch at the front of his shirt, tugging Curtis in closer to you till he was wrapped all around you. “Babe, I must be a witch.” You let your nose rub against his before pulling back enough to see his expression, your grin wider with the upcoming joke you had for him.

“Really? Why’s that, 'cause you put a spell on me?” Curtis played along, his grumpy expression from earlier still a trace on his features, but he was starting to lighten up a bit more while flirting with you.

“I actually can raise your broomstick without even touching it.” You informed him, arching enough to press a kiss to his bristled cheek while he gave a huff of a laugh, you snorting in a giggle while he hugged you against him.

“Fuck.” He grunted, talking only loud enough for you to hear so his mouth was close to your ear, the bristles of his cheek a welcome sensation as they brushed against your jawline. “You really do have that kind of magic woman.”

Claude shouted over the table, making you and Curtis glance her way. “Curtis, remember you're on opposite teams. You can’t be over there flirting with the enemy.” She held up his pool cue. “And it’s your turn.”

“Then you’re in for some fucking bad luck Claude, 'cause I have no will power against my girl.” Curtis let his hand run along the curve of your ass one more time before pulling away and taking the cue from her, looking around the table for the best shot while Grey appeared behind Claude, catching her in his arms and making her yelp in surprise, the two of them fooling around with one another while Curtis aimed for a shot.

You admired Curtis, so reminiscent of the first time you two played pool when bumping into each other. It was even the same table, the two of you talking and getting to know each other while Curtis taught you how to play. That moment felt like a lifetime ago now, so much having happened between you and Curtis to get to this carefree moment shared with friends. The sound of Claude whooping in victory while Grey groaned had you breaking from your thoughts, giving a shrug of your shoulder to the group as if you weren’t at all worried while you approached the table and prepared to take your turn.

“Lucky shot Everett, now step aside.” Your hand pushed playfully against the wall of muscle that made up his chest, never really standing a chance at actually moving Curtis back a step but he purposely stumbled back like you did, giving you space to play.

“Yes Pretty Girl.” He muttered, making Claude shoot him a ‘don’t you dare look’ and he smirked in response. You set yourself closer to the table, leaning into the move with a sharp hit of the follow through and as soon as your shot was done, you felt Curtis’s hands fall to your waist and while you eased up, you were able to lean into his chest, watching the balls scatter once more, not making any shots but helping line up some for Grey to take when his chance came. “Good shot Pretty Girl.” He watched over your shoulder calculating which ones Claude should take.

“I'm happy with it.” You hummed out. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to be getting any at that time.”

They watched Claude and Grey play, the two of them doing their own game of flirting. You and Curtis stayed off to the side, losing interest in the game at this point.

“Pretty Girl, we should be werewolves for Halloween.”

“Oh really?” You turned in his hold to face him, the two of you wandering further away from the pool table, the halloween music thumping louder and although you knew Curtis wasn’t much for dancing unless the two of you were at the house, you started swaying to the music playing. “Why is that?”

His hands were flowing over your curves though, tracing you like he couldn't get enough of how you felt moving in his arms. “I bet we would have a howling good time together.”

You busted into laughter at this one, making him laugh too. Purple People Eater started playing over the speakers and you tilted your head back to listen to the song. “Paulie! Purple Nurples!” You shouted out. Claude danced over to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you into her arms, the two of you bouncing in a childish dance.

“Yeah, I got them!” He slid a tray across the counter towards Grey, who gathered up the bright purple shots to bring to the table you all had laid claim to earlier. Curtis took one and sniffed it, his nose wrinkling at the smell.

“Damn that smells sweet.” He handed you yours while waiting for the go ahead to take it.

“The grape jello, just be quick with it!” You tilted your head back and let it slide down your throat, Curtis doing the same. You reached over for two more, intent on finishing the tray before the song ended. “Hey Curtis, is it Halloween yet?”

He took the shot, not as enthusiastic as you, but he was willing to stomach the shot once more for you. “Just a couple more days, Pretty Girl and then you can take out those fangs again.” His blue eyes raked over you suggestively, his gaze dark and wanting with his suggestion.

“Good, Cause you can carve my pumpkins.” You grabbed his hands to lay them on your curvy ass cheeks, arching into his grasp as he squeezed his hands on you and gave a moan that bordered on getting turned on and exasperated at your last lame joke. A swift little swat to your ass made you wriggle against his hold all that much more.

“How long have you been saving that one Pretty Girl?”

“Since last week when I saw a tik tok video.” You admitted, tugging on his hoodie. The addition of the purple nurples made you warm and tingly all over in addition to the way you two had been throwing the suggestive touches and words all night. You must have been giving him a look cause the corner of his mouth lifted smirking, his mouth dropping to flush kisses along your jawline to your ear. “Backseat?”

“You wanna?”

“Pretty Girl…” His mouth pressed against the pulse point just behind your ear, eliciting a rushed breath as all those tingles and warmth blossomed in you, wanting, craving, needing more. “Always wanna.” His hand took yours, jerking his thumb over his shoulder when he turned to Grey and Claude in their own little world on the other side of the table, the pool game half played. “We’re stepping out for some air, meet back here in a bit?”

Grey nodded, raising his hand in a thumbs up. “See you guys in a bit.”

Claude, not quite caught up, raised a questioning brow in your direction but then when it clicked she mimicked Grey with a thumbs up. “Have fun!”

Before you could respond, Curtis had you weaving across the bar. The two of you rushing into the cool October night. Maybe the purple nurples were giving you some tipsy confidence but you pushed him against the bar's brick wall, his back thudding and he looked down at you in surprise for half a second before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you up enough to kiss you hungrily.

He tasted wild, a mix of alcohol and him, you ran your hands down his chest and grasped his belt to work the clasp off enough to push your hands into his jeans to rub at his cock through his boxers. Thick and throbbing already, he hissed against your lips while tilting his head back with a groan, his hold against the back of your neck falling to your waist, turning bruising in his lust. “Fuck Pretty Girl, don’t ever stop.”

“Don’t plan on it Curtis.” You cupped your palm around his length, squeezing just enough to bring him pleasure but not as far as you knew he would want it. Teasing him was fun and you were enjoying the power he gave you over him. But it didn’t last long as he pushed you back enough to continue back to the car, digging for your car keys out of his back pocket since he drove you two here tonight.

“Curtis… do you wanna play zombies?” You asked as you wrenched open the back door, falling back into the seat to pull yourself back, Curtis following inside to somehow get the door shut and hover over you.

“What?!” He asked distractedly as you worked your shirt off and he was as well. But he managed to catch up and shook his head. “No? Yes? Why?”

You giggled a bit, biting your lip as you snapped open the button of his jeans while looking up at him. “If you do then I will just lay here while you eat me.”

“Oh god Honey.” He laughed hard, his shoulders shaking and his forehead coming to lean against yours, looking in your eyes. “That one was my favorite tonight.” His mouth pressed to yours and you both started grinding against one another. Curtis eventually dragged his mouth from yours so you could catch your breath while following the column of your neck to your collarbone, sucking a nice little mark there while you arched under him, offering yourself to him. He worked your pants open, starting to drag them off while continuing down your body. This time leaving little bite marks after your zombie comment.

“Just like that.” You moaned while running your hands over his scalp and holding him to your chest after he tugged your bra up enough for your breasts to be free, your sensitive nipples aching pleasurably under his tongue, gasping happily when he dragged one into his mouth and pulled, making your legs wrap around his waist. “Curtis…” You arched again, your body feline rubbing against his now that you were practically bare under him, short of your pants hanging off one leg and your bra pushed up to be no longer practical on your chest. His hand braced against your back and he growled out. “Hold on Pretty Girl.”

You grabbed onto his shoulders while he maneuvered you both, him in a seated position in the middle of the back seat and you straddling his lap, mouths still chasing after each other. Curtis worked his cock out from his boxers, running his hand up and down his length while you prepared to wriggle off his lap so you could go down on him.

“Wat Honey…” He stopped you and tapped his hand against your ass. “Get up on your knees Pretty Girl.” You obliged, raising up and he ran a finger along the seam of your panties covering your cunt, sliding the slick fabric aside. “Did you know the human skeleton has 206 bones, Honey?”

You watched him mesmerized, his hand sliding up and down slowly on his impressive cock, whimpering with want and need as you felt yourself dripping on his fingers slipping between your folds. “I did… but I could take another.” You squeaked as he teased your clit, ready to start practically begging when he let the tip feed into your entrance.

“Good cause I plan on giving you another.” Curtis pressed you down onto him. You meant to laugh at this one, but instead it came out as a pleasured gasp, pressing your hands against his chest and grinding on him while adjusting to feeling him so deep inside.

“Shit…” You hissed out.

“Take your time, Pretty Girl.” He watched you with half hooded eyes, one hand resting against your waist and the other sliding up and down your folded thigh. “Fuck you are so beautiful just like this.” He praised, keeping still till you told him you were ready. But the way you were rubbing your clit against him and squeezing him, he just hoped you would be ready soon.

“Mmhh so deep.” You let yourself raise up and back down, finally feeling confident in it. “Okay, I'm ready.”

Letting Curtis go, he helped you ride him with constant praises, his hold helping you move up and down, rotating your hips which always felt so good your eyes would roll back, feeling every inch of Curtis pressed in you, full of him till you couldn't take anymore you were sure.

You both sped up, Curtis snapping himself into you while you slammed yourself harder down, once in a while one of you would seek out each others mouths for messy grunting kisses but it all got to be to much and Curtis hugged around you to bury his face into your chest with a curse, both of you rushing for orgasm and it was a slamming pleasure that sucked the air out of your lungs.

It wasn't till you collapsed against him that Curtis eased the two of you back, lounging in the back seat wrapped around each other comfortably. Your head laid on his chest and at some point Curtis did cover your back with one of your shirts to keep the outside chill slowly seeping into the car from making you cold. Your fingers traced his chest and went to fiddle with the chain. “How long have we been out here you think?”

Curtis hummed lazily as if he couldn’t be bothered to consider that they were in your backseat in a parking lot. “No clue, you ready to go back inside?”

“No, not really, I’m pretty comfy.” You said and the conversation went quiet for a moment.

“Honey, I got one more for you.” Curtis broke the silence and you didn't bother to lift your head, also to comfy in the moment to bother.

“Give it to me Curtis.”

“I think I already did.” You glanced up to see the smirk of pride. “Okay, will you let a demigorgon in our bedroom?”

“No.” You shifted in against him, sighing out a bit happily. “Why would I?”

“Awww come on Honey, we have done stranger things.” Curtis dropped his punch line. Both of you were silent for half a second till you both broke into laughter.

#life is short so make it sweet #curtis everett and honey #curtis everett and plus!sized reader #curtis everett x plus!sized reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett and you #curtis everett and reader #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett fanfiction #curtis everett au #chris evans characters #amber writes #sweater writes #halloween 2023 #halloween special #spooky time

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aetherdoesthings · 11 months ago

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let's be friends - nico robin x gn!reader

forethoughts: i wrote this late at night so no proofreading other than one quick read through so apologies for any grammar mistakes! i just watched eneis lobby and sobbed my heart out prior to writing this. i want to give robin a hug so bad and be friends with her. anyways i hope you enjoy ^^

warnings: MAJOR ENEIS LOBBY AND WATER SEVEN SPOILERS!!! you have been warned.

You were the newest member of the Straw Hat Pirates. Temporary, maybe, but still you had allied with their captain and joined their ranks. You were minding your own business in Water Seven, doing some shopping for food and picking up new parts to repair your own ship that had taken a beating. But when the news about Iceberg’s attempted assassination got out and everyone got in a frenzy, was your attention set on the Straw Hat Pirates. You weren’t a fan of the World Government, nor pirates; rather a wanderer that set out on sea to accomplish your own goal: finding some friends. You weren’t well received as a child; many called you estranged and unfortunate. So you had set out on the sea to prove those people wrong. After years of sailing to different islands across the Grand Line, you had made it to Water Seven somehow still alive, but still alone.

That’s when you met the Straw Hat Pirates. Well, somewhat. You had decided to sneak into the train station the night after Iceberg’s attempted assassination, wanting to go away despite Aqua Laguna. But of course, with your incredible luck, you managed to miss the train. You paced around the station, thinking about your next course of plans when footsteps approached. A girl with tangerine hair and the renowned Paulie from the Dock One foremen charged into the station, demanding for answers. After a heated conversation and a close call, it eventually led to a mutual agreement between you and the orange hair girl. You’d help them get back one of their crew members, Nico Robin, and they would give you the materials to go the nearest island once the whole mess was over. Sure, you weren’t that skilled of a fighter; you only had a devil fruit power that essentially made you faster than the speed of light, but it was valuable enough for the girl to shake your hand and bring you aboard on their rescue mission.

Now you stood feets away from the dark haired woman herself, who found a spot on a cliff next to the coast, basking in the sun as it started to retire. You stood there idly, a basket in your hand. You tried not to make a noise so as to not disturb the poor woman’s needed peace, but this was Nico Robin you were facing. Nothing gets past her.

“Ah, Y/N, it’s you. What are you doing here?” Robin turned around, a faint smile on her face. Her shoulders relaxed at the sight of your face, as she turned her body to properly face you.

You blinked twice, your heart pounding as you shook your head, trying to avoid eye contact with the beauty in front of you. The sunlight accentuated her features, making blood rise to your cheeks as your skin got evidently red. You clutched onto the basket Sanji had given you earlier, trying to give the notion that your grip was causing you to overheat, even though you knew that made zero sense.

You nodded your head, warily taking a step towards the woman, setting the basket down by her side. “You missed dinner. Sanji, I think his name was, told me to give you this since I’m going anyway.”

“You’re leaving? Already?” Robin mused, looking inside the basket. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll be sure to apologize to Sanji when I see him.”

“Yeah. Y-You’re back safe with your crew, and Nami has already paid for my ship. I don’t have any more business with you guys.”

“I see.” Robin takes a plate of food out from the basket and a piece of cutlery, as she began eating. “Would you stay with me, Y/N? I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to you since… everything.”

“Huh? Oh. Uh, sure.” You hesitantly took a seat next to the woman, unsure whether to cross your legs or put them out. That left you with one leg crossed under a stretched out leg.

“I wanted to ask, Y/N, did you only agree to help my friends rescue me because of the deal they gave you? Or was there something else that prompted you to go to Eneis Lobby?” Robin asked out of the blue, her serene and elegant voice floating into your ear.

You stared at the waves calmly rocking back and forth, as if Aqua Laguna never happened. “It was half of the reason I decided to join.”

“Oh? If you do not mind, would you tell me the other reason you decided to go to Eneis Lobby?”

You shrugged, as your fingers dug into the soil, picking at the grass. “Well, I never really had any friends growing up. They called me weird and estranged, and always picked on me. But after I ate that devil fruit, they called me a monster and excluded me from everything. So I didn’t have any friends growing up. Now that I’m older, I want to sail across the seas to find friends or people I can call friends. And when I met you guys… or at least the six of ‘em, I guess I was moved. I’ve never heard or seen anyone do such bold things for a friend. You’re really lucky, you know? You have a group of people that prioritizes your wellbeing. I wish I had someone who’d do that for me too… but I know it’s not gonna happen to me. I move too fast for the world. No one can catch up to me.”

You couldn’t see her face, your eyes too busy counting each blade of grass, but you could feel that faint smile she had that brought warmth to you, eyes filled with understanding and not judgment.

“What makes you so certain you will not have anyone who will prioritize your wellbeing over theirs?” Robin gently asked.

Your fingers stopped moving, your eyes shifting towards the woman. You were met with a kind and warm smile, as she looked at you with confidence and encouragement. “I appreciate your help today, everything you did for my friends. For me. Even if it was just an agreement, I truly appreciate your help. You sound quite like someone I know.” Robin looked away, seemingly reminiscing upon a memory. “Someone I would love to be friends with.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Friends?”

“Yes. Friends.” Robin turned her head to look at you, as she handed you a piece of bread Sanji had packed. “I don’t understand your devil fruit power, but I do understand running that fast for a long duration must be draining.”

Despite the large meal you had eaten and fought over with Luffy, you gladly took the bread, shoving it down your throat without struggle nor hesitation. You immediately looked down as blush filled your cheeks. “S-Sorry. And thank you for the food.”

“Don’t be.” Robin softly chuckled, looking at you with an amused look. “You interest me, Y/N.”

“I do?” You asked.

“I do. Say, where do you plan on going?”

“Um, I don’t know. I suppose wherever my log pose says I should go.”

“I see.” Robin looked at the setting sun, a small smile on her face as she held onto the other piece of the bread, deep in thought. “May I propose something, Y/N?” “Sure, go ahead.” You answered, confusion evident in your voice.

“Sail with us. Or stay with us until we manage to reach the next island or wherever we go. Go on one trip with us to one island.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

Robin nodded her head. “That’s all. Join us on our captain’s next adventure. I’m certain Luffy will love to have you on his crew. I will love your company; I’m certain everyone else will.”

“There’s nothing in it for me?”

“Would you rather sail alone, searching island after island, year after year?”

You bit your lower lip, your eyes falling to each blade of grass. “Why are you offering this to me?”

Robin smiled. “Because I would love to be friends with you. Or at least make an attempt to be as close as friends, if not comrades. You sound like an amazing person with quite the unique devil fruit power; I’m very interested in you and your abilities. One trip to one island, and you may leave or do whatever you wish after. Does that sound good to you?”

You tilted your head, staring at the waves that reflected the sun’s radiant light. You stayed like that for a while, remaining silent even after Robin finished her meal, finally breaking your silence when she closed the basket lid. “You’d love to be friends with me?”

