diwadepthsquad-blog

[rystiel]

my first fiddauthor art ever for some reason

[bubblyani]

Back for Good

(Jim Davis x Reader)

A Jim Davis One Shot

Movie: Harsh Times (2005) by David Ayer

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Alcohol use, Swearing,  Violence and Sexual Content

Word Count: 9k+

Summary: Your spirits are lifted when your older boyfriend Jim Davis returns from the Army for good. As the lovers passionately reunite, you begin to reminisce the first encounter, and the unforgettable event that sealed your fate with Jim, possibly forever.

Author’s Note: One of the fantastic Balehead Accounts on Instagram once posted a photo of Jim Davis with a caption more so along the lines of “…Older boyfriend Jim visiting you at College…”. It was too irresistible to ignore. So this story was born. @tammykelly You are an angel to even show some enthusiasm towards this, even before I started, Thank you for the encouragement ! Hope y’all enjoy!

P.S: If anyone want to be tagged in specific Bale! Character fics please do let me know. And if you wanna be removed from anything NOT BATMAN, please feel free to let me know. I understand completely. 

Three.

It costed three people. Merely three for this nightmare scenario to enter reality.

A tall young man panted fast, his right hand assuming full responsibility for the broken bottle, not to mention the intense bleeding that resulted from it. All the while he stared down at his finished product: a much younger man. He watched the figure groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; as a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head as well, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement. Only in that moment, realization and bitter reality coupled up to surprise the standing man, with a sucker punch.

Which was transparent enough for the young woman beside them, the witness. Violence, Danger, her trembling heart sensed it all. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, never did she flinch. Never did her heart consider retracting from him. On the contrary, she was compelled to trust him even further.

Especially when she sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go”

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 (Present)      

The dusky skies appeared just as serene over South Central Los Angeles as anywhere else in the country, filtering over the streets and the neighborhoods. Cruising through in favorable speed, Mike Alonzo finally took his eyes off the road, permitting them to land on the tall, young man sitting beside him on the passenger seat: his best friend, Jim Davis.

His downcast expression was evident, with his tall frame sunken into the seat. He stared right ahead, while he sipped his bottle of beer in his suit. This posture was nothing short of a surprise for Mike to glance upon. If he had squinted his eyes, he swore he could imagine Jim as the rebellious teenager he once was. Only with a new buzz cut. Otherwise, it seemed that nothing had really changed.

Except it had. Older and forced to be responsible, they were facing times considered very harsh. And Jim just had a taste of it.

“Sorry, dude”

Mike began, looking back at the road. Shaking his head with disbelief, Jim sat up in slow motion as his teeth began to grind.

“Man! Fuck…this...shit!!”

Jim drawled with disappointment, enunciating every word whilst holding up a piece of paper, “I’m so done with this cop hate bullshit!” He added, taking another sip of alcohol. Mike nodded:

“Yeah, dawg. Forget about that! ” He smiled, smacking his friend on his shoulder in a playful demeanor, “Hey, Syl is cooking tonight…You wanna join us, bro?”

The possibility of his girlfriend Sylvia agreeing to this, was at an all time low. Mike was well aware. Yet, he was certain it was a question worth posing to his friend in need.

“Nah, man! I got plans”

Hitting the brakes in front of the stop lights, Mike looked at his friend again with surprise, “Yeah?” He inquired, looking quite pleased. Finally flashing a proud smile, Jim nodded:

“Yep! Gonna go see my woman soon…” he answered. Eyes widening seemed appropriate for Mike at that very moment.

“Yo, No shit!” Mike cried out with excitement, finally stepping on the gas, “The chick from UCLA*? You…you still with her?” He inquired.

“Yeah, Homie! ”

“Dawg!…” laughing with sheer amazement, Mike looked at Jim, “I’m impressed…really” he added, proceeding to chuckle, “Look ‘atchu…my boi Jim....going steady with the fine ass college chick…”

“Whoo!” With his soul finally returning to his body,  Jim howled, “Finer than fine, dawg!”

“Hell yeah!”

Given the state of hyped energy that erupted in the car between the two young men, it would be nearly impossible to guess how sombre it was just before. “So…so…” Mike continued, holding on to the wheel as they kept driving, “… where you gon’meet?”

“Well…actually…” Jim looked at him, licking his lips, “….it’s a surprise” he added with a playful smirk. To which Mike could not help but laugh, “What?” Mike paused, “You didn’t tell her you’re back for good?”

Seeing his friend shake his head like a naughty schoolboy forced him to laugh harder, “Ohohoho!! this is gon be one hell of a reunion, dawg” He added with sheer enthusiasm, “But seriously though, she’s a real good one too, bro…” Mike opinionated, as soon as his laughter died down, “ I mean, even Syl liked her”

“Shit! For real?”

“Yeah yeah yeah…” Mike answered immediately,  “And you know Syl, she ain’t easy to please”

Gulping down the remnants of the bottle, Jim exhaled and stared out through the window, “Shit man!” He exclaimed, “I’m really gonna see her again, huh?”

With his tone growing deeper, his eyes began to burn with a flame that could only be categorized as lustful. Sensing the vibe that did not seem so new, Mike chuckled:

“Oh yeah! My homie’s gonna get it tonight! Salud*”

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The buzz, the chatter of young adults was consistent in the hallway outside. It served as background noise when the door of the toilet cubicle burst wide open, spitting a rather young woman out of it with haste. Only then did the mirror managed to identify her: You.

With your hand clutching on to a bra, you let out a relieved sigh. For within a few seconds, your body experienced a new form of liberation. And you managed to savor it on your own in a public ladies washroom. Wearing a soft smile that was easily reflected in the mirror, you stuffed the piece of lingerie into your shoulder handbag.

“Seriously?”

You jumped with a yelp. Being so wrapped around in your own thoughts, you did not even notice Yara, your friend standing there. With her arms folded and eyebrows raised, it was clear that her face was rife with judgement.

“What?” You inquired breathlessly, “Auntie Flo* is about to visit…and the twins were just swelling to …get some parole time” you added with a playful smirk, pointing at your chest with no shame. The curves of your now-freed bosom seemed more visible through your cardigan top, “And fuck! it feels so good” you exclaimed, as you washed your hands. Yara however, scoffed with amusement:

“So you’re saying you were squirming in your seat the whole time to let the puppies out?”

“What? I had to pee too!”

“Well, You could have just left right then!” She insisted with a seeming annoyance, as you grabbed a tissue.

“…and miss Mr. Linney’s Final Notes? Uh uh! No way, bitch!” You waved your index finger with disapproval as you both exited. Students had flooded the hallway by then. Evening lectures at UCLA finally had drawn to a close, and Friday night was about to make its entrance. Youth in all shapes and colors, gathered in bunches all over the campus area, even beside the beautifully lit Royce Hall. Suffice to say, all were relieved to have some time off in the weekend.

“So…you coming, right?”

You looked at Yara upon her casual inquiry with confusion, “For what?”. Scoffing again, this time in disbelief, Yara's eyes widened looking at you: “Dinner?…tonight?”

She stressed, taking a step out of the campus building, “Last week you promised you’ll join me and Chase” with her arms folded and foot tapping on the ground in pure restlessness, she was a clear visual of a loanshark. However, that impatience left her system the moment her eyes fell behind you,“…and speaking of Chase…Baby!”

With her face lit up, her tone grew affectionate as Chase, her boyfriend rushed over to her.

“ ‘sup babe!” The tall, young blonde greeted, pulling his ebony goddess of a girlfriend for a passionate kiss.

Folding your arms, you could not help but avert your eyes. All the while you drew circles with your foot on the ground. Chase and Yara’s relationship certainly was a refreshing one to glimpse upon in the campus premises. You approved of it with sincerity, even when you looked away in awkwardness. It was not on spite. Truthfully, PDA was nothing you disapproved of. You were certainly not envious of the joy they possessed as their lips played with one another, quite similarly to a steamy MTV music video. You merely looked away, for any display of affection was a sheer reminder of him.

It had been months since you last saw him, possibly 6. And constant communication was not exactly convenient for him. Not in his situation. Was he alive and happy? The sheer reminder of gunshots and helicopter whirring forced your heart to race, which was nothing short of new. Granted, you had learnt to ‘compartmentalize’, a term you recently came to knowledge in your psych minor class. Yet, you were young and only human to have those concerns return to haunt you even for a few seconds. The sound of Yara and Chase’s lips smacking urged you to look up. Finally, you thought.

“So?” Yara inquired, casually wiping the smudged lipstick off her face, “You coming?”

Carefree, yet extremely inconsiderate, that was what she exuded. A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach. For oddly enough, the sight of the happy couple managed to drain your energy out tonight. You longed to run away.

“Honestly…” you began with a sigh, “I don’t really feel so good tonigh-”

“¿Qué pasa, guapa?”

   What’s up, gorgeous?  

That voice. That deep, spine tingling tone was a reminder of your mere existence. The tone that tempted every hair in your body to stand at attention. Turning around in a flash, you covered your mouth, shocked to find the person you prayed to see all this time.

“JIM??” You cried out in a muffled tone, “Oh my GOD!!-”

Squealing in pure joy, you sprinted towards Jim Davis before jumping into his arms. Seemingly extremely pleased, Jim let out a hearty laughter. Suddenly the energy you were drained had returned in the form of a shot of adrenaline when he picked you up and spun you around, kissing you without hesitation. And you swore the feel of his lips on yours added a couple of years into your life.

“Wait, you didn’t tell me you were coming back so soon” Breathless, you pointed out when he finally put you down.

“Well, I’m back for good, baby” Jim replied, extending his arms outward with pride. Your eyes widened: “What? You serious?”

“Yep…” he grinned nodding, “Honorably discharged…and all yours”

You sensed his tone morph into a low purr the moment he pulled you close to him. And you would be lying if that did not fill your stomach with butterflies. After ages.

“Umm….”

Yara’s voice emerged. You and Jim turned back, to find her and Chase appearing the most confused, “…you mind telling us who this is…?” She inquired with raised eyebrows.

Finally in realization, you chuckled. For introductions were in order.

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The aromatic scent crept into your nostrils, only to soon disappear out of the lack of attention provided. All the while an uptempo Latin Pop track playing in the background mingled with Yara and Chase’ voices, but unfortunately faded away into mere mumbles. For none of that seemed to be the key focus for you tonight. Not when Jim Davis was around.

Even seated at a crowded Mexican Restaurant, he mattered the most to you. Even when platefuls of delectable Taquitos* were served to the table, your eyes did not leave his irresistible side profile. And when his sense of expertise noticed and his eyes caught your gaze, you were breathless. You wondered if it was the romantic in you surfacing, for all seemed to appear in slow motion. His eyes remained seductive, washing all over you that it was certain your panties might melt and diminish into thin air. Those eyes were truly sorcerous, that your eyes suddenly had lives of their own to the point you could sense their figurative cheeks heat up with heavy blushes. For his eyes, they were proficient in the dirty talk as much as his mouth was. Breathing in his cheap cologne with depth, you suddenly grew aware of his touch, and the fact he had his arm wrapped around your shoulder all this time. Being lost in his eyes was definitely an out-of-body experience.

“Hey!”

Your soul reunited with your frame upon Yara’s call.

“Mmm?” Looking over at the couple sitting across the table, you and Jim were unfazed.

“Aren’t you two gonna eat?” Yara inquired with raised eyebrows while Chase had began to gobble. Her gaze questioned both your sanity. To which you and Jim could not help but chuckle in response. Shaking her head, Yara scoffed:

“It’s so weird…” she began, “…seeing you like this”. Wiping the crumbs off his mouth, Chase joined in with confidence, “Yeah! How did you guys even meet anyways? I mean, no offense but…we never thought she’d be the one…” he stressed, pointing at you, “… to have an older boyfriend who’s a Marine-”

“-Army Ranger” Jim corrected. His gaze and tone was dominant, enough for Chase to wither with intimidation.

“Yeah…” Chase nodded with a gulp, “…what you said…”. You would be lying if you admit you did not enjoy that sight.

