#and it wasn’t there when i went to put the bottle money in the atm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamiedc-they-them · 4 years ago

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Clean Slate (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: A debt in your hometown comes back to haunt you and sends you and your best friend into a tailspin of credit cards, cops, running and shouting.

“We don’t have to do this.” Your older sister (not by blood) told you as she continued to drive you, passing the sign that said, “Welcome to New Orleans”. This was it, no going back.

Well, there was. But you knew how Daisy could be with dramatics.

“You didn’t have to come.” You told her, even if thankful she came.

“Of course, I was going to come with you.” She said, firmly.

“You don’t owe me anything, Daisy.” You responded with, looking away from the mirror and meeting her gaze as she turned her head to look at you for a moment before it went back to the road.

“This isn’t about debts. I know I don’t, just as much as you don’t with him.”

“I do. SHIELD fucked that up. Besides, I know what it’s like to be blindsided like that.” You were stubborn.

But so was she, “There’s more to life than just ticking off boxes for people that are never gonna fully be done with you.”

You closed your eyes as you let out a sigh through your nose.

Daisy knew a thing or two about owing people, a lot of people. But she was always one who knew that those debts would never fully be paid off. She knew it wouldn’t work; that whoever it was would never be satisfied.

Did she say any of that as she drove into where your home was? Fuck no. You were her friend, her best friend, and a younger sibling to her. She hated this but loved you. She’d go the ends of the earth for any of you; it was why she kept driving and didn’t mention any of it.

She pulled up at what used to be your old house. It had definitely seen better days, it looked like a wreck.

“You used to live here?” She asked, looking at the dump of a place. Although, in your mind, she lived in a van, so wasn’t one to talk.

“You’re one to talk. I’ve been in that van now for what seems to be a lifetime.” You heard Daisy make a noise that was offended by what you said. She let it go, however, and let you go in and grab what you needed.

You walked into your home, being hit with a wave of nostalgia. You remembered yourself sat on the couch that was still rotting away, shoving a needle into your arm. Some would say that would be death you were putting into your body; you would call it life instead. It kept you going. It made you say “Yes, one day, I will get enough.” And yet SHIELD hadn’t given you a pay check so…fuck.

Still, you removed one of the floorboards, finding an old squirrel fund you had kept for a while. Somehow, no one had found it.

You then heard your name being called, and saw Daisy holding a phone, and an uneasy look on her face.

Your heartrate picked up as you approached her, taking the phone from her and putting it to your ear.

“There they are.” The voice said to you, and you could almost hear how glad he was to know it was you; and that you both knew where this was going to go.

“Marcus.” You said, trying to not let the fear show.

“Aye, lass.” But he could still tell how you were feeling about this, “Wee bird told me you came home. Thought I’d give my favourite customer a call. See how they’re doing.” You were surprised at how easy you found the thick Scottishness in his voice; Fitz had helped with that, of course.

You closed your eyes and took a breath, “What do you want?”

His tone went serious, “Fuck do you think, love? My money.” Of course. He didn’t give you a chance to respond, he only hung up.

You pulled the phone from your ear, turning to Daisy who was leaning her hands against the hood of the van, she rose an eyebrow.

“You can go, you know?”

She didn’t say anything, she didn’t move either, “Daisy, I’m serious. Go, I’ll meet you when I’m done.”

She spoke then, “Give me the phone.”

“Daisy –”

She moved over to you and held out her hand, “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

“Daisy –” Your voice was more serious as you gave her the phone.

“I’m just…worried about you, alright? You came back here for a reason.”

“I need to do this Daisy. I have to make it right.”

Daisy sighed, “Not alone. And besides –”

“You’re my friend, Y/N. And I’m coming with you.” She said, in her tone that meant ‘this is final’.

You had no choice but to nod, “Ok, let’s save our asses.”

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Your first stop was a bar. It was one that had a familiar vibe to it for you. And the person you saw tending it brought more than just a familiar vibe, it brought feelings to you. She still looked the same, still with her long burgundy hair, electric blue eyes. It was like she had never changed.

Then you saw the name she had on her name tag; it was different.

There was barely anyone else in this bar. It was just you, Daisy, her, and about 2 other people who didn’t seem to care of the new company.

However, she then looked up, freezing just as you had when you saw her. The pair of you were frozen, just staring at each other.

“Y/N.” She spoke. Daisy felt the atmosphere shift from cosey and inviting, to cold and distant.

“’Madison’.” You greeted back, reading the name tag she wore.

She looked at it and chuckled, “Yeah, well, desperate times and all that. You know how Marcus is.”

You took a step towards her as she came around from behind the bar. The two of you inched closer and closer…Daisy watched on warily.

“I know he wants his money back.” You said, bluntly.

“Ah, I bet he does. After that stunt you pulled.” ‘Madison’ threw back at you.

“That was SHIELD –” You never got to finish your sentence, as ‘Madison’ had struck you on the face.

You retorted with your own. The two of you then found yourself with two arms holding each other as you both threw yourself into the bar, heads colliding with the pumps. You both groaned at your less than stellar plan.

“SHIELD picked me up! You don’t think I wanted to come back!” You yelled as she smashed a bottle on the table.

“Then why didn’t you?” She asked as she attacked you with the bottle. You jumped back, before slamming your head into hers.

“I was trying to –” She counted with a kick between your legs.

“I had to change my name because of that bastard! And you come back!” She exclaimed.

“Then why are you mad at me?!” You said, on your knees, holding between your legs.

“…Because you left, and I had no idea where you were. I thought you were dead.” She admitted, voice going quieter.

Daisy then made herself known, putting her arm under your own and helping you up, “Why not help us? We could use an extra pair of hands?” She asked, despite her first impression of the woman.

She looked from you to Daisy and back again. She then turned to other two customers, “See those two?” Daisy nodded, still holding onto you, “They’re new. They don’t exactly know the tricks we do.” Daisy saw where this was going.

“We got it.” Daisy assured her, checking on you one more time as you had seemed to be more stable now.

“You do?” Madison seemed almost surprised.

“Trust me, I had to do my fair share of that to pay for shit.” With that, the pair of you went over to the two. You sat next to them.

It was like you’d never left; and it seemed Daisy did have a lot of experience of this. It was a simple gig really: sit next to them, pretended to be their friend, chat them up about whatever they wanted and pretended like you cared. If you couldn’t get close without them noticing, then you’d have to improvise…like Daisy was. Still, whatever worked and got you close, worked and got you close.

As you reached into the pocket and found what you were fishing for as your man had passed out, you saw Daisy deeply kissing her man as she seemed to be on autopilot with getting the card and some money out of the pocket.

She seemed to be a pro.

When the two stumbled out, the three counted up the earnings the two of you had gathered.

