#RIP Nick John
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sodas-gallery · 15 days ago
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based off something that happened in my playthrough (nick stood between finn and hancock)
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darling-chris · 21 days ago
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RIP MARTY CALLNER
The director of the Mirage Tour film in ‘82 and some of Stevie‘s Bella Donna stuff passed away recently.
Here‘s what he had to say about Christine.
I hope you’re meeting again up there!
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bullet-prooflove · 3 months ago
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New Characters Added:
Logan Howlett
New Fics This Week:
Chicago Med:
3am - Sean spends some bonding time with his son.
Cobra Kai:
One Last Time - Terry's been waiting for the fall.
FBI:
Runaway - OA catches up with you before you can do something stupid much to Stuart's relief.
Justified:
Stars Align - Things start to go wrong just as Tim and yours stars align.
Law & Order:
Unbuttoned Shirt - Nolan makes a realisation about your career.
Law & Order SVU:
Surprise Gift - You surprise Joe with a Christmas gift
Marvel:
Summer - No one knows what Logan gets up to during the summer break.
Mayor of Kingstown:
Day Eight - Robert drowns his sorrows when he recieves some bad news about your condition.
NCIS:
Office Party (NSFW) - Nick gets jealous when he sees you with Sawyer.
NCIS - New Orleans:
Mistletoe - Douglas runs into you at City Hall underneath the mistletoe.
NCIS - Sydney:
Bliss - Your first date with JD is still going on 24 hours later.
Rescue Hi-Surf:
Traffic Lights - Will makes a mistake regarding his plans for the weekend.
Seal Team:
2017 - Eric recounts the moment things changed between the two of you.
Top Gun Maverick:
Surreal - You locate Jake after he disappears.
Tracker:
The Restless One - Colter never sticks around in one place until now.
Tulsa King:
Say It With Flowers (NSFW) - Bodhi wakes up to the sensation of flower petals on his skin.
Out of Hand - Bill loses his temper when a man from your past makes a reappearance.
Gold (NSFW) - You make Cal jealous after an indiscretion.
Macmallan 81 (NSFW) - You and Bill celebrate the New Year in style.
Yellowstone:
Country Dress - Rip's plans gets interrupted when you get into a fight at the bar.
Truth Hurts - Rip makes sure Travis keeps his promise.
Never Enough - John discovers there's another man interested in you.
Headstrong - Kayce's curse is that he always falls in love with headstrong women.
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duranduratulsa · 3 months ago
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Boys Keep Swinging
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Duran Duran song 🎵 of the day: Boys Keep Swinging (2010) #duranduran #boyskeepswinging #davidbowie #RIPDavidBowie #simonlebon #nickrhodes #johntaylor #rogertaylor #rogertaylorduranduran #DomBrown #2010s
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general-kalani · 2 years ago
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"My, my, is that Nick Rye? You really think you can take me down? I'm the best pilot there is, Rye boy."
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"First'a all fuck you man. Second'a all."
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"FUCK NOT ANOTHER PERSON ABLE TO DO THIS-"
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greensparty · 8 months ago
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Remembering Gena Rowlands 1930-2024
Sad news tonight: actress Gena Rowlands has died at 94. Some might call her the First Lady of Independent Cinema as the films she made with her husband John Cassevetes were so influential in the pantheon of independent cinema! John Cassevetes (1929-1989), who was married to Gena from 1954 to his death in 1989, would act in a ton of movies and take the money from those to direct his own films. A number of them starred Rowlands as his leading lady. John and Gena had three kids, all of whom are filmmakers: Nick (born in 1959, a friend and frequent collaborator of Ted Demme's! He actually co-wrote Blow), Alexandra (born in 1965, directed the excellent Z Channel documentary), and Zoe (born in 1970). Talent definitely runs in their family!
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Peter Falk and Rowlands in A Woman Under the Influence
John and Gena made about 10 films together, both co-starring and John directing Gena. The best of them was A Woman Under the Influence, which Gena was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress for. Her performance as Mabel, the housewife who begins showing some behavioral issues with her husband and family. She gives one of the greatest film performances of all time. How she didn't win the Oscar is beyond me!
Other notable films she appeared in included The Brink's Job, Michael J. Fox and Joan Jett's mother in Light of Day, Another Woman, and Night on Earth.
The link above is the obit from Hollywood Reporter.
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zepskies · 1 year ago
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Smoke Eater - Part 15
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Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   
AN: Thank you as always for the lovely responses on the previous chapter! It was a long one, so thank you for sticking through with me. We're about to lighten up a little with some Christmas spirit! ❄️🎁
**Also, if you're a fan of The Boys (and Soldier Boy), there's an awesome book you can check out, called Supes Ain’t Always Heroes: Inside the Complex Characters and Twisted Psychology of The Boys.
If you want to learn more about the book (including cast interviews and a character study on Soldier Boy), I wrote a review about it here!
Otherwise, on to some more firefighter!Dean!
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, fluff, tinge of angst, hurt/comfort, lots of feels.
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Part 15: “The Good Part”
“How many damn arrests does that make?” Daniel asked. He gripped his pool cue with both hands while he leaned on it.
His son stood at the other end of the pool table, lining up his shot. He paused to think.
“Six,” Nick replied. His cue released, and it knocked two of his balls into the pocket.
“Six,” Daniel repeated, while Nick came his way to find an angle for his next turn.
Daniel shook his head. His lips were angrily pursed. His eyes might’ve been on the pool game, but he was playing chess in his mind. He had underestimated John Winchester for far too long, it seemed.
The man was stubborn as all hell. And he’d been busy lately, getting “Azazel’s” men busted for all manners of bullshit.
“Alastair’s mole says Winchester’s been calling in favors from his old friends in Narcotics, trying to bust our small fries,” Nick reported. “Getting them on everything from petty theft to drug possession, with intent to sell. But it’s nothing we can’t pull ‘em out of.”
“Time, money, added risk,” Daniel cited on his fingers all the reasons why John Winchester was a pain in his ass. “It’s only a matter of time before they get a warrant to rip apart Savage & Co., sweep the whole damn building. For forensic evidence, our files, all the jazz.”
Daniel’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against his chin. “A damn cop thinks he’s being cute.”
Nick missed his second turn. His hand fell against his thigh in annoyance, but he looked up.
“Dad, it’s your move.”
Daniel rubbed at his chin. His eyes were no longer seeing the board in front of him. Eventually, they slid up and met his son’s gaze.
“We’re going to start from the beginning,” he said.
Nick’s face gave away his confusion. “What? What do you mean?”
Daniel just smiled.
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It was Christmas Day, and John was late. Sam and Dean were used to that drill, so they weren’t expecting him until dinnertime.
Meanwhile, it gave you a chance to find your footing as you got to know Eileen. She had helped you bake the pies that were now cooling on the counter (pumpkin and berry crumble), and a few of the side dishes for dinner. Sam had covered cleaning up the rest of the house, while Dean tackled his favorites: the ham and the mac and cheese.
Now the guys were in the living room watching football while you and Eileen were still in the kitchen, decorating some gingerbread cookies you two had made. She enjoyed it; doing holiday crafts with her students had been bringing out her artistic side, she told you. You were happy for the help and the conversation.
You later tried to cover up your snort of laughter as she finished telling you the story of how Dean once dared Sam to wear women’s underwear for a whole week.
If he managed it, Dean had promised to do all the household chores for three months. If Sam couldn’t make it the whole week, then he would face the consequences: Dean would tell their dad about the bet.
“How old were they?” you asked.
Eileen scoffed. “Sam was a senior in college.”
You burst out laughing again. “So too old, is the answer… Did he win?”
Eileen gave you a mischievous smile.
“He did,” Dean said, as he appeared in the kitchen doorway with a familiar smirk. “I’ve got photographic evidence. It was a cheetah print thong, in case you were wondering.”
Your eyes widened on a laugh. “Oh my God.”
Cheetahlicious, you couldn’t help joking in your mind. Even if you’d rather not think of Sam wearing a pair of Victoria Secret’s best.  
Eileen giggled with you. Dean’s amusement gave way to curiosity as he eyed the little gingerbread men you two were icing. You warned him off with your eyes, but it took Eileen batting his hand when he tried to steal a cookie.
“Hey! Wait ‘til after dinner,” she said.
Dean pouted. “Come on, don’t be stingy.”
Rolling her eyes, Eileen sighed.
“You’re like one of my kids,” she said, while signing with her hands. But she caved and handed him a cookie. “Here. To tide you over.”
Dean smiled and signed back to her in ASL, Thank you.
“That’s why you’re my favorite,” he said. He leaned down to kiss her cheek in a brotherly gesture.
He shot you a wink before taking a bite of his prize. You shook your head at him, even though you were smiling. He came around to your side of the table. His hand rested on your back and he bent down towards your ear.  
“I actually came over for you,” he said. “Got a minute?”
Your brows rose, but you turned to Eileen in askance. “I’ll be right back. Is that okay?”
She nodded and made an “OK” gesture. “Of course.”
You smiled and let Dean lead you out of your chair, and even out of the apartment. He made sure you both grabbed your coats by the front door.
“Where are we going?” you asked. While you put on your coat over your sweater and jeans, you didn’t notice him grabbing two sets of keys.
“Just downstairs. No big deal,” he said, hefting on his own leather jacket.
You eyed him with some suspicion, but you walked with him down to the elevators and let him keep you close to his side. He smelled like the cologne you bought him for Christmas, and he was already wearing the new watch as well.
You’d struggled to find him the right gift. Nothing felt quite enough after everything he’d done for you the last few months. He’d assured you that he was grateful for both gifts, and had even tried to say the watch looked too expensive. (You’d shut him up with a kiss.)
Now, you had to wonder what he was up to as he led you into the parking lot, but not toward Baby. Instead, you two stopped in front of a shiny silver Chevy parked in a guest spot.
“Dean, what’d you do?” you asked, both excited and worried. He shot you a grin and dangled the keys in front of you.
“You like her?” he asked. His eyes were dancing. “You could keep her, if you ask nicely.”
Your face slackened. You looked between him and the sleek looking car.
“What?” You covered your mouth with both hands. Even after a few moments, your brain was still having a hard time computing. “No…what? Oh my God!”
You grabbed onto his jacket, just in case your legs failed you. Dean laughed and gathered you up in his arms. By the time you peeled your eyes away from the silver beauty to look up at your boyfriend, there were tears already swimming in your eyes.
“Dean, this is really too much. Where’d you find—”
“Bobby had it sitting in his garage for years,” he explained. His hand came up to brush your cheek, and the tears there. “I cleaned her up, dropped in a new engine, safe-proofed with new tires, new airbags, the works. Got her purring like a kitten.”
Your eyes grew a little wider with every admission. Then you softened, gripping the edges of his jacket while you bit your lip to keep it from wobbling.
“How much did he sell it to you for?” you asked. Dean dropped his head back with a sigh.
“Don’t you wanna take a test ride before we start hagglin’?”
You lightly smacked his chest. “Hey. How much?”
He let out another heavy sigh, but you eventually got it out of him. While the price wasn’t as bad as you might’ve expected, you still shook your head.
“I still have a decent chunk of insurance money left. I’m giving you at least half,” you said.
Dean shook his head. “This is my gift to you.”
Your lips pursed, despite the smile that wanted to peek through.
“Nice try,” you said wryly. “You already got me perfume.”
“That was just the decoy.” He grinned, and held you a bit tighter against him. He nodded towards the car. “She’s the main event.”
You wanted to sigh, but this conversation wasn’t over. You were definitely not letting him buy you a whole new…old car. You turned to look at it again.