Robin looked at you with a smile on her face. “Certainly.”

You let out a scoff, shaking your head as a low chuckle exited your mouth. “Really?”

“Really.”

You sucked your teeth. Despite being the fastest person alive, your brain still took its sweet time processing each word. “And if I said I would love to be friends with you too?”

“I would be delighted to hear that, Y/N.”

You finally smiled at her, returning that warm and kind smile she had given you. “Then let’s be friends.”

Robin let out a sigh of relief, as if she would’ve driven a harder bargain if you had turned down her deal. “Let’s be friends, Y/N.”

The two of you sat there admiring the sunset, silence filling the environment around you. It wasn’t awkward nor deafening, but a peaceful and serene one. A smile was plastered on your face, your inner child shining through as you had completed the one goal you had ever wanted since you were a child.

To have a friend.

#nico robin x reader #nico robin #one piece #fluff #ugh i love her #wanna be her friend irl #aetherwrites

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harrisongslimited · 8 months ago

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George Chapter of the Day #8

I Saw Her Standing There

Trigger Warnings: adult situations, swearing, smoking, sexual references

Chapter 8

"So Georgie," John began, a sly look on his face. "You seem a tot distracted. What's up with you?"

Paul egged John on with hand gestures from a safe distance. They were going to make him say it...that he was batty over Joie. Knowing George as they did, they didn't need a PhD in psychology to see it all over his face. He never was any good at hiding his feelings.

George stared at John, grinned and walked around him, taking his guitar with him.

"C'mon. Give it up. She's got your gut in a twist, doesn't she?"

"I'll make sure to send you a wedding invitation, you soft twit."

"Fine. Call me names. But you're in love with Joie. Say it..."

"Bugger off you bloody arsehole," George shot back at him with a subtle grin. "It's none of your business."

"Well then," John replied smartly. "Our old lothario, Paul, will begin to charm and woo her, if it's all the same to you..." John continued to tease him.

George turned and looked between John and Paul, his expression unreadable. "Do whatever you bloody well please."

He wasn't ready to tell anyone anything. He was too unsure of himself. The Hamburg girls, the groupies, were easy pickings in a way. The Hamburg ladies were experienced in being girlfriends and lovers and for the most part, usually hunted him down. Joie Armagh was an entirely different species. Wooing in Hamburg was sharing a cig, a beer and after quick introductions, a shag in a not all that private or secluded place. All of them had walked in on each other in the throes of shagging and it didn't phase anyone, including the girl.

Joie required some finesse. She required time; she deserved flowers, hand holding, soft kisses on her lovely, sweet neck, dinners in restaurants that had soft lighting, roses in vases on the tables and crisp, white tablecloths. George understood it, but felt...out of his league. It was a problem he would have to get over if he ever wanted her naked body pressed against his...and having her love him was worth everything he had.

John and Paul realized George was very serious about Joie and immediately backed off...almost.

"Hey, if you manage to get her to say yes to a date, can I come with you like you used to do with me and Cyn when you were a skinny tadpole?"

George smiled and laughed. "Over my cold, dead body."

"You know George, she's a classy bird. Pretty too," Paul gave him a slap on the back. "You better stay on your toes. Some posh bloke could come along and sweep her off her feet."

George gave him a genuine smile. "Like i said, over my cold, dead body, Paulie."

..........

Joie drove with Freda on her first days at NEMS, still too unsure of driving in London. It reminded her of the Indianapolis 500, everyone going bat shit crazy and weaving and bolting through rows of cars. She was going to be in England for the next 6 months and she was going to make the most of it. She would tame the chaos of the roadways. Joie just needed a plan.

And as promised, a mini cooper was given to her as a company car. Freda took her to the parking lot to show her the baby blue car she was allowed to use while she worked for NEMS. When Paul showed up at the office that morning, he promised to give her some driving lessons, but Joie knew that George would be the one who would take the time. Joie had come to realize that Paul had his focus on his own life and his life with Jane. There was no room for her and that was ok.

George was a whole different situation. It was his eyes that tantalized her first. Deep, dark, mysterious, yet a window to his heart. Joie knew he was a softie underneath that protective cover of a funny, tough kid from the docks. Seeing him with his mum and dad cleared that right up. It was strange that she seemed to shiver whenever he was close to her. Her skin became electrified somehow, hypersensitive to the nearness of his body, the sound of his voice, even the aftershave he wore. When they were in the same room, she knew exactly where he was at all times. The feelings confused her. They were new feelings right out of the box and she was neither sure of what they meant nor what she was supposed to do about them.

Brian, on the other hand, treated her curtly. He barked orders and Freda told her it was just his way because he was under so much pressure. But Joie got the distinct impression that Brian didn't want her there for whatever reason. She was going to win him over with her dedication and discretion. But for now, she stuck close to Freda to learn her job and got to know the other girls in the office. Alice was Brian's assistant and was friendly and helpful. The only other person in the office was a constant visitor named Derek, who served as a part time press officer. Joie was surprised they operated with such a small staff considering the enormity of the operation. But she was there to do a job...and do it she would.

All 4 Beatles dropped in frequently. George came in and asked Joie to come with him on an errand, and he was going to let her drive. She had been avoiding driving, and broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of it. George reached out to hold her elbow and began whispering in her ear. She went weak in the knees, her body shivering, the flight of hundreds of butterflies crossing her lower gut. Joie tried to pull herself together; the only thing she could do was step away from him, George supposing he was invading her personal space and moving to the side.

"Would you mind coming with me this afternoon on an errand?" he asked softly.

"Would love to," was Joie's reply as a bright smile caused her eyes to shine.

"We're off, Brian," George announced. "We won't be back." Brian just nodded silently as George took Joie's hand and led her out of the office. They both waved to Freda.

"Nice...," Freda thought to herself.

..........

"Ok," he said as she got behind the wheel. "It's just like driving anywhere. There's people and traffic and you just need to get used to driving on the other side of the road that you are used to."

Joie looked at him skeptically, started the car and stopped. "I can't George. I just can't. What if we get into an accident?"

" Hm...wear your seat belt. You'll be fine. I'm right here," he looked into her frightened eyes. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere, Joie. I'll be right beside you."

It took every ounce of Joie's strength not to throw her arms around him and just hold on. Instead, she looked in every direction and eased the car out into traffic.

"Maybe I should know where we're going?"

"Esher," he announced. "I bought a house."

.........

Within an hour, Joie safely drove all the way to Esher from London. George was a patient teacher and calmly helped her navigate the roads.

"Thank you for your coaching and patience," Joie remarked, reaching out and laying her hand on his arm.

When they discussed it later, neither one knew exactly what happened. It was just like heat lightening...comes out of nowhere to light the sky.

.........

Joie was amazed at how lovely the property was. The ranch house was even nicer. It was cozy and open. But completely empty.

"It's beautiful George," Joie told him as he took her on a tour of the house. "you picked a wonderful house."

"it needs furniture and that's where you come in. The decorator is coming and I need a second opinion."

Joie thought this was a huge undertaking. "But George, I hardly know your style or what you want...."

"We'll do it together. I don't know what I want either. I want comfortable. I want a place to crash. I want to be able to entertain if I ever get the chance."

There wasn't a pot or pan or plate or chair in the entire house. And the house was large, with a coach house and an in ground pool in the back. It was going to take thousands to decorate this house and Joie felt out of her element. Her home back in California was a small apartment with 3 bedrooms.

"Are you sure you want me to help you with this? I'm a complete novice. I decorated our apartment from K-mart. Remember K-mart?"

George nodded and smiled "Give it an American flair. I liked the California open look."

"Ok...whatever you want."

"And remember the decorator will do most of the work. When I'm gone on tour, I want you to be here to coordinate once we pick out everything we need."

Joie nodded at him again and went for tour around the house a second time, taking notes and asking George questions.

As George surveyed the garden, Joie studied the empty kitchen. This was a huge undertaking. But it was her job to help him. And if George wanted her to help decorate his new house, that's what she would do.

..........

The interior decorator showed up shortly after their arrival and George remained outside in the garden. Joie negotiated with the decorator concerning everything from dishes, to a bed to dining room furniture. They came up with a great plan.

George finally appeared after overhearing Joie and decorator's conversation and liking what they discussed. "The coach house. I want it with a real California flair. Southwestern. It will go nicely with the garden I'm going to plan."

Joie and James, the decorator, nodded enthusiastically. Joie was writing furiously in a notebook she fortunately remembered to bring and laughed to herself. This is what it meant to work for a Beatle.

..........

Joie did wonder why George asked her to help coordinate the decorating and not Freda or Alice. They knew him way better than she did. Joie needed the cavalry and knew just who to call. While George surveyed his potential garden, Joie called Cyn.

"Cyn, I need your help," Joie said into the phone. "George wants me to decorate his new house and I need your input. You know him better than I do and your house is so beautiful. Can you meet me and the decorator on Wednesday?"

"Sure, of course," Cyn agreed. "I'm glad he finally bought a house. It's about time he settled down. Now all we need is to find him a steady girlfriend."

"Well, I'm just worried about the house. I want it done by the time they come back from tour. Then there's the opening for the movie and they will be off again. There's not a whole lot of time."

"Did he use James Terrier, the decorator?" Cyn asked. "George had called to see who we used and I gave him his name."

"Yes," Joie answered. "And he's wonderful. I just need another pair of eyes to help me."

"I'll bring Julian and lunch. See you Wednesday."

..........

The office was quiet on Wednesday as Brian had left with the boys on their European tour.

"Now we can breathe," Freda said to Joie as they leaned back in their chairs and lit cigarettes. "How's the house coming?"

"Delivering furniture this afternoon. I have to drive out by noon."

"How's the driving going?"

"Well, I learned from George, so all I have to do is lower my speed and I'm ok."

Freda laughed and nodded knowingly.

..........

"Let's eat first and get a plan," Cyn suggested, pouring the wine in 2 beautiful wine glasses.

While they ate and chatted, Julian explored the empty house, but didn't wander too far. There was really nothing he could get into, but like Cynthia said, somehow 2 year olds can always find trouble.

"Everything is coming today, Cyn. Everything. I've got 3 days to get this place in order before George comes home."

Cyn sipped her wine. "Any thoughts why George asked you to help?"

"None. Other than I figure that's what I was hired for. To run errands, help organize...that sort of thing."

"Um..."Cyn responded. "Maybe. I know George pretty well and it seems like he's thinking about something."

"Maybe he's in a relationship and wants to get his house settled so he has a nice place to bring someone home."

In her mind, Joie went back to the afternoon they first surveyed the house....his arms around her, his open mouth, crushed against hers, their tongues searching, hungry between her lips. There was a sigh of pleasure that she felt, sending an electric bolt right through to her groin.

His gentle hands cupping her face, sighing with pleasure to slightly deepen their kiss and draw their bodies together. It was like she was dying and he saved her. Reminded her she was a desirable woman. But afterwards, he escaped out into the garden.

"Thank you for the great job you're doing," George struggled to say, not looking at her.

"No problem," Joie replied and headed back into the house. Guess a passionate kiss is how the British say thanks.

"He's not seeing anyone steadily right now," Cyn brought her back to reality.

"Oh, well...maybe it's just in his plan. He likes plans."

Cyn laughed. "Yes, he does."

They had just about finished their lunch when a huge truck pulled up and James Terrier got out of the passenger's side. 'Afternoon ladies," he greeted. "We've got some work to do here."

Joie must have looked overwhelmed.

"But not to worry. This place will be showroom ready in no time."

With Cynthia's help, who called in Maureen, the house in Esher began to take shape. The bedroom was done...the living room and dining room. The kitchen had dishes and a tea pot. There were fresh, fluffy towels and pictures for the walls.

It was functional, yet available for George to add his own touches. The phone service had been set up already, but they needed to plug in the television set. There were other electronics George had purchased, and Joie decided that they needed someone with experience to set it all up. She made a mental note to ask George when she talked to him.

They all tackled the coach house and make it an extension of the garden, with bright colors, bright furniture and a flower motif. Julian had fun organizing the knick-knacks, the plants, anything he could get his hands on. Cyn, Mo and Joie sipped on cool white wine as they worked and talked.

By the end of the day, Julian was asleep on George's new bed, surrounded by the kitchen chairs so he wouldn't roll off and Cyn, Mo and Joie shared another bottle of wine.

By the time the women left, Joie was as exhausted as she's ever been. She curled up on the sofa just to relax for a minute and fell into a deep sleep.

..........

"Joie?" It was Freda. The phone woke her up.

"Hi Freda," Joie answered, taking a minute to realize where she was and what she had done.

"You are at George's? Brian is asking for you."

"Yes....we got so much done yesterday. It's looking like a real house. It will be ready for him by the time he gets home tomorrow," she said. "At least livable."

"That's great. I'm sure George will be thrilled," Freda began, then lowered her voice. "But Brian thought you'd be in the office this morning. He's thundering around here like there's no tomorrow."

"Oh," Joie said, surprised. "Does he want to talk to me? He didn't expect me to get George's house done in one day, did he?"

Freda kept her voice low. "I guess so. But he left for a meeting. I'll tell him to call you at George's."

"I'll be here the rest of the day today and then be in the office tomorrow. There are more deliveries today that I need to be here for."

"Ok," Freda said. "I'll tell him. But you know he can be a bear sometimes...."

Joie nodded. "I'm learning, Freda."

And she hung up.

Although she didn't know exactly what George expected to find in the kitchen, she went to the market and stocked up on the essentials. She was so busy, she really hadn't taken a moment to realize what she was doing. She was decorating George Harrison' house. Jordan was going to explode.

When she got back to the house, she met a florist at the front gate.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Are you Joie Armagh?"

She nodded.

The florist handed her a box. "This is for you."

"Me?" Joie asked again. "Me? There must be a mistake."

"Nope."

And he walked away.

She entered the house and put her purse and bags down. Then she carefully removed the ribbon and opened the box. It was dozens of flowers cradled in purple heather. The card simply said, "Thanks, George."

She was speechless. She'd never received flowers from anyone. But then she figured he wanted them for the house. She was just the receiver. But they were addressed to her with a thank you card. Joie didn't know what to think. She shrugged her shoulders and went about finding something to serve as a vase and arranged the flowers so he would see them on the coffee table when he came home.

"Hello?" It was Cyn on the phone. "I got the number from Freda. How's it going over there?"

"Hi Cyn," Joie greeted, happy to hear her voice. "How's Julian?"

"Good. He's at my mum's and I've got some free time. Need some help?"

"I'd love the company if you have time. I have to get back to town tonight so I can get into the office tomorrow."

"I'll be over in 30."

The second Joie hung up the phone it rang again. She thought it would be Cyn again.

"Hi Cyn..." she greeted with a giggle.

There was a slight delay as she heard, "It's George."

"Oh, hi," Joie answered easily. "Cyn just called and I thought it was her calling back. She and Maureen helped me yesterday with organizing your new house."

George laughed. "How does it look?"

Joie surveyed her handiwork. "You will like it. It's functional so you can add your own touches, but it's looking good. I went grocery shopping yesterday and your larder is full."

"Thanks, Joie. Cyn said you have good taste and the three of you got a lot done."

"You talked to her?"

"When John called her."

"We had a good time too---she and Maureen were a great help," Joie answered. "And there were some flowers that came. I put them in a vase on the coffee table."

"I have a coffee table?" was all he asked.

"You do now," Joie laughed. "The flowers are beautiful. Thank you."

"Thank you for your help.

"You are very welcome. It's been fun."

#the beatles #beatles #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #beatlemania #george chapter of the day #beatles fan fic #fanfiction #writer #writer on tumblr

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crazycatgirl420 · 1 year ago

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First Lines

I'm not sure if this is the first line of the whole fic or the first line of the part I'm currently working on so...since I don't actually know the rules I'll just do whichever feels right for it Kay? Cool.

1) Ellie sat on a stool on the stage, a simple black dress shimmering under the light. She was supposed to sing some sad love song tonight but all she could think about was the death of Robin the Second. Looking at the crowd of Gotham Citizens she wondered if they even knew yet.

This one is still a draft but it's teenage singer Danielle in an dp×DC universe. The song that inspired the first chapter was actually a cover of the Beatles song Blackbird.

2) Sam wasn't related to her by blood, but Grandma Ida had always loved her for who she was. Sam would never truly worry about money, though she had spent most of her savings on her car and the apartment, because Grandma wouldn't let Sam go hungry or cold. A thousand dollars would be sent to Sam's bank account evey month, and had been since she was a baby.

The next chapter of Gotham's Black Rose is a bit of a struggle for me right now, it takes place after they've moved to Gotham, about them settling in and finding their footing in a new city, and Sam does some reflection on her relationship with her adopted Grandma.

3) "Father, Grandfather, Uncles," Danny greeted as he walked into the dinning room and sat down. The adults all looked at him, but Danny just smiled.

"Who let a kid in here?" - "Uncles?" - "Father?" - "Who are you?"

They all spoke at once but Danny waited for them to quiet down before he spoke up.

"Daniel Bertinelli, or Constantine if you check magical lineage, or Wayne if you ask for my mother's biological father's last name."

"I've got a kid?" The blond Constantine dropped his cigarette.

"...Helena Bertinelli is my daughter?" Bruce Wayne stared at the table as if the wood would make any of this easier.

The next part of The Fine Print where 'everyone' finds out they've had children they didn't know about.

4) Gotham was not a good city to be homeless in, Danny learned. It was cold at night, and rained at least once a week, and he never knew here he was going to sleep.