Was it much? No, but it was a start.

“I can take some things from here, if we can get that out of our way.” At ‘that’ Madison pointed to a camera that was watching you.

“I got that, you take what you can and then we’ll go.” Daisy said, going to probably loop the footage of you all sitting there just moments ago.

That left the two of you.

“So,” Madison started as she poured you a drink and put it on the table, “What brought you home?”

“Something happened at SHIELD. Daisy had to get away from it all. I went with.” You answered as you took a sip of your beer.

“Why?”

“I couldn’t just leave her alone. She’s looked after me all this time I’ve been there, figured I’d return the favour.”

Madison sighed, “You’re a good friend.”

“She’s an even better one.”

There was a drag in the conversation following that. The only sound being you drinking, and her checking pumps and cleaning tables.

“I’m sorry you had to change your name.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s his. Besides, always kind of hoped you’d come back.” She said, stopping what shew as doing and turning to you, a light now in her eyes.

“You did?”

She smiled, “Yeah.” You smiled too.

Daisy had looped the footage, and the three of you drove to the French Quatre. It was still as lively as ever.

And that meant opportunity, that meant money. That meant making it.

It led you all to an ATM, with cards upon cards. It was close to midnight, and all you three were doing was trying the cards you had gotten. Putting in pins and taking out cash.

You ran out of yet another establishment, this time chased by guards. As you ran, you did see Daisy relax a little, seemed she had gotten something out of this too.

Your feet slammed against the pavement, but you still heard your chasers. Daisy quaked up to the roof, while you and Madison dove right into a dark alley way, just around a corner from where your foes were coming from.

You had lost them.

Daisy came down to join you. And, for once, the three of you laughed. You checked that the coast was clear one more time, before making your way to the ATM.

You did it, you somehow had just about enough. Daisy gave you a pat on the shoulder, while Madison gave you a peck on the cheek. You missed Daisy’s smile slip just for a second before it was back.

You then got out your phone, dialling the number that had called you.

Marcus answered almost immediately, “What?”

“I got it.” You said, proud of your actions.

He barked out a laugh, “Aye, you did? Well fan-fucking-tastic. Only, you daft cunt, you made a ruck doing it! You got coppers and what not looking for you. Aye, and little ol’ Jenny somehow come back to life, aye? I guess then, if you’re so fucking good at your job, you’d pay off her’s too, eh? See you at 3.” With that, he hung up.

Your smile was gone, “What is it? What’s wrong?” Daisy asked, concern now in her gaze and tone.

“He knows you’re alive.” You said, looking to Madison, who paled, “And he wants your share of the load.” She gulped.

Fuck.

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“How much do you owe him?” Daisy asked as the three of you sat in Daisy’s van.

“Between us, or separate?” You asked, pointing between yourself and Madison.

“I guess separate.” Daisy answered.

You looked at Madison, the pair of your quickly doing some mental math in your head, “Well, we’ve gotten mine.” You reminded Daisy. She nodded at the answer.

“About 5 grand.” She then looked to Madison.

Finally, Madison answered, “About $36,200 between us.”

Daisy’s eyes widened, “What?!” She sounded like it should be a shriek but was a whisper instead.

“There was a deal. One we did before Y/N got picked up by your lot. Quite a big load of women coming in.” Madison looked to you.

You knew what she wanted; and so, you continued the tale, “We didn’t let it happen. Then SHIELD came and got me. And Madison here…well.” You knew what she did.

“What’d she does?” Daisy pushed.

“Went off grid. New name, same place. Safest place from a Whale is inside its own belly, after all.” Madison seemingly decided to give just enough information.

And it seemed to be enough for Daisy, “So, how long do we have?” She asked.

“With Marcus? He said a few hours –”

“That’s not long enough.” Daisy argued.

“It would’ve been longer if I wasn’t here.” Madison looked down a bit as she said that, like a wounded animal. You grabbed her hand, rubbing your thumb on her knuckles. She looked at you but couldn’t manage a smile.

“Ok. So, we can’t get out without being spotted, and we can’t get the money – well, that amount of money, without getting seen. So, what’s the plan guys?” As you said that, you all ducked down as you heard a cop car go past. Its sirens were blaring as it raced past, so you knew it wasn’t for you; still, couldn’t be too careful.

When it passed, you all slowly got back up, the lights from the street being your only source of light through Daisy’s curtained windows.

Ok, maybe you were starting to get an appreciation for the van life after all.

Still, you had to get the money. You had to have a clean slate. You had to get Madison out of this life.

You looked at Daisy, and she saw that you genuinely cared for Madison. And, despite her first thoughts on the girl, she had grown on her. She saw the light she brought to your eyes.

It was the same way Lincoln brought that same kind of light to her life.

She saw you look out the window, you had a face she had seen before; if this was any other time, she’d go along with whatever you were going to say.

Here, not so much.

“Y/N –” Her tone was tense, there was an edge to it. There was a warning.

“You two stay here and –”

“No!”

“Hell no!” the two women exclaimed in sync. Daisy the former and Madison the latter.

“Y/N, you can’t just –”

“Would you rather we all go out together and risk getting caught? Or splitting up? Look, Daisy, I’m sorry I dragged you into this, ok? Really, I am. But we don’t have a lot of time.” You said as you got a pistol out of your bag.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! The hell are you planning?” Daisy asked, grabbing the pistol and lowering it.

“Desperate time and measures.” You justified it as, putting the pistol in your back pocket, “Look, do you want to the bank, or am I taking it? There’s only three options we have here in the short space of time; and none of them good.”

You then looked to Madison, “I got the streets. Regular and all that.” You nodded, that left Daisy with another option.

She didn’t look pleased, “I’m doing the bank job,” She said, ripping the pistol from you and putting it in her back pocket instead, “You go to the bars we haven’t gotten before. But remember, low profile.” She warned, pointing a finger at both of you.

God, she seemed destined to always play big sister.

You gave her a mock salute, “You’re about to rob a bank, Daisy.”

“Yeah, but I have a name to go with that. If we get too much, we’ll use what we have left to help us against the Watchdogs.” Daisy said, getting out the back of the van before you could argue any further.

You and Madison looked at each other, a silent, “Be careful” being exchanged between you both. You shared one more kiss, before you went your separate ways.

There was one more bar you hadn’t hit yet. It was a packed one, despite the time it was.

Still, you entered, looking for any sort of prey. Your eyes scanned the crowds, mainly large crowds in the area. Well, that could work in your advantage, but it could also be a hindrance.

Still, you went with “fuck it.” And walked further in, trying not to look like a desperate loser.

Your hand went into one pocket, and you got as far as the car, when a hand grabbed yours: a friend of his. He shook his head, and you put it back. He didn’t tell his friend, he only looked at you with bitter hatred.