“What model is this?” you asked.
“2002 Camaro Z28,” Dean rattled off. It sounded impressive, but you didn’t know much about cars.
He let go of you so you could get a closer look. Your hand passed over the hood, but didn’t touch, as if you were afraid of staining the paint with your fingerprints. He had to admit, he’d waxed it up good and managed to get rid of a lot of superficial nicks and scratches.
What he said was true though; Bobby had given him a frankly ridiculous deal. Because when Dean had told him what you’d been through after the car accident, dealing with your grandfather’s passing, and now your ever-mounting expenses, Bobby hadn’t let him walk away from Singer Salvage with anything else but this car. He’d even helped Dean get the new parts he needed to fix it up.
“Is it automatic or manual?” you asked, trying to peer through the driver’s window. “I haven’t driven stick in a hell of a long time.”
Dean came up from behind you and his warm hand found your hip. You let him draw you back into his arms, leaning against his chest.
His lips were close to your ear when he said, “I think you’re damn good at driving stick.”
It took you a second, but the heavily laden innuendo in his deep voice was hard to miss. You uttered a laugh and swatted his arm.
“You’re ridiculous,” you said. You were still smiling when you turned and twined your arms around his neck. Then you leaned up for a kiss—one that kept getting deeper with the full force of your gratefulness, and your love for this man.
“It’s an automatic,” he answered, between kisses. You giggled against his lips.
You barely felt the chill on the air. Your heart was beating fast, even when you pulled away from him. Your eyes slowly opened and met his. He smiled down at you and curled an errant strand of hair behind your ear. As usual, you had most of it clipped up.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was quiet, but steady.
You let out a shaky breath. Emotion was clogging your throat, making your tears burn anew.
“This is a bit more than a Christmas present,” you said. He gave a more self-deprecating smile.
“Well, it’s also kind of an apology,” he said. “For getting you mixed up in my ‘family business.’”
He still felt guilt beyond belief for putting you in danger. For your life being threatened. For being the reason you couldn’t go home.
You just shook your head. Your hand raised to press against his cheek. Your thumb drew tenderly along his chin.
“I thought you said you were part of my family now?” you said. “We’ll figure this out together, like everything else.”
Dean’s eventual smile lightened you, and his kiss warmed you down to your toes. 
“If you want, let’s go for a ride after dinner,” he said.
It was your turn to smirk. Your hands migrated under his jacket and teased at his belt.
“Well, I’m certainly down for a ride,” you said.
Dean laughed and squeezed your hips. “All right. I’m puttin’ you on my naughty list.”
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When John finally arrived, the brothers welcomed him in first with big man hugs and good-natured ribbing for him being so damn late.
In Sam’s words, Upholding a Winchester family tradition.
John had taken that with a chuckle. “Smells damn good in here.”
“Yeah, food’s been done for an hour,” Dean prodded at him again. His grin betrayed his teasing, however. His welcoming hand stayed on his dad’s shoulder until they reached the living room, where Sam had set up a longer fold out table and chairs to function as the makeshift dining room, since the table near the kitchen only seated three.
There you were opening a bottle of Jack Daniels. You smiled up at John.
“Figured you were more of a whiskey than wine kind of guy,” you said. You were a bit nervous to see him again, no doubt with flour in your hair and frosting staining your hands. He clasped your shoulder with a hint of a smile.
“You’d be right. Good to see you, darlin’,” he said.
“You too,” you replied. Despite the fact that the first and last time you two had met, it had been in front of your house as the police rifled through your life, looking for more explosives. He graciously didn’t bring that up as he greeted Eileen next.
Once dinner was on the table, there was a lot of catching up between the brothers and their father while you and Eileen continued talking, even through dessert.
“This really is amazing,” she told you, pointing her fork at her slice of berry crumble. “I can see why you went to culinary school.”
You blushed as Sam, Dean, and even John echoed her praise. All three men had generous slices of both pies. 
“Well, thank you. I’m glad you guys enjoy it,” you said, and your smile was genuine.
You loved making good food, but you loved feeding people even more. Whether it was a simple hearty soup or a rich dessert, you liked putting smiles on their faces and giving them a good experience; one they could share with their family and friends. Even better if it was your family.
Or as Dean would say, Your people. 
To you, that was life.
“I’m tellin’ you, if you opened up a bakery you’d make a killing in this town,” Dean said. He nudged your hand with the one that held his fork; it held a precarious piece of pumpkin pie.
You shot him an amused look.
“Don’t you look at me sideways, I’m serious,” he said, laughing a little, but his gaze was steady.
Your cheeks warmed against your will. He believed in your dream, even when you couldn’t quite let yourself.
“Hey, if you ever want to look into applying for a loan, I could help,” Sam said, earning your attention. “I have a friend who works at a bank.”
Your brows raised. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah, we were pre-law together back in college, but he figured he was better with numbers.”
You smiled. “Well, it would make it easier knowing I was dealing with your friend.”
“Yeah, his name’s Brady. Let me know if you want me to call him,” he said.
You bit your lip, but you nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
Maybe they were right. Maybe you should start to believe in yourself, just a little bit more.
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“This was all real delicious,” John said to you, when you came back from bringing the leftovers to the kitchen.
Sam and Dean were already arguing about who was doing the dishes and who was drying them. Meanwhile, Eileen was putting away the food (and probably rolling her eyes).
“Yeah, it was a team effort for sure,” you replied. “Dean’s actually a really good cook.”
John chuckled. “Yeah, well, he didn’t get that from me. I can barely boil a damn egg.”
You smiled to yourself; you could imagine Dean got it from his mother then.
Meanwhile, John was watching you stack the empty plates as he grew more contemplative. He’d always been proud of his sons. They were good men, with strong heads on their shoulders.
He often looked at Sam and saw that he seemed happy. Despite the demands of his job, he was learning to balance that with the life he led with Eileen. As a father, John looked forward to the day when they made a firm foundation, taking the next step towards building a life together.
But Dean had seemed to him, a little unstable. John was still proud of his eldest, but while he’d seen a glimpse of it that day at your house, he saw it even more today. Like his son finally had an anchor, tethering him to dry land.
Even so, he couldn’t help heaving a sigh. And he asked you something he knew he shouldn’t.
“Have you given any more thought to filing a report on Nick Savage?” he asked.
You paused in your plate and cup stacking. You looked up at him with a frown, but you thought about your words before you said something rude.
“Yes, I did,” you replied. “I decided my life and my peace were more important.”
He let out a short sigh. “I understand—”
“I’m sorry, John, but I don’t think you do,” you said. Your words were matter-of-fact, if a tad more sharp than you meant them to be. Your hands were starting to tremble.
You crossed your arms to try and steady yourself, but Dean ended up doing just that, by joining your side and resting a hand at the small of your back. He was frowning, glancing between you and his father.
“Tell me you’re not talking about what I think you are,” Dean said, addressing John in particular. “Not on damn Christmas.”
“Like you said, it’s her decision,” John replied. His gaze once again focused on you.
You let out a breath, mostly of exasperation.
“I’m going to bottom-line it for you. If I report that man, and you can’t guarantee me a job and safety until it’s all over, then I’m not poking the bear,” you said. “I plan to keep my head down until I can find another job. Until then, you can have at him all you want. Just leave me out of it.”
Part of you felt selfish. You knew what John was trying to accomplish, and you knew how personal this fight was for him, and for Sam and Dean for that matter. You just couldn’t shake your gut instincts here. You knew Nick far too well by now, and you didn’t want to underestimate him again.
“I agree,” said Dean. You gave him a grateful look.
John conceded with a nod, but all of you knew he wasn’t satisfied. It became a bitter ending to an otherwise brilliant day after he left for the night.
In your mind, it wasn’t quite over yet though. You had a plan up your sleeve for one Dean Winchester.
Sam and Eileen had their own time together while you and Dean went for a drive in your new car. You’d have to transfer your plate and registration and insurance, so it was technically an “illegal” drive, but it was already late and traffic was scarce.
By the time you pulled back into the parking lot, you were smiling from ear to ear, and Dean was giving you that smug grin that said, Aw yeah, I did good.
You couldn’t even fault him for it, because he did exactly that.
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Even when you and Dean were getting ready for bed, it didn’t quite feel real. You were living with your boyfriend of just a few months, you now had a new car, and a crime lord had threatened your life.
You chose to focus on the new car. And on your boyfriend, who sat on the edge of his side of the bed, rubbing his right shoulder through his shirt. You knew it must still be sore, though he likely wouldn’t admit it.
Hence, you were about to enact Phase 1 of your plan…
You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.
Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”
“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.
You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.
You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”
He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.
“Well, if you’re offering…”
You withdrew your hand from his arm, but you spoke close to his ear.
“Are you asking?”
He let out a small sigh, despite his lingering smile.
“All right. Will you please give me a lil’ massage?” he asked.
He couldn’t see your triumphant smile, but you happily kissed his cheek.
“I sure can,” you replied. You laid gentle hands on his shoulders, however briefly. “Stay right here. Don’t move, but take off your shirt.”
“All right, Miss Bossy,” he grumbled. You knew he was teasing by the amused look he threw your way.
“I thought you liked that,” you teased back.
You climbed off the bed before he could playfully grab you, and you giggled all the way to the bathroom. There you began Phase 2 of your plan. 
First, you collected a few different bottles from your designated drawer under the sink. Then, you made a quick wardrobe change, after popping back into the bedroom to grab something from your nightstand.
You also connected your phone to the speaker on his nightstand and put some music on a low volume. It was a playlist he’d made and shared with you a while ago, with songs he thought you’d like. The Eagles’ “Take It to the Limit” was definitely on the list.
By the time you returned to Dean, he was indeed shirtless, still in his sweatpants, and checking his watch.  
“I’m here, I’m here,” you said. You climbed across the bed with your small haul—a difficult feat with your hands full, but you managed.
Dean turned to look at the bottles of moisturizer you dropped next to him on the bed. He rose a brow.
“Twilight Woods. Japanese Cherry Blossom. Appletini. Are these my only options?” he asked. His face was half bemused, half reluctant.
You almost burst out laughing. “Which one strikes your fancy?”
He scratched the back of his head. You opened the second bottle first (your personal favorite), so he could smell.
“Not bad actually,” he muttered. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t giggle, but you managed to open the other two for him to get a whiff.
“Eh, the first one I guess,” he said.
Japanese Cherry Blossom. AKA: a classic from Bath & Body Works.
You finally had to laugh. “Just kidding. I’ve got this.”
You held up a jar you’d been hiding behind him. Its logo said: Massage Oil.
“I just wanted to see which girly moisturizer you secretly wanna slather all over yourself,” you said.
Dean shot you a wry look, but only then did he see what you were wearing.
“Oh, hold up,” he uttered.
Your hair was let loose, how you knew he liked, and you’d teased it out a little. You’d had to give away the red lingerie you’d bought, to rid both of you of its lingering memories of your work Christmas party. Instead, you’d found something in a vibrant emerald green: satin and lace.
Dean’s hand reached for your waist, probably to bring you closer. But you playfully slapped his hand.
“Eh-eh! Not yet,” you said to his surprised face. You smiled. “I have a plan for you tonight.”
Slowly, he smirked. His eyes still dipped to take in the rest of you, from your pretty face, to exposed skin and cleavage, to shiny satin that clung to your curves and draped down to mid-thigh. 
“I can see,” he said. His voice was a notch deeper. “Merry Christmas to me.”
Despite your blush and growing smile, you turned him back around by his shoulders.
“Just relax.”
You let your hands drift up the back of his neck to slide your fingers through his hair. There you began with a slow, gentle massage of his head. You felt him take a deep breath.