My Project R fic is not doing too well, I'm not sure why or what to do with it.

5) When Paulina imagined her Graduation from High School, she never would've pictured this for herself. She was Eighteen, turning Nineteen this summer. She thought she'd be dating Dash or Star, that she'd be taking photos and going out to dinner with either of them or maybe the cheer team would meet up.

Of course she never would've predicted Phantom. Couldn't have imagined Fenton. And you can't predict an unexpected baby. That's what makes them unexpected.

But here she was. Kneeling on the grass of the football field, blue Graduation gown the only thing protecting her JJ House designer dress from stains, and her heels starting to sink into the dirt.

"Grad-u-lates Pauli," Ellie said, carefully, with a toothy smile and her happy bright blue eyes. Her little arms went up, hands grabbing at the air. "Uppies?"

It's a Paulina/Danny raise baby Danielle in Gotham fic idk if it's going to go anywhere but I find it cute to think about.

6) Soul dreams were a safe place, at least they were usually. A neutral place where souls met to bring each other into their lives. How the soul dream took shape depended on who was asleep first, and was still asleep when the other joined them.

I hit a self doubt wall with my first soulmate fic, I wanted to analyze Jazz's sense of responsibility towards Danny and her tendency to treating him as a child even while acknowledging he's a teenager. I also wanted to analyze Dick's relationships with his own siblings once I picked him as Jazz's soulmate for this fic. I'm not sure if I should go back to my notes and try again or if I should give up on it entirely for a different soulmate fic.

7) I'm not sure if cleaning the Fenton house was a good idea anymore. Jasmine Fenton sat on the couch in front of me, her hands clasped together and a strange look on her face.

My self instert fic has hit a wall so hard I decided I am going to change it completely. I tried I struggled and I had no idea what I was doing. Here's the last I had for it as it is now though.

Okay! So there's my 7 current WIPs sorta. I haven't had the heart to actually remove anything from my list of projects even though I'm done trying to write for some of them. I did my best though! And I'm proud of what I learn every time I try something new.

I think I'm supposed to tag other people to play too so I guess I'll tag @faeriekit @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @evandarya @spooky-fm @p0ssym1lker

Okay I'm not brave enough to tag more people in a silly game, maybe next time. I'd like to thank @weirdfishy for tagging me, sorry it took me so long to make play too! This was fun once I stopped over thinking it.

#dc x dp #tag game #writing game #first lines #my wips

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bigmouthlass · 2 months ago

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Title: Have A Drink On Me

Series: Holler Me Home, part 11

Author: BJ

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader

Synopsis: The first case after Our Heroes make their big decision leads to considerations of the future, the past, what it means to be a Hunter and a killer and a lover and a partner and a part of something greater than yourself.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, ABO, Omegaverse, AU, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega You, Omega Reader, Alpha Sam Winchester, Episode References, S12E16 Ladies Drink Free, Mick Davies, Omega Mick Davies, British Men Of Letters, Claire Novak, Alpha Claire Novak,

AN: Continuing adventures in AU land. This one is S12E16, 'Ladies Drink Free.' All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

You’re trying not to snap. You’re really trying. But you’re starting to wish you’d ridden Eddie for this trip instead of sharing Baby’s backseat with Mick Davies, snow and all. Instead of stretching out and going to sleep, you’re slumped up against the window trying to distract yourself with your nephew’s Twitch stream of . . . whatever game he’s playing right now. Davies had tried to break the ice with you earlier when he saw the cover art for Piece Of Mind on your phone’s screen, by offering the startling revelation that “The Trooper” was inspired by The Charge Of The Light Brigade. Your patience already running low, you’d told him, rather tartly, that you already knew. And that Maiden’s lyrical influences include Samuel Coleridge and Frank Herbert and the Church Of England hymnal. He’d taken the hint and left you alone, burying himself in paperwork.

Closing your eyes, you reach for patience. Davies is behaving like a man well aware he's doing something significantly beyond him, and is feeling the strain. You have to give him credit for that awareness at least, and the desire to correct it. That doesn't change the fact that he has zero in-country experience, and of all the things you'd pick to break a Hunting cherry, a werewolf hunt would not be your first choice no matter how book-smart a guy might be on the subject.

Teamwork, you remind yourself again. Teamwork makes the dream work. Hunting is a little like writing; the only way to do it is to do it.

Paulie signs off and you pull out your earbuds. Next to you, Davies is listening raptly to an analysis of Martin Luther’s 95 Theses. “Did you have to let him listen to his podcast?” you bitch.

Dean points at Sam.

“It's educational,” Sam bitches back. “And besides, I've been wanting to listen to this one.”

Davies turns off the lecture, and your aching head sighs in relief. “You know, monks like Martin Luther are among the earliest Hunters. He even wrote parts of that book you're holding.”

You did know that, and you also know that's completely discounting the entire Greek Orthodox Church’s history, along with the activities of the Ethiopian church. There’re also several Islamic warriors who were based in North Africa and the Eastern Arabian deserts who would qualify as Hunters by any reasonable definition, and who the hell knows what’s going on in northern Asia and China? You resist the urge to be a wiseass, though it’s surely a strong temptation.

“What?” Sam twists around and stares at Davies. “This lore dates back to the 16th century?”

“Yeah.” Davies shrugs. “Well, in Europe, everything’s old. Though we do have our fair share of new tricks for dealing with wolves-- sulfate gas, silver nitrate lethal injection.”

“Take a handful of silver bullets over any of that fancy crap,” is Dean’s counter.

“Agreed,” you add.

“Yes, well,” Davies sighs, “thanks to that ‘fancy crap,’ Britain's last werewolf outbreak was in the twenties. We rooted them out, bitten and pureblood alike.”

“Wait a second-- you killed them all?” Sam echoes your thought. “Even the ones that weren't hurting anyone?”

Davies’s eyebrows arch up. “Sorry?”

“Your research into lycanthropy didn’t cover that?” you ask. “Some people are able to live with the change.”

“Yeah,” Sam says. “I mean, we have a buddy got bit. Nothing but beef hearts ever since.”

“And you trust him?”

“More than we trust you,” Dean says bluntly.

“Well, killing is a fundamental need for werewolves,” Davies says.

“No, eating is a fundamental need for werewolves,” you correct. “And that’s doable with enough cardiac tissue. Just needs to be from a warm-blooded vertebrate, far as we can tell. Chicken hearts will do, you just need a lot of them."

Davies looks a little surprised but rallies, “Be that as it may, monsters don't just stop being monsters.”

“Well Garth did,” Dean says.

“Get two-thirds of a beer in him Garth’s downright cuddly,” you say.

“Oh, turn here,” Mick says, pointing to a driveway. Dean signals and pulls up to a . . . hotel. Like a real hotel and not a tin shack with cable TV. The sign out front reads Wild Elk Lodge.

Your collective jaws drop. Scuzzy cash-only roach traps are so par for the course when you’re not traveling with the RV you barely notice them. “Um . . .”

Characteristically, Sam has more words. “This place, uh, seems a little--"

“Shabby?” Davies actually sounds a little apologetic. “Yeah, three stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suites.”

“Wait, you . . . We're in separate rooms?” Sam asks, and he sounds like his birthday came early.

“Yeah, of course.”

Dean shoots a look at you, and you gulp. Circumstances usually prevent any kind of fun while you’re on the job. Nice big bed and no Sam snoring two feet away equals--

Davies catches your look and . . . blushes? A vague suspicion you’ve been having all day crystalizes and you suddenly know something about Mr. Mick Davies, Man of Letters.

---

"Mind if I join you?"

You look up from your drink and nod at Davies. "Sure, step into my office."

Climbing up on the barstool, Davies signals the bartender. "Two of whatever the lady's having." As the bartender pulls down the bottle of Laphroig, he makes an impressed face. "Interesting choice."

"Don't tell the guys this," you admit, "but I hate the stuff they keep in the decanter back at the bunker."

"Slainte," Davies says. You tap your glasses and sip. "Ah. Speaking of the boys, do you know where they might be?"

"Sam's probably stealing some time in the exercise room since we're hitting the ground running in the morning."

"And Dean?"

You laugh. "Probably at the pool doing cannonballs in his underwear. If there's a waterslide we'll never see him again."

Davies pulls out a cigarette case. "D’you mind?"

You shake your head. "Actually . . ." you hold out your hand and Davies spots you one. You pull your lighter out of your pocket and light both.

"I didn't know you smoked," Davies observes.

"I usually don't," you say, "but two cigarettes will cover your scent better than one."

He glances away. "How did you know?"

"You've been taking scents ever since you walked in. Besides, I use the same neutralizers. It’s why you wanted to join me isn't it? There's at least one Alpha sitting around the corner."

"Three." Davies motions, his cigarette clamped between his first two fingers. "That big fellow right there. The ginger in the uniform. And our friend drinking tequila like it's water. I know how to make rude Alphas take No for an answer but it's attention we don't want."

"No we do not."

"So," Davies drags over an ashtray, "you and Dean?"

"What you don't have that in your dossiers?" you ask.

"No, actually. Official information on American Hunters in general is challenging to come by. Covering your tracks seems second nature. Winchesters in particular." Davies chuckled. "It even got to be a game with some of our cleverer researchers. They'd make up stories to explain the outlandish contradictions tied up in their paper trails."

"Really? Spill," you tell him.

"Well once," Davies says, leaning in close like one of your mom's friends sharing something scandalous, "we caught their car's registration on camera, at the exact same time, in two different cities! Jordan was convinced that a shapeshifter had somehow shifted into the car and driven itself!"

"If that's what I think it is," you say as your mind makes a connection, "that was a hacker friend of theirs laying false trails. The boys had to leave the country for a couple weeks."

"Ah there, you see? Data's useless without someone to put the bits together. And a man with your Dean's reticence when it comes to committed relationships, well," he spreads his hands, "we didn't expect to find him committing to a bonded mate."

Your eyes go slitted, the way they do whenever someone starts sniffing around your Alpha.

Davies does a double-take over his drink. "Oh no! No I'm not trying to imply anything. Dean's an attractive Alpha but he's not remotely my type. Neither is Sam. Too tall."

"The Men of Letters don't have a problem with you being Omega?"

"No," Davies shrugs. "I know it doesn't always look that way to outsiders, but we're firm believers in the aristocracy of talent. Once we find talent, we do what we can not to waste it. Being an Omega is a manageable inconvenience with the proper planning."

You cough out a smoky laugh. "Sorry. It's just I never in my life heard somebody refer to it as a 'manageable inconvenience'."

"Well why not?" he asks. "You've managed to make a go of it. And you were totally alone most of the time."

"I had help." You explain about the drug study.

Davies puts down his cigarette and calls for another drink. "My God. I've read that study!"

You turn red. "I hope you didn't get the illustrated version."

Davies turns red. "There wasn't anything, well . . . personally identifiable. Mostly imaging scans."

"How long have you been with the Men of Letters?" You listen as Davies tells you about being recruited off the streets, his upbringing and education sponsored by one of the deacons at Kendricks Academy. "Wow," you say, the liquor loosening your tongue a little. "The way the guys talk about the Bevel bitch--" Davies chokes on his drink. "Shit! Sorry!"

"Don't be," Davies says, coughing into a napkin and chortling. "Lady Bevel's of an older mindset. Her family's one of the original founders of the Men of Letters, right back to the time of Edward VI. Very authoritarian."

"It's not like you can argue with the results," you say.

Davies is quiet for a moment. "Can I share something with you?" At your nod, he says, "It's true, we haven't had any monster related casualties since after the war. But it's all rather small potatoes compared to open warfare between Heaven and Hell. Since your boys averted the Apocalypse, it's felt like the rulebook's been thrown out completely."

You nod. "Suddenly the system stopped working."

"Precisely. The weakness of bureaucracy, it doesn't handle surprises well. Our analysts did a logistical study about what might have happened if the Devil's Gate in the Orkneys opened the way the one in Wyoming did. The results were . . . sobering. We want to take a more active role in keeping the world secure from the supernatural. We're just," he grimaces, "still trying to figure out how that should work. But," he says, lighting another cigarette, "that's enough about me. What about you?"

"What, I don't have a super secret file?"

"Incomplete. Been driving me a little mad if I'm honest."

Davies listens as you tell him about Peg, the sextant haunting. "Peg caught her foot and tore the hell out of her ankle. She was stuck in town for weeks. I spent a lot of time with her when she was rehabbing-- helping her around the house, running errands, all that good stuff."

"And the whole time she was training you," he puts it together.

"Mmm-hmm. You wouldn't've known it to look at her, but Peg was a champ at getting people to pour their hearts out to her. You know what I wanted to do before I Presented?" Davies shakes his head, looking fascinated. "I wanted to join the Marines."

"You are having me on!"

"I shit thee not. I had dreams about being the first woman on the Joint Chiefs of Staff. It was a family thing as much as anything. My great-uncle was in the North African and Italian campaigns in World War II. Monte Cassino."

"Nasty business, that was," Davies notes.

"Yeah. Anyway, Peg left but she promised she'd come back for me after I finished high school. She insisted on that."

"And did she?"

"Yep." You smile to remember it. "She told me she watched me graduate from a tree in the Palmers’ back yard, through the scope of her favorite sniper rifle. She took me out of town that night and I was her partner up until she died."

"What of?"

"Would you believe it? Peritonitis, from a burst appendix. She thought maybe she’d gotten some bad bratwurst. By the time we pulled our heads out of our asses and got to a hospital it was too late." You shake your head. Even years later, your heart breaks to think of it. "She singlehandedly killed each and every vampire in Las Cruces, Texas over a two night meth and vodka binge, she tracked and killed one of the last babayagas, she survived the fall of the Iron Curtain and managed to smuggle herself out of Sarajevo two hours ahead of the Serbs. Fucking appendicitis."

Davies sighs. "Katherine Marlowe. My sponsor when I was recruited by the Men Of Letters, she disappeared some years ago. She had a soft spot for orphans, maybe because she couldn’t have children of her own. Closest thing to a mother I ever knew."

"God I'm sorry," you say, putting a hand on Davies’s arm. "What happened?"

"Well by then she'd retired from most active work but you know the job. You never totally walk away from it. She spent her time researching and tracking down magical artifacts, the stranger the better."

"Indiana Jones by way of Savile Row? I like it."

"God she would have hated that," Davies laughs, but there's an edge of melancholy to it. "She's actually Lady Bevel's aunt on her father’s side. I think she collected us orphans partly to spite the rest of the Marlowes."

"You know," you say, "here's a problem as I see it."

"Mmm? What's that?"

"Well the primary points of contact between us and your organization so far have included you, Lady Bevel, and Mr. Ketch. A middle manager-- no offense."

"None taken."

"A pain fetishist, and a hitman. All with very different philosophies as to handling potential allies, and all equally convinced they're fully sanctioned by your organization's leadership. It suggests a disunity of opinion that's concerning. To an outsider."

"That's a rather astringent read of the situation," Davies tells you a mite coldly.

"And the fact that none of you have any real in-country Hunting experience is not going to win you any credibility with most Hunters. Bobby Singer-- rest in peace," you cross yourself, "had the respect of every Hunter he ever worked with because he was never afraid to go in and kick ass. Loyalty meant something to him. It does to most of us."

"Well why do you think I'm here?" Davies asks. "Meeting people like you, like the Winchesters, working with you, trying to show how much better the world can be if we work as a team."

"Well, that's my point. What does working as a team mean to you?" you ask. "Because if it means you give orders and people like us do the dying, that’s not going to work. This isn't the Army, and we are not soldiers."

Davies puts his drink down and faces forward for a few minutes, tense and brooding. You've hit a nerve somewhere. When he looks at you again, there's a pinched look on his face. Confirm nerve strike. "Did it occur to you that maybe the respect of yourself and your colleagues is something I want purely on its own merits?"

"Yes it did.” You’re nobody’s psychologist but it doesn’t take a genius to see the Tom Hagan effect in action. Being an Omega would make that even worse. “Why do you think I’m talking to you like this? I want this to work. Sam does too.”

“And Dean? Unless I’m very much mistaken, he’s the one I need to convince.”

“Just don’t play him. He’ll figure it out and when he does . . . Dean doesn’t always make the best decisions when he’s upset.” Your lips burn with the magnitude of that understatement. “And if he tells you something’s not kosher? Believe him. Dean’s got the sharpest intuitions I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll take that under advisement.”

“You do that.” Butting your cigarette, you hop down off your barstool. “If you’ll excuse me Mr. Davies--”

“Mick. Please,” he says.

“Mick. I think I need to go fish my Alpha out of the pool. Good night. Thanks for the drink.”

“My pleasure,” he smiles.

You leave feeling a little better about the whole enterprise and follow the signs to the pool. Dean’s doing the redneck thing; a pair of boxer shorts standing in for trunks as he swims a lazy backstroke through the water. You take off your boots and socks, roll up your pantlegs, and sit down with your feet dangling over the edge. The water feels wonderful between your toes and you can feel the long day slipping away. It’s its own small happiness, just sitting at your ease watching your Alpha enjoy himself.

“You know, put you in a tail and a seashell bra you’d make an awesome mermaid,” you say as he catches sight of you and paddles over.

“Ha-ha.” Dean puts his feet underneath him and stands to just under your nose. Over your laughing protests, he wraps his soaking wet arms around you and cranes his neck for a kiss. Smacking his lips, he asks, “Whiskey?”

“Had a couple with Mick. We had an interesting conversation.”

Dean cocks an eyebrow at you. “How interesting?”