“Actually…” you finally began, “We met a year ago” turning to face your boyfriend, “ He was back in LA during his break. We met at a bar”

“Hold up! ” Raising her hand, Yara was wide eyed, “How come I didn’t know about this?”

“Cause this happened a year ago, hun. Calm down” you chuckled, “Actually, this was even before Cin transferred. Hah! you didn’t miss much…Don’t worry” you assured upon seeing Yara’s pout, “It was a small bar, but I loved the Pistos*-I mean…” you paused with a smile, “….the beer there…” Your pause caused Jim to chuckle alongside once again. Safe to say it was a chuckle that encompassed a shared memory. A sweet reminder of your first ever meeting.

“And?…that’s it?” Chase inquired with amusement, with both hands resting on the wooden table, “You both meet at a bar one night and…” he whistled, “…then sparks flew?”

Looking at them both, you could sense the suspicion in their eyes. You longed to answer, however it was not so easy to do so. Pausing, you struggled with a response.

“Absolutely!”

Jim answered for you with nonchalance, while his grip on you tightened. For a split second you both exchanged a gaze of reassurance. And you had never been more relieved. The secret was safe.

“So…”, Turning towards the couple, Jim began, “How did you lovebirds meet then?”

Hesitation was certainly not in Yara’s vocabulary when she offered to speak. Leaving her sight, your eyes darted towards the the chilled beer that Jim placed on the table. You smiled to yourself. They were certainly filled with memories.

Reminiscing your first meeting with Jim Davis, never failed to be exciting every single time. Before Yara ended up in your life, there was Cindy. Noticing your evident sadness due to her surprise transfer to USC*, Cindy was hell bent in comforting you, thus suggesting you join her and her boyfriend Ray for a night out in South Central. You agreed, being desperate enough to spend the final few days with your roommate. Situated at the suburbs, this bar was small, intimate and seemingly inhabited by those who knew Ray, which resulted in a welcoming atmosphere upon arrival. Though the place was mostly filled with gangsters, you did not care for the slightest, when especially you found yourself falling for the unexpected; The beer.

Chilled to perfection, the beer there was unlike any that you had tasted before. And it was certainly a surprise, given they were the usual brands. You could not fathom the refreshing sensation that trickled down your throat with the first sip. That sensation tempted your hips to sway, urged your feet to move in rhythm. All in syncopation with the music that played in the jukebox under the dim lights. Until finally bumping into a man woke you from your intoxication. A man you were fascinated with in an instant:

Jim Luther Davis.

Such a pity that Yara’s gusto-filled story barely reached your ears. For reliving a memory simply seemed sweeter for you. Thus, you continued to do so.

Fortunately, Jim Davis did not end up being a handsome stranger that you simply bumped into, for coincidence had other plans. Especially, when he and Mike Alonzo turned out to be Ray’s mutual older drinking buddies. You were ecstatic. Internally, of course.

With the entire group packed together in the booth table, it was one loud but engaging hangout. Except for you. Somehow you preferred to sit right next to Cindy in silence, being distracted by two things: Beer, and Jim.

Blame the chemicals embedded in your system, for you simply found yourself drawn to him. Truthfully, it did not seem so difficult to begin with. Not when he turned out to be your type in appearance. You found yourself watching him. The manner in which he listened to others with swagger and confidence, the manner in which he held himself ; They all brought a certain air to him. Your attention had pierced through all manner of secrecy that he would occasionally end up catching your gaze. And then you would look away, quick and embarrassed. Though you must admit, it was a game you thoroughly enjoyed playing. But at the same time, you felt idiotic and childish.

“Cat got yo tongue, baby?”

You blinked, looking up. Fabio, one of Ray’s friends threw the query over to your direction, all of the sudden. And with that, the table grew quiet. All the eyes landed on you, except for Jim’s. A surge of embarrassment rushed towards you when awkward silence filled the booth. For you were definitely distracted to the point you did not follow the conversation. With you struggling to form an answer, Fabio snickered:

“Yo Cindy, What’s up with yo friend? She deaf or somethin’?”

“Easy, homie”

Before Cindy could respond, Jim’s quick reply arose. And you swore your eyes caught the sight of his hand ball into a fist as his eyes had grown dark. Oddly enough, that was the comfort you needed right then.

“Don’t mind me, Fabio…” you shrugged with confidence, “I’m just a girl hooked on her Pistos” you said, enunciating the Spanish word before taking another sip. You may have smiled at him, but you knew how much you feigned it. Awkward silence remained intact. But Ray managed to save the night, by changing the topic of conversation. Slightly embarrassed, Fabio shot you a look. All before he leaned towards his friends, muttering some words in Spanish.

“You speak Spanish?”

Jim’s low query made you turn to him.

“N-No…” you answered with nervousness.

“Well…” he began, “…you should” Though his tone was of seriousness, he did not fail to flash you a soft smile that comforted you even further.

Thus, the evening progressed. And you began to notice Jim in much detail. The more you did, you discovered a warmth that seemed to trickle down your heart. For you realized, you would not be able to stop yourself from falling for him. Hard.

You smiled to yourself, relieved Yara still did not know you were drifting away in your head, stuck in a memory.

Unable to stop obsessing over him since that first night, you remembered how you found yourself returning to the same bar the following night, alone.

Stepping into the venue, you suddenly were aware how unprepared you were. Even while placing an order at the bar counter, you remembered covering your mouth with embarrassment. Was this a mistake?

“Hey Baby! ”

Jumping in your barstool, you sighed with annoyance when you realized it was Fabio sneaking up on you.

“Just…” you feigned a chuckle, “Don’t call me baby, okay?”. Evidently ignorant, Fabio seemed to have chosen to stay. To your dismay. Sporting gold chains on his neck and wrists, Fabio was on a dire attempt to emulate a thriving gangster, when he actually was just another college kid like Ray.

“So, whatcha doing all by yourself, baby? Don’t tell me…you’re here to see yo boi Fabio?”

Keep telling yourself that, you thought. Exhaling in frustration, you maintained a tight smile, “I uh…just waiting for someone” you struggled. Flashing a mischievous smile, Fabio leaned in closer. You prayed he would not notice how your nose scrunched up by his heavy cologne with disgust. And how your body tightened when his eyes scanned you from top to bottom, licking his lips by the sight of your choker and your red, floral short dress.

“Who are we kidding?” He sniggered, “You wanna piece of this, huh? Come o-” “No!” You cut him off, “I’m really…” feigning a chuckle once again, “…waiting for someone…Thanks” you said, extending your hands in defense. Given the reaction of those around you, it may have been a louder response than expected. For Fabio turned red, making it his queue to slither away. You sighed deep. Luck did not seem to get on with you from the moment you stepped in here. Was this a mistake? When you felt a finger tap you on your shoulder, you rolled your eyes and turned around. For you were ready to give Fabio a piece of your mind.

Except, it was not Fabio.

“Hey…”

Jim greeted you, his deep tone announcing his arrival. Standing at an appropriate distance, he stood tall with a hint of swagger. Your body began to finally relax by the sight, especially when your eyes were refreshed by the open plaid shirt worn along with his white vest and baggy pants.

“Hey…” breathless, you began, “Hey!” Confidence finally became you as you repeated with a smile. The bartender caught your attention the moment he placed a chilled bottle of beer on the counter before you.

“Make it two, Hermano* ” Jim said, handing the man some cash. All the sudden, guilt washed over you as you gasped: “Oh I-”

“I got this…” Jim assured, seeing you reach into your bag. Grateful, you nodded, “So…” he began, “Can seem to get enough of them Pistos, hmm?” An inquiry left his lips the moment he received his own bottle. Smiling shyly, you bit the side of your lower lip. The manner in which that word rolled out his tongue caused excitement. Besides, his mouth suddenly seemed more delectable. Oh, his mouth.

“Yeah…” you admitted, “Can’t get enough…and I hope I never will”

You added, gazing directly into his hazel orbs. It simply was a mistake to do so, given how those eyes burnt with curiousity, urging you to blush in return, “And er…” pausing, you looked down, “ I was kinda hoping I’d catch you around” you said, looking up again.

“Yeah?” Jim inquired, genuinely surprised, “Why?”

That was when you froze. He was right, what exactly was your intention of seeing him tonight? Unfathomable on how you gathered courage to blurt that silly line in the first place. What if you dragged yourself all the way here to be rejected? What if there never was a form of enthusiasm from his corner as you hoped? What if this ends up being the story of a silly sophomore college girl, having delusions over an older man?

You chuckled with a nervous tone, “Well I-…” you paused, as your pulse began to grow loud within you, “Sorry…” you muttered, sliding off the stool, “This was just a stupid idea. I should go-”

“Wait!”

You turned upon Jim’s call. Showing his bottle, he shrugged:

“These Pistos aren’t gonna get finished themselves, hmm?” He dared to pose that inquiry with a playful grin. Smiling back involuntarily, you knew you had no comeback for that.

You remembered the chill outside the bar that night. The breeze that caressed your exposed skin of your legs were still fresh in your memory. Gazing at whatever stars your eyes could make out amidst the city lights, you and Jim sipped on the chilled alcohol from the porch. Given the fact there were little to none outside, the evening was unexpectedly intimate.

“Your uh…” clearing your throat, you finally broke the surprisingly comfortable silence, “Your friend not with you tonight?”

“Mike?” Jim inquired, to which you nodded, “Nah! he’s got his hands full” he answered with a smile.

“You guys close?”

“Hell yeah…He’s my homeboy, ya know? Since we were kids”

“Sweet. Must be nice.” You smiled in return, looking back at the sky, “I uh…remember that you serve. Iraq, huh?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Fallujah* ” Jim answered with a nod, looking at you.

“Whoa…” you breathed in wonder. Silence took over once again while your tongue  savored the beverage.

“And you?…UCLA?” Jim spoke before wiping his mouth, “Man! That’s some fancy ass shit right there”

“Yeah well… it ain’t a walk in the park…” you contradicted in a shy tone, forcing him to shoot you a look of concern. To which you chuckled, “I’m on scholarship, I mean…” you added, helping him come to realization, “Hehe yeah…I had to nerd my way into that gig” moving side to side, you could not help but take another sip,“But, I know…what a good thing I got going on. And I know… if I screw it up, then I’m FUCKED” you enunciated the end, which drove him to laughter. You adored how it soothed you somehow.

“Well…” he began, “…whatever fucking takes, right?”

You nodded, “Hell yeah…Here’s to…uh…positive shit! Hah!” You laughed as you both clinked the bottles together. The more alcohol that chose to settle in your system, the bolder you became:

“What’s it like?”

“What?”

You fully turned to him, “Being out there…in Iraq…” you continued, “I mean…I’m guessing you’ve seen some shit…” you inhaled, “you know…shit you can’t forget, right? I mean, shit like that…” you scoffed, “….that shit can fuck…you…up…” at that moment you could not help but find yourself lost in thought.

But Jim’s surprised expression made you pause. You chuckled in embarrassment.

“I’m just…guessing…” you muttered, sipping once again. Perhaps you went a tad bit too far with the blabbering. For your cheeks began to heat up with worry. Until Jim spoke:

“Well…Shit or no shit…Follow orders, that’s what we do” Instead of a frown, Jim replied, taking a huge gulp from his bottle.

“Yeah…I get it” you nodded in a fast pace. Robust, and straightforward, his attitude was to be admired. Funny you found yourself staring at his side profile long enough, his face could easily be compared to that of a statue. Perfect in proportion, your mouth began to dry out. You were attracted to him, shamelessly so.

“I-”, You paused, suppressing a grin, “…never mind”

“What? What is it?” He asked, looking at you. To which you shook your head frantically.

“Nah, it’s really silly…”

“Come on!…tell me” Fully turning, Jim insisted with a smile. His voice had its way of being persuasive. And his voice had its way of tearing your defenses down, or so it seemed. Taking a deep breath, you began:

“I kept thinking about this but…” you paused, “Last night, you said I should learn some Spanish… Why?”

Desperate for more interaction, that was your excuse. Jim responded with a shy chuckle. Certainly was worth it.

“I mean, we just met and you barely knew me…” you continued with a smile, “So…why?” As your question grew more confident, your inner desperation grew strong. Taking his last sip from the bottle, Jim surprised you by taking a step towards you:

“You really wanna know the truth?”