You couldn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes had closed at your ministrations. He secretly really liked the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. It made his shoulders loosen; with tension he didn’t know he had releasing from the neck down.
Aside from the rigors of his job, he also had to work out and condition his body to keep up his stamina. He probably didn’t spend as much time as he should on this aspect of things, making sure he wasn’t overtaxing himself.
He appreciated what you were doing though. He knew you cared about him, that you loved him. But he liked that you were also a caring person, who tried to take care of him. Dean hadn’t really had that…from anyone before. Sometimes, it was hard for him to let you.
…Damn, we really got too much in common, he realized.
When you migrated back down his neck, your hands left for a moment to gather up some oil. It was warm against his skin when you started between his shoulders, digging with the heel of your hands.
He groaned deep, surprising even himself.
Behind him, your brows were furrowed. “You’re really knotted up here. When was the last time you had a massage?”
Dean chuckled. “Never.”
You frowned. “Hmm. Okay, we’re definitely doing this more often.”
“No complaints from me,” he said with a grin.
Of course, you gave special attention to his right shoulder. You were gentler there, asking what was tender and what felt good, or too much. By then you had an easier time getting the truth out of Dean. He let you know when the pressure was too much, and you even helped him stretch out that arm until the muscles and joints were warmed up and the pain was gone.
You encouraged him to lie on his stomach in the middle of the bed, so you could start on his back. Your hands glided down planes of muscle and smooth slopes while you straddled his thighs. The only sounds you heard from him were occasional moans and rumbling, pleased sounds. That was also what let you know that he hadn’t fallen asleep.
“Okay, turn over,” you said, smiling when he groaned in protest. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.”
“What the hell’s the good part then?” he asked. His voice was muffled in the mattress, but when he turned around, flopping onto his back, his eyes once again took in the green satin and seemed to remember what your real intentions were.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. His grin was lazy, now that he was beyond relaxed, but his hands found purchase on your hips. You smiled down at him.
You let the remaining oil on your hands glide up his chest, until you lowered down for a kiss. It was unhurried and sweet.
“I love you, you know?” you said.
Dean swept his fingers through your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.
He smiled. “I’ve got some idea, yeah.”
You both laughed, soft and true. Your hand rested against his cheek as you pressed your lips to his, soft and slow at first, but soon gaining in both passion and urgency. You felt his grip on your hips tighten, grinding your center against his growing length.
He groaned. No goddamn panties on. Good.
You kissed your way from his lips to his neck. Your teeth grazed his ear while you rolled your hips into his. It was a tease for both of you, but not for long, as Dean grew impatient enough to slide his sweatpants down, followed by his hands slipping under the satin covering your thighs. They traveled further still, squeezing your breasts and rolling hardened nipples under the pads of his thumbs.
Your breath hitched, and your pleased hum was music to his ears. By now you were bracing yourself against the mattress, but you used his shoulders as leverage to raise yourself up.
You took his hands and encouraged them to bunch up the satin and pull it over your head. Dean sat up with you still in his lap, and once his strong arm wrapped around your waist, it was skin to flushed skin.
You held his face and brought him down to you for another fierce kiss. He held you tightly against him, hands splayed across your back and tangling in your hair. His arms were a cage you never wanted to escape.
But you did press away from him, just for a moment, so you could reach down between your bodies to take a firm hold of his cock. You guided it to your entrance. There was already a small flood between your legs, and your core ached for him.
There was almost no resistance when you slowly sunk your hips down and down, until he was buried deep inside you.
You both made sounds of pleasure, with labored breaths as Dean’s hand cradled your cheek. He laid open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, teeth grazing down your neck.
You clung to his shoulders and began to move, slow in the way you let almost the full length of his cock escape you, before you slid back down. Dean moaned into your skin, and you let out a shuddering sigh.
You pushed at Dean’s chest until he was lying back, and you continued rolling your hips against his. He helped you create a steady rhythm on top of him, but he was being treated to a feast of the eyes as well as the pleasure rocking through his body. He watched the way you swept your hair back. The way your eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration as you bit your lip.
But he couldn’t stay still for long; he knew he was close enough to practically taste his end, but you had some miles to go. He gripped your thigh with one hand while the other glided up between them, to further part your folds. His fingers found your clit, circling insistently like it was a button. It had your hips stuttering.
“Oh, God,” you uttered. “Dean—”
He managed to smirk through panting breaths. “Right there, right baby?”
You nodded, unable to speak. You continued to move as steadily as you could, but the feeling of him deep inside combined with his talented fingers playing you like a five-string guitar—it finally made you tighten on him, shuddering deep inside. Tingles broke across your skin, zipping up your spine as you gasped.
Dean helped you with the last few hard thrusts that brought him along with you, and you felt his warmth spilling inside you.
It was a heady feeling, and you needed a moment just to recover. Even though you were on birth control, every time he came inside you still felt like a dangerous, delicious game.
But after you slid off his lap and practically rolled into his side, him welcoming you with an arm wrapping around your waist, it did make you think, as you caught your breath.
It made you think about the first time you and Dean slept together. It had been the first and last time you’d asked him to wear a condom. The next morning, he’d made a remark that still hung in the back of your mind…
“You like kids, huh?”
The thought still rattled through your mind now, after you and Dean shared a quick shower, ridding you both of the oil clinging to your skin. The thought remained when you slid into bed, under fresh sheets and thick covers, and close to your man. He cupped your cheek and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling.
Contrary to what this night had been, the whole “moving in together” thing hadn’t been all that easy. You two had bickered about the way he often left drawers and cabinets open and dirty clothes on the floor.
He had made remarks about your hair products taking up too much space in his drawers. Not to mention how morning routines needed to adjust because Dean liked to shower in the morning, but you needed the mirror not fogged up in order to do your makeup.
Right now, however, you had peace. You felt safe here, and you weren’t alone in a huge house filled with far too many memories.
“Can I ask you something?” you said.
Dean’s lips lingered on your forehead. “Hmm?”
“I know this situation is sort of temporary, me living here,” you said. “So much has happened that we haven’t really talked about…what we both want, down the line.”
He pulled back enough from you to see your face. His face betrayed a thread of confusion.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean like…” you hesitated, but you realized you were probably going to have to be direct. “Are you a marriage and kids kind of guy? Is that even something you’ve thought about?”
Dean met your gaze. It took him a moment, but he let out a short sigh.
“You wanna know what made me want to start dating, for real?” he asked.
You blinked; you hadn’t expected that, but you nodded.
“I started thinking about what would happen if something happened to me on the job,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, he raised a placating hand.
“I thought about what I’d leave behind,” said Dean. He quirked a wry smile. “It’s not much, besides my car.”
You frowned in earnest. Your hand flattened against his bare chest.
“That’s not true,” you said. “You have your brother, your father, and your friends. That’s plenty, Dean.”
He conceded that with a nod. “You’re right. But I just started thinking, maybe I want more. Like uh…like what my parents had, when they were happy. The house, each other, me and Sammy…a family.”
You couldn’t be certain in the near total darkness of the room, with only the moonlight filtering through the blinds and casting a glow behind him, but you thought you saw a shine in his eyes. Your hand crept up from beneath the covers to find his cheek. It was rough with stubble, yet you tenderly swept a thumb back and forth.
“I think that’s beautiful,” you replied.
Dean paused. He then huffed in amusement. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, hoping he could see it. 
“Then uh, is that something you’d be into?” he asked. You were amused by his tentative approach. 
“With you?” You pretended to think. Your fingers slipped into his hair. “Yeah, I think I’m into that.”
He chuckled. “Okay, then. Good to know.”
He grasped your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss into your palm.
And he spoke into the dark. “I love you too, you know.”
Your smile deepened as you rested your head against his arm. You whispered into the small space between your faces.
“Yeah, I’ve got some idea.”
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AN: All righty, how'd you like that fluff overload?
...Ready for some more drama? 😏
Next Time:
But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.
It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.
“Winchester,” he answered.
“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”
“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”
Keep Reading: PART 16
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb
@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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evervigilantnightshade · 4 months ago
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The Line Part 10
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Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.
Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.
MDNI
Warnings: Angst, violence towards reader, reader attacked by men, a pup gets hurt (but don't worry he's ok) Blood, fluff, flirting, Death and killing on missions, Father of reader's death mentioned. Eventual smut.
MASTERLIST
They made their way towards the hallway and John grabbed his bag, having brought it upstairs not knowing where he was staying. Y/N led him downstairs again and went towards the door opposite of the cold storage room. She had left her bag outside the door so she grabbed it before she opened it. 
She walked in and turned on the lights revealing a large room with a queen size bed on the right side and a large sunk in wall length bookcase on the left. In the middle of the book case was a TV and the shelves were filled with books, nick nacks and framed photos. There was a comfy chair and ottoman positioned facing the TV and to the right of that a small shelf with a record player and some records. Directly across from the door was a small hallway with a bathroom on the left and a walk in closet on the right. 
She put her bag on the bench on the end of the bed and then awkwardly looked at John as he did the same. 
“So this is my room.” 
“I see that.” John said as he looked around. 
He walked over to the bookcase and was looking at some of the photos. There were ones of her in her early military years, ones of her family, one of her and Si in full uniform, then one of her and an older man. 
“Is this your da?” 
“Yeah, that was taken a few years ago.” 
He nodded and then noticed a picture of task force 141 and laughed 
“I remember this. You were pissed because Johnny and Kyle kept making rude faces.” 
“Yeah, well, I don't know why I thought they would take a normal picture in the first place. Guess I just wanted something with all of us in it. In case…” 
“In case one of us leaves the team?” John asked but knew what she meant originally. 
“In case one of us is asked to leave the team you mean.” 
“Love I didn’t mean it. I swear. I was angry and drunk. I should’ve listened to you when you told me it wasn’t the right time.” 
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately and yet you keep ignoring what I try to tell you. ” 
“I know but I promise love, I’m listening now.” 
“The thing is I’ve run out of things to say.” 
He walked over to her and took her hands in his. 
“There has to be more to say, I have so much more to say.” 
She sighed and then took her hands from his and motioned for him to sit down in the chair. Instead he moved the ottoman and gave her the chair. He sat for a moment looking at her and then spoke. 
“I’m going to start again by apologising. Honestly I’ll keep apologising to you for the rest of my life for the things I said to you, for the things I made you believe. I regret it all the moment I woke up the next morning. I know you’re not any of the things I said you were. You’re the complete opposite of that. 
You told me that I was wrong but I wouldn’t listen and I have been so completely heartbroken since. I was hurt and embarrassed, I started thinking everything I had thought was happening between us was all in my head. But you told me you wanted me and I couldn’t understand why you would do that to me. Allowing me to fall for you only to rip it all away. I couldn’t think straight and was broken. I never thought I would have love, what we do really gets in the way of that. But then you came along and the first moment I saw you, you took my breath away. 
You were so incredibly beautiful and so talented. So focused when it was needed but also brought joy to the team after missions. At first I thought it was just an attraction and I didn’t act on it because I was your superior. But damn you made that hard. You’re effortlessly sexy and I found myself wanting you in the most unrealistic scenarios. Watching you work on missions, watching you train, watching you make dinner. I couldn’t concentrate and was losing focus. You consumed my thoughts. 
Then one day you flirted with me. It was small, you made a reference to how well the new fatigues fit me and I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. From there it slowly progressed as you know. And then the stake out happened and I realized it was so much more than just attraction. The thought of losing you, it killed me. I wanted that life with you that I thought was always unattainable. The life where we have comfortable Sunday mornings reading on the couch, or Friday night movie nights, cuddled up together under the same blanket. Or  days where we lay in each other's arms and spend the day in bed talking. I wanted it all. I still want it.” 