“Not so interesting I’m not looking forward to not sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

Dean has to take a second to parse that out. “Isn’t that like a triple negative or something?”

“I dunno, I skipped most of freshman English.” You cup Dean’s jaw, slide your hand down his wet skin to the still livid marks of your claiming bite. Dean shivers, stealing another kiss.

"So," he says, leaving your lips with a little farewell peck, "interesting talk?"

"Well first of all, Mick's an Omega."

Dean's eyebrows pop up. "Really. That's interesting. Do I need to warn Sam?"

"Mention it. Don't make Mick feel weird. I don't know about the organization, but the guy himself really is trying."

"Yeah but he's a fucking amateur. Amateurs are meat in this job."

"I know that Dean, but-- I mean, look at this," you gesture around. "Not having to support ourselves on mail fraud and dumb luck would make this job a snap. Might mean more of us could settle down, have a home base. Maybe not the full apple pie, but . . . the apple crumble life?"

"I still don't like it. You're the one who keeps saying beware Englishmen bearing gifts."

"Yeah, still looking for the hook in this nice juicy worm. If their idea of the perfect hunter is fucking Ketch--"

"You really don't like him do you?"

"Ketch is Bad. Like, capital-B Bad. And I don't like the conclusions he jumped to about you." You think a minute. "I don't like that these people are leaning extra hard into the Brains versus Brawn dichotomy. Sam kicks plenty of ass and you're a damned smart guy."

Dean grimaces. You spare a thought to curse John Winchester, for that involuntary grimace every time someone dares to give Dean a compliment. "Yeah. I didn't like the Final Solution vibe I got off Mick when he was talking about werewolves either."

"Me neither." You let the thoughtful quiet hang for a minute, then put away the subjects of Mick Davies and the Men of Letters for the night. "So. You done dog-paddling or . . ."

"I'm not done doing nothing," Dean drawls, a slow grin lighting him up.

Oh the little motherfucker-- "Oh no, no no," you warn, trying to scootch back out of snatching range, "don't even think about it, fuckstick--"

Dean's arms lock around you and down you go into the drink.

You come up sputtering. "Fuck you Winchester!" You catch up as he swims away and the two of you spend a productive few minutes behaving like five year olds on an Red Bull high.

---

Later, after receiving a stern dressing-down from the hotel's night manager and a solemn promise to remember you're adults, you two slosh to your rooms. Outside his door Dean yawns. "Honey? Y'know I'm kinda tired-- I've been driving all day and I didn't sleep good last night--"

You put your hands on your hips. "If this is your way of telling me you're gonna lay there and make me do all the work," you toss your head and turn on your heel, "good night, Winchester."

Whaddaya know, he's magically not tired anymore. With almost economical grace, he unlocks his door with one hand, yanks you off your feet with the other, and the two of you land inside his room with a splat.

---

The next morning after a raid on the breakfast buffet, you join your boys outside as they wait for the valet.

"Those pillows, right?" Dean gushes. "The little chocolates that they put on? I mean, I'm ruined, Sam. Those limey sons of bitches ruined me. I even took a swim."

"You brought a swimsuit?" Sam asks.

"Nope," you tell him.

"Ugh. He didn't," Sam groans.

"Yep. How was your night? Sleep okay?" you ask.

"Yeah. Full king size bed," Sam says, looking a bit dreamy. For a guy of Sam's height, that's not a small matter. "I read through more of Mick's lore books-- listen to this, it's crazy. So apparently, back in the '30s, they were working on this treatment for werewolves. This, like, blood therapy."

"Plasma therapy," Mick corrects, joining you with his ever-present briefcase. "Useless, I'm afraid. So how were your accommodations?"

Dean the Grouch is back. "I've had better night's sleep in my Baby." Taking the keys from the valet and slipping him a tip, Dean grumbles, "Get in. Let's go." As you join Mick in the backseat, you hear him say to Sam sotto voce, "Not gonna give him the satisfaction."

Mick looks over at you. Unlike the men, you're in work clothes layered up for the outdoors, a stocking cap covering your head. "Four FBI agents are a bit much," you say. "I'm gonna look at the attack site and see if rabid Lassie left any sign. See if we're dealing with a lone wolf or a pack."

"Good thinking," Mick says. "If the police are still there?"

"Yeah, here," Sam says, passing an ID wallet back to you. "Hot off the press."

"Thank you." You flip it open and see your own face scowling back at you under a badge. "If anybody asks, I'm Daria Fleetwood, Wisconsin DNR."

---

Nobody asks, and the crime scene is empty when you get there. It's also pretty thoroughly trampled over. Walking carefully, you examine likely hiding places, spots in the trees where someone could observe without being seen. You find tracks from a woman's square-heeled boot, and snagged on a bramble branch you find a strand of hair. Long, fine, shining gold in the winter sunlight. You're pretty sure it belongs to the person crunching around like they've got lead in their shoes, circling you slowly and staying almost out of your sightline. Another werewolf come to the scene, checking up on the cops or just to have a gloat?

When you hear a hammer click back you swing and catch the stalker's arm, twisting their weapon our of their hand and pointing it straight back at them. Yep, there's the head that produced that strand of golden hair. The head belongs to a-- "Jesus Christ, what are you twelve?" you blurt.

Striking blue eyes glare at you. "You're not a cop. What are you doing out here?"

"Hunting a werewolf," you say easily, playing a hunch, "same as you."

Hunch pays off, as Blondie's face goes slack with shock for just a second. She also looks . . . familiar? Something about how her mouth shapes itself when she frowns and the deep blue of her eyes. "There's no such thing as werewolves."

"Uh-huh," you say. "Tell you what-- when I unload this revolver, if I don't find silver I'll buy you a good steak dinner. Is it a bet?" Blondie deflates, puffing out a disgusted sigh. "That's what I thought." You uncock the weapon, open the cylinder, and dump the bullets into your hand. Silver rounds all right. You flick the cylinder back shut and offer the weapon, butt first.

Blondie takes it and stuffs it into a shoulder holster under her coat. "Who are you?"

You introduce yourself, taking the handful of bullets and make sure the kid can see the silver touching your skin. "See? No pain, no blisters. Not a werewolf. Hold out your hand." You dump the bullets into her outstretched palm and note the lack of reaction. As your new friend tucks them into her pocket, her phone rings. "Put it on speaker when you answer," you tell her, and it's not a request.

"Fuck you," she says. An Alpha’s snarl, and a strong Alpha scent of vanilla and cinnamon.

"Not into girls. Do it."

Rolling her eyes like she just can't even, the kid digs into another pocket. "Agent Beatrice Quimby."

"Oh thank God," Dean's voice comes over the speaker in a thick Canadian accent and you bite your lips to keep from giggling. "There's a bear, it's the size of a freaking TANK! I think it wants my pick-a-nick basket!"

The kid does that eye roll thing again. "Hi Dean."

"Hi Dean," you echo and the kid's jaw actually drops. "How'd it go at the hospital?"

"Um . . ." you grin. Rare to catch your Alpha off his feet. "It went okay, until Hayden's mother said she got shaken down by a blonde claiming to be Fish and Wildlife. Know anything about that Claire?"

And that's how you meet Claire Novak.

---

"Claire what are you doing here?" Sam asks as you flop on the loveseat next to Dean. You lean into each other, just for a moment. Wolves touching noses, taking in each others' scents.

"Same as you. Werewolf case," she says, trying to play it cool and missing by a few inches.

"She pulled a pistol on me when I was looking over the crime scene," you explain.

There's the eye roll. "Yeah, real impressive-- I had you cold," she scoffs, trying to get a little dignity back.

She's not going to get it back from you. "No you didn't. I heard you stomping around the whole time. Credit for at least wanting to make sure before you took your shot."

Claire scowls, and yeah, you can see the resemblance, see Castiel’s vessel in the shape of her mouth and her beautiful blue eyes. "So. You bring your girlfriend on Hunts now Dean?"

"Watch it kid, I've been Hunting since before you were born," you warn her. “You really should have your hair tied up and covered if you're in country."

Mick arrives from the bar with two hands full of bottles. "Beers all around," he says.

"Who're you?" Claire asks. Manners were clearly not part of whatever training she's had.

"Oh-- Mick Davies. Men of Letters. British." He offers his hand and, looking thoroughly nonplussed, Claire shakes.

"Long story," Dean says at her quizzical look. "And like, Downton Abbey boring, so . . ." as Claire reaches for a beer Dean plucks it from her hand. Holy hell how old is this kid?

"Okay," Claire sighs. "Anyway, I've been on this a day. And guess what? The girl, Hayden? Her story about what happened the night of attack? One big lie."

"Her mom said the same thing," Sam confirms.

“Where was she?” Dean asks.

“She was at the local dive bar, getting trashed. It’s about half a mile from where she got attacked. I tracked her phone and asked around and--" she grins at the grownups around the table. “Bartenders love me. It’s a gift.”

“What’d they tell you?” you ask.

“The guy I talked to was a scumbag. Tribal tat, motorcycle, grabby,” Claire continues.

Dean’s jaw goes tight. “’Grabby?’”

Patiently, Claire says, “I'm a big girl. I handled it.”

“What about the hospital? How’s Hayden,” you ask.

“She’s a little knocked about but she’ll be all right,” Mick reports. “She said she heard her brother scream, and when she ran towards him she was ambushed by a large man wearing black clothes and a mask.” Mick glances over at a giant clock decorated with elk horns. “Right. Think I’m gonna call it a night.”

Glancing at his watch, Sam notes, “Dude, it's 5:30.”

“Yeah,” Mick replies, “but my report's due at 6:00 sharp. All work, no play.” To Claire he gives a distracted smile. “Nice meeting ya.”

“So,” Claire observes when Mick’s safely out of earshot, “your foreign exchange student’s totally lame.”

“Yeah. He's Sam's best friend,” Dean tells her, ignoring Sam’s bitchface and exasperated sigh. “They’re like nerd soul mates.”

"We're hoping he's trainable," you say.

"Anyway," Sam changes the subject, "why are you alone?"

"Jody's busy with sheriff stuff. And she said to call if I found anything." Right. Your big sister instincts say Lie.

Sam sees it too. "So you called her."

"You called first," Claire says. "And she's great, by the way. And so is Alex. So," she changes the subject back, "should we go to the morgue?"

"Take it easy, Clarice. Morgue's closed," Dean says.

"By the way," Sam says, looking the girl up and down, "when's the last time you had a hot meal that didn't come from a Gas-n-Sip microwave?"

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Dean says.

"It's been a while," Claire admits.

"Well--" Dean hands Claire a menu. "Go nuts. It's on, uh, Harry Potter."

"Cool," Claire says with a laugh.

"And when's the last time you slept in a bed? One you didn't have to worry about tiny livestock in the mattress?" you ask. "I got a suite I'm not using and this hotel has a laundromat. You can get a tubsoak, do your wash."

"Hell yeah," Claire says. But then she thinks it through a little and gives you and Dean a look. "Ew. Seriously?"

---

"Swanky," Claire observes, unshouldering her duffel.

"Yeah," you say. "Pro tip-- never pass up an opportunity to do laundry." You toss Claire a pill bottle full of quarters. She catches it easily. Good reflexes.

"Yeah whatever," she scoffs.

You give her a look. "And learn how to say thank you. Believe it or not this job runs on relationships."

"You know," oh fuck, you gave her something to get pissed at, "I'm really damn sick of people lecturing me on how to do my job. Especially after they steal my gigs."

"We didn't steal shit," you counter. "And people are more likely to treat you like an adult when you behave like one. Hayden's mom had you pegged for a phony the minute you opened your mouth. You're lucky she's too worried about her kid to report you to the cops."

"Right. I'm gonna take advice from Dean Winchester's breeder."

In three easy moves, you've got Claire on the floor with a knee in her back and her arm twisted up to her shoulderblades. "Watch your fucking mouth, girlie-o. I've been taking down scarier things than a mouthy Alpha teenager since you were in diapers."

"Let me go!" Claire cries.

"No. You're going to calm down, you're going to apologize, and you're going to get in the habit of listening when someone's giving you friendly advice. Sam and Dean might have reservations about giving you some wall-to-wall counseling. I do not." You jerk her wrist up to emphasize your point.

Claire's not a complete idiot. When she realizes she's staying put until you let her up, she goes still. "All right," she surrenders. "All right, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm sorry for calling you a breeder."

"And?"

"What?"

"And 'I promise to listen when people are trying to help me be better at my job, because people care about me and don't want me to fucking die.'" That's the rub, you know. Claire's got the same problem the boys have; somewhere they picked up the rock-solid belief that they don't matter enough to care about. In spite of all possible evidence to the contrary.

Claire struggles with all her strength. When she runs out, she lays panting underneath you. "All right," she says again. "Fine. I promise to listen when people are helping me, because they care about me and they don't want me to fucking die. Happy now?"

"Provisionally," you say, letting go of her arm and getting to your feet.

Glaring at you with every bit the fool's pride one might expect of a young Alpha, Claire rolls over and stands. Still, there's a glimmer of intelligence under the attitude. Whatever else she might be, she's a survivor. "How did you do that?"

"Your contempt for Omegas," you answer. "You assumed I wouldn't get physical with you, because of your age, my designation, and the fact that you're friends with my mate. Here's another pro tip-- allowing contempt to rule your judgement will get you killed one day. The Omega," you point at yourself, "got the drop on you twice. If the werewolf we're tracking has any experience with Hunters at all, you're meat."

"Wait-- mate?" Claire asks.

You show her the marks. "Mate."

Claire's attitude recedes and she stares at you. At your buzzed hair and ratty turtleneck. You stare right back. "Wow," she says, with a little laugh. "Just-- wow. Dean Winchester the turbo-slut--"

"Watch it kid or get real used to the taste of floor."

"Sorry," she says, not sounding very sorry. "Is the lecture over?"

"One more thing," you say. "The day you stop learning how to do your job better, write out your will and your If And When letters."

You head to the bathroom and strip out of your work clothes and put on some shorts and a tank top. You weren't kidding about taking every opportunity to do laundry. When you come out, Claire's sitting on the bed sorting her clothes. Her eyebrows go up when she sees you. More specifically, when she sees your scars. You look down at yourself, and up to meet her eyes. "Ask if you want to know."

"Okay," she says, so you give her the scar tour. The insouciance fades a little with every mark you point out, until she's listening raptly. You tell her about Peg, about those first times in the field when you were so scared you threw up every night and barely slept. "In retrospect I grew up pretty sheltered," you say. “I was a tomboy when I was a kid but I wasn't prepared to hunt things that could hunt me back."

"Yeah," Claire says. She tips her head to one side and you can see faint white puncture marks. "Vampire. He was targeting Alex and took Jody and me as bait."

You nod. "I'd show you my bite mark but I was tied up and the fucking pervert took it from my femoral artery." You point to a spot high on your inner thigh, covered by your shorts. "I almost bled out. Thank God, Francois got me to a medic in time. Three units of B-neg, a shitload of Sprite, and two days bed rest. Fuck vampires."

"Yeah," Claire says, lighting up with a laugh. "Fuck vampires."

---

And that's how the evening goes. You and Claire do your laundry together, talking a little when the mood takes you or sitting quietly, you reading the local paper and Claire messing around on her phone. She's a charming girl when she drops the attitude, and you can tell she's craving the company. Sam and Dean join you just after you put your clothes in the dryer. You take control of the TV and tune in to the local news. The attack is being chalked up as a wolf attack, with no mention of Benjamin Foster's missing heart.

"Still think we should've hit the morgue," Claire grumbles.

"You've already been made," you point out. "You get caught breaking and entering, that's attention we could do without."

"She's right," Sam says around a yawn. "The body will still be there in the morning."

"Just because you old farts need your sleep--"

"Hey!" Dean says, stung.

"Who said anything about sleep?" you say, grabbing Dean by his shirt and hauling him to his feet. You snag your bag of clean laundry on the way by.

"Totally whipped," is Claire's judgement call.

"Oh yeah?" Dean bends you backwards and lays one of those full-bodied, take-no-prisoners kisses that sends you from zero to slicked-up mess in ten seconds.

"Are they always like this?" you vaguely hear Claire ask Sam.

"Jesus Christ yes," Sam groans.

---

What started as an attempt to put Claire’s nose out of joint turns into something else PDQ. In Dean’s room, shirts fly everywheres. “Please baby,” you pant into Dean’s mouth. He hasn’t let go of your lips for more than little sips of air.

“Yes,” Dean grunts. He winds his arms around you and balances you just right as you hop and wrap your legs around him. Whoever told you your libido would ebb after bonding lied. Oh how they fucking lied.

Yelling as your claws cut into his back, Dean tears at your shorts until they’re reduced to scraps and elastic strings. You fumble his belt apart and his pants open, totally deaf to Dean’s plea to hold on a second. His cock hardens to steel in your hand, like an animal you can command. “Good cock,” you pant.

“I got a good cock?” Dean pants back, laughing.

“Best cock,” you tell him. “So fuck me with your good cock.”

“Hell yes, I’m gonna fuck you with my good cock,” Dean tells you, falling on the bed with a whuff of pillow top and billowy duvet. “Gonna fuck your good pussy with my good cock."

You toss your head back as he suits action to words, shoving into you thick and hot. Dean’s lips are everywhere, caressing every little bit of your face including your eyelids and up into your buzzed hair. You arch back into the mattress. God, the perfect deep fuck of your mate inside you. He sucks at the fang cuts over your mating gland and you yell and hope to God the Wild Elk Lodge has good soundproofing or Mick’s getting an earful.