“Try me” , You replied, quickly finishing your own bottle, all without breaking away from his gaze.

And thank goodness you finished it. For you would have surely dropped it. Especially when Jim stood dangerously close to you, causing you to be immediately aware of the muscles between your thighs contracting. Even more so, when his irresistible eyes traveled from your very own all the way to your alcohol stained lips.

“Cause…” he purred, “…you have no fucking clue how sexy you sound”

You both may have chuckled to his line, but that did not mean your pulse did not quicken. Which increased in speed the moment his eyes took hold on yours once again. Seduction, he certainly was proficient in it. And you, were a witness. A witness who suffered from internal combustion of frustration.

You inhaled deep, “Really?” “Yeah…” he breathed in a sultry manner.

Just when you thought no force on earth could break this eye contact, the door burst open. Some men exited. Breaking away, you looked at your watch watch in an instant. You sighed. Real Life was calling you.

“I…I gotta go…” downcast, you muttered with guilt, “Class tomorrow…” adding extra guilt, you knew that excuse certainly did not put you in a good light.

“Lemme drop you then…”

Jim’s nonchalant and nonjudgmental reply urged you to look up with relief. Smiling in agreement, you watched him enter the bar with the empty bottles. And in that very moment, a tingling sensation filled with thrill washed over you, leaving no inch unattended. Butterflies returned to your stomach, fluttering harder than ever before in your life. Were you being hopeful? Could Jim Davis be desiring the same? Goosebumps traveled through you when that tingling sensation returned with much detail. Too much detail to be specific.

Until you realized it was real. And Jim’s hand was directly at fault here.

Blinking back to the present reality, your eyes caught the sight of Jim’s chilled fingers on your leg. They ran over over your inner exposed thigh in circular motion, thus, inciting the tingling sensation. Of course, no wonder the detail was accurate.

Yara and Chase were oblivious to all this, for they were caught up in their own love story as she kept yapping. But that was only the fact Jim kept on such a convincing focused face. He may be ‘listening’ to your friend, but his hand was evidently not. The longer his fingers lingered on your skin, the more you were reminded of him. And the more you began to tingle and sweat in the most unexpected places.

You were young, and unapologetically shameless. 6 months. It was exactly 6 whole months since you were last physically intimate with your boyfriend. And with studies piling up along with the expectation of a scholarship holding sophomore, ‘getting yourself off’ was never an option. Not with a roommate around.

The tingling sensation grew even stronger. And you began to hear your own quickening breath. Jim Davis’ elongated fingers, they spoke of pride. You longed for them to travel to locations far more adventurous and private than your thighs. Especially when they were rife with experience. Truthfully, it was a fact that his hands and his delicious lips and tongue were fluent in your body than your own self. Being pleasure deprived for too long, the mere thought of him ravishing you, aroused you even more. Aroused, and certainly very starved. The kind that food simply could not satisfy.

“...and under the stars…” Yara continued, holding on to Chase with lovestruck eyes, “…he told me he loved m-”

“Excuse me!”

Cutting her off, you cried out as you stood up in an instant.

“What’s up with you?” Chase inquired, whilst Yara looked offended.

“Just I gotta…pee…” you lied, eyes landing on Jim, “…now”

“Okay…” you heard Chase mutter in kind as you left the table, “…TMI, but whatever”

In all fairness, being judged was the least of your concerns. With every speedy step you took, the faster your heart began to beat. Storming into the empty ladies room, you found yourself staring at a mirror once again, with a heaving chest and noticeably flushed cheeks. It was plain to see, you were engulfed in the flames of pure arousal, and the fire needed to be put out.

And when the bathroom door opened up once again, you turned to find the fireman enter. Wearing a serious expression, it was slightly difficult to decipher his thoughts.

“I…” you struggled as Jim strode towards you, “I didn’t know what else to do-” Except he knew. When he attacked you with a passionate kiss.

Jumping into him was reflexive. Wrapping your legs around his waist seemed almost choreographed. Finally resting on the washroom sink, it was quite safe to admit how both of you were very much relieved to be the only occupants in the room. For there was no intention of holding back. Your denim skirt hiked high up, revealing your thighs in completion under the white fluorescent lights as Jim stood between your legs. And they were much cared for, as his hands gingerly rubbed them back and forth while his lips indulged yours with hunger.

“You think they know I lied?”

Breathless, you inquired with innocence. Except you did not receive an instant reply. Not when you found yourself gasping when he pulled your head back by your hair with a growl. With liberated access to your bare neck, Jim celebrated by placing equally starving kisses all over, resulting in your surprising moans.

“You think I fuckin’ care?” He chuckled into your skin, to which you could not help but chuckle back:

“Oh no, you bad boy” you purred in tease.

“Oh yeah, baby girl …” purring back, his reply incited a giggle out of you before he kissed you once again.

“Ay Papi*!” You breathed into his lips before he snatched up yours for good. Surroundings were simply irrelevant the moment the kiss turned intense, as his tongue crashed in like the rude boy he was, and grabbed onto your own tongue in a passionate embrace. They clashed against one another in frenzy, him claiming you as his. As the kiss grew deeper, your moans grew louder. When he pulled away all the sudden, whimpers left your lips with desperation. Teasing you so, Jim took a good look at you:

“¿Como esta tu Español?” He breathed low. And you were pleased that you actually understood.

   How’s your Spanish?  

Pressing himself against you, he began to slowly grind. You grew excited. Listening to Jim Davis speak Spanish was simply erotic in the first place. And since you have been studying it on your own for past few months, you were certainly impatient to show him.

“Yo…” you began, finding the words “…estudio pala-sorry…” with a nervous chuckle, you looked down, “..I know I suck-”

“No no…keep going” Jim insisted with a smile, bringing your chin up for a reassuring kiss, “Now say it again…” he added, maintaining eye contact with ferocity. Taking a deep breath, all the words clearly appeared in your head. Thus, you flashed a mischievous grin:

“…estudiando palabras…muy importantes”

   I am studying…very important words.  

Gasping was all you could do when Jim picked you up, carrying you into the nearest toilet booth. Thankfully with this restaurant being surprisingly hygienic, you did not mind. Life barely was embedded in your legs the moment he put you down, locking the door behind you to push you against it.

“Oh yeah?” He inquired, panting, “¿Cómo cuál?”

   Like what?  

Panting alongside him, you stood up straight, “Por ejemplo…”

   For example…  

Amidst his pants and his impressed expression, you grabbed his hands, placing them over your buttocks. All the while you looked at him with eyes, heavy with lust:

“¡Haz lo que quieras!”

You could not believe how confident you sounded. Smiling with equal lust in his eyes, Jim kissed you in approval, definitely pleased with what he just heard:

   (Do) whatever you want!  

Growling with effect, his animalistic nature was exuded as his hands gripped onto your buttocks with passion. His big, generous hands felt through every cheek with familiarity, as if they just reunited with a long lost friend. But that did not mean he forgot about all the other friends, the rest of your frame that had missed him as well. Moaning with pleasure, you began to unbutton his white shirt during in haste.

You simply adored his hands, for they were as passionate as his Spanish was. As he proceeded to hold on to your hips, your own hands roamed over his torso over his white vest. Except you froze the second his hands landed on your chest. Shaky breaths exited your lips as you shivered by his touch, for your breasts were at its most sensitivity even through your thin cardigan top. Palming them generously, Jim groaned into your lips:

“Fuck! I missed you, Guapa”

“I missed you more, Papi”

Confessing in return, you kissed him once more. Moans of desperation mixed into your kisses the moment his hands dipped inside your cardigan crop top, only to make direct contact with your untethered bosom. You winced involuntarily, even from his touch so gentle. Jim chuckled with seeming victory. And you were not afraid to admit, how you were simply in the palm of his hand.

Usually, during the peak pre-menstruation, you dared not let anyone come close to you, let alone touch you. But when it was Jim Davis, those rules halt by the door. He was a man who could maneuver his touch. However, he certainly was no good boy. Proceeding with his sweet torture during kisses, you were relieved to have a door to keep you balanced. For his long fingers, they flicked, encircled and pulled your now-sensitive nipples, keeping them fully erect and thoroughly visible even through the clothes.

Gripping his vest even tighter, you pressed your thighs together, for intense levels of pleasure and sensitivity crashed within you, akin to an avalanche. In truth, it simply was an overdose, and you could not handle. You were a mere animal trapped in this cage of frustration. But like an animal, you managed to set yourself free. You pushed Jim back with such force, that he ended up sitting on the closed toilet seat behind him. A surprised expression adorned his face when you straddled him in the process. Peeling your cardigan off your torso, you hinted your need for him. Which immediately was motivation for him to unbuckle his pants. However, his eyes did not fail to leave your sight while he did. For his eyes revealed nothing but pure amazement and hunger. He inhaled deep:

“Fuck!” He uttered, while his hand dipped into his hardened manhood.

“Yeah, that’s right Papi…” you breathed, maintaining the ironclad gaze. All the while you permitted his hand to feel the intense dampness of your opening, “Fuck me!”

And thus, public decency went flying out the window the moment the lovers fully united. The manner in which his hands rested on your bare back; whilst you moved upwards and downwards in syncopation to his thrusts, it drove you wild. The manner in which his generous and erect shaft felt so familiar inside of your tight walls, was too intoxicating as always. His mutual desperation and hunger translated well, as his lips savored on your swollen and sensitive bosom as if they were treasured food rations. Tingles were divided into million branches, impacting every form of stimuli in your system. But even in the midst of these endless waves of pleasure, that certain question from Chase yet lingered in your mind:

  “And?…that’s it? You both meet at a bar one night and…then sparks flew?” “Absolutely!”  

For in truth, it was not just a night of drinking and playful flirting that caused this relationship to blossom. And just like that, You could not help but recall further.

And peek into the moment that remained stored in the deepest corner of your mind. In the form of a secret.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With arms folded, you kept on waiting. Long enough for the chill outside to grow stronger. Long enough for you to begin pacing nervously. Even long enough for several men to exit the bar during. Given its cabin exterior, it became more and more evident that this was more of an old fashioned bar. You sighed. Jim was certainly taking a little bit too long inside.

Paranoia knocked on your heart’s door, forcing you to welcome it inside with reluctance. Thus, several questions began to occupy your thinking space. Was there trouble inside? A possible Bar Fight? You shook your head, for you were surely being delusional. Or worse, was this a part of his plan all along? The player type to ditch you for someone else? Perhaps with someone better looking that he just met. Envy formed in your heart towards a woman that possibly may not even exist. Your stomach turned in a merciless fashion. When the door opened again, a surge of hope grew in you. Could it finally be Jim?

Except it was not.

“Baby! You still around huh?”

Fabio said, in a pleased tone, exiting the bar. Clicking your tongue in an involuntary fashion, you turned away with frustration. For he was the last person you hoped to lay eyes upon.

“Hey-Wha-What’s the matter?” Fabio cried, “Can’t look at a friend?” Whilst he tapped you on the shoulder repeatedly. Alcohol was strong in his presence. And the fact he stood uncomfortably close certainly turned your stomach even more.

“Well, technically you’re not my friend” With a forced smile, you turned to him, “You’re Ray’s friend, OKAY? ” a snappy tone exited your lips. And for a split second, there was genuine offense painted in Fabio’s face.

“Just tryna be nice, jeez!” He muttered low, with arms lifted. Coming one’s senses, you finally drew in deep breath while letting your arms loose.

“I…I’m sorry, dude”  you said, in a soft tone, staring the droopy eyed young man. Being Cindy’s friend, your last intention was to cause friction Ray and his friends. Your tone seemed to have been convincing enough, for Fabio flashed a soft smile in return:

“It’s okay…” he replied, to which you were relieved.

But that relief was short lived. Especially when Fabio leaned forward with puckered up lips in an instant, forcing you to gasp.

“What the hell, man?” You inquired, pushing him back with aggression.

“Ah come on, baby…” he drawled, chuckling in a playful manner, “Just one kiss…I mean, look at you! You still waiting out here. For who? I know… you really came here for me” with open arms, he went in for an embrace. Scoffing, you pushed him back again. That was when your pulse quickened again. To the point you hoped to flee.