That was enough of an arse kicking on its own.

So, no money, and arse kicking and a bar fight later and you were out. You made your way over to the van, seeing Daisy sat in the van, but laying low.

You opened the van back door, only to be punched in the face. Whoever had done that – not Daisy – had taken off running. As you readjusted yourself, your heartbeat rose.

They had the bag.

You got up, not caring about being careful anymore. Desperation ran through you.

You pulled the pistol, running after someone who would – whether they meant to or not – cause your death.

You pulled the trigger, and they went down. You ran, cars stopping and some screeching to a halt. You grabbed the bag the person had. You opened it –

And nothing was inside.

You then heard a van honk, and yours came careening around the corner. It stopped just next to you, “Get in!” Daisy called, with Madison pulling the side door open.

You were in, and you were gone the next moment.

Either no one had called the cops on you, or they weren’t doing as good as you thought they were. You had gone back to Madison’s bar, and the three of you sat in it; you stared at what you had managed to garner as a three –

“$2,832. And it’s…” Daisy checked her phone, “2:51 am.” Her words came out slower, as she realised how fucked you guys were.

You stood up and started pacing, “I’m sorry, I should never have come back.”

Madison stood up, going to you and holding your hands in your own, “Hey, you know Marcus. Whatever you bring him, ain’t enough. He’d find a way to bleed you dry just like those cards, but he’d keep going,” She grabbed your shoulders, “Y/N, look at me,” You did so, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think…even if we got what he wanted, that it’d be enough. I mean, look at me; I had to change my name and what not. He just works people until they get shot, then calls it off.”

You looked at Madison, and you knew; you knew that she was right. You then looked to Daisy, “Put what we got in the van.”

She tilted her head in a questioning manner, “What you thinking?” She asked, as she pooled all the money with arm and watched it all fall into a bag.

For once, it was almost like old times, with that look on your face returning; and she supported it this time.

It was a face that told her you had a plan.

“We take that money, split it between us. He gets none of it.” You said, looking at your friends and seeing if they’d disagree. They shared a look and nodded in sync.

Ok then, here you went.

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Daisy had taken the van away a bit, hiding it in a different location that wouldn’t be as easily accessible.

You all waited as the time ticked down. If anything, it seemed to slow down.

Still, after what seemed like 2 hours – but what was really 3 minutes – it was time. The clock silent struck 3.

And, right on time, he entered the bar. He hadn’t really changed, it seemed. Still an old man with a moustache that was well kept but everything else on him – clothing, hair, jewellery – was not.

“So, I’m here. Where the fuck is my money, lass?” He asked.

“We don’t have it. And, even if we did, you wouldn’t get a cent.” You said, standing tall.

He whistled, “Aye? And where’d all this backbone come from then, eh? Because last time we called, you were willing to suck my fucking dick dry to make amends. Now, here you are, telling me I’m not allowed to have my own fucking money?” His temper was rising.

“You wouldn’t be happy with that though, would you?” Daisy asked from where she stood, to your right and leaning against one of the backrests.

Marcus finally looked at her. He looked at a TV that wasn’t on, then back down to her. From her to the tv, from the tv to her.

“You must be the one on the telly, Quake? Or whatever the fuck they call you now?”

Daisy just held his stare.

“This ain’t your fight, lass. Just between me and them two cunts and what they owe, me.” He said, looking at you and clenching his teeth together at the last part of the sentence.

“It is my fight, when it involves my friends.” She said firmly, moving away from the rest and to your side, fists clenched.

Marcus let out what seemed to be a scoff and a laugh all in one; and none having good connotations with them, “Loyal. I’ll give you that. Even if, in this case, not going to pay off the way you want.” He warned her.

The front door opened, with two of his goons coming in. Madison barely had time to turn before she was pinned against her bar.

“Hey –” Daisy said, going to step in, when Marcus waggled his finger.

“Told you.” He said, in a sing song kind of voice.

“Run.” Daisy advised, even pushing you in that direction.

You did, as fast as you could up the stairs to the toilets.

Marcus passed Daisy, “I so much as feel this building shake, and I will fucking kill you all, alright?” He threatened, before coming after you.

You found yourself in one of the cubicles, “You know, Y/N. I always wondered where you went. Then a man by the name of Phil Coulson comes knocking at my door, asking about an agent Y/N and Johnson. Course, I told them the truth…” As he spoked, you saw his feet stop by a cubicle and heard the door be booted open, “That I knew nothing of you. To be honest, thought you were dead. Would’ve been happy with that. Then you show up, and you left me no choice,” He kicked another open; you had nowhere to go, “But, maybe…maybe I can amend that now.” He booted in your door. And, despite your efforts and struggled, he slammed you into the sink. As you saw your own reflection, a cord went around your neck and he hoisted you up into the air before your feet touched the floor, but you were on tiptoes.

In his voice, there was no joy, “Don’t fight this, Y/N. Don’t fight it. This’ll fix everything.”

The door burst open, but he grabbed a pistol and fired at the entrance, “Take one more fucking step and I’ll blow their fucking –” He didn’t get to finish, as you hit him in the guy with your elbow. The cord went from your neck, and you hit him with your head and sent him back.

Madison was next, slamming him in the fist with her fist. As he spun around with the pistol, Daisy quaked it away, before quaking him into the wall. He slumped down.

The three of your shared a look.

Madison had a car – stolen of course – but a car and a home. The three of you carried Marcus’ body down the stairs and outside to the car. You slammed the boot lid closed as the three of you shared a look.

You looked to Madison, pulling her into a hug and putting your chin on her shoulder. You pulled away, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” She said with a smile, but it was a sad one.

Daisy then hugged her next, “Thank you for your help.”

“Y/N is my…. friend, too. I’ll get Marcus here somewhere he belongs, then I’ll get a new ride. Heard there’s some good ones moving in.”

You pulled out a key in your back pocket, “Here,” You said, throwing it to Madison, “It’s yours.”

She looked from the key to you, “You serious?” She asked, excitement growing in her tone.

“Yeah. You’re my friend, might as well pay off the debt I can, huh?” She laughed, before hugging you again in thanks. She gave your cheek a kiss, before going to the car and driving off.

You and Daisy saw the “Thank you for visiting New Orleans!” sign as you drove away. Your phone blinked with a text. Looking at it, you saw it to be Madison: “He’s with the NOPD now :D” The text read.

You looked to Daisy, showing it to her.

She smiled, before moving her hand over to yours and squeezing it and then going back to the wheel.

You were leaving your home, now in your new one for the time being.

But one thing you knew for sure; you had a clean slate. Just not in the way you would’ve expected.

#daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine #agents of shield imagine #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d imagine #agents of shield x reader

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talesofayoungadventress · 4 years ago

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The fact I never did a blog about this kills me. Because there was some crazy shit that went down... as always. But here we are, 3 years later post global pandemic and online teaching 💀 Home girl NEEDS this current vacation. Anyways currently sitting here in Vegas with Monica and I needed to get this up for myself than for anyone to read… #memories and whatnot.

Monica and I did a 5 week trip to Spain and Morocco. I HONEST TO GOD thought this trip was going to be normal. We were older, safe and sane, & not out doin’ risky shit like we use to. All was pretty uneventful the first two weeks in Spain. We drank a pitcher or two of sangria a day, ate, napped for siesta... and anyone thats read from while I was in Thailand knows that is Monica’s specialty 😂, went to see some floating Jesus for Monica, and that’s pretty much it. The men are 🔥, the sangria is perfect, and country wide afternoon nap time is good for the soul. 10/10 would recommend Spain.

The words “Damn Monica look at us having a safe and sane vacation like responsible adults” even left my mouth at one point. We were so proud. Mom was proud I wasn’t out doing hood rat stuff. But then came our last day in Spain. I knew it was all too good to be true...

We stayed in a port town called Tarifa. Although we both had big girl jobs at this point, we still kept it cheap and took the ferry to Tangier in Morocco rather than fly. The night at our hotel set the tone for the rest of the trip. The fire alarm went off in the middle of the night. I panicked and jumped out of bed because I wasn’t about to burn, meanwhile this bitch Monica leisurely gets up, walks to the sink, puts her sweatshirt on and starts washing her face. WASHING HER FREAKING FACE!! WTF!? I actually yelled at her and got her butt out. Thank god it was a false alarm. But moral of the story Monica would have let us burn to wash her face 😑

The ferry was mistake #1. I took Dramamine and Monica didn’t want to. You get one guess who spent the entire ferry ride throwing up in a sink.

Now I’ve only ever thought I was about to be snatched once while traveling. It was in Cambodia with Monica and our psycho drugged out tuk tuk driver. I can add our first day in Morocco as the second time.

For whatever reason Morocco doesn’t let you get money before entering the country like other places. You need to get it from ATM’s at the airport upon arrival. But we chose the cheap route (never again and this lesson will come back to haunt me later... 🐫) and came on the ferry. We asked where we could get $ and they said they had lots of ATM machines outside of the building. Well surprise surprise we didn’t see any. We stood there with no money or phone service stranded wondering what we would do.

Then, out of no where, a man came up and asked us if we wanted to get money and told us to follow him. He led us to a row of windowless rape vans like you see on Criminal Minds and told us the ATM and money exchange was inside. Should I have gone in? No. Did I? Yes. Just when I thought I chose the safe and sane life in Spain it all went out the window. As soon as they opened the back doors sure enough there was a little ATM and a man with a table. Still leery I get in and they slam the doors right behind me. At this point I thought “God damn, really! After all that I’ve gotten myself into this is how I’m being taken out!?” But all went well and I got our money.

After the creepy $ situation, we got a random Chefchaouen and it was everything I wanted it to be. It was blue. It was pretty. We were even offered cocaine instead of the crepes we wanted our first night, and Monica made my fat butt hike up a steep hill TWICE in sandals. But that hike up was so worth it watching those sunsets overlooking the city and hearing the call to prayer. Monica 1, Meghan 0.

After Chefchaouen we headed to Marrakech. I wanted all the rugs, all the vases, tiles, baskets, purses. Honestly I was the equivalent to what the grinch looks like as he’s collecting all the Christmas shit from Whoville. Put it in my bag I’ll give you all the $$. We also stayed in the best boutique hotel. Monica wasn’t a fan until we walked in and settled ourselves. Monica 1, Meghan 1.

I straight up threw down those dollars in Marrakech. I didn’t work all those night classes for nothing! I texted a random guy who sold rugs that I found from someone online. Again... another risky choice but I wanted some damn rugs! Monica was pissed I’d text and leave with a random person for rugs but I was determined and dragged her off with me. Jokes on her because he was so nice, gave us mint tea, and let me live all my Moroccan rug dreams. I got 4. Did I need 4? Hell no! BUUUT did I want 4? Yes.

Shout out to my mom for putting up with my crap and letting me ship and store those babies at her house 😏. FYI they look fab in my new house.

Now there wasn’t anything else to report until the very end of our trip. This is when the “cheap route” reared its ugly head again. Monica is no longer allowed to plan excursions. Ever. 🙅🏽‍♀️ You get what you pay for.

We did a desert camping experience and took a random van 15 hours into the Sahara desert. The entire ride was sketch as usual, and they eventually dropped us off at a hotel for the night. The next day we had to give our room up and sat outside in 130° weather until our evening camel ride into the desert. My camel was NOT cooperating and it took me forever to get on. Monica was last to load up because she started crying and didn’t want to get on because “she could tell her camel didn’t want to go.” So she suggested she’d walk there… the entire 2 1/2 hour trip. The guides looked at her like she was crazy and said no and forced her on anyways. I heard her crying for a good 15 minutes before she was fine and wanted a picture.

My camel ride was 🙅🏽‍♀️. The blankets weren’t tied and my saddle was a triangle piece of wood that kept slipping off. Sitting slanted on a triangle piece of wood for almost 3 hours on a camel is the worst.

Once we got to the camp we had to walk through piles of camel poop to eat dinner in the dark. Also, no warning to us before hand, but our camp didn’t have a water bin or bottles so your girl was waterless in the Sahara desert 🥵. The bed sheets also had me shook to the core… not washed, probably ever, as there was a BODY PRINT STAIN you could see!

Despite the nastiness, the stars were pretty, we climbed to the top of the sand dunes, and I watched the sunrise because I refused to lay down on that bed.

At this point I was tired, dehydrated, and just wanted to get back. Monica still didn’t want to ride the camels (she was in her vegan phase this trip) and said she told them we’d pay to take ATVs. I used the last of $ I had left to do so, and we waited for them to arrive while everyone else loaded back up on camels.

This is where things got weird. We were left with two guys that helped run the camp. One started playing drums for us while the other just sat and glared the entire time. He eventually told us he didn’t like America’s, said we shouldn’t take pictures, and then plot twist he wanted to add us on Facebook. Shout out to Sayed for giving us creepy predator vibes.

Once the ATVs came, we got on and went on our way. While Monica took off nice and slow happy as can be, my guy guns it! I literally held on for dear life the entire 30 min ride back. He’d speed up while we’d go down the sand dunes and our ATV would literally hover down! I don’t remember anything, it all went black, and I almost died.