“Not gonna last,” Dean says and yeah, his eyebrows are kinked the way they get when he’s already riding the edge.

“’Sokay,” you tell him, “gimme your fucking knot Alpha, I want it, give it to me already.”

Dean takes a second to rebrace himself and catch his breath. “Hang on honey,” he grunts, and you hang on.

---

You're in the shower the next morning when a text comes over both yours and Dean's phones. A second later, you hear Dean swear. "What is it?" you ask, peeking around the shower curtain.

"Hayden. She's dead."

"What? How?"

"Don't know. Sam just hung up with the doctor. They don't know cause of death yet."

You rinse, dry, and head for your room. You use your keycard and find Claire still dead asleep. "Hey Novak, up and att’em." You show her the text as she blinks awake. To her credit she's alert in a snap and reaching for her clothes.

"Here." You hand her an eyeshadow palette in pale browns and a fistful of bobby pins. For your part, you throw on a silk blouse and trousers and complete the look with a brunette wig.

Claire looks you over and nods her approval. "Very soccer mom."

"Thank you." Your Glock goes in the holster at the small of your back. Throwing on a jacket, you hold the door for Claire as she steps into a pair of low pumps and heads out. She did a good job; the neutral makeup and business casual ages her up a few years, turning her from a high school student to a twentysomething professional woman who takes good care of her skin.

The guys are already waiting between the Chevy and Claire's little rustbucket. "Ladies," Mick greets you.

"Morning. What do we know?" you ask.

"Not much," Sam says. "She was recovering well yesterday, but around one in the morning her mom found her body."

"Jesus," you say.

"Yeah,” Sam agrees. “But here's the weird part-- her room was torn up. Somebody knocked over the IV pole, Hayden's body was on the floor, the window was cracked."

"What the hell?" Claire says.

"You know that's a wonderful question," you say.

---

"Thanks for coming by so quickly," Dr. LaPere says. "Ms. Foster gave us your number."

With the five of you, the room feels uncomfortably crowded. Thank God, the staff is so harried they don't question the abundance of officers of the law outside what's supposed to be their jurisdiction.

Hayden, a lovely brunette in life, lies pale and cold on a gurney. Your heart twists with pity. Three days ago, her mother had two children.

"You have any idea what happened to her?" Dean asks

Dr. LaPere sighs. "Autopsy's tomorrow, but it could be an arterial embolism, cardiac arrest."

You frown. "She's a little young for heart issues."

"It gets weirder. When we admitted her, she had defensive wounds to her arms. Now . . ." he lowers the blanket covering Hayden from the chest down and picks up one of her arms, "they're gone." The doctor's beeper goes off. He glances at it, frowns, and says, "Just give me a second."

"Of course," you say as he leaves. The door whuffs shut behind him.

You all wait until you're sure he's out of earshot. Claire goes first. "Okay seriously now-- what the hell?"

Dean looks over at Mick. "You checked Hayden out. Did you notice anything weird?"

"No," Mick says, "but, uh, the girl could've had internal injuries or . . ."

"But somehow, her external injuries all healed?" Sam says. "No way. This is almost like, uh . . ." He thinks a second. "You know, what if she turned?"

"What, like, 'wolfed out' turned?" Dean asks.

"Explains the whole Wolverine healing factor thing," Claire says. You're looking at Mick when she says that, and you frown at the furtive look in his eyes. Something ain't right there.

Dean sees it too. "Yeah, no, but that'd be crazy because that means she would've been bit. And Mick here says that that didn't happen. Right, Mick?"

"Uh . . . uh, no, not-- not that I saw." You and the boys exchange a glance. Right, that's not suspicious at all. Neither is the thing you see on the dead girl's chest, out of everyone else’s sight line. You don't point it out. See how the situation develops.

"Are you a hundred percent sure?" Sam asks.

"Unless I made a mistake," Mick confesses.

"Hell of a mistake," Dean says.

"Dean . . ." Sam begins.

"No, I told you we shouldn't have dragged him along. I told you!" Dean snaps.

"Don't!" Everyone in the room turns to look at Claire. She glares back, an equal amongst colleagues. "Whatever got Hayden is still out there."

"She's right," you say. "So the night of the attack, the wolf kills the brother for his heart, nails Hayden, and then, what, runs for the hills?"

"That doesn't make any sense. Maybe he let her go," Sam thinks out loud.

"On purpose? Why?" Claire asks.

"Perhaps he didn't want her dead," Mick chips in. "He wanted her turned."

"Right. Which means this wasn't random," Sam adds the next bead.

"Which means it would've been somebody who knew her," Dean ties it off. "Friends, family."

"Or someone from the bar," Claire adds.

"Okay," Dean says, taking command. "All right, Sam-- you and Claire, you go talk to the girl that she was supposed to be crashing with, and us and amateur hour will hit the bar, see what shakes loose."

---

Outside, Sam takes a look at Claire’s ride and sighs. You hide a smile. The poor man's gonna have to ride with his knees up around his ears in that thing. You pull your bag of spare clothes out of Baby's trunk and, crouched down in the seat to avoid prying eyes, swap your blouse for a turtleneck and your blazer for your denim jacket. Just a blue collar slob on her day off looking to have a drink or five. A stocking cap goes over your wig.

"Dean," Mick says as the three of you walk up to the bar's front door, "what happened back there . . . my mistake, it won't happen again."

Dean’s not in a conciliatory mood. "Better not." He hangs back as Mick reaches for the door, only to see Mick pull his arm back with a grimace. "Problem?"

"The old carpal tunnel," he says, clenching and shaking out a fist.

"Well, allow me, your lordship," you say, pulling the door open. "I'm gonna hang back, do a circle of the building."

Mick thanks you and walks through the door, but you stop Dean as he turns to follow. "I saw a needle stick in the middle of Hayden’s chest," you mutter.

"I knew it," Dean growls, just as low. "I fucking knew it."

"Play it cool for now," you say. "We'll put him through the wringer later."

With a nod, Dean goes inside. You do a lap around the building, but nothing jumps out at you. You do catch sight of surveillance cameras covering the front parking area and the back alley. Going inside, you ignore Dean and Mick grilling some tattooed jackass and belly up the bar. From the nervous look on the bartender's face, he's already spent a few minutes getting a Dean Winchester Special Glare. "Vodka and cranberry juice, please." You glance at the patron beside you and get out your phone. "Hi. Ever seen this girl around?"

The canvass is a bust and the manager's not in, so no looking at the security camera footage. Frustrated and disgusted with yourself, you wait outside for the guys to finish up.

They're only a few minutes. "Found the guy Hayden'd been seeing on the sly," Dean reports. "Total douchebag. Definitely fits the profile."

"Did you get a chance to slip him some silver?" you ask.

"No, we're gonna have to do that later."

"So that's the plan? Come back tonight?" Mick asks.

"Yeah. Nice work in there, by the way," Dean says.

"Thank you," Mick replies.

"Yeah, that alibi-- I almost bought it," Dean says.

"Sorry?"

"Gun," Dean tells you. Quick as thought you snatch Mick's weapon from the small of his back and Dean arm-bars him against the nearest wall. "See, here's the thing about sixteen year old girls, especially sixteen year old freshly minted werewolf girls-- they don't just die. And you've been acting sketchy all day."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You jab Mick in the shoulder and he yelps in pain. "Care to explain why the needle stick from her IV was gone, but not the needle stick in her heart?"

The uncertainty and little-kid dread falls away. Mick straightens his back and looks Dean in the eye for the first time all day. "I did what needed to be done."

"And that means?" Dean asks.

You grab Mick's injured shoulder and squeeze. "Answer him, Mr. Davies."

"Last night, I injected her with silver nitrate," he confesses, groaning in pain.

"So you killed her?" Dean demands. "She never hurt anybody and you killed her."

"Well, she attacked me," Mick defends himself. "She tore up my shoulder. And . . . I had orders."

"No. You had a choice," you say.

"Did I?" Mick demands. "Killing monsters is what we do. Or maybe palling around with demons and witches, you've forgotten."

"Don't you dare tell us how to do our job," you growl.

"Well, then do it," Mick says.

"You really think it's that fucking simple?"

Mick glares at you. "I really do."

"Yeah?" Dean asks. "I used to think the same thing. Well, here's a little tip. Things aren't just black and white out here. All you have is a case in front of you, like Hayden. A few months ago, there was this kid, this psychic. She was killing people, but she didn't mean to hurt anyone-- she was being abused and she was trying to call out for help! So we gave her a second chance because it was the right thing to do."

Mick retorts, "Well . . . that's your luxury. We have a Code."

"And just where does the saving people half of Hunting figure into that Code?" you ask. "Is that a priority or a happy side effect? Because that's not what we're trying to do here."

"And now Hayden's mom, she gets to bury two kids instead of one, thanks to you and thanks to your Code," Dean wraps it all up. "Nice work."

Dean's phone rings as you take shotgun. "It's Sam," he says. "You're on speaker."

Sam tells you.

---

Soaked with sweat and moaning in pain, Claire thrashes on the bed. You check her temperature with the back of one hand. "Fuck, she's burning up. Go fill the tub, we gotta get her fever down."

"No no," Mick corrects you, grabbing the extra blanket from the room's couch. "Keep her warm."

"Back off," Sam snarls at him, using his Alpha voice

"Look, I understand you're angry--"

"You killed a kid," Sam says, and oh hell, you can see the points of his fangs. Mick sees them too, and you can tell he's fighting not to cringe. Fucking Omega reflexes. "We're not angry-- we're done."

Holding herself and shaking, Claire asks, "How long have I got until--"

"It varies," you tell her. "Sometimes it takes a full moon. Sometimes it just takes time."

"Hey," Dean says softly, kneeling in front if the young Alpha. "Listen to me, Claire. Nobody said this was gonna be easy, okay? But you can live with this."

Claire shakes her head. "No way."

"Hey, look at me." When he has her undivided attention, he says, "So you have to stay locked down for a few nights out of the month. The rest of the time, you're you."

"Unless I break out," Claire says as you're thinking it. "Maybe some people can control this," her voice breaks on a sob, "but I can barely keep it together on a good day. So if there's any chance I could hurt Jody or Alex, or anyone, I'd rather die."

You heart breaking, you sit next to Claire and take her in your arms. She buries her face in your neck and scents you. You do your best to keep yourself soft, nurturing, not-scary, an older mated Omega offering comfort.

"Claire, there may be another way," Sam says, his words tripping over each other the way they do when he's thinking and talking at the same time. "There's-- there's the blood therapy that you talked about."

"I told you," Mick says, "it doesn't work. "

"It says right here," Sam finds a passage in the book in front of him and points it out, reading out loud, "one out of nine test subjects was cured. "

"Cured?" Claire asks.

"That study was on mice!"

Dean stalks towards Mick, and yeah, his protective Alpha mode is fully engaged. "You want to tell me what the hell he's talking about?!?"

Mick gulps. "We experimented with the blood of sire werewolves. And we found it was possible to reverse the early stages of lycanthropy. In rodents."

"So you never moved on to human trials," you say.

"Once," Mick reports.

"And?" you ask.

"The subject died, in agony. Sorry," he says to Claire, and to his credit he sounds like he means it.

"Yeah, well. Maybe second time's a charm," she says.

"Hey, no, no-- you don't get a vote in this," Dean tries to head the whole idea off.

"It's my life," Claire counters, her tone brooking no argument. "I get all the votes."

"You guys wanna back me up here?" Dean asks.

“Claire’s a grown woman and a Hunter," you answer your mate. "She's the one who gets to say whether or not this is an acceptable risk."

“She’s right,” Sam adds.

Outnumbered, Dean turns his anger on Mick. "I bet you think this is a great solution. Hmm? It works, or she dies. Either way one less monster, right?"

The human being Mick Davies actually is says, "I don't think there's any great solutions here."

"Dean . . . please? I can't--" Claire moans

“All right,” Dean concedes. “If we do this-- if . . . how do we get it done?”

“We need blood. Live blood, from the werewolf that bit her,” Mick reports.

“Who we lookin' at?” Sam asks.

“Tribal tat, back at the bar,” Dean says. “We shook him down about Claire, and right after, she gets bit-- that's not a coincidence.”

“Timing works out. Connection to both victims,” you note.

“Then we should go,” Mick says. “The full moon rises in less than an hour, and if she turns and feeds, our cheery success rate drops to zero.”

You make as if to rise, but Claire grabs for you, whining softly. “Don’t.”

“It’s okay, I’ll stay right here, it’s okay, shh,” you sit back down and let Claire cling, humming under your breath.

“You trust him?” Sam asks, ticking his head at Mick.

“Mick's a smart guy,” Dean replies. “So when I say that if anything happens to her, and I mean anything--”

“You'll kill me.”

“No,” you tell him. “The boys will bury you.”

Claire peeks up from your neck. “Sam, if you're not back--"

“We’ll be back,” Sam swears.

---

Claire can't sit still, as the change really starts to dig into her. She keeps sitting down, getting up, pacing, sitting down again, clinging to you, shoving you away. Her pale skin bakes with fever and runs with sweat. Her scent shifts to something . . . defiled. Spoiling meat, old blood. Does her designation speed up the process or slow it down? You don't know. Everything you know and everything you can do is useless here, if the object is to preserve life the way you claim it is.

Claire spies Mick’s pistol on the coffee table. Mick sees it and gets to it first.

“You don't understand-- it's happening!” Claire wails. “Give it to me!”

“No,” you and Mick say together.

“Then you do it, please! It's happening! And you don't understand how this feels!”

Mick raises his weapon, and you draw on him. “Make a move asshole. Make a fucking move.”

He doesn’t even look at you. “I know a man who would shoot you right now without a moment's thought,” he says. “And every instinct I have says he's right. That I ought to do my duty.” Your finger tenses on the trigger. You bet you’re faster than he is. “But . . .” Mick’s arm sags, “but my instincts haven't been so grand of late. Sit down.” He notices you, and, making sure to move slowly and telegraph his movements clearly, tucks his pistol into the small of his back.

Claire moans, curling herself into a tight little ball. She looks awful, pale and in pain. “Hey, hey--" you say, rubbing her back. You look up at Mick. “Is there anything we can do for her?”

Mick digs in a suitcase and comes up with a tangle of thick canvas straps. “Firstly, we're gonna restrain you, right? For all of our protection. Okay?” He puts down the straps and picks up a brown glass vial.

“Woah woah woah-- what’ve we got there?” you demand.

“Animal tranquilizer. Xylazine, to be exact With any luck, when you wake up, this will all be over,” he tells Claire.

“If I wake up.” Tears roll down her ghost-pale cheeks. “I gotta call Jody. She's gonna be so mad at me.”

You kneel in front of her, the way Dean did. “Where do you keep your If And When letters?”

Claire sniffles. “What?”

“You’re a Hunter kiddo. It’s a good idea to keep your affairs in order. A will with your next of kin, and if you’ve got a final message for anyone, have it written out.”

She bursts into tears. You hold her and let her cry. You don’t judge. You did the same thing when Peg confronted you with that nugget of advice.

“That’s one hell of a thing to say to her,” Mick snarls at you.

You ignore him in favor of holding Claire. Moving her hair aside, you check the bite wound. The punctures are gone, without a trace. “Shut up and get the fucking straps.”

All three of you leap to your feet as the door bursts in, shattered to kindling.

“MICK NO!” you cry as he goes straight for the intruder, a big guy in a black hoodie and a skull mask. The guy pitches Mick right into you and you go down hard, your pistol flying out of your hand.

The guy advances on Claire. Slowly, he pushes back his hood and pulls off his mask. “Fuck me,” you groan. It’s the bartender from earlier, the one who looked like he’d just taken one in the nuts after getting grilled by Dean. You see your weapon over against the wall and start crawling for it, cussing. Mick’s unconscious body has your lower half pinned, and the fucker’s heavy. A hard sound of flesh and bone and Claire goes down in a flare of golden hair.

You finally fight your way free of Mick and snatch up your Glock. You get one shot off which grazes the guy’s ribs. Before you can fire again he smacks your gun hand to the side and snaps a big hand around your neck.

God you hate it when the bad guys do the Darth Vader thing-- the bartender stands and lifts you by the neck until your toes brush the carpet. “Fresh meat,” he snarls through a mouthful of fangs.

“’Et go,” you wheeze, clawing at his wrist as black sparkles wash across your vision.

---

You wake up in the trunk of a car, hogtied. Motherfucker did a good job of it too, the cords have no play at all and you can’t quite reach them with your claws. You can wiggle and inchy-worm and even turn over a little. And that’s all.

The car stops just as you wrap your fingers around the trunk release. “It’s all right, honey, the pain will pass,” the bartender says softly as he opens the passenger side door and pulls out a groaning Claire.

Maybe he’s leaving you in the trunk for now? Maybe you have enough time to creep away? No choice but to go for it; you twist and pull hard as you can on the release handle and the trunk lid pops up. Good. Great. Air. Smells like the paper mill that’s still operating outside of town.

“Aw no ya don’t.” Picking you up easily despite your struggles, the bartender hauls you inside a rundown little tract house on a long block of houses just like it. The other houses are dark, the driveways buried in snow and plowed in. No one around for miles likely to call the law at a scream or a stray gunshot.

Inside it’s your basic drunk bachelor crashpad, looks like a landfill and smells like a bottle return hasn’t been cleaned since Clinton was in office. The bartender drags you to a couch and dumps you on it. You see Claire tied to the support column between the kitchen and the living room, pale as milk and twitching in pain. “You okay Claire-ree?”

She shoots you an annoyed glare.

“Okay, stupid question,” you concede.