“That’s it! I’m leaving! ”

You snapped, darting away from the entrance. The concern of leaving Jim behind or finding a cab did not seem problematic anymore, for all you needed was to get away. However, a painful cry left your lips when you felt your hair being pulled back. Your eyes widened. It was an angry Fabio.

“Ugh! Why you being such a Puta* right now, huh?” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you closer “Oh wait I forgot…” he snickered, “….you don’t understand Spanish, right bitch?” turning you to him. The alcohol had certainly rendered him more maniacal than ever.

“Don’t’ be a jerk, Fabio…” You cried, as you began to swing desperate punches towards his direction. But your defenses were lowered and moot, the moment he grabbed you tight by the wrists. You gasped, “..let… me… go! HELP! ”.

However, despite your cries, no one came to your aid.

This feeling, certainly was the ‘stuff of nightmares’. This feeling, had haunted you every now and again in imagination. To have it form into reality, was worse. No matter the force you exerted to free yourself, it seemed moot. For Fabio had the upper hand with his strength. And you were overpowered with intimidation. With the heartbeat increased in record speed, your heart was on the verge of exploding with fear. For the first time, you feared for your life. You despised the fact there was no one around, the fact this bar was on the outskirts. Almost close to tears, You heavily despised the fact you may be getting hurt in more ways than one tonight.

Until you heard a bottle shatter. Loud.

Glass fragments dripped from Fabio’s head as he cried out with immense pain. His grip on you loosened before he dropped down to the ground. Only for you to find Jim Davis standing behind him, with with a bottle broken in hand, and sheer rage in his eyes.

Rolling over, Fabio caught the sight of the man, “Jim??” He groaned, “What the hell, man? Why you helping this bitch-ARGH!”

A kick in the stomach was Jim’s choice in response, which incited more cries from the fool.

“THE FUCK YOU TOUCH HER FOR, HUH?” Jim yelled, his loud voice piercing through the tension like high pressured flames. However, the question seemed rhetoric, when he continued to kick Fabio, aggression growing more and more evident, “FUCKING…ASS…HOLE!” With tightened fists, he enunciated with each kick, “MOTHERFUCKE-”

“JIM!!!!”

You cried in an instant. And that very moment was when he finally froze. That fateful moment, you watched his face change, for his expression was clear as day. As if a wave of realization washed over him. As if bitter reality surprised him with a sucker punch.

All the while he stared down at his finished product: Fabio. He watched the the young man groan for his dear life, laying defeated and thoroughly bruised; all the while a weak stream of blood appeared prominent from his head and his mouth, adding a splash of bright color to the dark and dusty pavement.

Which was transparent enough for you, the witness.

You regretted being frozen with shock. If it only was for you to control. Thankfully a shred of it reached when you finally mustered the strength to call for him out from a potential murder. Violence, Danger, your trembling heart sensed it all. All from Jim. For that was what his strong aura emitted. However, despite your shock, never did you flinch. Never did your heart consider retracting from him or running away.

On the contrary, you were compelled to trust him even further. Especially when you sensed complete safety in him, above all others.

“Let’s go…”

You found yourself uttering those words, as you took his hand in urgency. Pulling him with haste, you both fled from the scene. Adrenaline coursing through the veins whilst running away, leaving a wounded man laying in his own mess before anyone could find out.

You remembered how Jim drove. Quiet, but focused. He drove and drove, until the bar disappeared from your sight. He drove to the point you both found yourselves ending up at a remote beach. And finally, time had returned to its normal pace once again.

Calming sounds of the ocean waves filled your ears, while the sight of the foamy waters barely were visible in the darkness. You watched Jim slowly take his hands from the wheel, rubbing his face. Your eyes widened, when you noticed his hand bleeding slightly. Perhaps from the broken bottle. You longed to speak, however no voice was present. Pushing the seat back, Jim slowly crawled over to the back of the car. Silence overpowered for too long, which urged you to clear your throat and speak:

“A…Are you ok-”

“You’re right, you know…”

You paused, upon hearing Jim’s interruption. Looking back from the front passenger seat, you found light finally shining on his face. Much to your sadness, cracks formed in your heart by the sight of his expression. Especially when silent tears streamed down his chiseled face. As if his mask of bravery was stripped away. Or even melted.

“You’re right…shit’s been crazy over there…” he chuckled with sadness, “…worse, shit’s crazy over here too…” he said, pointing at his own head.

Joining him in the backseat, you took the bandana off your head without hesitation.

“The thing’s I’ve seen…” he continued in mid-whisper, “The shit I had to do. The shit I wanted to do. It’s fucked up…so fucked up”.

It was unfathomable. Witnessing emotions of Jim Davis on variant scale in one single night, including him unveiling his vulnerability, you did not know where to begin processing. Simultaneously, those cracks in your heart, they could not help but form deeper to the point you ached inside. For a second, you were filled with an overwhelming desire for this misery in his heart to disappear. You longed for him to smile again. You froze. Were you tasting a slice of pure affection? Perhaps even, love? For him?

“It’s too fucked up…I’M fucked up-”

“Hey…hey…”

Your voice cracked when you finally began, leaning towards him, “Shhhh…It’s okay…” you said in comfort, while rubbing his forearm, “…its okay…I’m here” you said, as you occupied yourself with tending to his bleeding hand as a coping mechanism. The bleeding that he did not even notice.

With his hand on yours, the heart did feel heavier in comparison. As if his hand was magnetically powerful enough to keep you nearby. Thus, forming an attraction. Not the type that stirred the loins, but merely the kind that longed for you to wail on behalf of him. The kind to carry the pain for him. As if you did not wish to carry on another minute of your life, without knowing he would be well. And you would be lying if you did not want to show him that.

Your trembling hand reached out for his surprised face, turning it towards you with patience. The deep breath you took, it occupied your lungs in completion. Butterflies exploded in your stomach , causing a riot before you moved close. Close enough to feel his breath on your face. And close enough to press your lips on both his cheeks.

You tasted his salty tears, that stained his face. Pressing your own lips together, you hoped you could share his pain this way. Your eyes were smart, urging your voice to take a breather, whilst they gazed at his lips. Those lips that turned you greedy the moment you saw first laid eyes on them. And his trembling breaths of despair were enough for you to finally dispose of any form of hesitation.

For you finally moved to kiss him ever so gently on the lips.

With your kiss, you were there for him, in spite of it all. In spite of the violence and the tears. And the moment you instantly felt Jim kiss you back, you knew you were hopelessly his.

All the sudden, a dose of sweetness was infused with the salty kisses, weakening the flavor of the beer that lingered in his mouth. Selfishly, the need for comfort vanished. For all you needed was him. In every possible manner. Safe to say, Jim wholeheartedly agreed.

A sudden injection of passion entered your systems, setting your bodies in its entirety, in flames. Which also included the loins. Powerful enough for you to straddle him, powerful enough for Jim to flip you down to hover over you. And certainly powerful enough for the both of you to make love.

You treasured it all. The manner in which his fingers were precise, hooking on to your panties to gingerly peel them out of your frame. The manner in which his eyes gazed upon your own, then traveling all the way south to take in the sight of your now exposed opening, that dripped with wetness, blushing in its own means and begging him to explore it. Thus, it was to be expected, when you welcomed him inside you effortlessly. As if it had waited for him all your life.

Even for the first time, Jim was fast, and was rough. Yet surprisingly, you did not care. You knew where it originated. And it seemed most apt.

While he moved in body, he fled in heart. Away from the horrors, away from the pain. This resulted from his need for a distraction. Amidst the syncopated moans that filled the car, you cupped his face. Looking right into his hazel orbs, you witnessed his need. His need for a distraction. And at the peak of climax, you witnessed his desperation. His desperation, that urged you to never him go.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

         (Present)      

“I failed the test…”

Jim uttered low, capturing your attention. With your face buried in his neck, you heard it louder than ever. Tilting your head, you sat up straight to face him, confusion taking over. After reaching climax following a session of passionate and exciting love-making in a restaurant toilet booth, there you both were in recovery. Never did you expect him to break the silence with a statement such as this.

“What do you mean?” You inquired in a half whisper.

“The Psych test…” Jim elaborated, while you proceeded to put your cardigan top back on,  “…for the LAPD gig” sighing, he was downcast “I failed that shit…”

“No….” You breathed. The disappoint that was rife in his tone, somehow pierced through your heart. Thus, ushering in a wave of sadness that came crashing in, “Baby, I’m so sorry…” you said as you embraced him tight. To your surprise, Jim held you tightly in his arms in return. For when he buried his face on the crook of your neck and remained in silence for a mere few seconds, it was evident that was what he was required of. A rush of butteries attacked as you gently cupped his face.  You loved this man, and your heart was the witness.

“Fuck the cops if the they can’t relate” you said through gritted teeth, before kissing both his cheeks, “Fuck ‘em! Cause something better is comin’ ” you added with a soft smile, while your thumb ran over his upper lip, “We just gotta ...keep our heads straight”

To your relief, Jim seemed amused, “Speaking from experience?”

You smiled with pride, “You could say that…”

Both of you chuckled. “The point is…” you continued with a deep sigh, and huge smile, “I’m glad you’re back for good, baby”

Except for his own smile, it vanished right then. And in turn, his eyes watered and they shone, reflecting nothing but desperation and vulnerability. You took pride in being the one to witness it, just as you did that fateful night a few months back. Stroking your head with both hands, his forehead gently touched yours:

“¡Eres mia!” He breathed deep.

   You’re mine!  

How dare he? Expanding with immense warmth and impatience, it did not take long for your heart to gain rapid pace, as it was your very first time.

“¡Si, para siempre!”  You answered with confidence. For it was simply the truth.

   Yes, Forever! 

——————————————————

Index

UCLA : The University of California, Los Angeles Salud: Spanish term for “Cheers!” Guapa: Spanish term for Beautiful, Gorgeous Taquitos: A Mexican Food Dish Pisto: Mexican slang. A general term for an alcoholic beverage (usually beer) USC: University of Southern California Fallujah: A city in Iraq Papi: Spanish Term for Daddy Puta: Derogatory Spanish term for bitch, whore

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[starbuckie]

Some Quarantine Lovin’ Chapter Six: When Can I See You Again?

Marvel Highschool!AU

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Obscene amounts of fluff, kissing, swearing, kinda a lot of angst

Description: Bucky Barnes is absolutely, no doubt about it, in love with Y/N L/N. He’s loved her since the day he laid eyes on her in the third grade. He loved her when he had his own girlfriend, and when he was barely friends with her for a whole summer. And of course, in his freshman year, they are now stuck together. In a house. During a worldwide quarantine. This should be fun.

Words: 3,555 words

A/N: We are almost at the end! Jeez, I can’t believe it. Anyways, I don’t have a lot to say, but the little story about Sam missing his final is definitely based off the time in freshman year of highschool when @transparentfestivaltiger​ came to class late and had to retake her final, which I still bully her about to this day. As always, thank you to my dearest Geena for being my sassy beta, and y’all need to check out her writing(@transparentfestivaltiger). MAKE SURE Y’ALL ARE STAYING SAFE AND SOCIALLY DISTANCING AND WEAR YOUR GODDAMN MASKS PLEASE! enjoy this chapter, loves <3 

George Barnes’ funeral took place nine days after his death. It was a small affair consisting of just Y/N’s family, a few of Mr. Barnes’ work friends, the Rogers’ family, and, of course, Bucky and Becca. Bucky gave a small speech, one written about his father’s life and what he had accomplished, but he didn’t speak one word about what events had taken place inside of his family’s house. There was nothing else he had to say about his dad, no words of endearment or love. George was buried at Evergreen Cemetery, and as his father was lowered into the ground, Bucky was finally able to let go of the burden he had felt all his life. 

After they finished the ceremony, none of his father’s friends hung around, due to the ongoing quarantine. Steve’s family stayed, saying they had to talk to Y/N’s parents about something. “Hey, guys.” Steve said. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

Bucky sniffled, most of the tears dry on his face and nodded. “Yeah, it has been, pal.”