Once we got back to the hotel Monica was crying and told me it was because of how beautiful the sunrise was on our ride back. She asked if I saw it, but Girl NO I DID NOT because I was trying to hold on and make sure me and my backpack weren’t left in the dust.

We took a shower with a single small stream of water and then took another bus 15 hours back into Marrakech. I was next to a kid that threw up the entire time. No food, no water because I was out of money.

Now if you’ve made it this far bless you. This was the end of our trip and I ended it with picking up some bug that had me SIIIIICK the rest of the two days and entire flight home.

Which brings us to today, exactly 3 years later, and 2 canceled trips back to Thailand thanks to COVID. This road trip will be fun though! Here’s to being on home turf, accident free, not taking the cheap way out, and being responsible.

❤️ Love from Vegas 🇺🇸

#spain #morocco #girlstravel

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foradecision · 4 years ago

Text

i. “ the devil whispered in my ear, ‘ you’re not strong enough to withstand the storm. ’ today i whispered in the devil’s ear, ‘ i am the storm. ’ ”

OLD TOWN, DAY 33 ; 13:24:56.

the apartment is picked mostly clean, the fruits of his labor yielding little more than some scrap electronics and an open box of band - aids. other things, things for trade: coffee, cosmetics, a couple of undamaged children’s books, things he doesn’t have use for but someone else will. there’s an eviscerated corpse slumped on the kitchen floor against the cabinets, at the end of a trail of blood. tenant, maybe — or maybe just some unlucky bastard who tried to find shelter and found their own grave instead. insects buzz and swarm, and the smell of decomp is strong. there’s not much left. crane covers the body with a bedsheet before he moves to check the bathroom.

water leaks from underneath the locked door. once he gets it open, he sees why.

she was young. early twenties, if that. she’s half curled with bent knees in the overflowing tub, eyes open, skin bloodless and cold. drug paraphernalia litters the filthy tiled floor. accidental overdose or suicide; he’d put money on the latter, only because she’s not the first he’s seen.

there was a riverside shack in the slums, a mile or so behind the tower, where someone had tasted his handgun. left a note and a milk crate of canned food on his porch, telling whoever found it to take what they needed. there were those people on the rooftop of an apartment complex, the ones who’d gotten stranded and decided to cash out on their own terms. some of them died holding hands, family photos clutched close.

a woman on a hotel bed surrounded by pill bottles. a man who’d hung himself in the basement of a restaurant.

it doesn’t get easier. no matter how many, it doesn’t get easier.

“i’m sorry nobody came for you,” crane murmurs, and gently closes the girl’s eyes. “... hope you found someplace better than this shithole.”

he takes a moment, a five - count, then secures his findings, doubles back, and steps outside onto the terrace.

a wooden latticework awning provides slatted shade from the afternoon sunlight. it dapples across skin slick with sweat and dust and dirt. blood, but not his. back - spatter, arterial spray. it’s everywhere but his face; missed his eyes and mouth, hit the visor of a scavenged police helmet he’d pulled off an infected near the quarantine wall.

the slums are bad, but old town is a fucking war zone. virals run rampant through the streets and over the rooftops, acid - spitting toads linger near the waterfront and drainage culverts; massive demolishers pave paths of destruction wherever they can, hurling debris from empty lots, crushing anything that comes close, infected and human alike. rais’ thugs circle every drop point like vultures, armed to the teeth, and more than one desperate survivor has tried to jump crane for his supplies.

the worst are the screamers. the infected children. they were occupying one of the residential neighborhoods here in jarring numbers before he’d worked his way through and taken them out, quiet and reverent.

he dreams about them, sometimes. hears their anguished sobs and terrified wails in his sleep, waking drenched in flop sweat with his ears ringing and his heart in his throat. goddamn kids. one of the guys in his company used to rib him about that. fuckin’ soft touch, crane. that shit’ll get you killed.

the narrow street below is clear, just a handful of shuffling biters that are easily dispersed. he’s bent over the open trunk of a car, ferreting through an old duffel bag, when he hears it.

a cry. a child’s cry.

immediately, he’s standing straight. immediately he’s moving, trying to source the sound, gripping his machete tight. he’s thinking god, don’t let it be another one, until there are words instead of just noise and his pulse jumps hard.

somewhere close by, a child is calling out for their father. calling for help.

shouting is dangerous, lethal, especially here, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take. he moves down the street, looking into darkened storefronts, dumpsters, the backs of vans. he thinks he’s close, can’t be sure; cuts down an infected that ambles toward him from beside a busted atm and four more that follow, and calls back, “hey, i hear you! i hear you, i’m on my way, just — can you tell me where you are? kid — ?”

there’s no verbal answer: only a scream, too much like too many he’s had to hear, but that’s plenty. crane breaks into a run and vaults through the smashed front window of a pizza place where a dozen biters are swarming the counter. stumbling, trying to climb over each other to get to whatever’s on the other side. he snaps the first one’s neck before the others notice him but makes swift work of the rest, too. barely stopping for breath, he steps over the bodies, searching, searching —

“it’s safe, you can come out.”

the response is muffled, like it’s blocked by something. “where’s my dad?”

“i — i don’t know, but i can help you look for him, alright? i’m not gonna hurt you. they’re gone now, it’s okay. come on out.”

scuffling, then a thud, and then a pair of big doe eyes are peering at him from next to the cash register. “are you one of the bad guys?”

“what? no — no, i’m not, i promise. my name’s kyle. you wanna tell me your name?”

“eren. the monsters —”

“the monsters are gone, eren. did they get you?”

more scuffling, and the boy finally emerges, wiping his nose with his sleeve. he looks five, maybe six, small and dark - haired, dirty but at a glance unharmed. he shakes his head. “i hid in the cubby. my dad went to find food.”

crane stays where he is, wary of making any sudden moves. “and he left you here, all by yourself?”

“the window wasn’t broken before.”

“how long’s he been gone?”

“since the bells.”

“the bells — ?” it takes him a second, because it’s a sound unique to old town and he spends most of his time in the slums; then he understands. “oh, you — you mean the church bells? he’s been gone since this morning?”

eren nods and wipes his nose again. crane opens his mouth to speak when the boy brightens suddenly, as suddenly as the sound of boots crunching glass from just behind him.

“dad!”

he turns, and he’s staring down the business end of an automatic rifle.

“show me your hands!”

“ah, jesus — don’t — don’t shoot, i’m not here to hurt anyone, look —” slowly, carefully, crane raises his left hand with the palm facing outward and starts lowering himself into a crouch to set his machete down on the floor. his right hand follows his left and he eases back upright, all without once looking away from the man’s face. a man dressed in tactical gear, whose grip on the gun is steady. skilled. he has a couple weeks of beard growth that makes his age harder to determine. “my name’s kyle crane, i’m one of brecken’s guys. from the tower. your son was callin’ for help, i just came to make sure he was okay.”

as he speaks, eren scampers past and tucks in close to his father. “dad, he killed the monsters. look!”