“Shut up! Don’t talk!” the bartender snaps, rushing around the place with a duffel bag and throwing in assorted bits of rickrack. Claire curls up as much as she can and groans. The bartender goes to her, caresses her face. “I know this is sudden, but you and your friends, you should've let me have Hayden. She was miserable here. She . . . we had big plans.”

“Yeah?” Claire asks. “Was that before or after you bit her?”

“I had to know if she could survive the change. Not everyone does.” Claire tosses in her bonds, crying out. The bartender nods. “See? It hurts at first, but eventually, it's like the best drug ever times a thousand.”

“Right. Eat me, Teen Wolf,” Claire snarls.

“It's not like I want to do this,” the bartender says. He pulls up a chair and sits backwards. “My pack, we were happy. We didn't hurt anyone. And then hunters with weapons that I've never seen before, they show up and take out 20 of us, just like that. The ones that made it, we split up, but we weren't meant to live like that. A werewolf needs his pack. You'll see. I'm a nice guy."

"You know who says they're a nice guy?" Claire retorts. "Clingy, insecure bitches with mommy issues."

"The lady is wise beyond her years," you say.

"That's just the change talking. You'll feel better once you've had something to eat." He glares down at you. "I was gonna take you with us, nice juicy Omega. But you're mated, so we'll have to kill your mate first. It's one of them isn't it? One of those guys?"

"Oh you mean the guys who think of killing things like you as exercise? You're dead, boy, and my mate knows how to make dying last for-fucking-ever."

"She's not kidding," Claire adds. "I saw what happens when you rub Dean Winchester the wrong way. He was outnumbered five to one, and when it was over the other guys were in pieces."

"We don't have time to eat fresh," the bartender says. "I'm sorry, we'll have to save her for later." He heads for the refrigerator and pulls out a heart wrapped in Saran wrap. "You'll feel better once you eat something."

"Claire look at me," you say as the bartender peels the wrap off and pries Claire's jaws open.

"Try it," the bartender coaxes, shoving the heart in her open mouth. "You'll like it. Nothing better than human." He shoves harder and you fight to keep from throwing up at the sound of raw meat tearing apart. "As soon as I saw you, I knew . . . you're just like me. Alone. "

Claire hawks back, and spits the bits of torn tissue and blood right back into the bartender's face.

"Good girl!" you shout.

"Wrong," she tells the bartender. "I have a family, and they love me."

"Damn right we do," you add.

Yelling at you to shut up, the bartender drops his claws and fangs. But before he can make a move on you, Claire snaps the ropes around her like they're not even there and hits him from behind. Her fangs are down and her eyes have gone yellow, and superstrength comes as naturally to her as breathing.

The bartender's taller and almost twice her mass though, and it doesn't take long before he has her pinned to the floor. Almost the exact same way you did . . . God, yesterday.

"Claire look at me," you order. "Look at me!" Claire's terrified yellowed eyes lock with yours. "We are not the same as the things we hunt," you tell her, making every word distinct. "You hear me? We are not the same, and we must fight, every minute of every day, to prevent becoming so."

"Please, and you're so fucking civilized," the bartender sneers. "You kill helpless people that never hurt anybody, and in your world we're the monsters."

"You killed an eighteen year old boy, for meat," you retort. "Shove your moral judgements up you ass."

And that's when the door caves in, driven by a kick from Sam. Sam hits the bartender with a full body slam and they both go flying into a wall with a crunch. Dean's right behind him with a knife, and when he sees you he cuts you free with a few neat slices.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Fine. See to Claire," you say, working blood and feeling back into your numb limbs.

Dean helps Claire to her feet. "Claire?" Her head comes up, her mouth full of wolf fangs and her eyes shining gold and round. "Hey, easy, come on--"

She throws him into the wall. You leap onto her back but she grabs your arm and flips you to the floor. You roll out of the way just in time to avoid a punishing kick.

"Woah woah woah woah! Take it easy--" Dean tries again, deflecting a few clawing swipes. She manages a good one across his leg. Dean's trying his damndest to defend himself without hurting her but Claire's out of control and she's fast.

You grab a rope from the floor and throw it over her head, stopping just shy of enough force to choke her. You make yourself ignore her cries and hang on. "Guys--"

In the corner of your eye you see the bartender go down and Sam land on his back. "MICK, HURRY!"

Producing a syringe from God knows where, Mick stabs it into the bartender's back. The bartender whiplashes his head back, catching Sam in the nose and knocking him out cold. Mick grabs him in a sleeper hold but the bartender throws him off before Mick can get a good grip.

Claws rake over your side as Claire twists enough to reach, and you lose your grip. "HEY!" Dean shouts, and when Claire turns her attention that way Dean says, "Sorry kid," and lays her out with a punch in the jaw. The bartender lunges for Dean, and two gunshots ring out. The bartender drops, dead before he hits the floor.

Mick holsters his weapon and plucks the ampule full of blood off the bartender's back. "Find a vein," he snaps at you as he pulls a little zipper case out of his chest pocket.

"Right. Belt," you say to Dean and he yanks it off and hands it over. "Hold her down in case she comes to," and Dean rolls Claire to her back and drapes his torso over her hips. Sam's just coming around; he takes the situation in an eyeblink and holds down Claire's legs.

"She wanted this. Right?" Dean asks Sam.

"Oh yeah," Sam confirms.

You cinch Dean’s belt around Claire’s bicep. Thank God, Claire's got nice big veins. She's just starting to moan her way back to consciousness when Mick slips the needle in and injects the cure.

Claire's eyes blink wide. Her body convulses and everybody leaps away. Screaming in pain, she rolls to her knees and curls up in a tight little kowtow.

---

It goes on like that for the rest of the night. Dean sits backwards in one of the café chairs, blood crusted on his shredded pant leg. Sam gets out the scuffle with some bruised ribs and a monster headache. Mick's still favoring one arm from earlier and he's sporting a hell of a shiner. All three men look pale as cream, watching Claire writhing on the couch. You're bathing her forehead with cool washcloths and letting her scent your wrist. No idea if it's helping or making things worse, but you don't want her to feel you leaving.

"How long does this process take?" you ask Mick.

"I don't know!" he whisper-screams at you. "It could take hours or days!" You bite your lips to keep from asking, if Mick brought the tranquilizers and the silver nitrate. If this doesn't work you're going to do what you can to make sure Claire passes painless, going to sleep and never waking up.

Dean abruptly gets to his feet, muttering something about needing air. You could hate him in that moment, you really could. An Alpha has the luxury of display, you recall from the one comportment class your mother forced on you. An Omega must be made of sterner stuff.

Claire arches back as every muscle in her body seizes. She howls, long and agonal, and slumps back on the couch cushions.

You rest your fingers over Claire’s pulse. “Her heartbeat’s really irregular,” you report.

Mick nods. “Stand by to start chest compressions,” he says.

“Wait,” you say. Her jaw and mouth are shifting, subtly. “Claire?” you ask, as Sam yells for Dean and Dean bursts in through the ruined door. “Claire-ree, can you hear me? C’mon, open up those baby blues for us.”

Claire’s eyes flutter open. Pure blue, deep lakes and Midwestern skies. “You guys look like crap,” she croaks.

“You look worse,” you retort, and you and Claire share a painful little laugh.

---

With the resilience of the young, Claire’s back on her feet after a few hours sleep and a solid breakfast. “That girl is a walking miracle,” Mick notes the next morning as Claire stuffs her gear into her car.

“In many ways,” you agree. You and Claire had drunk a couple beers and gotten to talking as you'd worked together cleaning and dressing the claw marks on your side, the kind of girl talk you suspect she wouldn’t be comfortable having with the boys. In the process she’d told you about letting Castiel possess her, and watching her father begging to take her place. You’re still not sure how you feel about that; Cas is your brother now, but . . .

“Listen, uh,” Dean says to Mick, and you put away your brooding for now. “Thanks for the win back there.”

“So,” Mick says, sounding a little bit hopeful, “we’re good?”

“Not quite, but we’ll give you a second chance,” Sam replies.

“Just don’t fuck it up. There won’t be a third,” Dean adds.

“Okay,” Mick accepts.

“And we’re gonna want to know more about this Code,” you say.

Before Mick can formulate a response, Claire comes over. “Hey.”

“Hey. How you feeling?” Sam asks.

Claire smiles. She really is breathtakingly beautiful. “Honestly? I’m sort of craving a Milk Bone right now.” She swallows. “Look, um . . . what I said before . . . you guys are here when I need you, and that’s all that matters.”

“You gonna tell Jody what happened?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” Claire admits. You bite back your opinions; Claire already knows them and this isn’t the time for an argument. You stand by your remarks to Dean. Claire's a grown woman and has the right to decide how much she shares of her life.

“Well whatever you decide, we got your back,” Dean tells her. He opens his arms and Claire steps into them, letting him hold her close. Sam does the same; she looks tiny in his embrace. They’d make wonderful fathers, your boys, and it’s viciously unfair they’ll never get the chance.

You put your hand on Claire’s shoulder. She turns and throws her arms around you. “Here,” you hand her a card. “Anything you need, call me-- backup, expertise, someone to bitch to besides law enforcement.”

“I will,” Claire promises.

She looks over at Mick, who’s hanging back. She grabs him in a fierce hug. “Thank you,” she says.

Slowly, like a man who isn’t used to being touched, Mick’s arms go around her to hold her gently. “You’re very welcome, miss.” He touches the back of a knuckle to her cheek. “Take care of yourself Claire.”

“So!” Dean says as the four of you watch Claire get into her car, her phone held up to her ear, “that was fun.”

“’Bout as fun as a root canal,” you grumble. Baby growls up and the good guys pile in. “Homeward, Jeeves.”

---

“Oh God, fuck!” you cry out.

Dean’s beyond articulation, he's all animal grunts and moans. His hips snap into yours, burying all his cock inside you again and again. You force your knees apart so far you can feel tendons straining. Anything to get your mate closer, get more of him inside where he belongs.

As your arms collapse and your front end slumps over, Dean drags you upright. Those big, clever hands are everywhere. Everywhere he touches, the nerves fucking riot. If sex had ever felt anything near this good you don’t remember. You vaguely recall thinking, it was just a cycle, nothing you and Dean haven’t gone through already. You weren’t prepared for this. Your heat; it’s deeper, hungrier, now that it has a specific target. Not just Alpha. Your Alpha.

You cry out, “No!” when Dean suddenly withdraws.

“Wanna see your face,” he pants, flipping you onto your back. He pumps his cock once as he guides himself back to your soaked, slick pussy. You throw your legs up over his hips as he slides in, as he goes right back to fucking every single cell of your brains out. You cough out a giggle when Dean clonks his forehead to yours. “Shut up,” he heaves, holding your eyes to his with a hand on your jaw. They’re gleaming, the green deep and dark and beautiful.

You clamp yourself around Dean when you finally come, in a harsh burst of light and dark and just . . . force. Arms and legs and pussy, all of it holding him to you tight. “Oh baby,” you pant, almost weeping. That wasn’t a climax-- it was a fucking fusion explosion, the kind that ignites stars and sets galaxies whirling.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, panting like he just got done sprinting around the world. “Yeah.” Careful of your knotted together bodies, Dean rolls to his back. You shiver as he shifts inside you. God you're so . . . blown away the aftershocks almost hurt.

You lie together in warmth and quiet, as Dean’s knot eventually collapses and your cunt lets him go. Dean fluffs at your cropped hair, making you giggle and kiss over his heart.

“It keeps getting better,” you say.

“Mmm?” Dean grunts.

“Every time,” you say. “I keep thinking, yep, this is the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. And it keeps getting better. How do you even do that?”

Gleaming with pride, Dean kisses you. “Grading on a curve?”

Giggling, you smack his arm. “Oh knock it off, your ego’s big enough.”

“I didn’t think it’d be like this either,” Dean says. “I mean, I thought-- I mean, the closest thing I ever had to, y’know, this, was Lisa. And . . . I . . .” Dean trails off, searching for words. “I cared about her, a lot. Wasn’t like this. Not even close.”

“She’s a Beta, right?” you ask. Dean’s nothing if not a considerate lover but there’s still physical challenges involved when a knot goes near a hole not designed for it.

“Yeah. And that’s-- it’s part of it, yeah.” Dean goes quiet, one hand warm on your back. You’re fine with quiet. Who wants to hear about The Ex four seconds after getting their world rocked to the molten core? “It wasn’t real though. Not really. I wasn’t . . . me, then. I wanted it to be. But . . . it didn’t fit right, you know? I thought-- I thought I could just . . . not be me, when I was with them.”

"What's so awful about being you?" you ask.

Dean recoils a little. "You're kidding right?"

You look into his face. "Dude it's not your fault the forces of evil want to take a bite out of your ass. Shit, I applaud their good taste."

Dean scowls. "That's not funny."

"It's a little funny."

"Not."

You sigh. "You're never gonna completely forgive yourself for that whole situation are you?"

"I shouldn't," Dean says. "I mean, I swore-- I caught Ben playing around with one of my shotguns once, and I swore-- I swore, as long as I was around he'd never shoot a gun. Then Sam calls and what do I go and do? I run off. If I'd really cared about him, I would've told Sam to stick it--"

You snort. "Yeah, that's never happening. Look," you say, and hope like hell you're not sticking your foot in your mouth, "if it hadn't been Sam it would've been something else. You can't . . . I don't think you could turn your back on the bad guys forever. That doesn't make you bad. Not being suited for normal doesn't make you a bad man, man. You did the best you could with the shit situation you got handed to you."

"So did Dad," Dean says. "And look how that turned out."

"Don't say that," you tell him. "You're not personally responsible for the shit state of the world and you did the best you could to mitigate the damage. Baby you gotta let the rest go. As much of it as you can anyway." You stretch up and kiss him, gently.

“Anyway, what I started to say was . . .” Dean trails off again. “Loving you . . . I mean, being in love with you . . . I mean, it feels like it’s something that just is. I don’t have to worry about who I am when I’m with you. Because who I am-- that guy loves you. I think he always did.”

“Referring to ourselves in the royal we now?” you tease. As the words leave your mouth though, a tear falls out of your eye and splats down onto Dean’s chest.

“Fuck, baby, don’t cry--”

“I’m not,” you sniffle. “Post-world-rocked blowback.”

“I rocked your world?”

“Knocked the building down. You’re a mighty mountain shaking Alpha of a man, Dean Winchester.”

That gets your face seized in a fierce kiss, Dean speaking with his body the way he does when the words won’t come. You answer him with yours as best you can, kissing along his jaw and down his neck. Love and family-- after years of living on the shallow sips of professional acquaintance, you’re knelt by an oasis drinking deep. Water and shade and flowers under the desert sun.

You smile against Dean’s mouth. Dammit, love’s making your flowery. But beneath the sweet metaphors and soft feelings is something hard and watchful, and it makes a decision right about the time Dean buries his head between your legs and has you for dessert.

---

In your experience, it’s always a table for two in a dim and quiet restaurant. The other person is always an older gentleman with courtly manners and dead eyes. He sips tea from a Russian style glass-in-metal cup. “You have been our friend for many years and never asked for anything in return. Then you ask for a very large favor and come to ask another.”

“That’s right.” Unnecessary talk isn’t welcome here. You’re an ally, not a confidant-- best for all concerned it stays that way.

The elderly gentleman takes a baranki as you decant more tea from the samovar on the table. The scent of citrus and sugar floats on the rising steam. “Steadfast friendship should be rewarded. Tell me what you need.”

You outline the situation, noting the lack of surprise in the elderly gentleman’s face. That could mean a lot of things though. Or it could mean nothing. The elderly gentlemen do not reveal their feelings, certainly not to you. “I need to know everything. Their leadership, their history. Their allies and their enemies. Assets and liabilities. Everything.”

“This is a very large favor,” the elderly gentleman notes again.

“Too large?” you ask.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He studies you a moment, with the eyes of a scientist examining a cell as it dies on a microscope’s slide. “May I know why you agreed to collaborate with these . . . Men Of Letters if you do not trust them?”

“Because on the face of it, they’re right. Centralization and coordination would let us push back against the enemy in ways we can’t working alone. Honestly, I’m probably just being paranoid.”

“Your instincts have guided you true for many years now. They are worth listening to.” The elderly gentleman thaws, just a little. “You must love him very much.”

It’s a fact, that’s all. Peg’s friends need to know. “With every fiber of my being.”

The elderly gentleman nods. “We will do what we can for you. I must ask this-- does your mate know of your association with us?”

“He knows I have allies I haven’t told him about and that I do them favors,” you say. “I’ll have to tell him the rest someday.”

“You will warn us before you do.” It’s not a request and you nod. The elderly gentleman finishes his tea and rises, bending to kiss your cheeks. “Shchisleevava putee.”

“Spasibo. Do svidanya.”

You linger over your tea a while after he leaves. We must be what we are, else we become our enemies, another elderly gentleman had said to you once, the first time your impulse for pity backfired and people died. We are not the same as the things we hunt, and must fight every minute of every day to never become so, your own voice many times over the years-- in plea, in instruction, in explanation.

Your continued relations with the monstrous people is in service of an older, darker truth. One of the harsh things you and Dean share. The grease on the slippery slope, the bed under the road paved with good intentions.

There is nothing beneath me when it comes to protecting my family.

---

AN2: Russian: "Safe journey." "Thank you. Goodbye."

The Battle of Cassino was an attempt by the Allies to neutralize enemy positions around the historic Benedictine abbey on top of Monte Cassino, part of the larger campaign to capture Rome. To make a very long story short, it was a bloody affair that took four months and ended with roughly 75,000 total casualties. Allied forces finally captured the abbey on May 18, 1944. Rome itself fell on June 4.