Y/N stood by his side, baby pink mask covering her face, holding baby Becca. The fifteen-year-old girl couldn’t even imagine how this all felt to the baby. Would she even remember this? She could barely even talk, still letting out little baby gurgles at one year old. As the two boys talked, six feet apart, of course, Y/N wondered what would happen to the Barnes’ siblings. Bucky was only fifteen, he only had a job during the summer, and he needed a legal guardian. He and Becca couldn’t live by themselves yet. Would they go to an orphanage? Or be taken to a family far away? She couldn’t stand that thought. Y/N knew it wasn’t her choice, but she couldn’t help but be a little bit selfish. They needed to be with a family who loved them, who cherished them, and most importantly, that they loved back. “Y/N?”

Bucky’s voice made the girl snap out of her thoughts, and Becca giggled happily and made grabby hands towards her older brother. Y/N envied her innocence. “Hey, Buck,” she said. “Stevie! I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Steve smiled, from what she could tell, under his mask and waved to her. “Yeah, I can’t believe it’s been almost two months. We all need to hang out soon.”

Y/N and Bucky shared looks with each other. Especially because they lived in New York, Y/N’s parents were more conscious than ever of having them going out and hanging around other people. “I can ask my mom and dad, but if we all stay apart I’m sure they’ll agree.” Steve and Bucky nodded together in agreement. “How have you been doing, Steve?”

Sighing, the blonde-haired boy ran a hand through his cropped hair, which had miraculously managed to look the same as the last time she saw him in person. “You know, just been reading and painting a whole lot. Oh, I drew this portrait of Nat! I’ll send it to you.” A few moments after he looked through his phone, Y/N heard her own alert with a message. She readjusted the baby onto her hip, and opening the message, she gasped. Steve had managed to capture Natasha perfectly from a photo she had posted on her Instagram. It was absolutely beautiful, with her red hair looking like a fiery haze and green eyes sparkling. “Jesus, Steve, this is absolutely amazing, it’s so realistic.”

“Let me see, doll.” She handed him the phone and saw his blue eyes widen in awe. “Steve, you really outdid yourself on this one.” His face heated up at the couple’s words. “Aw, you got a little crush, Stevie?” After receiving no response, Bucky pointed at his friend accusingly. “Holy crap, you do!” Steve only managed to nod his head before ducking down in embarrassment.

At this point, Y/N didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t her place to say, but she also didn’t want Steve to get hurt. Natasha had told her and Wanda earlier in the seventh grade that she liked girls, and the two couldn’t be any more proud of their friend. While Wanda did ask Tasha occasionally when she was going to tell the rest of the group, she had a good reason not to. Her parents, while they were kind to her, were closed off to many modern values. Natasha’s mom stayed at home and has taught the red-haired girl that one day she would do the same and take care of her husband and their babies. She felt trapped, and her two best friends completely understood that she wasn’t ready to come out yet. 

“How long have you liked her, Steve?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious. 

“I think it was when I met you two in third grade, around when Bucky first started crushing on you.” Now that was new information to Y/N. Whipping around her head to look at her boyfriend, she squinted her eyes at Bucky, who seemed to be so very interested in the dirt. Deciding that she would tease him about it later, she turned back to Steve. 

“That’s… nice.” Y/N didn’t mean to sound so rude, but it was extremely awkward for her and she didn’t know what else to say. Both of the boys stared at her weirdly for her strange response, and she could feel their eyes burning through her. She felt guilty for not telling Steve before he got hurt, but Natasha needed her, and she was loyal to her. Luckily Steve’s parents had finished talking to the L/N’s so it was time for all three kids to go. “Bye, Stevie, we’ll see you soon, I hope.”

“We can ask the rest of the gang when we work with them. Maybe when we’re out of school and classes are done.” Steve suggested. Bucky took Becca from Y/N’s hold and wrapped an arm around his girlfriend’s waist. 

“I’ll talk to you soon, Steve.” The three said their goodbyes, and with a last wave, Steve walked back to his family. 

“Are you okay, baby?” Y/N asked. Bucky let out a breath and shut his eyes. The last few tears fell and raced down his face, and with that, Bucky knew he would be okay. He had no clue what was to become of him and his sister, but for now, he was safe and had his girlfriend who loved him very, very much. And that was all he needed for now. 

“Yeah,” Bucky let out a small smile, “I really am.” Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and the two stood in silence, watching over the grassy field.

The lawyer called two days after that. Bucky’s dad had left him in the will, seeming as if there was no one else in their family alive to have the belongings except for those in Romania, who probably had no clue the Barnes siblings even existed. Bucky had to sit in a conference Zoom call with Mr. and Mrs. L/N, his father’s lawyer, and for some odd reason, the Rogers’ parents and their lawyer as well. Y/N sat outside the room, ear to the door, trying to hear what they were all saying, but was sent to her room after her mom opened the door and she fell down.

“Fine then, be that way, mom.” She mumbled on her way to the room. Y/N was trying to be productive while waiting for her boyfriend to return, using this free time to finish her homework for the week, though it was only a Monday. They didn’t have finals, but that just added more to the piles upon piles of homework they were already receiving. Apparently the teachers believed the students had so much more free time, they would be able to finish three packets of Physics in one night. Bullshit. 

At some point in the two hours on the call, Becca started to whine so Y/N played with her and watched cartoons on her iPad, while also discovering her interest in “Little Einsteins” on Disney+. “Becca, do you know what song this is?” Of course Becca wouldn't recognize it, but the sweet melody of Mozart reminded the teenager of sitting on the wooden floor of the Barnes’ home as a fourth-grader, and watching in amazement as Bucky’s mother’s fingers drifted across the keys. “Your mama used to play this all the time for me and your big brother when we were younger.” The baby simply just stared at her, bright blue eyes filled with curiosity. Becca didn’t remember her mother, as she had died while giving birth. “She was an amazing person, your mama.” Y/N scooped up the little girl in her arms and cradled her to her chest, regaling stories of Mrs. Barnes. She didn’t even notice until later, but tears had started to trace down her cheeks as she brought back memories. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open and Bucky popped his head inside the room, a quiet, but happy smile on his face. “Was that the time in sixth grade when we made that slip and slide in my backyard and got my ma all soaked?” Y/N nodded and chuckled wetly. Bucky, still grinning, walked over to the bed and caressed his girlfriend’s face with his thumbs. “Why are you crying, baby?”

Placing Becca down gently next to her, she slipped into Bucky’s embrace. His hands massaged her shoulders gently, and she could hear his heart beating softly in his chest. “I’m sorry, James, I’m just thinking about your ma too much. She was an absolutely beautiful person.”

“She really was, doll. I miss her a whole damn lot.” Bucky sighed happily and let his chin rest on her head. “But, I’ve got you here with me now, and I’ve got adults who decided to adopt me and Becca who love us, so I’ve got to say that I’m done dwelling on the past and ready for a very happy future.” At the mention of new parents, Y/N’s heart dropped and she snapped her head up to look at him. He was smiling brightly now, and she could not figure out why. 

“You’re being adopted?” Y/N asked. She honestly couldn’t tell if her voice was shaking or not, but by the way he rubbed her back more soothingly, she assumed she was. “Are they nice?”

Bucky chuckled at the question, and nodded his head. “They’re very nice, Y/N. I know them personally.” Had her parents adopted him? Well, she was happy that he was in a family that loved him to pieces, but that would mean that she was currently dating her step-brother, which was a slightly disturbing thought to her. 

“My parents?” She asked softly.

He shook his head and grinned. “You may now call me James Buchanan Barnes-Rogers.” Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“Are you joking? You and Becca were adopted by Steve’s mom and dad?” Y/N could barely believe it. 

“I kid you not, doll, I am now a Rogers.” With a squeal, she pushed forward and kissed him, forcing him to fall on his back on the bed. After a few moments, they both sat up, tears in their eyes. “Okay, I was kidding about the Rogers thing though, me and Bec are keeping our last names, but Steve and I are now legally brothers.”

“That’s why they were talking to my parents for so long the other day?” Y/N inquired. “How is this going to work in quarantine though? Oh, does Steve know? He’s going to be so excited, the two of you are best friends!”

Chuckling at her excitement and endless questions, he cut her off with a chaste, yet nonetheless sweet kiss. “Sarah and Joseph already had a talk with him before we spoke to the lawyers, so I’m going to call him soon. We’ve decided that I’ll stay here for the rest of the quarantine just to stay safe because you know his dad goes out at night to the firm. But we’re selling the house, and all of the money is going to me and Bec’s college funds. That’s pretty much all I know, I was zoning out for most of it.” 

Rolling her eyes playfully, Y/N teased, ”Of course you were.” They leaned back together, her head resting on his chest as he ran a hand through her hair. “You’re going to be so happy, James.” Bucky closed his eyes and smiled in peaceful bliss, for what seemed like the first time in forever. 

Classes continued that week like normal, as no one else knew about Bucky’s father. That was fine with him, he didn’t need everybody else’s sympathy and there was no need to make it a big deal. It was nearing the end of the year and the exhaustion was continuously catching up to all the students, causing them to fall asleep during their classes and procrastinate on homework. Coffee was inhaled in unhealthy amounts, endless gum wrappers surrounding the wastebasket where Y/N had missed when she and Bucky studied in her room. It was nice to have a regular, scheduled week in contrast to the past one. Well, at least it was normal until Saturday night when two bright headlights shone in through the living room window. Y/N and Bucky weren’t really watching the movie; they had their legs tangled on the couch as they made out, so they didn’t notice Ria’s car pulling into the driveway outside. 

“So this is what I get to come home to?” Ria boomed from the doorway. “Two horny-ass teenagers making out on the couch? That’s just fantastic.” Both Bucky and Y/N shot up from their laying down position and stared at the older L/N sibling with wide eyes and kiss-swollen lips. “Jeez, calm down, you both look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Y/N leaped off the couch with absolutely zero grace, and grabbed her sister in a hug. “Oh shit,” she instantly said, “I probably shouldn’t be doing that.”

Ria laughed at her younger sister and ruffled her hair. “Nah, it’s okay, I tested negative, remember?” Y/N had a faint memory of it and nodded, leaning back into her sister for another hug. “Hey, Buck, how are you doing, kid? I’m sorry about your old man.”

“I’m doing okay, Ria, just trying to make it through the rest of this year.” She pulled him into a tight hug and the last part of his sentence was muffled in her hoodie. “I thought you were staying with your boyfriend, what happened?”

“Well, I found out the bastard had cheated on me a few months ago so I dumped his ass, packed up my things, and drove back here.” Bucky and Y/N hummed at her story, knowing that she bounced back from breakups quickly. Ria had had many, many relationships in her twenty years of being alive, and driving four hours back home in a furious haze was one of the least crazy things she had done in the aftermath of a breakup. 

“Do you wanna watch ‘Legally Blonde’ with us, Ria?” Y/N asked her sister. 

Ria let out a snort and squeezed the two teenagers’ shoulders. “Not if you’re making out like that I don’t. Plus, I gotta check in with mom and dad, I didn’t tell them I was coming. I’ll catch you guys later though.” With that, she picked up her suitcase and left the room. Bucky and Y/N looked at each other and then busted out laughing.

“I don’t care what your sister says, I will make out with you as much as I damn well please.” Bucky said, smirking.

Y/N grinned before bringing Bucky’s face right before hers and licking her lips. “You won’t be hearing any objections from me.” He laughed as she connected their lips again, moving back towards the couch until he was seated, the movie long, long forgotten. 

Quarantine was horrible, but with Bucky and her older sister there with her, it made it much more bearable. Now there were three students staying in the house, all doing classes, which made it slightly frustrating and stressful, but she tried to not let it affect her. In the last few remaining weeks of school, Y/N and Bucky worked hard, making sure they had all their assignments turned in and studying for their “quizzes” (aka finals) that would determine the grade they got for the year. It was nearly impossible to fail this semester, the only good thing that came out of the pandemic, but both of them were good students who still actually did the work. Finally, school finished and summer began. 