He reached over and took her hands again and she let him hold them. 
“I know I fucked up, I know I tainted this. I just hope that you’ll give me another chance. I promise I will never do anything like this again.” 
Y/N looked him over, his face was so sincere she almost lost all her resolve and pulled him into her arms to comfort him. She shook the thought out of her head. 
“Do you know there is a weather phenomenon here called a Chinook? It’s quite beautiful to see, the clouds form an arch over the horizon and warm wind blows down the mountains. It’s unpredictable and you never know when it’s going to happen. However every single time there is a Chinook it causes me to have an intense migraine. I always wonder how something so beautiful causes me so much pain.
I don’t want to just accept that at any moment you could hurt me like you did in Germany. I don’t want to live in fear that the moment something happens your automatic response is to kick me out of your life. To know that when it really comes down to it, you don’t actually trust me.” 
John tried to interject but Y/N stopped him. 
“And I’m not saying I’m not to blame in all this. I kept things from you, I wasn’t honest and I’ve lied to you multiple times to keep up the original lie. Not big lies, small ones. Like telling you Charlie was our family dog. To be honest this whole thing has made me stop and think about us. In the end we don’t really know anything about each other besides the basics that we see on a day to day basis or whatever's in our files. 
For example I know you take your tea with a splash of milk and no sugar but I don’t know how many siblings you have. I know the type of cigars you smoke but I don’t know your moms name. And there’s so much you don’t know about me, hell you just learned today that I’m a twin. Maybe this was all going a little too fast to begin with.”
 “So what are you saying?” 
“Honestly I don’t know yet. On the one hand something in me is telling me to end this and run as far away from it as possible. Leave the team, leave you, leave all of it. On the other hand though I want to stay and fight for this, for you. I’ve never felt like this before about anyone and I want to see if we can salvage it.” 
“We can. I promise we can.” 
“Well it’s something we both have to think about. For now I need to take a nap. My head is killing me, I’m exhausted and I haven’t had a moment alone in far too long. Just give me a few hours in the room. 
We’ll have a big dinner, Em should be here by then and after we need to sit down with my family and give them some sort of explanation as to why their lives have been disrupted. After that everyone will go to bed and I’ll sleep on the couch upstairs because I don’t trust myself to share a bed with you and control myself not to allow what we’ve both wanted for so long to happen. It will only confuse things at this point though.” 
“Y/N that’s ridiculous. Let me sleep on the couch or even change rooms with Soap or Gaz.” 
“Neither of those things are going to happen. I know this house and I’ve been sneaking around it since I was little. I know where to step where the floor doesn’t creak and I know how not to get caught. As for changing rooms, I won’t let that happen.” 
“Why not?” 
“Because I told my family about you. I  told them I was falling for you and how excited I was. I don’t want to turn to them now and tell them what happened or even that things are different now. I don’t want them to hate you for the things you said. So no, we won't change rooms, and I’ll sleep on the couch for now.” 
John just nodded and stood up to leave the room. He looked devastated and it tugged at Y/N’s heart. The urge to hold him came back and she didn’t want to fight it this time. 
“Hey,” She called out to him and stood up walking over to where he was standing. “Do you think maybe… for just a moment… we can pretend nothing bad happened, that we are still in that place where I can hug you?” 
John swallowed and then nodded, not trusting himself to speak, wanting this more than anything. Y/N closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him, placing her head against his chest. His left arm wrapped around her back while his right hand reached up and his fingers intertwined in her hair. He pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head and then rested his cheek against it. 
They held each other tightly, holding back the words they both desperately wanted to say to each other in this moment of vulnerability. John felt tears forming in his eyes for the first time in over a decade and tried hard to fight them back. Y/N however was letting hers flow freely and he could feel them soaking into his shirt. 
“I don’t want to lose you.” He whispered causing a sob to escape her throat. 
“I don’t want to lose you either.” She whispered back. 
In that moment he wanted so badly to kiss her, to tell her over and over again how much he loved her and how sorry he was. He knew though that he had to give her the space she asked for, to let her think. He had to let go but it was so incredibly difficult. He gave her one last kiss on the top of her head and released her from his arms. She looked up at him with her teary eyes and he couldn’t help the tear that rolled down his cheek. She reached up and wiped it away, then cupped his face in her hand. He closed his eyes for just a moment, then took her hand in his kissed it and walked out of the room. 
Y/N laid down on her bed and cried herself to sleep. When she woke several hours later she felt clearer than she had before. Instead of getting out of bed she laid there thinking things over. Maybe they could start over, build the trust again, this time really getting to know each other. Hell maybe they could even go on a date like normal people do. Something they hadn’t done yet. In fact the little time they got to spend together alone was happenstance. Like if the rec room happened to be empty or when they were on the stake out. They would talk for hours about books they were reading or past missions. 
She knew deep down she wanted John, she wanted to be with him. She had been fighting it to protect her heart but maybe this was better. They rushed things before, got caught up with the physical side of things and they didn’t take time for the rest. 
“But what if he hurts me again?” She thought to herself.  
She got up and took a shower, before dressing and heading upstairs still feeling confused. She saw that some of the group was still in the living room but her mom, grandma and Emma were in the kitchen so that’s where she headed. 
She walked up behind Emma and hugged her from behind. Emma was the only one in the family that was shorter than Y/N by quite a bit. She, like her sisters, had long brown hair with blue eyes.  
“Hey sis.” She whispered and Emma smiled while turning around
They hugged and rocked back and forth. 
“I was wondering when you were going to make your way up here.” 
“Needed a nap and a shower.” 
“I met your guys, they’re all so nice. Kyle is quite handsome.”  
“Good luck getting anywhere near him, Si is watching the guys like a hawk.” Y/N laughed “He’s already split up Charlie and Johnny.”  
“Well we’ll see about that.” She winked at Y/N. “Also met John…” 
“Let me guess. He’s so handsome, he’s so manly, wow he’s amazing?” 
“Well he’s all of that, yes. But I was going to say he looks sad. Did something happen?” 
Emma the ever perceptive sister. Y/N sighed and then hugged her sister again. 
“Everything's fine.” She lied while Emma couldn’t see her face. “What’s for dinner?” 
Changing the subject seemed to work because Momma Lynn instantly put Y/N to work helping set the dining room table that was now set up on the side of the living room. 
She grabbed the plates and cutlery from the cupboards and then headed into the living room. Putting the items down on the table and she called Meadow over. 
“Here sweets, help me set the table.” 
Meadow came over and grabbed the cutlery off the top of the plates. They worked their way around the table and when they were done Y/N put her arm around her and they headed back to the kitchen. 
“You didn’t come say hi yet, what’s going on?” Y/N asked and then bumped her hip lightly into Meadow. 
“Boy problems.” She sighed 
“Oh babe, I know the feeling. Are you ok, want to talk about it?” 
“Not when everyone’s around. Maybe we can go for a walk later?” 
“Absolutely!” Y/N said quietly and then gave her niece a hug.
She had missed all of this. Spending time with her family, seeing the kids, they were all growing up so fast. She didn’t want to miss as much as she had, but it came with the job. She felt bad for Simon. Sure they were able to make it home for Clara’s birth but there would be milestones in his daughter's life that he was going to miss. It was inevitable. 
Her mind shifted to John. She wondered if he wanted kids. He hadn’t ever mentioned it, but again they haven’t spent a lot of time thinking about those things. 
They finished setting the table and when all the food was on the table Y/N went to let everyone know and they made their way to the table, she couldn’t see John though. 
“Hey Kyle, where’s John?” 
Kyle motioned to the back deck. 
She made her way out there and saw John sitting under the gazebo in one of the chairs smoking a cigar, a look of deep concentration on his face. 
She leaned against one of the gazebo posts, putting her hands in her pockets. He still hadn’t noticed her there. 
“John.” She said softly. 
He looked up at her and then smiled, but it seemed a bit forced. 
“Sorry love, didn’t hear you come out.” 
“It’s ok, dinners ready.” She motioned towards the door with her head. 
He stood up and put his cigar out, making his way over to her. She turned to go inside when she felt his hand softly grab her waist. He pulled her towards him, her back still to him. He slipped one arm across her chest resting his hand on her shoulder, the other snaked around her waist as he buried his face in her neck, the smell of his cigar filling her nose. 
Ever since they hugged in her room she ached to be held by him again. They had never been in each other's arms like that and it was so much more intimate than anything they had ever done before. Until now. Now with breath fanning over her skin she felt herself placing her hands over his and squeezing them so he was holding her tighter. She felt safe in his arms, loved. 
The way he was holding her felt emotional, like he was desperately trying to tell her something without using words. Was this goodbye she wondered, having seen how serious his face was moments ago.
She had told him to think about things seriously, hadn’t she? To decide if they could salvage this. What if he decided they couldn’t. The thought caused a sharp pain to form in her chest. She inhaled sharply and squeezed his arms around her even tighter. If this was going to be the last time he held her she wanted him to hold her so tightly it left a mark on her. Tears once again filled her eyes. 
Sensing that something was wrong John lifted his head
“What’s wrong baby?” 
He’d never called her that before and felt her squeeze him tighter even though he didn’t think that was possible. He pulled her shoulder with his hand so she was facing him and he could see the tears in her eyes. 
“Sorry,” Her chin wobbled. “All I seem to do is cry lately.” 
“I understand. I’ve shed a few tears myself.” He admitted 
She looked up into his eyes and then wrapped her arms around his neck. It was his turn now to inhale sharply as she raised herself up on her tiptoes. 
“Kiss me.” She whispered and he hesitated. 
Hadn’t she said she didn’t want this mere hours ago? Said it would complicate things?
“Please” She begged and all thoughts left his mind
He pressed his lips to hers instantly. Softly, intimately. His hands moving down, placing them on the sides of her hips to ground himself. This wasn’t a kiss that he wanted to rush, and it wasn’t a kiss of passion, it was a kiss of shared love. 
He could taste the salt of her tears on her lips and he pulled his mouth from hers as he kissed the tears from her cheeks before moving back to her lips. In this moment everything fell away. The past was gone and it was just the two of them here, in this moment. A moment neither of them wanted to end, but knew it had too. 
For the second time today John knew he had to pull away from her. Her family was standing on the other side of the door, waiting for them to join them for dinner. He just couldn’t seem to make himself do it this time. Not when he had all he wanted here in his arms, his lips pressed to hers. 
They were so caught up in each other they didn’t hear the back door open until Simon coughed to get their attention. They slowly pulled away from each other and then looked over at him. 
“Sorry, it’s just…” He motioned inside, embarrassment causing his cheeks to turn red.
Y/N nodded and ran her hands over her face, then her hair, straightening herself up before going in. Simon went into the house without them, and John rubbed her back as she took a deep breath. 
“Are you ok?” His voice was soft and filled with concern. 
Y/N chuckled sadly and looked at him. 
“Are you?” 
“No.”
They looked into each other's eyes for a moment and then turned to head inside. 
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krumpkin · 2 months ago
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Peter Green - Full Name ( Peter Allen Greenbaum ) .
He was the original founder of the group ( Fleetwood Mac ) The group got its name from the other two members Mick Fleetwood and John Mcvie. When asked why he named the group after them he said he wanted to make sure his friends and bandmates had something to carry on with when he left. He had zero ego and little interest in the money, in fact he gave most of it away to charity.