Starting to go seriously AU, so the next installment might not be for a while. Don't worry, we're not done here. Not by a long shot.

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ratwhsprs · 5 months ago

Note

Even though it had been a while since his last visit to Pauli's, Khare really was happy to see Otis back again. A chicken sandwich and tray of fresh curly fries soon found its way to the small redhead who (in her opinion), looked like he'd been missing out on more than his fair share of hot meals lately. Arkham, she shuddered when she finally got it out of him as to where he'd been all this time and figured maybe a distraction from that awful place might help as much as a hot meal. "So, uh... two truths and a lie? Sure, why not. It's been a while since we last saw each other, sooo..." Khare thought hard as she filled up his glass with his chosen beverage. "Not long after I started working here, some punks thought it would be hilarious to throw me into Gotham Bay. I have a sparkling pink Tamagotchi, one of the ORIGINAL models instead of those crappy, uhh, pix, they're called?" Geeze, she was picking some great ones tonight, stuff Otis would hardly be interested in. Unless... "And the rat you picked up from here a while back, that was uhhh, a boy. Yeah, a boy rat!" She added confidently. One of those statements was a big fat lie, and knowing Otis, he'd know exactly which one.

Two Truths and a Lie || Accepting!

It was amazing the good a hot meal could do when you'd had weeks of lukewarm if not straight up cold ones. After this he knew he'd want to find somewhere safe and secure to sleep for a day now that the heat from the searching cops was dying off. He took another bite as he listened, already trying to suss out the lie even with only two questions. At least until–

He looked up at her, brow furrowed slightly.

“What do you mean? That rat was female. She had her pups about a week after you gave her to me.”

“...”

“Did some punks really throw you in the bay??”

#Answered #oculusxcaro

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lookingupatthesamemoon · 10 months ago

Text

janAUary #2 - fake dating

pairing: Beatrix x Ralph Cifaretto

summary: Beatrix has been told time and time again to never give Ralph the time of day. Of course, she thinks it’s funnier not to listen.

word count: 2.1k

author’s note: this is essentially somewhat of a reimagining of part of a fic i wrote this summer. it takes place near the end of sopranos season 3. Mack, Tony’s gf in this fic, is the s/i of a friend of mine :) banner is from @saradika

“Let me think about that and I’ll get back to you,” Beatrix said smugly. “Now, are you gonna order something or are you just gonna pester me all night?”

“Oh! Is that what you think of me? I’m a pest?” Ralph teased. “Why don’t you pour me a martini? Extra olives, and I mean extra!”

“A martini?” She asked, stifling a laugh. “That’s kind of a girly drink, no?”

Shockingly, rather than getting mad, he just cracked a joke back. “Hey, I prefer to call it metrosexual. Goes with my whole look, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does,” Beatrix replied. “Is this enough olives?” She asked, sliding the drink over to him.

“Hit me with a few more.”

She obliged, plopping another two, three, four olives into his drink before he was satisfied. Eight olives? Maybe he was a mad man after all. She watched him curiously as he stuck one with the toothpick, grabbing it in his teeth and sucking it into his mouth. She almost shivered - she hated olives.

Bea’s thoughts were interrupted by the bar’s phone ringing. She held a finger up at Ralphie as she went to pick it up, answering as pleasantly as possible. Upon picking it up, she heard Mackenzie on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Beatrix! Got a sec?” Mackenzie asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah, Mack, what’s up?”

“Well, I was just talking with Tony about this dinner thing we were setting up, and we wanted to invite you,” Mackenzie explained. “I don’t know how busy you are, but it’s Friday night if you wanted to come. I figured it would be nice to catch up some more, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely! Who’s gonna be there?” Beatrix inquired, already putting the pieces together.

“Well, me and Tony will be there, obviously, and then, um, Paulie and Ralph and whatever girls they bring. Oh, and Silvio, but I don’t think you’ve met him yet.”

“Okay, yeah… I’ll be there, Mack, count me in,” she smiled.

“Yay! Okay, so, we’ll be at Nuovo Vesuvio at eight on Friday - you know how to get there, right?”

“Yeah, I know where it is. Okay, I’ll see you, Mack.”

As she hung up the phone, she turned back around to face Ralph, who had very clearly been eavesdropping on her conversation.

“Was that Mackenzie?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she was inviting me to the same dinner you just tried to.”

“Decisions, decisions, huh?”

“Well… I’m thinking we could kind of play around with everybody, you know?” Beatrix suggested, grinning deviously. “Look… I’ll just say, I’ve been advised against going out with you.”

“Oh, so they’ve been plotting against me here since I walked in the door, huh?” He chuckled.

“Exactly,” Beatrix nodded. “They know you’re coming with a date, they just don’t know who. So, I’m thinking… we should go together. It’ll freak ‘em out, you know? We’ll make sure to be the last two there, make an entrance, rub it in their faces a little? Let ‘em know they were wrong?”

“You know, I gotta say, Trixie… I like it,” Ralphie responded, taking a sip of his olive-overloaded martini. “Someone’s gotta remind ‘em that when you assume, you make an ass outta you and me, huh?”

“I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we walk in together,” Beatrix laughed. “I don’t know why they’ve been making you out to be, I don’t know, a monster, or something. You’re more like a puppy dog I could keep in my purse. A feisty one, though.”

Ralph chuckled, taking another sip of his drink. He knew, perhaps, by the standards of other people, he was a monster. But what Beatrix didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right? He watched her as she scrubbed at the back counter, popping another olive into his mouth. She wouldn’t go out with him for money, but she would go out with him out of spite? “So, we callin’ this a date, or what?”

“I don’t know that I would call it that,” Beatrix scoffed, a small smile gracing her face. “But, if you wanna call it that, go ahead. I’ll wear something nice, you’ll get to live out your little fantasy… It’ll be fun.”

And so, as Friday night rolled around, Beatrix found herself waiting around outside the Crazy Horse on her night off for Ralph Cifaretto to pick her up and take her to dinner. She had dressed up a bit - not for Ralph, of course, but to help with her commitment to the bit. She sighed, feeling the straps of her silky red dress sagging off her shoulders within the sleeves of her jacket. She opted out of wearing tights, but as the winter wind nipped at her calves, she began to regret her decision. In fact, maybe this whole night was a stupid idea. Before she could make up her mind about bailing, though, Ralph’s car finally pulled up. She watched him as he swiftly got out of the car, coming over to greet her. As she took a step towards him, she stumbled, her feet still not used to the heels she was wearing.

“Fallin’ for me, huh?” He chuckled, offering an arm to keep her stable. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks,” Beatrix smiled. “You’re not bad yourself.”

“So, what’s our plan here?” He asked, his hands on her waist, their faces dangerously close.

“Why don’t you get me in your car first and we’ll go from there.” She smiled as she lowered herself into the passenger seat, to which he had so kindly opened the door for her. There was a certain air of giddiness between them both in the car, almost like they were teenagers about to score. Ralph clearly wanted to put the work in, as if things would become real if he tried hard enough. As much as Beatrix didn’t want to admit it to herself, it might have worked if he played his cards right.

“We should park further back,” Beatrix insisted as they approached the restaurant. Ralph looked over at her quizzically, relatively used to having prime parking at Vesuvio’s. “Well, we gotta keep an eye out for everyone else’s cars right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but then we got a longer walk… Whattya want us to be late?” Ralph whined.

“Fashionably,” she smirked. “Come on, Ralphie,” she pouted.

“Alright, alright,” Ralph sighed, pulling into a spot in the back half of the lot. “See how easy I fold for you?”

“Oh, please… So, what’s our excuse gonna be for getting in late?”

“… We could tell ‘em we were fuckin’”

“Yeah, right,” Beatrix laughed. “As if they’d believe I’d let you touch me.”

“Whatever… You know, I could get just about any girl in Jersey, but it’s you I’m after - doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Ralph… I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, between Rosalie and your reputation… I can’t get involved. Besides, is it really that good to get all your girls with money? Don’t you want something better than that?”

“Sure, but, it ain’t that easy… I guess I’ve never exactly been the most lovable guy.”

Beatrix looked over at him, face full of pity. She put her hand on his knee as a sign of support, gently rubbing it with her fingers. By now, she was starting to care a little less about blurring the lines. Besides, she was about to play the role of his girlfriend for the evening - maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to start getting into character early.

“Come on, we don’t have to have this conversation,” he sighed. “I just saw Paulie go inside, we should probably follow suit, huh?”

“Yeah, let’s go. Let’s show them what they’re all afraid of. When we walk in there, I’m your girlfriend.”

He got out of the car, grinning slightly as he made his way over to the passenger side to help Beatrix out as quickly as he could. She couldn’t help but crack a smile, genuine this time, watching him get all nervous. She took his hand graciously, pretending for a moment that this really was serious as Ralph pulled at her. They walked briskly as they entered the restaurant, Ralph leading the way to he and his friends’ usual table, never dropping Beatrix’s hand. As the table came into his sight, he moved his arm to her waist, leaning down very briefly to whisper a “follow my lead” into her ear.

In the distance, Tony and Mackenzie immediately recognized Ralph as he weaved between other patrons. “Christ, here he comes, finally,” Tony muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I think I see Beatrix, too, coming behind him,” Mackenzie remarked. “Thank God she finally made it, I was starting to worry.”

It was only as Ralph and Beatrix approached the table, laughing together about God knows what, their hands already all over each other, that Mack and Tony began to put the pieces together.

“Ton’, everybody, I am so sorry we’re late,” Ralph sighed as he arrived at his seat. “This one’s just insatiable! We completely lost track of the time playin’ tonsil tennis,” he snickered.

Beatrix smacked him playfully in the chest in response, her cheeks turning a slight pink at the thought. As if. As the two of them took their seats next to each other, Mackenzie and Tony just stared, almost dumbfounded. Two empty chairs remained: one to the left of Beatrix, and one to the right of Ralph. Mack couldn’t believe what she was seeing - Beatrix and Ralph? Did his ridiculous attempts at wooing her actually work? How did that happen? Her jaw was resisting the urge to drop. Tony was sporting his classic unimpressed expression - this is exactly what he had hoped wouldn’t happen.

“That’s a waste of two chairs!” Paulie commented, shaking his head.

“We would’ve told you ahead of time, but uh, we didn’t wanna ruin the surprise,” Ralph said, glancing over at Beatrix. She offered him a hand to hold once more, displaying their “love” for the others at the table. Mack almost gagged seeing it. She couldn’t stand Ralph - but she couldn’t tell Beatrix why.

Throughout the night, there was clear tension at the table, but Beatrix and Ralph were so caught up in playing pretend that it just rolled off their backs. It was what they wanted, to freak the others out. Once they had some wine down their gullets, it almost felt like they weren’t pretending anymore. Beatrix found herself hanging all over Ralph later into the night, playing the part so perfectly that she almost forgot it was supposed to be a one time thing. As much of a pest as Ralph could be, and whatever bad history he had, she couldn’t deny that she was enjoying his company.

Not too long after the dessert round, the group decided to call it a night. The meal was through, and the tension between Tony and Ralph was becoming hard to simply ignore. Sometimes, as Beatrix was starting to put together, the DiMeo crime family had to be handled like a clique of high school girls - let whatever petty drama was happening play out, and within a matter of days, they’re having sleepovers and wearing matching outfits again. They would probably cool down by morning. As everyone was walking outside, saying their goodbyes to each other with hugs and handshakes, Tony pulled Beatrix aside.

“Hey, Beatrix,” he started. “Look, I know you don’t know me too well, but, uh, and any friend of Mackenzie’s is good in my book. I just, uh, I wanted to let you know… If you would rather, you know, not ride home with Ralphie, for whatever reason, Mackenzie and I can-“

Before he could finish his offer, Ralph strolled back over, slinging his arm around Beatrix’s waist. She smirked, turning to kiss him, perhaps a little too passionately for a fake date. He looked at her in shock, his expression quickly turning smug as he remembered Tony’s presence. “Whattya say, toots, you ready to go?” He asked.

Beatrix simply nodded, giving a short wave to Tony and Mack as she and Ralph began to head back to his car. His arm remained around her waist far after they had left everyone’s view. The cold air had sobered him up enough to drive, but as he helped Beatrix into the passenger seat, he decided maybe they should just sit for a minute.

“That was nice,” Beatrix smiled. “Maybe I should give you a serious try.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Call me next week, maybe we can go for round two.”

#janauary2024 #rye writes !#self ship #ship: gladiator's paradise #suggestive #< not like super just a brief mention but still tagging just in case

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woozapooza · 1 year ago

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Miscellaneous post-s4 Sopranos thoughts

I’m still trying to figure out why so many viewers hate Meadow so much. She’s had her moments of selfishness and immaturity and even cruelty, but she's been improving. In 4x12, she comes off very mature and gracious, whereas her mother keeps picking fights with her and refusing to take the opportunities Meadow gives her to talk about what’s bothering her.

Actually, Tony was surprisingly mature in that episode as well, at least in familial matters. Sure, early on he complained that Carmela could be “a moody bitch” (you’re one to talk, king), but in the rest of the episode he actually does a pretty good job being a diplomat between his wife and daughter. In my journal entry for this episode (I’ve been doing one for every episode since partway through season 3) I wrote “he put the bar on the floor, then he sailed over it.”

It didn’t last long, though. He was back to being despicable in 4x13, whereas I can’t think of a single moment in 4x13 where I wasn’t cheering for poor Carmela.

One of like a million ways Christopher mirrors Tony: in 4x13, he says that while he doesn't intend to apologize to the people his addiction hurt, he might send flowers or money in a few cases. Those are both things Tony has given in lieu of actually making things right: earlier this season, he sent Melfi flowers after blowing up at her about Gloria’s death, and last season, when he felt bad about getting the cop that ticketed him demoted, he tried to slip him some cash. Neither Melfi nor the cop was receptive to these gestures. He’s had better luck buying Carmela’s forgiveness, or at least forbearance, but even she’s getting sick of it: Whitecaps is "just a bigger version of an emerald ring, so you can keep on with your other life.”

Another character in the same boat, thematically speaking, as Tony and Christopher is Paulie. In 4x12, he tries to blame his fall from grace in Tony’s eyes on Silvio: “It's your fault anyway. All this shit started with that Russian prick when I had to go pick up your $5,000.” As if it’s Silvio’s fault that Paulie bungled that mission! (That reminds me, I still haven’t written the Pine Barrens post I want to write.) Then again, I’m not sure Paulie really believes what he’s saying. He’s just lashing out because he’s mad at Silvio for (very gently) warning him that “certain people are starting to wonder where your heart is.” That’s the sort of thing Tony does all the time: dredge up flimsy old grievances as a shield against completely reasonable criticisms of him.

Oh, speaking of Silvio, I really enjoyed his little moments of rebellion against Tony earlier in the season (“No Show” and “Christopher” are the only examples I can think of). I hope that theme comes back in the future.

I don’t understand why Johnny hasn’t said anything about Paulie to Carmine! The mob politics are very interesting but I’m usually just barely following what’s going on. Well, maybe it will become clear.

I ended up really enjoying Ralphie! I miss him.

To be honest, I don’t care about Junior that much. He’s fine when he’s just interacting with other characters, but I don’t really care about his storyline. Most of the time, when there’s a Junior-centric scene, I’m just waiting to get back to the characters I actually care about (i.e., almost everyone else).

I read in a review of “From Where to Eternity” that Michael Imperioli has been criticized for giving his own character too big a role in the episodes that he wrote. I told this to my friend who’s watching the show along with me, and we both agreed that we would never criticize him for that because Christopher is one of the most interesting characters and we can’t get enough of him. Well, I’ve now seen four out of the five Imperioli episodes, and not one of them has put enough weight on Christopher for this criticism to make sense, so what the fuck? Where are these Christopher-heavy episodes we were promised? “Marco Polo” had better deliver, or I may cry.

Melfi is only in eight out of thirteen episodes next season because David Chase hates me personally and wants me to suffer. However, I read online that back when the show was airing, some people thought that Tony quitting therapy was Chase preparing to remove Melfi from the show entirely, so I guess I should count my blessings that he didn’t go that route. God, I’m so in love with her. She’s so incredibly important to me.

#The Sopranos #Anna watches The Sopranos #Anna watches tv #x

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 2 years ago

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Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter Eighteen: Introductions Made

Summary- 3.9k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. You and Claude might be playing matchmaker. When they do take an interest, Curtis suddenly finds himself with more time on his hands.

Warnings- Phone sex and discussing the use of toys.

A/N- As always, Thank you all so much for reading and sharing this little series. I appreciate whenever I get to hear what anyone is thinking about these two and how they navigate a building relationship. Thank you @what-is-your-plan-today for taking the time to beta this project for me. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

Chapter Seventeen / Masterlist

You pondered at Curtis’s kitchen table, papers scattered all around, your reading glasses half slid down your nose as you leaned over with a pen poised in your hand, glancing over essays. Or that is what you were supposed to be doing. But, you had something more important distracting you.

Claude happened to bring up the newest addition to the middle school team, Yona. In particular how sweet, smart, funny, and kind the soft-spoken teacher’s aide was and how she thought that there was someone you both knew who would probably really like getting to know her- Edgar.

Things between you and Edgar had changed, immensely after that Halloween party, for the better. You two had gotten to actually know one another now that you were a frequent member at Paulie’s for game nights. Yes, he could be hot-headed and run his mouth too far as he proved at your party. But, he also grew a pair and came out to apologize with sincerity, that you were sure of. Now the man would give you the shirt off his back if he thought you needed it. He also proved himself to be funny and caring, a bit shy whenever complimented. You were rather fond of the man now.