It really changed nothing besides the fact that they were now bored even more often. Y/N wanted to do the Chloe Ting challenge as she had seen on YouTube, but after three days she gave up in exhaustion and forced Bucky to do yoga with her instead, which he ended up enjoying a lot. He and Y/N were bummed out that they wouldn’t be able to continue their extracurriculars, baseball and the play, for that year, but hopefully, the pandemic would end in time for their sophomore year. FaceTime calls between the group became longer just like the days, sometimes stretching to seven or eight hours. They spent a month trying to convince their parents to let them hang out, with promises of social distancing and masks. After much pestering, they were all finally allowed to meet up for Steve’s fifteenth birthday. 

Bucky and Y/N walked hand in hand to the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Y/N had gotten Steve a new set of acrylic paints and a set of charcoal pencils, and Bucky had gotten him a baseball signed by the Yankees that he had kept since he met them in a bar with his dad the year before. “Where do you think they are? Sam said he was coming late.” Bucky said.

Y/N snorted. “The dumbass probably slept in like he did the day of his oral Spanish test.” Both of them quietly chuckled at that until they saw the familiar shock of red curly hair gesturing wildly at them. “And there’s Ms. Natasha Romanoff. HEY GUYS!”

Steve, Wanda, and Natasha all turned around to the couple and though they were all wearing masks, Bucky knew they were smiling underneath. Y/N let go of his hand and ran towards her friends at an alarming speed. “I’ve missed you guys so fucking much- oh shit.” Her foot got caught in the grass, sending her tumbling to the ground. “Oomph.” Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing her friend’s clumsy self, and Bucky once again came to her rescue as her knight in shining armor. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked. 

“Never been better.” She quickly pecked his cheek, and connecting their hands again, they walked over to their friends. “Happy birthday, Stevie! You’re officially a grandpa now.” She and Bucky placed their presents on the picnic table and sat in the circle their friends had made, six feet apart obviously. 

“Thanks, Y/N, it’s great to see you and Buck again.” Bucky sat next to Steve, and the two of them made conversation as Y/N turned to Wanda and Natasha. 

“Ugh, you and Bucky are so cute it makes me want to puke.” Natasha jabbed playfully. “You make all us single people feel bad.”

“I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult, but I’ll take it either way.” Y/N grinned. “But Nat, I need to tell you something; Steve has a crush on you.” Natasha just sighed. 

“I know he does, so I’m actually planning on telling the whole group tomorrow. Steve’ll be able to get over it, he’s also been texting Peggy Carter in our class.” Wanda nodded her head in agreement.

“I’m really proud of you, Tasha,” Wanda whispered, “We all are.” 

“Thank you, Wands.” The redhead took a deep breath and let it go. “Thank you, both, for being so supportive of me these past two years, but I think I’m ready to come out. I’m not going to let anything stop me from being who I am, or loving who I want to love.”

“We are so, so proud of you, Tasha.” Y/N said. “Damn your parents if they don’t accept you.” Natasha chuckled, a tear falling out of her eye. “I really want to give you a hug right now but I can’t, goddamn it.”

“HEY LOSERS, DID YOU MISS ME?” Sam yelled. A loud groan escaped Bucky, causing chuckles to rise from the rest of the group. “Happy birthday, o wise one, you’re the last one of us to turn fifteen.” He placed his bag on the table and came to sit on the ground.

“How’ve you been, Sam?” Wanda asked. And just like that, they were back. Maybe it was just for a few hours, but at least in that time they could forget what was going on in the real world. Sitting in the grass, eating their lunches, laughs filling the warm summer air, Y/N and Bucky were content with just being there.

TAGLIST 

@transparentfestivaltiger​ @barnesjamcs​ @kitkatd7​ @adorkably​

[hilllsnholland]

Rest

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader 

Warnings: none maybe like one swear y’all 

Summary: Tom needs to wake up early for his live stream so you cuddle with him and help him get some well-deserved rest afterward. 

A/N: I literally haven’t written any imagines or fanfics about real people since One Direction in like 2014. So enjoy and maybe share? idk how Tumblr works anymore. 

You shuffled in your sleep as the warm feeling beside slowly drifted away. You reach your hand out to bring Tom back to bed, but he was already sat up on the edge of the bed, yawning at the early hour. Why Sony choose 5:45 a.m. for this live stream? Only God knows why. Both of you had just returned home from vacation with his family and really wanted to get as much sleep as possible before the hysteria that would be 2019 for Tom. He would be traveling nonstop for promoting all his films and you desperately wanted to spend every last second you could with him. It did not help that Tom was utterly wrecked from previous events and work. Although Hawaii was a great vacation, neither one of you got the rest you wanted. 

You groaned into the pillow, hoping your boyfriend would come back and cuddle you back to sleep, but Tom placed a hand on your back to comfort you and left the bed. You turned around and rubbed your eyes. Once your eyes focused on his figure in the barely lit bedroom, you saw how exhausted he still looked. The bags under his eyes were prominent and his hair was a mess. Your heart sank, wishing that you could do something to make him feel better, but he had to promote the movie. You sat up and patted the spot next to you on the bed. 

“Come back here.” You sleepily demanded. 

“Sorry love, I’m already late and I need to look a little presentable.” He chuckled as he found his sweatshirt on the floor and threw it over his naked upper half. “I promise after the trailer launches we’ll spend all day in bed.” 

   Tom walked back over to your side of the bed and placed a delicate kiss on your lips, both of your mouths still slow from sleep. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him on top of you. You quickly wrapped your legs around him so you held him in place in hopes that you could keep him in bed a little longer. 

“You sure are clingy today darling.” Tom peppers kisses on your cheeks and sits up with you still attached around his waist. “How about we do the live stream on the couch so you can lay in my lap? Is that okay with your love?” 

   You agreed and peeled yourself off of his body, allowing him to check himself out in the mirror before going to the living room. You follow close behind with a blanket wrapped around you and found your place on the couch next to Tom. You curled up into his lap, hoping that the stream would be short and that you can go back to sleeping with the love of your life. You also had to be very quiet for however long the stream would be because you two were still not public yet. People suspected that Tom had a girlfriend because of recent photos fans had taken of both of you out, and the fact you appeared in a lot Harrison’s Instagram stories with Tom. But neither of you had confirmed anything yet, which was fine by you. 

   Tom began the live stream with the most obnoxiously cute yawn you had ever heard. You wanted to make a sassy comment but you stayed silent as he began to read off comments and answer questions. His voice was drenched in sleep, still hoarse from crashing as soon as you both got home from the airport. You loved his morning voice and enjoyed every second of him trying to piece words together to make somewhat coherent sentences, but his composure was crumbling and you wanted to get him back to sleep as soon as possible. You slowly and quietly pulled out your phone to text Harrison about the trailer, only to see he was already watching the Instagram live. You stifle your giggles as you saw Harrison's comments and Tom actually falling for them. You were so close to calling Tom an idiot in front of thousands of people, but you kept your cool once you saw Zendaya in the chat doing exactly that. Soon enough, Harry, Sam, and Jake entered the chat and started harassing Tom too. You wished to comment along with them, but you had to remain as invisible as possible until you announced the relationship. Your attention drew back to Tom as he was struggling to figure out how to show the trailer. Although you loved this boy with every part of your soul, sometimes you just wanted smack sense into him.  

   After a minute of Tom fiddling around with trying to show the trailer, he finally got it going on the stream, of course, it was out of sync but what else would you expect from your goofball? You definitely were going to give him shit for this after he was done. You looked up at Tom, gaining his attention for a moment so you could mouth ‘you’re an idiot’ and sticking your tongue out at him. Tom placed his middle finger behind his phone to flip you off which you fake gasped at. Luckily the trailer was loud enough to drown out the noise you made so you cuddle back into his lap and tried to rest until he was finished. 

   Thankfully Tom was done with the stream earlier than expected, giving a sleepy sound off to all of his fans and then turning off the stream. Once his attention was finally off of his phone you shifted yourself to be sitting on his lap and your hands on the side of his face.

“Tom Holland, you are an absolute fool and I love you.” You gave him a kiss and pinched at his cheek. 

“I love you too, even if you’re a pain in the ass.”

   You rolled your eyes at him then pushed him back so that he was laying on the couch. It was only 6 a.m. and you both needed at least two more hours to sleep. You laid yourself comfortably on top of him, kissing his forehead and raking your fingers through his curls that he was hiding underneath the hoodie. Tom placed his lips to your neck and hummed against your skin as the exhaustion hit him again. You knew exactly what to do to get him to fall asleep as your fingers and small kisses lulled him into a trance that was between consciousness and sleep. 

“Y/N, I really love you.” His voice was soft and whiny as he pulled you closer. 

“I know Tommy, I love you too. But sleep now, you deserve it.” 

“I have to post the trailer though,” His voice was strained as he reached for his phone but you stopped him.

“I’ll do it for you. Just please get your rest.” 

   Tom softened in your arms as sleep finally overtook his deprived body. You grabbed his phone from beside the both of you and typed up a caption that sounded like something Tom would say and posted it. The comments poured in with massive support and love, causing you to feel a bubble of pride in your boyfriend. He was peacefully asleep but you knew the impact he was making on so many people. You smiled while cuddling into his chest, finally feeling completely content since you woke up. Your eyes slowly closed as you settled into Tom’s body and went to sleep. Arms tangled around each other and smiles peaking at the corners as you both were finally given a moment to rest.

[sailorfate]

Beware of the Nemphians (Horror Story)

My sister Justice is an animal science major and her 2 best friends were assisting her with her research on animal behavior. When they went to Olympic National Park to investigate why the animals around the area are migrating away from the park so quickly, they soon find the answer. This is all the information I was able to acquire from her journal.

“Hm. Do I want to wear my hair in a low pony, 2 buns, 2 buns at the top with the rest out, 1 bun, or maybe-“

“Oh my God, Justice. If you don’t decide already. You’re not even going anywhere today. Don’t you have to decide what you’re going to do your research on by tomorrow anyway?” Shayla rudely said as she laid on my bed scrolling through Instagram.

As I wet my hair with my spray bottle, applied gel to the front and brushed my hair into a low pony, I turned around from my mirror to face Shay and responded with, “Actually, I plan on taking selfies.”

Now that I think about it, I do need to get started on this research. It’s not really mandatory, but it sure would look good on my resume. Shay and Damion (my other best friend), wanted to tag along to gain experience, too.

“Okay, you’re right. I do need to think about where to go for this research. Now, I was thinking about going to Death Valley to see how the different wild life there interact with one another.”

“Well, for one, we live in D.C., and that’s too far, and secondly, it’s where Charles Manson was arrested. NO MA’AM. I don’t need none of those evil energies around me. NEXT.” Shay dramatically said as she made a shooing away gesture with both hands.

“Um, maybe I heard it wrong, but I thought he died.”

“He did. But I don’t want his spirit following me back to my dorm. NO MA’AM.”

“Oh, here you go with this supernatural bull. Please, not today, Shay. No more conspiracy theories, okay?” I responded getting a bit annoyed. I hate when people start talking like they have top secret information on things they never seen first hand. I love Shay to death, but sometimes I wonder what she do on her free time.

“Okay. Okay. Geez. No more. I promise. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Shay responded in a teasing tone.

“I’m not scared, you nincompoop. Why would I be scared of something that doesn’t exist? Anyway, I think I’m going to research why so many animals are migrating away so quickly from Olympic National Park. Some researchers say they’ve never seen anything like it.”

Shay stoop up and started pacing. She didn’t say a thing. I normally expect some insane response from her, but I’m honestly shoc-

Before I could finish my thought, the spirit of delusional inevitably possessed Shay’s tongue and she blurted out, “Ugh! Sorry! I can’t hold it any longer. Now I heard that-“

Oh dear God. I knew it was coming.

“Uh uh! Stop right there!” I said stopping her mid sentence.

“But-“

“Nope! Keep it in the forums! You don’t have to come, you know.”

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m leaving your gullible ass alone. Plus, I can tidy up my journalism skills.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? Damion was coming to be the camera man. You know, to “tidy up” his videography skills.” Dammit, self. Stop smiling like a school girl.

Shay started to smile like the Grinch and said, “Oooooh you sneaky little devil.”

“Yeah, I think it’s time for you to go. See you later, girl.” I said as I gently pushed her back toward the door.