“he sure did, didn’t he.” the man levels crane with a piercing, long - calculating stare, and finally lowers the gun. “you’re not one of them?”

“no. god, no. i just wanted to help.”

a nod. he lays a gloved hand on his son’s head. “then i owe you a lot more gratitude. i swear this place was secure when i left, but — those things ...”

“yeah,” crane says, blowing out a low breath. “i know, believe me. i’m glad i got here when i did.”

“so am i.” a beat. “thank you.”

“what the hell are you doin’ out here? you know they turned the university into a safe house, right?”

the man nods again. “we came from there. somebody passing through said there was a ferry, in the slums. that’s where we were headed.”

“i’m — sorry to be the one to tell you this, but — the ferry dock’s gone. there are no more boats. none of us are gettin’ out of here unless one of the higher - ups orders an evac by air, and in case you haven’t noticed, that doesn’t seem like their top priority.”

“then it’s only a matter of time before the GRE decontaminates this entire zone. infamy bridge is already compromised.”

crane blinks. the back and forth is familiar, the terminology well practiced. “uh — yeah. yeah, it’s startin’ to look that way. but — listen, you need to get to the tower. get to brecken’s people, tell him crane sent you. they’ll take care of you and your son. there’s plenty of food, supplies, there’s even a doctor on site. you’ll be safe there.”

“and what about antizin?”

“what? a—are you — were you bitten?”

they share a look, and everything this man isn’t saying is written in every line of his face. eren twists from under his hand to peer up at him. “dad ... ?”

“no,” the man says, but it’s for his son’s benefit, not crane’s. crane already knows it’s a lie. “don’t you worry, kiddo. i’m just fine. here,” he kneels down and sets his rifle aside, swinging a bag from his shoulder and opening it up to hand eren a bottle of water, a packet of halva, and a stuffed teddy bear. “look what i found. why don’t you go think of what to name him while you eat your food, okay? let me talk to the monster slayer for a minute.”

“cool!” eren grabs his prizes and trots off to one of the booths near the counter, the one furthest from any dropped bodies.

once he’s safely out of earshot, the man stands up and turns to crane again. “on the leg. happened after i left this morning. my eye was to the scope, i didn’t even see it coming.”

there’s that familiarity again, but it’s overshadowed by an ache below his sternum. crane swallows, adam’s apple riding the motion, pulling off his helmet to run a hand through sweat - soaked hair. “— i got caught in a clusterfuck, about a month ago. bite on the arm. antizin isn’t easy to come by, but brecken’s people have it. i’ll make sure there’s enough, you’ve got my word.”

keen eyes, still clear of any visible signs of infection, give crane a deeply searching look for a full thirty seconds. he seems like he wants to say more, but settles instead for offering a hand. crane shakes it firmly without hesitation. “ali. you’ve given me a lot to consider.”

“just as long as you consider it, and do it fast. ‘n hey — one more thing.” crane’s hand drops and he pulls out the three children’s books he’d found, bringing them to eren. “hi, buddy. you think of a name yet?”

“no, i — hey! where’d you get those?”

“what, these?” he holds them up one at a time, pretending to act casual, then sets them each down on the table. “well, i found ‘em, but — to tell you the truth, they’re way too advanced for me. you look like you’re pretty smart — think you can find some use for ‘em?”

“yeah!” eren grabs for all three, sweeps them into his tiny arms and grins up at crane. “i can read bedtime stories to my bear now, so she won’t have bad dreams.”

“see? i knew you were smart.”

from behind crane, ali prompts gently, “what do you say to mr. crane?”

“thank you!”

“my pleasure, buddy. be careful out here, okay? take good care of your dad for me. he’s gonna take you someplace safe, with lots more kids to play with. sound good?”

eren nods emphatically. barely a moment later, he has the teddy bear propped in his lap and one of the books laid open, turning pages, talking softly in the stuffed toy’s ear.

crane watches for a minute. his features soften, but the whisper of a smile that curves his mouth is bittersweet. he’s already made the mental note to radio ahead — to tell the tower’s guards to be on the lookout for these two — and to check back in here before he returns to the slums himself. they aren’t the first he’s redirected. some people make it. some don’t.

on his backpedal from the booth, he pauses to pick up his machete and slip it into its holster, helmet under one arm.

“if you leave within the hour, you should get there before sunset,” he tells ali. “northeast sewers are the quickest — two klicks, pretty much a straight shot from there.”

“i know where it is. thank you, again.”

“hey, you can thank me once you’re both safe.”

another nod. crane returns it, then starts toward the broken window. he’s almost there, almost stepping through to the street outside, when ali’s next words stop him in his tracks and make some of his breath woof out of him like a suckerpunch.

“semper fi, marine.”

#battle journals.*#hc.*#big oof! this got obnoxiously longkfndjng #but anyway. i love him. i didn't ASK #pt 2 comin soon(tm)

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thehikingnerd · 4 years ago

Photo

Day 141 (10/5).