Yona was much more of an observer and tended to be more cautious with things. Claude thought this would be a moment where perhaps opposites attract. Now that Claude put that thought in your head, it wouldn’t stop rolling around up there.

“How’re the papers going?” Curtis questioned from behind you, startling you a moment to glance over your shoulder to see him coming in from the garage. His hands were covered in what looked like car oil. “Can you get the sink for me so I don’t touch anything?”

“Slow… slower than I like.” You answered his question as you went to turn on the hot water and go under the sink to find the special mechanics degreaser soap.

“What are the papers about this time?” He had you pump several squirts of the soap in his hands before he started to scrub at them.

“The winter ecosystem and hibernation of local wildlife.” You went back to the table to sit back down. “Simple enough, but… I need your thoughts on an entirely different matter.”

“Shoot.” Curtis scrubbed at his nails with a brush before he was satisfied that they were clean once more. Cleaning up around the sink, he turned to dry his hands on a hand towel.

“Edgar ever have any serious girlfriends?”

“Edgar? Um- not for a hell of a long time.” Curtis pondered, trying to remember his last serious girlfriend. “At least for a couple years. He was with one girl, but she moved away. He has had dates, but never anyone he was serious about. Why?”

“Well, there is this woman who started just before Christmas named Yona. She just moved here, really sweet and kind woman. I was gonna mention to Claude about maybe inviting her to Paulie’s, and see if she wants to join in on one of our game nights.”

Curtis listened closely while settling in the chair across from you. “If you think she would like to hang with us Honey, invite her. I know Edgar showed his ass back at Halloween, but if you trust him, he would probably love to meet Yona. I know he misses having someone, you know?”

“I picked up on that.” You plucked your pen back up to start working on the papers once more, only having a couple more to go. “He did say he was jealous of you before.”

“Well…” Curtis moved to a stand, sliding his hand under your chin to tilt your head back to look up at him. “I would be jealous too if I let you get away from me.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully, but couldn't hold back the way it made you grin all proud as he dropped a kiss to you. “Good thing you saw me first?”

“Remind me to thank Gilliam for that. You almost done?”

“Just a couple more, I just gotta focus.” You blinked up at him.

“Okay, let’s go out to dinner tonight when you’re done.” Another nipping kiss had you pushing your hand lightly against his chest.

“You gotta let me finish then, stop being a distraction, Curtis.” He caught one more protesting kiss before backing up with his hands in the air in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Come find me when you are ready.” He grinned while retreating into the living room, you waited a few seconds before leaning forward in your chair, looking around the corner to see him grabbing a book and settling in the recliner he preferred to read in while waiting for you.

“I promise you will have a good time,” Claude assured Yona while you went up the stairs to Paulie’s and held open the door. You two had managed to coax Yona to come to game night to meet the guys. It took a little convincing but she relented when you and Claude both offered up rounds of beers. Somehow the guys made out on this deal too.

Yona followed you up the stairs and stepped inside, glancing around. “Looks like a grungy sports bar with cold beers and greasy food.” You nodded since she basically nailed Paulie’s on the head. “I already love it.”

“Did Y/N tell you about her first trip here?” Claude smirked as she stepped in behind Yona and you let the door shut behind you.

“Met your boyfriend here, didn’t you?” Yona inquired and you shrugged.

“Actually I met him on a school trip, but we did run into each other again here and had a fun night. “ You glanced around, looking for Curtis, Edgar or Gray. “According to Curtis it was our first date, but I say it wasn't.”

“Why not? “

“Because he never asked me out that time. We ran into each other.”

“Fucking fate is what it was.” Claude leaned against the bar. “Paulie, where are the guys?”

“Out in the back room.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “They already have drinks back there waiting. Maybe. They already came out once for refills.”

You led them around the bar and disappeared through the kitchen and into the back store room that Paulie set up for you guys to practice throwing axes You could hear the three of them debating near the large bullseye.

“Yeah, it veers to the left because you are not throwing straight Curtis.” Edgar stated while studying the implanted hatchet.

“I bumped my shoulder the other night.” He admitted, his hand lifting to rub at his shoulder. “Must still be sore.”

You hid a grin, knowing full well why he bumped his shoulder. The two of you tumbled out of bed right in the middle of making out and Curtis had managed to wedge himself between you and the floor before you both landed. You felt awful at the moment as he hissed in pain, scrambling off to sit next to him, half-undressed while he laughed hard, assuring you that he was okay.

You certainly didn’t see anything funny about what just happened, worried that you had really hurt him but he pulled you back to him, kissing and pulling you against him till you were lost in the haze that being with him brought. “Get your ass back up on the bed Honey, we weren’t finished.” You never got off the floor so fast in your life. Curtis right behind you, rolling the two of you back together, making you laugh at his enthusiasm.

Next morning, he was lame.

“Well now I know how I can win against you.” Grey joked. “Gotta maim you.”

“Fuck off Grey, you been ahead in points since Christmas.” Curtis flipped him off while you three entered the room, breaking up the debate as all three of them saw your small group coming in.

“Hey guys…” You paused to sling your arm encouraging around your friend. “This is Yona, Claude and I work with her.”

“Hi, Yona.” They rang out in unison, making the woman next to you laugh with her own greeting back.

“This is Grey.” Claude pointed him out. “Curtis is that tall brute next to him.” Then she sauntered over to Edgar, taking his hand, not being too subtle at all as she pulled the man forward. “And this is Edgar.”

Edgar blushed wildly, making him look cute and boyish at that moment. “It’s nice to meet you Yona.” His hand slipped into hers when she offered it, giving a shake. His hand swallowed hers but just watching them, you had a feeling that Yona had the upper hand.

“You too Edgar, what were you guys doing?”

“Throwing hatchets, do you want to try?” Edgar perked up, Curtis wrapped his arms around you, invested as well in the interaction.

“Absolutely.” Yona set her purse down on the table and wriggled out of her winter coat. You watched as Edgar set about finding her some hatchets. Curtis tugged on your jacket, encouraging you to slip it off and settle in for game night.

“I like her.” He admitted, still listening to her and Edgar talk while they both took up spots to throw with hatchets in hand.

“I knew you would.” You said softly back while turning to face him, eyeing his shoulder. “Is it still really sore?”

“Nah, just stiff.” He rolled his shoulders, wincing a bit. “Okay, A little bit. You gonna kiss and make it better?” A wriggle of his eyebrows disappeared under his black beanie. He looked so hopeful at that moment, you had to give him a little something to ponder.

“Will do more than kiss it better.” Giving a wink, you took his hand in yours and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “But not till later, we have all night.” You tugged him closer to the throwing line so you could watch Yona’s and Edgar's throws, Curtis groaning behind you.

“Later? Honey you want me to hold out that long?”

“Hold out for what?” Claude piped up, her eyes teasing at Curtis while you let Curtis engulf you, his arms draped around you and his chest pressing against your back, his groin pressing half-hard against you.

“Exactly what you think.” Curtis retorted while Claude cackled, you scoffed and looked up at him.

“Behave.”

“Make me.” His grin was wickedly teasing, you let yourself lean back into him while Edgar lined up his shot and swung his arm to send the hatchet spinning in a blur but it planted into the bullseye very close to its intended target. “Damn, keep going and you are gonna be hitting those dead center.” Curtis complimented and you gave a small squeeze to his hand in a thank you. You knew Curtis didn’t give them out to Edgar, not often since Halloween and you hated the rift between the two of them, even though Edgar had been wildly out of line that night.

Edgar shrugged, trying to brush it off while Grey and Claude added their own input, but you saw the little secret smile he hid when he ducked his head, stepping aside for Yona to throw. Yona approached with some apprehension. Everyone started to yell encouraging, but Edgar motioned for you all to pipe it down. You muffled yourself in Curtis’s arm, still watching as she made her throw.

And it landed so close to Edgar’s, even though it did bounce off, that you and Claude cheered. Grey and Curtis exchanged glances, grinning at one another. “Let her throw again,” Curtis mentioned. “And give her one of those sharper ones.”

“Yeah!” Edgar went to grab another, this one gleaming with a fresh blade as he carefully handed it over. “Throw it again, Yona.”

“Why did you give me a dull one before?” she quizzed him and Edgar shrugged.

“It was the first one I grabbed that looked like would be a good fit for you.” Edgar tried explaining hurriedly to defend himself, you saw the flash of nerves across his face that he might have screwed up. Yona giggled and bumped her shoulder against him, breaking the seconds of tension.

“I’m just teasing.” She whirled up to send that one flying. It was closer to the bullseye and stayed in the board this time.

You all gasped in surprise and Edgar rushed right over to check it, wrenching the hatchet out while placing a marker in the spot. “You are good at this.”

She shrugged, this time she came off as a bit shy. “Ah, well I did archery every summer at my family’s camp.” She collected the hatchet in Edgar’s hand and swooped down to pick up the first one that dropped. “I have really good aim.”

Curtis, who was still behind you, watching the interaction dropped his mouth to your ear, whispering softly. “Oh yeah, I really like this friend. Edgar does too.” Your eyes flickered to Claude who was whispering excitedly to Grey, the man nodding in agreement with what she was saying.

In the following weeks, Edgar and Yona started to see one another outside of the group. Curtis certainly noticed a change in his friend. He stopped being sullen about things, more enthusiastic and exuberant at work. Although whenever Grey or Curtis mentioned getting together at Paulie’s, Edgar had an excuse for why he couldn’t go out.

That made Curtis home more often as Grey was also going out with Claude when he wasn’t spending his evenings with Sophia. You as well were busy with after-school programs involved in coaching students who were struggling with their studies. It turned into late nights in his garage working on the Camaro till he wandered up to his bedroom to shower, read and share a few messages with you before bed.

You offered to come over afterward, but Curtis knew how busy and tired you were. Not to mention the fact your apartment was a lot closer to the school. As a compromise, you always made sure to call him while you were getting ready for bed.

“I have our flight booked for Florida.” He could hear you shifting the blankets around and the creak of your bed as you got in. He also heard the unsaid questioning part in your statement.

“I’m ready for some sunshine, sand, and sex with my girl.” He teased as he flopped on his bed, having taken a shower earlier and set the heater for the night, he was just wandering his bedroom in his boxers now, ready to crash after you said goodnight to him. You laughed at his statement, relieved sounding.

“Sunshine, sand and sex actually sounds really good.” You gave a little moan in the phone, more rustling of your beading, and Curtis could hear the soft hitch of your breath.

“You tired tonight Honey?”

“No…”

“But I hear it in your voice, what is it you are wanting?” Curtis questioned, his legs stretching out as he leaned against the headboard, waiting for your answer.

“I miss you.” You said hesitantly. “I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever now. I’m sorry, I know it is because of my stuff at the school we haven't.”

“I miss you too, Honey. I know we were supposed to meet up with everyone at Paulie’s, but what if we just spent the evening together this weekend?” Curtis knew it was late, and both of you would be up at the crack of dawn, but he had to make the offer. For you, he would make that drive. “What if I came over now Honey?”

“No.” You said firmly, being the more reasonable to the two of them. “Friday is your early day so you can’t be late and I will just be passing out after talking to you.”

“You, Pretty Girl, are such a teacher.” Curtis teased. “All responsible. Fine, fine… I could help you go to sleep though.”

“Well I am, but seriously Curtis, you would just be coming here to cling to the edge of my small bed and not get a good nights sleep.”

“Your bed isn’t that small.”

“Smaller then your king size one.” You giggled and almost shyly inquired his other proposal. “How are you going to make me fall asleep?”

His sweet little Honey, how he wished he was there to see your reaction to what he was offering.

“We have never had phone sex Pretty Girl.” There was that whine of surprise, a bit needy and he assumed it was from him using Pretty Girl.

There was silence, but then a tiny breathy “Oh.” reached him. “No, we haven't done that.”

“We don’t have to if you are not in the mood.” Curtis offered, giving you an easy out if you were not interested.

“No! Um- I’m very much in the mood Curtis.” Your bed creaked once more as you wriggled around in your covers Curtis guessed from the sounds you were making on the other end.

“Just relax Y/N, I got you.” Curtis tilted his head back, letting his eyes close so he could picture you laying in your own bed. “What are you wearing Honey?”

“Um, well I am wearing your Highway To Hell tee.” That made Curtis smile, knowing you were wrapped up in his clothing.

“I left it there for you to use Pretty Girl. Where do you want to touch yourself first, close your eyes and picture it, talk to me.” He was patient, not pushing you further. But he could picture you trying to work through your thoughts, the way your expression would go from unsure to exited at the challenge.

“My thighs, sliding my hands along the tops of them.”

“You do have beautiful thighs.” Curtis started, his free hand rubbing down his bare chest and belly to rest above the bend of his boxers. “I love feeling how soft they are as they wrap around me and squeeze.” Your breath hitched at his words, he swore he heard a touch of a whine in your voice.

“Then to my inner thighs, my hands are not as good as yours though. Or your beard.” You tone started to sound breathy, like you were headed towards something.

Curtis ran a hand against his chin, rasping it enough so you could hear it. Your breath hitched just as he hoped. “You like my beard rubbing against your skin, marking you all over Pretty Girl?”

“Yes!” you said with enthusiasm, Curtis cussed under his breath hearing you and moved his hand under the band of his boxers to press his palm against his throbbing cock. “Run your face up and down my thighs.”

“Play with your tits Pretty Girl, I know you love your nipples licked and sucked on.” Curtis wrapped his fingers around himself, squeezing lightly, resisting jerking himself off listening to you for now. “Push your shirt up off yourself.”

A rustling started in the phone and then you started whimpering. “I do love when you suck on me like that.” You sounded so sweet, making Curtis grunt lightly as he pulled his hard throbbing cock out, fisting himself tighter.

“Honey, I would be pulling and sucking on them, kissing all over till you were covered. One day I will fuck your breasts.” He jerked himself, pushing his legs up to brace his feet against his mattress.

“Your big fat cock pushing through my tits.” You encouraged him. Curtis let his head fall back, letting himself get lost in the moment listening to you. “I want you too.” Your voice drifted off a moment. “I have to touch myself.”

“Do it Pretty Girl, you must be wet now.”

“Uh-huh.” Curtis recognized that tone, the soft wail starting to build up, the sound of you rubbing your clit. “I want you inside me. To feel you on top of me, holding me down.”

“Trust me Honey, I will be soon.” Curtis felt himself shudder hearing you, his cock throbbing, needing to release. He worked his hand harder, chasing that feeling that burned in his belly.

“Have you underneath me feeling so good.”

“Hands pinned back?” Your covers rustled in the phone like you were kicking them off. The sound of your whines and moans coming more frequently, your fingers now burying into you from the sounds of it. Curtis could just picture you, your thighs spread open and your fingers pushing into your heat till you were messy sounding, your pussy squelching with every squeeze around your digits.

“Fuck I will tie you up if it will get you off Honey.” Curtis hissed into the phone. “Fuck-” His hips chased his fist, his cum starting to shoot over his hand. You were quiet a moment, just soft pleading whines coming through.

“Did you come?”

“Yes Pretty Girl.” He exhaled deeply. “Your turn Honey. You are so good, always feel so good squeezing my cock Honey, feel yourself squeezing your fingers.”

“Its’s not as good as your cock though.” You sighed in frustration and his phone ruffled a moment. Then a buzz came through. Curtis couldn’t help but grin that you must have gotten a toy.

“Pretty Girl, have you been holding out on me?”

You sounded sheepish on the phone. “Well, I haven't needed anything since being with you.”

“Well damn Honey, glad to have been of service. But I think should take some of those out next time I’m over. Let me hear you Pretty Girl, I wanna hear you feel good.”

You started softly, rebuilding back up, but within minutes you were chanting Curtis’s name and crying out in need. “You’re so close Honey, fuck you sound so good you are gonna get me hard again” When you came, Curtis started praising you, telling you how good you did for him, that he couldn’t wait to see you.

You said his name with a curious tone. “Curtis… you really don’t care about the toys?”

That surprised him for a moment. His brow furrows in his confusion. “No? I think that we should start using them if you didn’t mind. Why?”

“Well… I have known others to be jealous of me having them.” You stated cautiously and Curtis would have been willing to put money on who exactly that would have been.

“Honey, toys don’t bother me. You want them, then you should have them. Damn, I will buy you some when I find out what you like.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“No, I don’t have to but I sure as fuck want to. I would never tell you that you can’t have them anymore, or ever care if you used them. If you are worried about me feeling jealous of some toys, don’t. I’m not at all concerned that I’m not pleasing you. Adding toys will just make it that much better for us.” He pointed out.

“You are really okay with this.” You stated almost incredulously.

“Y/N, I’m serious, It doesn’t bother me.” Curtis stated. You yawned into the phone, making him speak up. “I am gonna say goodnight though Honey, you have an early day.”

“I’m not tired… much.” You rebutted. “But you are right. Thank you Curtis.”

“Thank you Honey, it was good hearing you even if I can’t be with you. Goodnight Pretty Girl.”

You groaned into the phone in exasperation, making Curtis chuckle. “Goodnight, sweet dreams.”

"Trust me, will be dreaming about loving up on you. Talk tomorrow Beautiful."

#life is short so make it sweet #curtis and honey #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett and reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett and you #curtis everett x plus sized reader #curtis everett and plus sized reader #curtis everett au #curtis everett #chris evans characters #amber writes #sweater writes

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