“What did I sa-“

Before she could finish the question, I slammed the door in her face.

“You damn scaredy cat! He’s not going to wait forever you know!!” she yelled outside my door.

“Yeah. Yeah. Tell it to the “boogeyman” under your bed. See you tomorrow, big mouth”. I yelled back as I walked toward my cluttered desk. God, my life is a mess. When did I get this messy? Guess I’ll straighten up a bit.

After I organized the clutter, I texted Damion to tell him about the plan.

It was finally October 12th, 2018. I decided to blow dry my hair and just wear it in a pony so it won’t get in the way. I put on a basic olive green top, a blue jean jacket and jeans that’s the same color, and an old pair of white tennis shoes. After I packed my brown satchel with a small magnifying glass, a tape recorder, binoculars, pens and pencils, a travel sized water bottle, and a notebook, I went to the Starbucks around the corner to meet with Shay and Damion.

“Damn, how did y’all get here that fast?! AND y’all ordered without me?” I said in a slightly higher pitched tone.

Shay looked at me up and down and then looked back at her phone and responded with, “Look here, black NANCY DREW....you were supposed to be here 35 minutes ago.”

“Well, let’s not get technical.” I wittingly said.

After looking at their outfits, I seen that Shay had on her Howard Uni sweat shirt, blue jeans, and red vans. Damion had on a Howard Uni burgundy snap back, his black Howard Uni tee, a burgundy bomber jacket, black jeans, old pair of white Nike’s, and his Canon Vixia camera around his neck that I got him for Christmas last year. It’s not my fault I’m the only one with fashion sense in this group that don’t just wear school merch.

“Are y’all done yet? Cus I’m tryna get my detective on. I’m kind of excited!” Damion said while getting up to stretch.

Shay and I just shook our heads and headed toward the door.

“What? Y’all know I don’t have a life outside of football.” He said as he followed us. “And anime.” He quietly continued, as if people were listening.

After we hopped in my 2016 Jeep Wrangler, we were on our way to Olympic National Park.

We finally arrived and as soon as we got out of the car, we immediately smelled something that wasn’t quite right. It was the scent of death. That’s the only way I could put it. The smell of rotten flesh. I scoped the area with my binoculars to get an idea as to what can explain this god awful smell. Not an animal in sight. Only thing visible were the few stars and the full moon that illuminated the sky, and the branches of the 100ft maple tree. As I looked a little further, I noticed a black, tarry like substance that I haven’t seen before. Everything in me told me to turn back, but the science side of me told me to investigate.

As I started walking toward the track that the substance left behind, I heard Shay yell, “Justice, have you lost your damn mind?!”

I turned around and responded with, “What are you talking about!? I came here to see what’s been happening with these animals and this substance just might give me a clue.”

“Justice, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Shay. I mean, you don’t know if it’s airborne or what.” Damion said with a worried look on his face.

I shifted my gaze back and forth to Damion and Shay and told them, “Look, you guys. I understand if you don’t want to help, but I’m going. So, give me the camera and the extra notebook.”

As I began walking their direction to collect the items, Shay sighed and said, “No. No. We’ll help.”

“Oui? Shay, when did you start speaking French, because I’m sure you didn’t just say “we”. You know, the word that means more than one person is involved.”

“Damion!” Shay said as she hit him on his arm.

“What? I was just playing. Kinda. Sorta. Not really. But I’ll go. Just for 10 minutes, and I’m dragging both of y’all out.”

“You guys really don’t have to. I’ll go and be quic-“

“Girl, shut the hell up before I change my mind!” Shay exclaimed as she started walking ahead.

“Yeah, what she said”. Damion said as he began walking toward me. “And Shay. I need to tell you something after we get back. It’s been on my mind for a while.” He continued as he walked ahead of me.

Tell me something? What does that mean? Could it be that-. No, Justice. Get a hold of yourself. Worry about that later. Now, you need to focus on the agenda at hand.

“Damn! Can y’all slow asses move any slower?! COME ON!” Shay impatiently yelled out.

When Damion and I got to her, the three of us continued down the trail. “Damion, are you recording?” I asked as I turned around to kneel down to get a closer look at the substance.

“Yeah. I got you. Is your head getting bigger, or is it just the camera adding 15 pounds?” Damion said while he bust into laughter.

“This is not the time for jokes. What the hell is this?” I said in disgust as I poked it with my pencil. It was the black, tarry substance again. It’s not uncommon to find weird kind of colors in a place like this, but the texture of it is what got me perplexed. I pulled out my magnifying glass and noticed that it was something moving inside. Like tiny particles that I shouldn’t be able to detect with the naked eye. I’ve never seen anything like it. What the hell is going on?

“Shay, can you write this down? I’m a bit busy at the moment.” Silence. Pure silence. She normally would say something snarky, but it was just...silence. I rose up from my kneeled position and turned around. “Shay?!” I yelled as I noticed that she wasn’t there. Damion turned around and started yelling her name too. “Did you even see her walk anywhere?!” I asked as I began to panic. “No. No, I didn’t hear a thing!”

As we both continued to shout her name, I reached into my bag for my binoculars.

“I’m getting worried, Justice. It isn’t like her to wander off at a place like this alone.” Damion said as he paced back and forth. “I know! I know! I’m going to see if I can see her with these!” I frantically responded. As I was scoping the area, all I seen was the regular terrain. Trees, moss, and more trees. Then I looked up a bit further to my right in the direction where the full moon was, and saw something up in the tree. I immediately fell to my knees.

“Justice! What’s wrong? What happened?!” What did you see?!” I know Damion was talking, but it was as if the world around me simultaneously stopped at the same time, and the only thing I could see was my best friend, Shay, getting her head decapitated and her skin being ripped clean off her body by a demon-alien like creature. It looked kind of like that thing from Jeepers Creepers, but uglier without wings. About 7 feet tall. Its gnarled fingers were at least 20 inches and they were all the same size. The finger nails were razor sharp, narrow and were about 10 inches. The only thing I could hear was my accelerated heartbeat that sounded like it would combust any minute.

I tried to put the binoculars down, but I couldnt move a muscle. I used every fiber of my being to make any sort of movement. Couldn’t even move my tongue to speak. My breathing is getting shallower by the minute. It’s as if that thing is controlling me somehow. Or maybe it’s my body’s natural response to danger. There was another demon like alien behind the one that just mutilated my best friend. I’m not sure how I just thought that so nonchalantly. Is this what they call ‘shock’? The second creature spotted me and smiled while putting its finger against its lips in a shushing gesture. It then mouthed some words and touched its throat with the other hand. Within a blink of an eye, they both disappeared into some type of portal with Shay’s remains. In that moment I was able to get up on my feet.

“JUSTICE!! JUSTICE! JUSTICE!!” Damion shouted as I rose to my feet. “I’ve been shouting your name and shaking you for the past 3 or so minutes!!”

3 minutes. It’s been 3 minutes.

As I turned around to face him, I emotionlessly said, “She’s dead. It killed her. She’s gone.” When I started to walk pass him, I heard him say, “What Justice?! I can’t hear you! Why are you mouthing words?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. Mouthing words? What is he talking about? I turned around and yelled at him, “SHE’S DEAD. SHE’S GONE. THE CREATURE KILLED HER! I KNOW IT SOUNDS CRAZY, BUT WE HAVE TO GO!!”

“Justice, what are you saying?!?! Stop playing around, and use your voice! We still have to find Shay!” Damion responded with seriousness in his voice.

Use my voice? Wait. That thing! I-I-It did something to my voice somehow! I know it did. God, I sound like one of the crazies off the internet, but I know what I saw! I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m not cra-

“Justice!” Damion exclaimed, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I immediately pulled out my notebook and wrote “She’s dead!! Shay!! This thing skinned her! And took her head!” I know it was damn near un-readable with the way I was shaking as I was writing, but I had to try. I showed it to Damion and he responded in confusion with, “What the hell are you talking about?! Why are you saying these things? How do you know she’s dead?”

As I was about to write my response, Damion eyes nearly bulged out his sockets, and he pushed me out the way as he seen the creature appear out of nowhere behind me. The 7 foot beast smiled from ear to ear and flashed its razor sharp teeth. It was at least a hundred. No. Hundreds. The thing then began to break out into a malicious laugh. It’s as if that abomination wanted that to happen. Within a blink of an eye, it took Damion into the portal.

“DAMION!!!!!!!!!!!! DAMIOOOOON!!!!!! YOU UGLY BASTARD. BRING HIM BACK!!!!!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!!!!!!!!!!” As I yelled his name like a raging banshee over and over, I seen a portal open about 10 ft from me, and one of the creatures came out with Damion.

“Damion! You’re aliv-“

“JUSTICE RUN! RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN, AND DONT TURN BACK NO MATTER WHAT!!!!” Damion screamed as he coughed up blood.

“BUT-“

“JUST GO!”

As I reluctantly turned my back and began running, I heard Damion yell at the top of his lungs, “JUSTICE, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I LOVE YO-

My body wanted to run, but my heart told me to stop when I heard those words, and when I did, the only sound I was able to hear was my best friend, the man that I always loved, head fall onto the ground and the sound of his skin being ripped off.

I assume the sound of my voice fully came back when the 2 creatures went into the portal with Damion’s remains because the screams that I let out were so ear-piercing, that the few animals who were still in the area somewhere hiding started to run from fear. The only thing I was able to say was, “It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault” in a trance like state. I said that until I tired myself and the last thing I remember is me passing out.

That was the last thing my sister, Justice, wrote in her journal. Her unconscious body was found by a couple of joggers who were passing by and they immediately took her to the hospital. For the past day, she would randomly wake up and yell, “THEY KILLED THEM. THEY’RE GONE. THE CREATURES. THE ALIENS!” After being interrogated by police, they determined that she needed mental evaluation the more she talked about creatures, aliens, portals, and decapitated, skinless bodies. They searched the area, but wasn’t able to even find a trace of blood.

During my sister’s week stay at the mental hospital, she begged me to read the journal the last day I saw her. I knew she was working on something because every time I came to visit her, it was as if her fingers were moving at lightning speed. That’s all she would do. Write. I always told her to stop making up things like this if she ever wanted to get out of this hospital. But for some reason, on the last day I saw her, I decided to take the journal.

Later on that day, out of curiosity, I read a few pages and ended up reading the whole thing. I didn’t know what to think of it. It was all lies, right? The next day, I checked my mailbox and saw an envelope with no name on it. As soon as I read it, something in me told me to drive as fast as I can to the hospital.

When I arrived, one of the nurses told me they went to check on her, and they found her hanging lifeless like she’s been dead for days, even though they just seen her 30 minutes ago. The stench alone was enough to wake a mummy. The nurse told me she clutched the crucifix around her neck, and walked a little further in to grab the paper on the floor that was near the bed. It read:

“They’ll take your love

They’ll cause you pain

They’ll make sure that you’ll never sleep again

You’ll go insane

You’ll lose your mind

The ‘what if’s’ will keep you up at night

It doesn’t matter if youre not alone

They will still catch you and no one will know

No one will believe you

No one will care

All they will do is lock you up in here

You don’t know when you’ll be next

Or when a friend will end up dead

You just won’t know until.

But all you really need to know

Is that they’re real “

I let out a blood curdling scream and was escorted out from scaring the patients. I looked back at the mysterious letter that I received in my mailbox that read:

“This is all I know: They’re an ancient demon-alien hybrid that come from a planet 50 light years away called Nemphus. They’re a species known as Nemphians. It’s a certain ritual they have to do every 100 years to please their god, Zeranus. The ritual requires a full moon, blood from a hell hound being smeared around the area (the black substance), a group of 3, the head and skin of 2 human victims, and the battered, damaged soul of the other person (witness) in the group who were close to the victims. The witness always end up killing theirself due to the psychological torment and the isolation they endure from people not believing them. Once the witness kill their self, the Nemphian who killed the ones they loved, takes their soul, which rapidly age their corpse.

Having everything in the right place at the right time is tricky, so they keep track of full moons and look out for a group of 3 by themselves in an area outside. Preferably with a lot of trees. They track potential human victims through a form of mini portals called ‘The Looker’ that’s invisible to the naked eye.