Fleetwood Mac began in 1967 in London and Green stayed with the group until 1970. The later Fleetwood Mac line up that most people know formed in 1977. This consisted of Mick Fleetwood, John Mcvie, Stevie Nick's and Lindsey Buckingham. Christine Mcvie had joined back in 1970.
Peter Green was an outstanding blues guitarist and regarded as one of the best by the likes of BB King and Eric Clapton amongst others. Apart from the guitar he also had a great voice.
He wrote Black Magic Woman which helped launch the career of Carlos Santana. I guess this shows his songwriting wasn't too shabby either 😉
I'll leave you with a couple of his videos, enjoy 😊😎
youtube
youtube
youtube
RIP Peter Green
Born - ( 29th Oct 1946 ) Died ( 25th July 2020 aged 73 )
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witty--fool · 9 months ago
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Hey, so y'all want a snippet of some Nick Valentine angst?
"Just what, Nick?" Hancock interrupted, his voice hardening,"You think she deserves less happiness because of what she's been through? Or because of what we are?"
"I never asked for this life, Hancock, Never asked to be turned into this shell of man. This mechanical fraud." Nick finally snapped, and anger boiling inside him. Hancock had chosen the form he now lamented, Nick was forced into existence. He thought about the John McDonough that had run from his problems. The John McDonough that took a experimental radiation drug that disfigured his body into that of a ghoul, the John McDonough that had donned the clothes of some bygone man and named himself John Hancock. And now, John Hancock held the heart of the gal he wanted so desperately. The gal his circuits ached for.
"But neither did she-she didn't ask to be turned into a human popsicle for two-hundred years. Didn't ask for her husband she'd had since 19 and son she was finally able to conceive at 29 to be ripped away from her." a frustration, a frustration about the lack of tears welled up within him. He missed being able to cry, being able to release that pain in such a manner. "We're both living in a world that's moved on without us." He sighed, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and longing.
If his mechanical body could produce tears, there would be a few rolling down his cheeks, "I can't, can't complicate her life like that. Not when" he choked slightly, "Not with the memories. The flashes of Jenny, the flashes of a Nick Valentine that was loved, truly and deeply loved."
“Shit…” Hancock deflated, realizing the error of his previous words, “Shit Nick, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“It doesn't matter how I feel.” Nick started up again, “She loves you. She’s the kind of woman that only loves one man at a time–and she loves that man fiercely.” he paused, “and that man is you, Hancock.”
Excerpt from an upcoming chapter of Rain in My Heart
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darling-chris · 9 months ago
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Dearest Chris,
This year I spent your birthday in London. I felt close to you. I spent it listening to the songs of an old friend of yours, sharing a grief I feel I‘m not deserving of. Still, I felt close to you. I imagined sitting where you might have sat, walking where you might have walked, taking in the view of Albert‘s Bridge, walking down the posh streets of Belgravia.
Listen, darling & to all who are reading this, it might sound like insanity to you, like a pathetic attempt of some girl on the internet trying to get some attention, stalking the ghost of a dead woman through a faraway town. It’s not, it’s personal, it meant a lot to me.
Why am I posting this then? If it‘s so personal? Because somebody might relate. Because those words might find someone in need, telling them it’s okay, they are not alone!
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bullet-prooflove · 7 months ago
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A quick round up of updates on the blog including new characters added to the ASK LIST and a list of fics that went out last week.
New Characters:
Thomas Magnum (Magnum P.I)
Shammy (Magnum P.I)
Rick Wright (Magnum P.I)
Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption 2)
Dwight Manfredi (Tulsa King)
Jamie Reagan (Blue Bloods)
Joe Hill (Blue Bloods)
New Fics:
The Bear:
Dissociation - Carmy confronts David Fields.
Something Important - Carmy knows the two of you have something important together.
The Better Man - Richie confronts your ex-husband.
Two Years - Mikey gets two years with you before it all falls apart.
Blue Bloods:
The Wrong Side Of It - Jamie steps up when you end up on the wrong side of some fellow officers.
Good Girl (NSFW) - You're not always such a good girl. (Joe Hill x Reader)
Chicago Med:
Rosewater - Jimmy fights for you.
Swings - Mitch steps up when you recieve some life changing news.
Don't Hold Back - You struggle after spending the night with Mitch.
Lipstick - You make a small gesture to Connor.
FBI:
Safehouse - You and Stuart discuss moving forward now you're back in NY.
Haven:
Him - You decide that Dwight's more important than keeping secrets.
Law & Order:
Spend the Night - Ed asks you to spend the night when the two of you cross the line.
A Casual Thing - You return to Ed's apartment despite what you agreed.
Right There (NSFW) - Nick decides the two of you need to take a break.
Cravings - A chance meeting with you makes Vince realise he's compromising himself.
Magnum P.I:
Beautiful Morning - Rick wakes up to a beautiful morning Hawaii and you.
Early - Rick wakes up to a surprise.
So You Did (NSFW) - Magnum did tell you the two of you'd have fun.
Surprises - You were always the very best surprise.
With Me (NSFW) - You & Shammy spend the night together
NCIS Hawaii:
Wild Horses - Jesse tries to help you forget about your current predicament.
Red Dead Redemption 2:
Eyes On Me (NSFW) - Arthur & you finally cross the line.
SWAT:
One Night - It’s never just one night with you and Rocker.
Tulsa King:
Georgia Peach (NSFW) - You get a little territorial when one of Mitch's exes comes sniffing around.
Dior - Dwight wakes up to the scent of Dior and lipstick on his chest.
Gunpowder & Roses - Dwight's enemies make a mistake when they come after you.
Yellowstone:
Destory - Evelyn makes John a promise regarding you.
Problem Child - Kayce reflects on his history.
Marks (NSFW) - Kayce gets territorial when he sees another man's mark on your skin.
The Last Time - Lee gets to be with you one last time.
Feral - Rip gets a little protective after what happened with the Becks.
Fuck Phone - Travis gets rid of his fuck phone.
Colt 45 - Travis doesn't mess around when it comes to your saftey.
Texas - Ryan and you see each other for the first time in three months.
Truth - Walker admits he made a mistake.
Exactly Right - Jamie honours Lee.
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sophaeros · 20 days ago
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the strokes for rip it up - new zealand, october/november 2003 / no. 295
Scruffy, Sexy, Cool
The Strokes will make you happy again. A new album, lots of photos, and one sexy hangover after another is what they've got. It's all you'll need.
By Scott Kara
Julian Casablancas hasn't managed to make it to the interview.
He's keeping up appearances then. Two years ago this month Casablancas was two hours late to Rip It Up's scheduled interview to talk about the Strokes debut album, Is This It. Back then he was hungover and - in keeping with his scruffy, slept-in-his-clothes-look - was refusing to get out of bed.
Today, the Strokes front man is, yet again, otherwise engaged. We inquire of the Japanese record company person why Julian won't be doing the interview. "He hasn't come down for the interview," is the flustered response.
To be fair, it's not about refusing to get out of bed for anything less than US$10,000 like model Linda Evangelista did after being made famous by Casablancas' dad, John (who set up the Elite Model Agency).
Perhaps Prince Julian - crowned the hottest thing in rock'n'roll two years ago when Is This It was released - is hung over again after enjoying too many Kirin beers during the bands current stint in Japan? Who knows?
It's left to poor old Nikolai Fraiture - "the-shy-silent-bass-player" - to do the interview. Nikolai grimaces at the thought of more press but with all the partying, socialising and cavorting you've done lad, you should be used to talking by now. Fact is, he's not much of a talker. He's shy. It's hard to tell if his quiet demeanour today is annoyance that his band mate has decided to pull a fast one, or just because he plays bass and isn't used to media duties.
“There’s all the chaos around us that we just let happen.” Nikolai Fraiture, The Strokes
The Strokes are in Japan rehearsing and preparing for the double-barrelled Summer Sonic festival in Tokyo and Osaka — their first big shows since January. The festival bill also includes, Radiohead, Blur, AFI, Good Charlotte, Blink 182, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and, New Zealand’s very own festival whores, The Datsuns.
At the time of talking to The Strokes they’ve nearly finished their new album, Room On Fire, and after Japan head back to New York to do “finishing touches”. One vocal track and some mixing remains to be done. It’s due for release this month.
"This album is kind of a continuation of the last one. Just a progression of where we came from and where we're going," explains Nikolai. "It's hard to describe. But the best I can do is, that it's a continuation of the other album along with everything we've been through since then. We haven't settled down, it's still about how we feel," he says calmly.
Is This It is about living, going out, partying, having fun, playing music, loving, losing and, because they were barely in their early-20s when it came out, it's about growing up.
The hype surrounding these scruffy young things back then is well known. The music on Is This It inspired predictable tags like the saviours of rock, and leaders of the garage rock revival. But The Strokes were more about a sexy swagger, and strutting their way through life, crossed with the danger of the Ramones, and the vitality of the New York streets. Is This It makes you fucking happy - perhaps that's why you can put it on now and it still sounds good.
And the Strokes image and looks made them sex symbols, not to mention the epitome of cool.
But Nikolai just wants people to listen to the music. "We don't really have any control over that other kind of stuff," he says. "It'd be nice it people just listened to the music, without any prejudice." He stops, and then reasons with a laugh, "Just listen to the new album without thinking so much about it."
The Strokes — Casablancas, Fraiture, drummer Fabrizio Moretti and guitarists Nick Valensi and Albert Hammond Jr. — first played together in 1998. After doing the rounds of seedy bars — and even rumours of playing Valensi's sister's 21st — they scored a gig at New York's Mercury Lounge.
Nikolai points out that it wasn't all plain sailing in New York being in a band like the Strokes around that time. Put it this way, it wasn't exactly the heyday of the New York band scene of the 70s. "When we started out there was a bizarre atmosphere in New York. No one was really that open to playing with us. It's funny that we're all lumped together now, because nobody wanted to play with us back then. It was hard to find friends who were musicians," he remembers.
"We were just trying to create a good vibe, y'know, like back in the late 70s when many good musicians got together and played together and got along, went out and got drunk and stuff. But it didn't really work that way in New York at that time. We kind of came back to ourselves and did our own thing. We really tried to write the best songs that we could and played our instruments as best we could and give a really good live show.
"We definitely wanted, and want to now, do something not only different — because sometimes different can be kind of weird — but just something that's not pumped on the radio, standardised, made for the record company, and so we can make as much money as we can. I think what we really want to do is work really hard on our songs and what our instruments sound like, and what everything actually sounds like, To us, that's the most important thing.
"It's our main goal to get better as musicians. And for Julian to get better as a songwriter."
So what about all the drunken revelry, the parties and the high profile shoulder rubbing? Nikolai is, by all accounts, the self-professed quiet one of the bunch and he goes all coy when confronted with this. "I don't know how to answer that."
He takes stock. "There is, of course, the direct effect of what's going on that we have no control over," he says in reference to the celebrity status, "but other than that, it's still the same for us, we're still good friends.
"Our only purpose still is to play music together. In that respect nothings changed, but then of course there's all the stuff, all the chaos around us that we just let happen and watch go by.
"We don't really do it [go hard and party] until we're done with what we have to do. It's a bonus for us really. It's the way we looked at it at the beginning and I think a lot of bands get that confused — get the whole lifestyle confused with the partying and getting fucked up all the time.
"For us, we're allowed to if we get our shit done," he laughs.
The majority of the Strokes new album was done after they finished touring in January. "And we started recording in June. We didn't want ourselves to wait too long because for ourselves, we don't really like stopping because you lose touch with what you're doing."
For Is This It the band started out with producer Gil Norton who worked with the Pixies, Talking Heads and Foo Fighters. But the band resorted back to their tried-and-trusted mate Gordon Raphael, who produced their first EP The Modern Age in 2001.