It was probably the warmest and driest night in what seemed like an eternity. I still had trouble sleeping at times from being cold or uncomfortable, but still not as bad as it has been for a while. It was nice to wake up drier than when I went to sleep for a change. I heard a vehicle pull into the gravel parking lot and quickly got out of the tent. My hope was if they were locals they might be willing to give us an early ride into town for free, if we so were lucky. I spoke with the couple that got out of the truck briefly and they were parking there and doing a day hike on the PCT. They were nice, but no dice on the ride... then I saw the lady point and say something about all the fish as they looked down at the stream and I remembered reading in the Guthooks comments that the salmon were bedding/running in this river. After the couple left, I walked onto the bridge and looked over the edge to see all kinds of salmon swimming in the shallow water below. They were a dark red/maroon with olive green heads; their bodies deteriorating from the exertion it took to get them back here, far upstream from the ocean... focusing on the pain in my feet and knees, all of a sudden I felt some connection with them and their journey. I came back just as Butt'rs emerged from his tent and and we packed up. Another vehicle came and it was a work truck that pulled up next to the house there and it looked like he was going to be there a while so I didn't ask about a potential ride into town. Besides, we were starting to get close to the time the bus would arrive. I laid some clothes out to dry as we waited and it wasn't too long before the big red shuttle bus pulled up. We saw Will get off the bus and chatted with him and the driver for a bit. Will told us he had gotten in the day before and comped near the campground for free. He also had a new sleeping pad and said that he had gone the last week or two without a sleeping pad! My jaw dropped hearing this. I don't know how this kid didn't freeze, and just remembering how crappy it had been on me, I couldn't imagine how bad it was for him on the ground! I seriously don't know how he did it. He said he boiled water in his tent one night to keep warm, but I don't know how that really helped with all the condensation that would have caused. Crazy! We got on the bus and rode it into Stehekin with a stop off at their praised bakery (seemed just normal bakery to me but I'm not big on pastries and such) but I was starving and hadn't eaten anything since before dark the night before... so I got a latte a huge sticky bun and a doughnut. It was all good but not sure if it was rave worthy. I was feeling much better free food and coffee though, and we got back on the bus and went into the "town". We arrived at around 11am and had to get everything done by the time the bus left for its second and last round trip of the day which left at 2:30pm or so... so not much time to do everything we wanted. We went into the store there and I paid $15 for access to their WiFi and it was barely functional it was so slow. I took care of a few things online and then went with Butt'rs to the post office to pick up his resupply box and for us to both get a money order that we would then need to cash at the general store because this was the only way to get cash in the town (no ATM) and we needed cash for some things like laundry. We thought about it and decided no matter how fast we were we didn't have time to do laundry and take showers like we had wanted, but we really wanted cleans socks and to dry and few other items out so we washed our socks in the bathroom sink and then took them and put them in the dryer. I came back to the store and chose among a crappy overpriced selection for my next 4 days or so, which would also be the last leg of our hike before reaching Canada. This meant a lot of $.70 top ramen, peanut butter/Nutella and tortillas, some Snickers bars, some crackers, sardines, and chips... it wasn't looking great but would be enough to get me through... and I needed a new fuel canister, but they only had the huge ones which were $12 each and I didn't really have much of a choice. I will probably still be using this one for the next 3 years back in KY if they let me fly home with it, lol. Also, I got 3 cans of beer since they didn't have any hard alcohol for celebrating at the terminus (Butt'rs got a bottle of wine), which meant more heavy weight to carry for the last leg, and finally we paid for the round trip bus fare... all together this ran me like $80 or $90! That's not even counting the laundry or the WiFi, but I had little choice, what can you do? We packed our food away and went to the restaurant next store where I grabbed a cheeseburger and fries and we charged our batteries while we ate. The only good part about not having signal is that my phone was only needed as a map and camera and didn't use much over the past 5 days. By the time we finished eating we barely had enough time to get our laundry and finish packing up before the bus was beginning to load up. We finally met another hiker named Symba, and determined that he was the guy whose tracks we had followed for the last 3 days or so. He seemed cool and nice, but I just didn't have much time to get to know him before we were back on the bus and heading to the trail. It was all-in-all an effective and efficient in and out of town where everything that needed to happen got taken care of, and we were back at the high bridge by the afternoon. We both had to rearrange our things since they were just shoved in due to the rush. While rearranging, a nice guy from Sweden made us some coffee with his aeropress. That was nice, especially since we didn't buy any coffee in town and I was down to just one packet of Starbucks instant coffee. He even gave us like six scoops and put in a ziplock for us. Nice! We now had coffee even if we would have to just drink it cowboy style (just mixed in and not filtered). It was probably about 3:30pm or so when we headed back out and had to climb feeling all this new weight on our backs. It was slow going, but we had decided to just make it to a campsite called "Six Mile" that was about 11 miles in. We passed through a pretty great looking campsite early on. It even had canvas tents and a cabin, but it was too soon to stop. We got to the site a little after dark as the days were getting noticeably short. We walked down to the camp and it got much colder because it was a small valley with a creek flowing through. We had smelled a campfire and were a little hopeful for what that might mean. We walked into the camp and found 3 guys around a campfire with a cute black lab. We set up camp and chatted a little, but I finally asked if they minded if we shared in their fire, it had gotten really cold really fast. They let us warm up around their fire, and we talked as we cooked our dinners. We told them about thru hiking and they told us they were on a trout fishing trip and hiking from spot to spot doing like 6 miles in a day. They went to sleep and after dinner and then we did too... even though it was very very hard to leave that warm fire.

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betelgeusessonajblog · 4 years ago

Text

Carlos’ Final Day....

You knew this was coming

@thelostandforgottenangel not sorry!

Carlos rubs his eyes a little as he steps out of a portal, he groans a little then blinks “I need to get used to that.” he thought as he shook his head. It takes a minute before his vision adjusts to the normal light “Ah much better.” he smiled before pocketing the bottle that was in his hands.

He had decided to surprise AJ and, Raph after hearing both had managed to recover quite a lot since he’d last heard from them.

Carlos walks down the street as he pulls out his phone then dials AJ’s number, wanting to see if AJ was free so he could visit them.

After a few rings it goes straight to voicemail, Carlos thinks for a moment ‘Hm he must be busy with Raph.” so he decides to leave a voicemail “ Hi, Alex it’s me. I’m guessing you’re spending time with Raph. I’m so glad that you and he are doing much better. I decided to stop by Monstropolis to surprise you tonight but since you’re busy I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be staying at the MonStar hotel. I’ll see you tomorrow, have fun!” he said as he hung up then decided to check AJ’s Facebook page.

He smiled a little as he saw a new photo of Raph and, AJ that the young lizard had posted not too long ago with the caption ‘Spending the evening with my hubby’ underneath it.

Carlos exits his account then puts his phone away as he began walking down the street “I have time before I have to head to my hotel.”

He spends the next twenty minutes walking around, exploring the city as he never truly got the chance to do so whenever he did visit.

Carlos stops in front of a fast food stand and decides to grab a bite to eat, he pulls out his wallet to grab some money but groans a little “In all my excitement I forgot to go to the ATM and get this world’s currency.” he muttered.

Just then a woman with black hair in a bun approached Carlos “Excuse me but are you having some issues with money?” she asked as Carlos looked at her.

“Hm? Oh yeah, I suppose you could call it issues. In all my excitement to visit my son and, son-in-law I forgot to change my currency.” Carlos replied, chuckling a little in embarrassment.

The woman reaches into her trench coat and pulls out her purse “Allow me to buy you something from the stand.”

“Oh I couldn’t possibly do that.” Carlos replied as he held up a hand

“I do not mind as long as you can repay me.” The woman smiled

“....Oh...Alright. I am rather hungry and I have some time before I have to head to my hotel. Not for another half hour.” Carlos said as the woman approached the food stand and begins ordering herself and, Carlos some food.

Soon she hands a hamburger to Carlos whom takes it with a smile “Thank you so much. I’m Carlos Garcia, by the way. I never got to introduce myself to you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garcia.” The woman smiled “You may call me Miwa.” she said as she took a bite out of her food.