Nemphian abilities: They can open portals from one place to another, ranging in size. Super strength. Can do certain spells and summonings. Can manipulate sound. “

The letter also had ancient copies of text and cases of missing people that goes back every 100 years. I then connected the dots and immediately knew what my sister meant. The journal. The poem. Now this mysterious letter. So, my sister was telling the truth. What is going on? All of this can’t be a coincidence. I think I’m actually starting to believe this stuff. If only I knew who sent the letter.

[gylisaa]

So I get asked to do a tattoo blog ALOT, and while I don’t see myself as tattooed enough to warrant one – all of y’all do, so here we go.

My first tattoo, the one considered to be the ‘gateway’ tattoo.

My first tattoo! I drew myself, mistakes and all when I was 17, and my best friend Hannah treated me to it on my 18th birthday and she got the same tattooed on her other arm. Best friends 5eva. So no underage tattoos here guys! Not for lack of trying…>:)

Now, if I HAD got tattooed underage, I can honestly say I would have been lumped with a monstrosity for life – I drew up my own design of a trad style anchor, with two swallows either side – doesn’t sound that bad right? Well I wanted it in traditional garish colours, and no where other than my lower abdomen. Let’s just say thank fuck for tattoo artists who check ID and don’t just ‘take my word for it, my mum said I’m allowed one and I’m deffo 18.’

I had the tattoo bug from a very early age, didn’t help that we were regulars at festivals like The Bulldog Bash – a motorbike, music and booze festival run by the Hells Angels,  which happened to be a stones throw from our front door. My other best pal Naomi, got her first tattoo there, underage ! And it was me who got called the bad influence!!

Anyway, I fucking love art, so much so I wanna be the art. Is that so strange?

My next tattoo was on a whim, with an old friend of mine in London, we filled up on chocolate vodka, decided to get ‘matching’ hand tattoos and she ended up with an ace of spades, while I ended up with a tiny anchor that has since spread so much it needs explaining every time I show it. Scratcher tattoos, for the win!

On my right hand, a tiny anchor tattoo sits on my finger! Yes, that is an anchor.

  My third tattoo, and my first proper learning curve, was that some tattoo artists don’t just ‘know’ what you want! I was besotted with Valerie Vargas style tattoos at this point, having just discovered her work in several tattoo mags, and so when Ryan and I booked a day session I showed the guy a picture I liked and said ‘I want something like that, please.’

19 years old, and shy AF, he showed me a stencil briefly and slapped it on my upper arm, I have a mole on that arm (about where your TB jab might be) and he’d positioned the design – that I’d hardly seen – so the lady’s face had a huge mole on it!

I asked if he could move it, and he scrubbed my arm roughly and moved the stencil. By now I’d seen the design and it wasn’t what I wanted. Feeling too rude to say so and ask for a new one to be drawn up, I sat through an hour or so knowing I hated my tattoo.

Here’s the lesson I have since learnt…

TATTOOS DON’T FUCKING COME OFF! 

They are on you FOR LIFE.

That is what you are paying for. A permanent mark. A permanent design that you will look at – FOREVER. If you don’t like it – speak up ! A tattoo artist doesn’t want you to be unhappy! They want you to love your art, on paper, and on skin. It’s their job, and generally – their passion too. Communicate! Be specific, your artist will want to work with you to get an end product you are happy with living with, and they are happy scarring you with.

So yeah, here she is, and she’s remained untouched since that fateful day. Sorry hun.

A few centuries later, had a spell of homelessness, living on the dole and finally getting our acts together and adding to the clan – Lily was born. And upon her ejection, it was time for another tattoo.

I got my second and third finger tatts on Ryan and I’s anniversary, so as an ode to my two loves of my life, I opted for a heart for Ryan (hint hint, I would like a ring) and an L for…Loopy Lily the First. This is one of those photos that at the time I thought was beautiful and now she is grown look back on and think ..urgh Potato Child.

Sorry babe, you are beautiful now.

On maternity leave and with money and time to kill, the arm began to fill up. This was done at Dust n Bones Tattoo in Plymouth, by lovely Robin!

Brightened up the peg something chronic!

Then! Fate struck, and two ‘brummies’ immigrated to Looe one fine day in 2017, (infact, TODAY! Two years ago!)   Ryan noticed a shop being refit whilst on a job, and Lo! The Vault in Looe came into our lives, bringing with it two of the best people ON THE PLANET. Melanie Allen (then Bates!) and Cat Allen. We even made them a song. But let’s not go off on that tangent.

Ironically, most of our friends in Cornwall are not Cornish natives, not sure if that says more about Cornwall being The Place To Be, or if it means Cornish folks are…weird AF.

Anyway! Ryan went in, introduced himself (and me, although I was none the wiser a friendship egg was being laid.) And booked himself in for a hand tatt. Long story short – we go there for all our tattoos now, I recommend them to everyone I know – even Aussies, y’never know when one may be visitin’. And frankly, if anyone else were to touch me with a needle I’d feel like I was cheating.

In 2018, Mel and Cat invited us to be part of their wedding, and we were blessed with being a part of their happiest ever day – what an honour!

The hand tattoo that started it all, and our place settings at M & C’s wedding!

And so, here are several tattoos laid upon me by the one and only Catherine Rope Head Allen.

Crystal Ball, the runes mean success, luck all that kinda shit.

Friday 13th tattoo, lucky ol’ 13! Ryan got one too, and he tattooed one on Cat!

A birthday tattoo, and yes I drank tea as it was stabbed into me!

My finger tattoos, and not to sound like a pussy but these are up there with most painful tattoo! I love Cat but when she tattoos me sometimes I’d like to punch her.

One for the Foot Fetishers

Oh, my most recent tattoo is the swallow on my foot, and I nearly forgot to mention my own mishaps – tattooing ‘Love Hate’ on my toes on Christmas day, probably not my greatest idea, but it was funny at the time. And what’s life for, if not for laughing.

Another ‘home job’ a sugar skull on my thigh. Hurt like fuck and Ryan did a line too. A blurry photo honestly does it justice.

  The rest of my arm, a crescent moon which was done by Robin at Dust N Bones, which i got ‘cus I liked it. (Life aint always deep and meaningful!) and then following a few successes with my blog and writing in general I got a writing hand, with the word ‘Mother’. This was my own design and tattooed by the wonderful Cat! It actually covers over some scars which was pretty poignant – like making an ugly reminder of a hard time into something that I am proud of and truly self-made. I’ve done well since that period of life, and now whenever I see my arm I am reminded of it.

Lucky Horseshoe – Freshly done! This tattoo was a nod to my first love Amy (RIP), Also Ryan tells me I am supernaturally lucky (that’s true!) and he recently got a tattoo that said ‘Fuck Luck’. So its an ode to being a ying/yang. He’s unlucky, but I’ve got enough luck for the both of us.

Excuse the shite photo, but have you ever tried to take a photo of the bottom of your arm?! This piece was just a gap filler I decided on, on the day. Super bright and colourful dagger and rose.

So… I THINK that is it! Theres another anchor on my ankle, stabbed into me, by me. It’s not too bad actually! I’ve got another tattoo booked this weekend – so we will have to wait and see what that is!! I’m sure I’ll document it all on Instagram…so be sure to check that out! ( @Rocknrollmother_)

I’ve popped a link in above to The Vault’s Facebook if you wanna have a nosy at Cats most brilliant work – I am not the greatest advert for her amazing talent. Their Instagram is here.

That said! A few of you asked for more tattoo blogs, so there will be more to come! Watch this space for a walk through of Ryan’s tattoos! (Wayyyy more interesting than mine) And tattoo etiquette – a guide to getting your first, third or the rest of your tattoos! Etc. If there’s anything you’d like to read, drop a comment or message on my social media.

Thankyou for reading, I hope you enjoyed it (:

My Tattoos! So I get asked to do a tattoo blog ALOT, and while I don't see myself as tattooed enough to warrant one - all of y'all do, so here we go.

[seenashwrite]

See you thought it was fun, and now I’ve gone and done some pondering #prayers for Sal

salvachester replied to your post “Hello, new Nashooligans!”

but NASH, it's fun to see you lecture when you are actually right (srsly, what part of "don't steal from others, Stealing IS BAD" ppl don't get??)

@salvachester I’ve actually given this some thought, Sal, and - other than it not being addressed formally by parents and/or in school - my guess is it’s the knee-jerk thought process of “Well if it’s not for sale, it must be free.”

This was likely a rhetorical comment, but it’s Monday and I’m avoiding Monday adulting, so here we are. Feel free to ignore. Or hey, waste time with me, it can be a group activity.

And I don’t know if the opposite - being almost wary of stuff that’s not got clear parentage - is my knee-jerk due to having gone to school for a thousand years (citations! proper biblio! what does the literature say! footnotes! robust sources! gaaaah!), or if it has to do with age. I already had one foot into adulthood when social media exploded. I’m sure I’ve failed in the past, but now-a-days, I try not to pass along things that appear to have been slapped on here/the Twits without being “shared” as appropriately as possible.

Which, I tell you, the way I was “raised” in terms of leadership style/management style is to train your brain - in a situation where a subordinate has made a mistake - not to immediately blame them, but to first consider were they in any way set up for failure? Meaning: was this related to a systems issue/supply issue/staff support issue/etc. 100% incompetence and/or willful malice should be the conclusion when all else is eliminated. 

So most of these sites - the ones with broader focus than sharing quick thoughts or life updates (like, Twitter’s primary function wasn’t about sharing artwork, Facebook’s jam was supposed to be non-business networking, I know things evolve, but you get my point) - in particular play a big part in this, too. Specifically for the lack of share buttons with every popular media site listed, which should then alert the creator to the publishing of their thing on an outside site. It’s nigh impossible to track, just for plain ol’ metrics, but also because if I were able to see an uptick on Instagram, I’ll know to keep an eye out for folks who do the ol’ screencap and pass-a-long thing.

I’ve thought about locking this blog down to the “nth” degree possible (it’s currently viewable by anyone), and making a side blog for CASPN that’s public. I know that won’t prevent 100%, but maybe it’ll shave off the top.

I also am really convicted regarding naming names, if a thief (or accidental re-posters who can turn themselves into thieves) has been informed and given a link to follow and asked to kindly delete their post, then does not do it. I give them about a week, depending on if it’s evident they post multiple times a day, and then if not? I think the given fandom should be told.

But.

That garbage overtook my blog and drew out a handful of cranky folks who were apparently having a bad day and needed to process it aloud and it fell at the NashHole Inc doorstep (and, hey - they lucked out, they could’ve done it to a dragon slayer instead of someone who decided a loooong time ago to go the educational windbag route with those types of folks), and it really wasn’t my intent. I *am* thankful that nobody piled on that kid, that people did as I asked and just reported the post/spoke bluntly but not rage-y in messages, but lord have mercy, I wish I could shut it down and let folks know this particular one is over, and there’s no need for anyone to waste their time going over there, or clog up their blog.

So here’s my thought: Should there be a blog that’s focused on SPN thievery, story plagiarists, etc., exclusively? Kinda like how Canon SPN gifs is just.... well, canon SPN gifs. And it’d have a whole slew of mods who’ve been around forever, who live in a variety of continents/countries/time zones so that the mailbox 24hr coverage so to speak, and ideally a good chunk of whom have had things stolen from them. And it would have a process similar to what I describe: the request to take down; some standard time period with flexibility based on whatever circumstances (say, if they’ve noted somewhere that they’re on a hiatus); if that time period passes with no response, or they block the rightful owner or behave rudely, then comes the report to the site in question followed by the “report to the fandom” via this blog in an agreed-upon simply formatted post; tag the post with the thief’s name so that people can come back and search for updates; and of course, update the fam along the way.

I figure that way people can follow or subscribe for alerts, and then reblog at their discretion, or could make a tiny post of their own with a link back to a certain post at the theft blog being like “Y’all need to look at this post if you’re a writer, the SPN Thief Alert blog found a Wattpad user with a ton of stolen stories”. 

Anyway. Hmmmmm..... Okay, sorry my brain droppings fell on you, you lucky victim! MWAH!