While working on the new album it happened again. They started out with producer Nigel Godrich (from Radiohead fame) but resorted back to Raphael once again.
"For the second album we were hoping to try different things. We did it as well for the first album — with Gil Norton. We were mixed about that and it didn't work. So we went with Gordon for the album. And for the second we wanted to try something else but, and I think Nigel Godrich is a really good producer, but it would have taken too long. So we just went back to Gordon.
"We're not completely done with the new album yet, so when we go back to New York we're going to finish that, then do a few more small tours and then do the long haul. We're thinking about doing the Big Day Out," he hints, full-knowing we're from New Zealand. Lock up your daughters.
Sorry Girls…The Strokes Are In Love
Any talk of The Strokes' love lives cuts straight to the man of the skins, Fabrizio Moretti.
It's for an obvious reason. He got a great catch in Drew Barrymore. Okay, so she's somewhat flighty. But it's for real this time. She married a bartender for 19 days and then married comedian Tom Green — no one can explain that one — for five months. If that rate of increase continues, we figure Drew and Fabrizio have at least three years of marriage, give or take.
The happy couple was rumoured to be engaged in January, after less than a year of courtship. Wedding plans are already racing through the media. The latest on the grapevine disclosed that Drew is planning a traditional wedding at her Confessions Of A Dangerous Mind co-star George Clooney's Italian villa. Another source reported a one million dollar wedding to be held on Drew's Godfather, Steven Spielberg's ranch with a Brazilian-themed reception to pay tribute to Fabrizio's heritage.
The rest of the band's love lives are not nearly as exciting as Fabrizio's. Front man Julian Casablancas remains fiercely loyal to longtime girlfriend Colleen Barry, a New York based painter. Guitarist Nick Valensi is rumored to have split with on-again, off-again girlfriend Amanda De Cadnet. The former Playboy bunny was divorced from John Taylor of Duran Duran fame at 22 and is now a photographer based in Los Angeles.
Albert Hammond Jr and Nikolai Fraiture nicely balance their spoken-for band mates. Both are single, and ready to mingle.
Get This Rockin’ Ringtone Now
The Strokes - When It Started
To download the ringtone, simply send S30494 as a text message to 3083. You will receive our request within a couple of minutes.*
*Text messages cost $3.50 incl GST. Ensure your Nokia phone is compatible to download ringtones. This service is currently only available to Vodafone NZ subscribers. All messages sent will be charged so enter the code carefully.
Customer Support call 0800 486824, Compatible Nokia handsets: 3210, 3310, 3330, 3350, 6110, 6150, 6210, 6250, 7110, 7850, 8210, 8250, 8310, 8850, 9110.
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duranduratulsa · 6 months ago
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Up next on my Spooktober Filmfest...Halloween (1978) on glorious vintage Media Home Entertainment VHS 📼! #l#movie #movies #horror #Halloween #johncarpenter #michaelmyers #theshape #jamieleecurtis #lauriestrode #donaldpleasence #ripdonaldpleasance #NANCYKYES #NancyLoomis #pjsoles #CharlesCyphers #ripcharlescyphers #TonyMoran #nickcastle #KyleRichards #brianandrews #nancystephens #mickeyyablans #adamhollander #vintage #VHS #70s #Spooktober #october #mediahomeentertainment
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lunarmothim · 3 months ago
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gealladh - john mactavish x reader
part i: awkward first meetings gealladh- a promise, a pledge, a vow. one word to encompass all the various promises you made to johnny over the years, all the promises made to you. made, kept, broken. or, the life you could have had.
word count: 1.9k tags/warnings: canon typical violence, military inaccuracies, abduction/a bit of beating up, bad google translate russian probably, gaelic from learngaelic.net. established relationship, afab reader/female pronouns, no appearance descriptors given, reader of undeclared origin but implied scottish. if you see the little nod to makarov in the cover name yes you did lmao. additional tags tba!
@thatsamericasass24 here it is as promised lol. i'm starting to think my goal is to just shoot out a bunch of fics and see what sticks lmao. this one is 30+ planned chapters, the outline alone is 24k. it doesn't start the fluffiest but it will be i swear!! translations at the end but do yall want them in the actual text of the chapter?
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Moscow goes smoothly.
Too smoothly, to the point it sets your teeth on edge. You'd never known a CIA op to go this well, especially not when Laswell's involved, but you tuck the flash drive into your pocket and move on with your day anyway, glancing both ways as you exit the alley and walk back onto the street. You don't drop your guard for a second- years of training have taught you better, keeping you on your toes.
It pays off when an arm drapes over your shoulders, something hard and metallic tucked against your ribs. You glance down instead of up at the person at your side- a man, hairy knuckles curled around the grip of a gun and wearing an old watch with a dirty olive green canvas band. Military, maybe, the watch picked for function over style.
"что ты делаешь? отпусти меня!" What are you doing? Let me go! With no idea who has you, you keep to your cover, spitting Russian as a bag is tugged over your head and you're unceremoniously shoved into the back of a vehicle. Cold metal beneath you- a van, perhaps.
"Shut the fuck up," a gruff voice barks back, decidedly British- Manchester, maybe, a boot digging into your ribs. You obey, running through a catalogue of possibilities in your mind. Mercs, maybe, though if they're British it could be SAS- but you're sure if that were the case, Laswell would have warned them to be careful where they were poking their noses. You're in deep for this one- dyed hair, CIA deep- so even if they are people you know, the chances of them recognizing you are slim.
You need to get out of this, find a way to reach out to Laswell before this goes any further south.
Rough hands haul you out of the vehicle when it comes to a sudden stop, dragging you up a short set of steps, across a threshold, up a longer set of stairs. Safehouse, two levels. You're forced into a chair, squeezing your eyes shut against the sudden influx of light when the bag is ripped off of your head.
"Elena Markova." A different British voice spits your cover's name, and you pair it to the older face of the man in front of you. A quick scan doesn't give you much- civvie clothes, close-set blue eyes shadowed under a boonie hat, a cigar in his mouth, a dirty wristwatch you recognize from when he'd grabbed you. He's the only one in the room currently, but you can see a hulking shadow leaning against the wall in the hallway behind him.
"What is this?" you demand, maintaining the accent, your cover. Stall. Figure out who they are, what they want. "Where am I?"
"Just had a few questions for you," he says, crouching down into your eyeline, holding up the flash drive he'd nicked from your pocket. "Wonderin' what a pretty girl like you is doin' with somethin' like this."
"School project." You lie as easily as you breathe, fixing him with a haughty stare.
"On nuclear warheads?" he asks, raising a brow, and that startles you- you hadn't known what was on the drive, what Laswell had sent you to retrieve, certainly hadn't expected him to verify the contents so quickly. Shit. "Gonna have to do better than that, Elena, while this is still a… friendly conversation." You still can't place his affiliation- if he's SAS you could out yourself and end this right now, deal with the consequences from Kate later. If he's a merc, though, or an expat working with a foreign entity… you can't risk it. You keep your mouth shut. He sighs, shoving up to his feet and tucking the drive back into his pocket. "Alright then, have it your way." He pulls his cigar from his mouth, turning to wave in the shadow in the hall.
You barely have time to catalogue his appearance- tall and broad, thick muscles, no identifiers and his face hidden behind a plain black balaclava- before your head snaps to the side and you taste blood in your mouth. You groan, spitting out a mouthful of blood and working your jaw. You're pretty sure a tooth goes, too, skittering across the floor. Fuck, he hits hard.
Still, you say nothing, even when he spends a solid twenty minutes working you over, demanding answers about the drive. By the time he steps out to report to his leader half of your face feels broken, blood in your eyes. It's hard to breathe through your crooked nose, your jaw feels loose. You've definitely lost at least two teeth, you can see them on the floor in a small puddle of blood. You force yourself to focus, to catalogue your injuries- he favors his right hand, your right side only barely throbs. That doesn't make it hurt less.
Through the ringing in your ears you can hear heavy footsteps coming back, multiple pairs. You try to steel yourself, raising your head from its position on your shoulder as the door creaks open.
Three figures walk in, and your hazy eyes zero in on the new one- taking in the bag in his hands, the confused furrow of his brow, blue eyes you know better than your own sweeping over you. You exhale slowly, letting yourself relax only marginally. You're not sure if you should be relieved or not, but you drop your accent and your facade anyway.
"Coulda told me your friends were in town, Suds," you mumble, and it's like the ringing silence after a bomb goes off, his eyes widening in recognition.
"Steamin' Jesus." He drops the bag, striding forward against his teammate's protests to drop to one knee in front of you, the knife he keeps strapped to the front of his vest cutting through your zipties in one fluid motion. You hiss when he cradles your face in his hands, pain lancing across your nerve endings. "The fuck are ye doin' here, lass?"
"Undercover job." Your gaze shifts past him to the men still standing in the doorway and you take a shallow breath, wincing. Your voice is thick, nasally- you need to set your nose. "Better introduce me to the lads 'fore they start interrogatin' you next."
"Dinnae dae tha', ya dafty," Johnny warns with a sharp slap to the back of your hand when you reach up toward your face, bracing a hand on your shoulder while the other grips your nose. He tells the others your name, interrupted by your sharp noise of pain when he sets the crooked cartilage. "Sergeant in the 22. Who's s'posed tae be in Glasgow at her mum's righ' now-"
"Fuck you, MacTavish," you grouse, smacking his hands away in turn. "Had to tell you somethin', didn't I? You know how it is, Laswell says 'jump' you ask 'how high'." You swipe your sleeve under your nose with a grimace, taking another shallow breath. "Got a med kit I could borrow? My gear's across town."
"Aye, c'mon." You groan when he pulls you up out of the chair, sagging against him. He's tense, every muscle drawn taut as he leads you past the other two. You don't miss the way he shoots a glare up at the taller one, arm curling protectively around you. The man you assume is Ghost based on everything Johnny's ever told you is also visibly tense, dark eyes raking over you, over the injuries he'd caused.
"Not mad about it," you tell him quietly, and Johnny pauses, glancing down at you before tracking your gaze up to his friend. Your good eye squints, one corner of your mouth tipping up in some semblance of a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. "Would've done the same thing in your shoes. It's fine."
"It's not," he rumbles, refusing to meet your eyes. "M'sorry-"
"Don't. I'm fine." You're lying and he knows it, but he doesn't argue it. His gaze meets yours finally, his eyes unreadable. "You didn't know. You did what you had to."
"Still-"
"What, you gonna ask everyone you meet if they know Johnny before you interrogate them now?" You grin at him, baring your bloody teeth. "I'm good. Johnny might take longer to forgive but I'm solid if you are."
"I'm solid." He gives you a small nod and you see his mouth twitch under his balaclava, the barest hint of a smile. It falls just as quick, and Johnny leads you out of the room.
The kitchen feels three sizes too small under the weight of Johnny's silence, the way he drops his med kit onto the counter and preps his supplies without looking at you.
"Mad at ye," he murmurs when he turns to you finally, perched on one of the rickety bar stools, stabilizing your jaw with one large hand and swiping saline-soaked gauze over the cut on your cheekbone. His frown when you wince at the sting turns down one corner of his mouth more than the other, brow furrowing. "Cannae believe ye did this without tellin' me."
"Did I need to?" you ask softly, reaching up to curl your hand around his wrist, stilling his hand. "You do stuff without tellin' me all the time-"
"Tha's different-"
"Is it?" Your hand shifts, grips his jaw and tilts his head back until he's forced to meet your eyes, your frown mirroring his. "You know I hate keeping things from you, but I couldn't have told you even I wanted to. Laswell barely told me anything, and I'm the one she asked to dye her hair and spend the better part of a week stalking a Russian arms dealer."
"Then jus' tell me wha' ye do know. Ye think I'm gonna run off an' blab about it to everyone who'll listen? C'mon, hen, ye know me better than that."
You stare up at him for a long minute, contemplating. Finally, you sigh, shaking your head. "Damn it, Johnny, fine. But if Laswell asks you didn't hear this from me. She intercepted Konni comms, heard they were making some kind of weapons deal here and sent me to stake out and intercept the sale. That's all I know, I swear."
"Bonnie." His fingers reflexively press into your cheeks, eyes darkening.
"Don't," you warn, squeezing his in return. Your fingers follow the track of your eyes up to the starburst scarring marring his temple, the curve of the craniotomy scar, the lasting reminder of how you'd nearly lost him. He closes his eyes at the brush of your fingers against his scalp. "I know what Konni's involvement means. Probably remember it better than you do. Just… let me do this. Let me help you this time."
"Fine," he relents, and there's a new chill in the air at the absence of his touch when he releases you, dropping the dirtied gauze on the counter and reaching for a tube of antibiotic ointment. "But ye do not take any unnecessary risks, ye hear me? I dinnae know what we'll be up to on our end but if somethin' happens I won't be able to get to ye. Bith sàbhailte."
"Gealladh, mo cridhe," you murmur, and he finally gives you that crooked smile you love, swiping the ointment across your cheek with one finger. "You better be safe, too. If Laswell comes to my door and tells me you've been shot again I'm gonna kill you myself."
"If my ma doesnae beat ye to it," Johnny chuckles, helping you down from the bar stool and tapping his knuckles gently against your chin. "C'mon, then. Should let Laswell know we met up with ye."
You don't miss the way he doesn't repeat the promise back to you, something heavy settling in your chest.
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Bith sàbhailte - be safe (this one's mashed together from 2 different words in the dictionary on learngaelic so might not be 100% accurate) Gealladh - promise Mo cridhe - my heart
please like/reblog if you enjoyed! top divider by: @/saradika-graphics line divider by: @/gildui
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fanficforlife · 2 years ago
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Chapter Seven
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"And?" Anna asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. 
"And, we dropped Tate off at school then we picked up a few things for the ranch. After he took me fishing at the river. We didn't catch anything but I did push him in. He pulled me in with though."
There was laughter on the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Oh, honey. I'm so happy for you. Have you told him yet?"
"Um, one time when we were kissing a few weeks ago it started to go a bit further, I freaked out. A flashback of the last time Nick..."
"And?"
"I told him that Nick r-raped me. He figured it out actually and I just confirmed it. I know I need to tell him everything but I'm scared. I...I really like him. What if he changes his mind about me? What if he tells me to leave because he doesn't want to risk it if Nick does find me? He has Tate to think about so-"
"Violet," she cut you off, "if he's as great of a man as he sounds, everything will be okay. Especially since his father and brother know and they asked you to stay after you told them."
"Yeah..."
"There's only one way to find out and the longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to tell him. It's kind of like a bandaid, just rip it off."
"I know, you're right. John is watching Tate tonight so Kayce and I can have dinner. We're going to have it in an old trapper's cabin on their property. If we tried to in the house, Tate would be there talking a mile a minute... I should, I will tell him tonight."
"It's going to be okay, hun."
"I hope so." You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "I should go so I can start getting ready."
"Alright. Don't worry about telling him, honey. I love you and I can't wait for you to tell me that he didn't change his mind because of him."
"I love you too. Tell James I said hi. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it goes. Have a good night."
"You too. Talk soon, hun."
*
A knock on your bedroom door drew your attention away from your reflection in the mirror. You opened it to see Kayce standing there wearing jeans, a black button-up shirt, his boots, and a cowboy hat. 
His jaw dropped when he saw you. "Letty, you look amazing."
"Thank you." Heat crept across your cheeks as you looked down at the simple flowy, knee-length black dress with straps tied into bows on top of your shoulders that you had on. "You look nice too. I even got clean jeans this time." You teased. The other times the two of you had spent time together, it was usually during work or right after he was done. He was almost always dusty or dirty, not that you were complaining. He always looked good.
"Only the best for you." The red on your cheeks darkened and he smirked, stepping forward. He leaned in and gave you a small, soft kiss. "Ready to go?"
"Mhm." You slipped your hand in his waiting one and headed for the front door. 
*
The two of you walked hand in hand across the yard and through some trees until you got to the cabin. He opened the door for you and the smell of pizza hit you. One of my favorites. "You remembered." 
"Of course I did. It's pretty easy since it's also one of Tate's." He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you your waist. "I had to go to town to pick up some stuff for the ranch so I picked one up for date night." After placing a kiss on the side of your head, he took your hand and went inside. 
An hour later your plate was still full and you hadn't spoken more than a handful of words. You had only been able to pick at the slice due to the nerves already filling your stomach. 
"Baby?" Kayce's hand wrapped around yours, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Are you feelin' okay?"
"Yeah, I just- I'll be right back." You got up and went into the washroom. Your hands gripped the edge of the vanity. Tears pricked your eyes from the what if's. What if he breaks up with me? What if he wants me to leave? What if he gets mad? No, it doesn't matter. I have to tell him. After taking a deep breath and forcing the tears back, you opened the door. 
He immediately stood up and walked over when he saw the look on your face. "What's wrong?"
"I...I'm ready to tell you everything."
He guided you to the couch and you both sat down. Your eyes immediately went to your lap. "Hey," He gently hooked his finger under your chin and lifted it. "Remember, no matter what."  
A sad half-smile formed before you took a deep breath. "Um, it-it was always just me and my mom. I never knew my dad and she didn't have any other family. She was the best. She was a waitress at this great little restaurant and during high school, I started working there too." Your hands wrung together tightly. "The...the last month of my senior year I met Nick. He just finished training to be a police officer and started at the station a few blocks from the restaurant. He asked me out a week later. My mom didn't like him but she said it was my decision. Ten months later she died in a car accident. She was always trying to get me to break up with him but I loved him. I should have listened to her..." You trailed off as happy memories of your mom played through your head. 
"I'm sorry, baby." His hands reached for yours and you squeezed them gratefully. 
"I couldn't afford our rent by myself so Nick asked me to move in with him. Everything was good for the next year. Then the real Nick started to poke through. When he got mad he would call me names or say things but he always apologized and everything would be okay again. It went on like that for a couple more years. He became a detective and was great at it." You swallowed. "His parents were having a dinner party with their friends and family the night of my twenty-fourth birthday. They invited us and Nick insisted we go so we went. Before dinner, his parents thanked everyone for coming. Then Nick went up. He asked me to marry him, I said yes. The dinner party was actually to celebrate our engagement. Things went downhill from there. He went from just saying things to grabbing and pushing me. He was always jealous but it started getting worse." You took a shaky breath at the memories. "He wanted me to quit waitressing even though I loved it. His family came from money, his dad's the mayor, his mom stayed home. He never had to worry about working if he didn't want to. Whenever we were out and he had to introduce me to family or friends, they would make a disgusted face, like I wasn't good enough. I could tell he was embarrassed I was just a waitress so I quit. It wasn't long after that that he started getting mad about me still hanging out with my friends. I didn't have many, just a few people I worked with. He eventually cut them out of my life. That's when I started baking, I needed something to do. I also had to keep the house spotless or he'd get mad." You took a deep breath while Kayce's hand had a death grip on yours. "One day when I was doing laundry I found a girl's phone number in his pocket. When he got home I confronted him about it. He got mad at me for going through his stuff and admitted he had been cheating on me the entire time we were together. I took off my ring and set it on the table. He...he hit me."
Kayce let out a gruff breath.
"He apologized right away and swore he would stop. I knew I shouldn't but he has a way of getting into people's heads and I believed him." 
"He didn't change." Kayce gritted out and you shook your head. 
"A couple of months later I smelled perfume on his shirt. He kept picking up girls at the bar or getting together with old ones. I tried to break up with him and he got mad. He said the other girls didn't matter. I was the one he wanted to marry and be seen with. I laughed and he hit me, hard. He picked me up off the floor and pushed me against the wall, he said I couldn't leave because he needed me and couldn't live without me. He said he'd stop. He begged, got on his knees. I knew...I knew I should have left but I was scared, he was all I had. The things he said, I wanted to believe him. The next few months we moved into a new house and his mom and sister said we should finally start planning the wedding because I kept putting it off. I tried on dresses worth more than a years worth of rent for my old apartment, tried countless flavors of cake. We set the date for ten months later but there was something deep inside, a feeling. I couldn't marry him. When I told him, he lost it. He threw pictures on the floor, swore, and said terrible things. I told him I would stay so he would stop. After he fell asleep, I threw a few things in a bag, took the money he had in his wallet, and snuck out. He found me a few hours later at a motel on the edge of town. He dragged me home, hit me, choked me. I ran into our bedroom but couldn't lock the door in time. He threw me onto the bed and...and said he needed to remind me that I was his."
"Fuck." Kayce's fist hit the arm of the couch. "Letty, baby." His hand came back to yours.
You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "The next few weeks, I acted like nothing was wrong. I made dinner, went to his family or friends when he wanted. When he got mad he would hit me, choke me. I was outside having coffee one afternoon when the neighbors came out. They saw me and invited me over. I talked to them a few times in passing but it was always just a hi. I invited them over instead so if Nick came home early he would know where I was and wouldn't freak out. They told me all about their lives. He used to be a lawyer before he retired. They didn't have any kids, they loved traveling. I lost track of time and Nick came home. He was mad because dinner wasn't ready until he saw I wasn't alone. He changed back into the fake we're the perfect couple Nick as they got up and left. The second the door closed he hit me. He thought I told them about what he was like and since they didn't know him they would believe me. He didn't want me to talk to them anymore. I knew I had to get out but I didn't have my own money. I wasn't working and my name wasn't on his bank account or any of his credit cards. I started hiding the money I found in his pockets when I did laundry or what he left lying around on the dresser. I would take money out of his wallet whenever there was a lot in there so he wouldn't miss it. After a month and a half, I had almost two thousand dollars. When he went to work that day I packed a couple of bags and left. He found me two weeks later in Mississippi. He grabbed me and threw me in the car but on the drive back to California, he was quiet. He was the Nick from the very beginning of our relationship. He said he didn't know what he was thinking the past few years, cheating on me, hitting me. He said he would go to a therapist, we could go. I wanted to believe that he actually changed this time but the closer we got to Southaven, where we lived, the more scared I got. Our neighbors were outside when he pulled into the driveway. Nick told me to stay in the car and he would open the door for me. The little sliver of hope I still had disappeared because I knew why he wanted to open the door. He didn't want me to talk to them. After he grabbed the bags, he opened my door and said he would do the talking. They asked where I went because they hadn't seen me around, Nick said I went to visit my mom. They knew my mom was dead because I still went over to visit them after he told me not to. Before they could say anything else he grabbed my wrist and took me inside." You took a deep breath as your hands started to tremble. 
Kayce moved closer to you and slid his arm around your waist. His other hand came back to yours. 
You held onto it tightly and stared at your entwined fingers as memories of that night played through your head. "I've never seen him that angry. He did everything like he would before; yelling, hitting, choking. But, harder, longer. I was lying on the kitchen floor trying to catch my breath after he choked me and he...he grabbed a knife." Kayce inhaled harshly. "He made the cut on my face so if I ran away again it would be easy for him to find me. I could change my hair, wear hats, different clothes but everyone would remember the girl with a scar down her face." You could feel the rage emanating off of your boyfriend. "He made me clean up before he dragged me into the bedroom and...he..."
"He's dead. He's fucking dead." Kayce swore, knowing what happened next. 
"After he said he would kill me if I ran away again, I didn't know what to do. If he found me after two weeks, I thought he would be able to find me anywhere. I did whatever he wanted because I was scared of him. I was miserable. I started thinking about e-ending it...me." Your voice was whisper quiet. Kayce gently pulled you onto his lap and leaned in, kissing your shoulder. You looked over and smiled at the sweet, caring man who was the opposite of your good-for-nothing ex. 
"I was on the porch checking our mailbox one day when our neighbors came out to do the same thing. They saw me and invited me over for a glass of iced tea. I knew Nick wouldn't like it but they insisted so I did. While they were telling me about one of their recent trips my sweater slipped off my shoulder and they saw a bruise on my arm in the shape of a handprint. I told them Nick stopped me from falling down the stairs but I knew they didn't believe me. I tried to leave but they stopped me and begged me to leave him. I told them he wasn't as bad as they thought. By then they knew he was a cop and who his family was. They let me go, if I promised to visit them whenever Nick was at work. They were the only thing that put a real smile on my face. I loved spending time with them. Nine days before I was supposed to marry Nick I was at their house and they handed me an envelope. Inside was five thousand dollars and a fake ID and birth certificate. When James was a lawyer, there was a guy in his firm that had a case involving fake documents, he tracked him down and got him to make me some. They told me they had a bus ticket with my fake name on it that was leaving in forty-five minutes, and a suitcase full of clothes for me. I didn't want to go, I was scared Nick would find out they helped me. After he cut me he said if I ever run away again, he would kill anyone who helped me. But, they wouldn't take no for an answer. They had a wig for me to put on before I left so when he looked at the traffic cameras by the bus station he wouldn't know it was me. When they dropped me off they gave me the phone so he couldn't track my number. Before I got on the bus they gave me a hug and told me I was like the daughter they never had..." you swallowed before looking at him with tear-filled eyes. "If-if you don't want me to spend time with Tate anymore because of Nick, or you-"
"Stop." He cupped your face. "Nothing that that piece of shit did to you changes my mind." His perfect eyes pierced yours. "I love you, Letty."
"You-you don't have to say that because of what I told you."
"Baby, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Your hair was blowing in the wind as you stood in front of the house with your suitcase. I knew then that you were it for me. You are the kindest, strongest, bravest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I am the luckiest man in the world because you let me call you mine." His voice was filled with emotion. "I love you, Violet."
"Kayc," tears started to fall from your eyes. 
"I'm not expecting you to say it back. We can move as slow as you want, as you need. I'm not going anywhere." His thumbs brush the tears off your cheeks. "Can I kiss you?"
You leaned in and pressed your lips against his, giving him your answer. Your hands slid over his shoulders and pulled him closer as the kiss intensified. Nick disappeared from your mind and For the first time in you didn't how long, you wanted more. 
When you finally parted you were both out of breath. "Letty?" He could feel this kiss was different.
"I...I want to..."
"But?" He knew you were holding something back. 
"What if we start and I can't?"
"If you want to try and you need to stop then we stop." 
You chewed on your lower lip nervously. 
"Baby, I'm not going to be mad. I told you that I'm not going anywhere. You are the only woman I want to be with. I'll do whatever you need me to and wait however long you need."
You nodded slowly. "Can we try?" Your voice was quiet.
"Yeah, baby." His hand slid across your cheek. "Can I go outside and grab more firewood first? It's starting to cool off in here, you're starting to get cold." His thumb ran across your cheek. 
"Mhm." You stood up and he followed suit. 
"I'll be right back." He gave your forehead a soft kiss before going outside. 
In the meantime, you grabbed the blankets off the couch and made a cozy spot on the floor in front of the wood stove. 
He came back in with an arm full of already chopped logs that were piled up against the side of the cabin. A smile pulled at his lips when he saw the makeshift bed on the floor. 
"I'm pretty sure that's the most uncomfortable couch in the world." You giggled shyly. 
He put a couple of logs on the fire and set the rest on the floor before walking over. One of his hands went to your waist while the other came up and rested along your jaw. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you're not ready, it's okay. I'm perfectly happy just holdin' you."
"I want to." You swallowed. "I want you, Kayce."
"I'm yours, Violet." He leaned in and kissed you. 
After a few seconds, the need you felt for the kiss to develop into something more returned and your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt. His hands left you so you could slide his shirt down his arms. As it fell to the floor, you pulled his T-shirt off. He unzipped his jeans and added them to the pile while you untied the straps of your dress. It pooled around your feet and his eyes took you in. 
"You are perfect."
Red crept across your cheeks while he closed the distance, one hand went to your cheek while the other went back to your waist. You shivered from the sudden cool touch. 
"Sorry."
"It's okay," you giggled. 
"Come here." He sank down onto the blanket and you sat down on the floor next to him. "Better?"
You nodded as you immediately start to warm up from the fire and the blanket that he pulled over the two of you. Your hand came up and slid across his jaw before pulling him in. 
His hands went to your waist and held you close while he kissed you. Your mouth parted, your tongue slid across his as the kiss quickly became heated. He unhooked your bra before slowly lying you down. Your lips finally parted and he hovered above you. "Do you want to keep going?"
"Yes."
"We can stop anytime you want to, just say the word. Okay?"
"Okay."
He sat back so he could take his boxers off and grab a condom from his wallet while you pulled your underwear off. His eyes traveled up your naked body before he crawled back between your legs. You nodded as he looked down at you so he reached between you and positioned himself before slowly entering you. Your eyes automatically closed and you tensed up. 
He immediately pulled out. "Letty, open your eyes. Look at me." You did and the second you saw his warm brown eyes, you relaxed. His hand slid into your hair. "Do you want me to stop? We can and-"
"No, don't stop. Please."
"Stay with me, baby." His eyes pierced yours as he entered you for the second time. "Right here."
You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. "Mmm." A small moan escaped as he filled you. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into you again, all while keeping your eyes glued to each others. Your ex and all of the terrible things he did vanished from your mind. It was just you and your cowboy. Your hands slid into his wavy hair and pulled him down, your lips met his fiercely. He kissed you back while continuing to move inside you. One of his hands stayed embedded in your hair, the other slid around your lower back and held you close. That small shift had him hitting just the right spot over and over again. 
"Kayce," your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders. 
His hold on you tightened, molding you to his body as he continued thrusting.
"Mmm," you moaned as heat began growing rapidly in your core. Your breathing picked up and within seconds he took you over the edge. "Kayc!"
"Letty." He was right behind you groaning your name. His eyes held yours until you both came down from your highs. When your breathing started to return to normal, he leaned in and gave you a long kiss before lying down next to you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Are you okay?"
You looked up at him and smiled. "I'm okay. More than okay." He chuckled huskily as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "Really though, I am."
"Are you sure, baby?"
"Yes. It was just you and me. Everything else, the memories, they disappeared." Your hand came up and rested on his cheek. "You are an amazing man, Kayce Dutton. You're kind and sweet. You were beyond patient with me and when you found out about my past you didn't run away. You make me feel normal again. You make me feel safe." Your thumb ran across his skin. "I love you."
He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. When you parted there were tears in your eyes. "Hey, talk to me."
"I just...I'm happy. After the past couple of years, I never thought I would be again. Then I came here and found you and Tate. Your family and everyone here have been amazing."
He wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye. "This is your home now, Letty. He is never going to hurt you again. I won't let him get anywhere near you."
"Promise?" You asked while memories of the horrible things he did played through your head.
Kayce could tell what you were thinking and pulled you closer. "I promise."
"Thank you."
"I know I've said it before but I would do anything for you. I love you." His lips met yours and you melted in his arms. 
When you parted, you both lay there nestled together under the blanket, listening to the crackle of the fire. All of the cows on the ranch were marked with the Yellowstone brand, a Y, but this was the first time you had seen the same brand on Kayce's chest. Your fingers traced over the raised, scarred letter that covered most of his left pec. "Did it hurt?"
"Yeah." 
"Why did you do it?"
"I didn't, Dad did."
You quickly tilted your head back and looked at him with wide, watery eyes. The tone of his voice, you knew it wasn't because he asked his dad to do it. "Why?"
"Hey, shh." He smiled softly when he saw the tears in your eyes. "Come here." His arms tightened around you and pulled you close. After kissing you, he eased back onto the pillow. "I graduated a couple years before Tate's mom got pregnant. We met at a party and it was just a one-night stand. When she got pregnant, she came to the ranch because she heard about my family, the money. We found out that she got arrested regularly because of drinking. She didn't work and a lot of the money she did get from the tribe she spent on alcohol. She didn't want a kid and came out to say if I didn't either then she was going to get an abortion. But, if I did, she would keep it as long as we paid her. Dad said yes, as long as she didn't drink while she was pregnant. Dad even paid for an apartment for her to live in while she was pregnant because she couch surfed from place to place before. She didn't drink during the first four months but one day when Dad went to check in with her, he saw a couple of empty beer bottles. After that she did off and on until Tate was born. Thankfully, he was in perfect health. She didn't want anything to do with him and signed him over as soon as she could. That was the last we saw of her. She died a couple of months later. Her and the guy she was with were drinking and driving. They hit a tree." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It didn't really sink in that I was going to be a dad until the nurse came out to where Dad and I were waiting and handed him to me. He was so small. The first two weeks after we brought him home were rough. I was scared. I was still a kid, how was I supposed to take care of one? I didn't think I could, I didn't want to try...I panicked and joined the Navy. I could leave for training in a few days. Dad freaked out. He told me I wasn't going and had to stay and take care of my son. We argued, and when he realized I wasn't going to change my mind he did this. He thought that it would make me needing to stay here sink in. It didn't. I was angry at him, scared of my son...I left. That's when Dad hired Mrs. Sanders. While I was gone Jamie and Lee kept in touch; calling, letters. They sent pictures. I finally came to my senses when Tate turned six. I quit the Navy and came home. I-I know Im a horrible dad-"
"What? Kayce, no." You propped yourself up and turned his face towards yours. "You are an amazing dad. Tate loves you."
"I shouldn't have left. I was selfish and stupid and-"
"And, I know that you would take it back if you could."
"In a heartbeat. I would have stayed, I should have stayed."
"But, you've made up for it. You and Tate have an amazing relationship. He looks up to you. You're the foreman of the largest ranch in Montana, he wants to be just like you when he grows up." He nodded slowly. You knew what was going through his head. "What you told me doesn't change how I feel about you. You are a great dad, a hard worker, and the most amazing man I could have ever hoped for. I love you."
"I love you too, Letty." Your lips met for a searing kiss. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to find you."
"Technically, I think I found you."
A playful smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and he chuckled. "I think you're right."
"I'm right? Wanna say that again?" You laughed when he squeezed your sides. 
"You're right, this time. Don't get used to hearing it though." You giggled before starting to sit up. 
"No." He whined.
"I'll be right back." You reached for his shirt that was lying close by and slipped it on, doing up a few buttons, before getting up and going to the kitchen. When you turned around with what you went to get, Kayce was watching you with a smile on his face. "What?"
"You look good in my shirt."
"Yeah?" You straddled his lap, after setting two bottles of water and the pizza box on the floor close by. 
"Yeah." His hands went to your waist and pulled you close. "Stay here with me tonight? We don't have to do anything. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms." 
"What if I want to do that again?"
"We can do whatever you wanna do, baby." He smirked and it made you bite your lower lip. That smirk is going to drive me crazy...in a good way.
**************
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