Carlos nodded “Miwa? That’s nice. Japanese?” he asked

Miwa nods “Yes, that’s right. My father named me it after my late mother.” she explained as she and Carlos ate together.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” Carlos said with a sincere look on his face “Losing someone is never easy.”

Miwa nods in agreement “Yes, that is true.” she shook her head “But we live for those that are no longer around.”

Carlos nodded “That’s a nice sentiment.” he smiled. He pulls out his phone to check the time “Oh, it’s almost time for me to check into my hotel.”

"May I offer a cab service? I use this company all the time, they are very reliable.” Miwa said with a smile

“Oh that’d be appreciated, I don’t know any companies in this country.” Carlos chuckled.

“May I borrow your phone to call the company? That way you can save it to use later.” Miwa asked to which Carlos nodded, the idea sounded reasonable to him.

Miwa took Carlos’ phone then dialled a number into it, she spoke briefly to someone on the other end before hanging up “They’ll be here within the next five minutes. Luckily a driver was in our vicinity.”

“Oh that is great. I hate having to stand around for long periods of time.” Carlos said with a smile.

Miwa nods a little in agreement “We should get going, they’ll be wanting to park nearby.” she said as she started walking off.

Carlos nodded as he followed Miwa towards a nearby store “outside here?” he asked

Miwa nods a little “Yes, I often stand outside this store whilst I wait on them.” she replied with a smile “plus it is a nice way to watch something on the TV whilst waiting.”

Carlos turned to look at the store, noticing it was an electronics one “Oh that is a nice idea.”

Whilst Carlos’ back was turned, a van pulled up behind him and, Miwa. Without hesitation, Miwa pulls out a syringe and stabs Carlos in the neck, he quickly passes out and is dragged inside the van.

Hours later Carlos groans as he wakes up in what appeared to be an old warehouse, his hands shackled above his head “Wh...where....”

Before he could fully grasp where he was or what was going on, something stabbed into his side then began to zap him. Carlos screamed out in agony as he felt the electricity run through his body.

Soon the zapping stopped as Carlos panted heavily, he looks up and sees Miwa standing before him “M-Miwa...?? What are you...”

“My name is not Miwa, you fool. My name is Karai.” Karai said as Carlos’ eyes widened in horror realising who it was

"Wh-what do you want from me??” Carlos asked, his voice trembling a little.

“You are going to spill everything you know about your son and the turtle.” Karai said with a smirk

"You must be insane if you think that I would ever betray my son and his husband.” Carlos replied before getting punched in the gut, causing him to grunt

Karai spends the next three hours trying to get Carlos to spill anything that could help the Foot win against Raph and, AJ but Carlos would just toss out useless information about AJ like how he has a passion for playing the guitar.

Karai slams her fist onto a nearby desk “STOP WASTING OUR TIME AND GIVE US THE INFORMATION WE WANT!!” she shouts

Carlos’ face was badly beaten and very bruised, his left eye had swollen a little, he spits some blood onto Karai’s chest “I told you, you stupid bitch....I would never betray my son or son-in-law.”

Karai growled as she went to punch Carlos again “Do not bother, Karai.” a voice called out as Shredder appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Karai looks at Carlos then walks towards Shredder “I have been at this for three hours now, he has given no useful information.” she said with an annoyed tone in her voice.

Shredder walks towards Carlos whom was trembling a little “If you wish to make it out of here alive, you will comply with our demands, lizard.”

Carlos inhales deeply “I...am...NEVER going to betray my family.” he replied as he trembled a little.

Shredder shook his head silently before looking at Karai and, in Japanese, tells her to bring Carlos’ cell phone over. He looks back at Carlos “You might as well say goodbyes now....” Shredder said as freed Carlos’ hands

Carlos drops to his knees, blood dripping from his mouth as he panted. He looks up at Karai as he takes his phone, his hands shaking as he dialled AJ’s number once again and...once again...only reaching his voicemail. Part of him was hoping AJ would be able to answer this time, hoping he could tell AJ personally his final words but decided to just leave one final voicemail for the young lizard “Al-Alex…I’m so sorry honey to call again….something happened and I’m…I’m not gonna be around anymore.” he took a deep breath but it still came out shaky “Alex….you have no idea….just how proud of you I am. Of the life you’ve built for yourself with Raphael…..I am so glad I took you in as my own son….You were the best thing to happen to me since Ollie….I want you to promise to keep doing your best….no matter what happens to me, okay? Tell Roger that I love him so much and he’s an amazing young man. Raph….Raph is an amazing partner….and I was proud to call him my son-in-law. I know he’ll keep you safe when I’m gone. Never forget how much you meant to me, Alex. I love you….I love you so much.” as Carlos finishes his message to AJ, Shredder looks at Karai and gives her a nod.

Karai quickly grabs some wire that was on the nearby desk then wraps it around Carlos’ neck and begins to choke the life out of him. He drops his phone onto the ground as Karai did this. He begins to struggle, attempting to break free. He wasn’t ready to die, not yet. There was so much he wanted to do and, experience. He wanted to live, he wanted to see his family again.

Karai tightens the wire around Carlos’ neck, she then puts her foot on his back as she pulls upwards causing a loud CRUNCH to be heard as his windpipe was crushed, killing him in seconds, the life quickly draining from his eyes.

Shredder stomps on Carlos’ phone as Karai lets go of Carlos, causing his lifeless body to drop onto the ground with a thud. Shredder looks at two nearby Foot ninjas “Hold his body up.” he says to which the two ninjas agree.

They each grab an arm then hold Carlos’ body up, he looks at his bladed arm then in one swift motion cuts Carlos’ midsection open causing his guts to drop out, blood pouring onto the ground “....Take his body and string him up. I want them to find him.” Shredder instructed some Foot ninjas whom all nod then carry Carlos’ body away.

A while later the Foot members wrap wire around Carlos’ neck then hang him up. Luckily for them this was the quiet hour in the street so no one saw them. Carlos’ body was soon hanging, blood dripping from his guts.

Meanwhile.....in the Netherworld....Carlos lays in the middle of a street, he sits up and rubs his neck “...wasn’t...I just...” he muttered as he stood up and begins to look around. it was clear to him that this wasn’t AJ and, Raph’s world....nor was it the Monster World....

Carlos walks backwards as he looked around until someone tapped him on the shoulder causing the lizard to turn around to see who it was.

Carlos’ eyes widened as he saw a young dog-like monster standing in front of him. The dog-like monster had two small horns on his head, his eyes were a light blue colour, his body was muscular “...Hello...love...” the monster said.

Carlos began to tear up “O-Ollie...??” to which the dog-like monster nods smiling as Carlos quickly wraps his arms around Ollie. The two share a long, loving kiss before they pulled away, Carlos places his forehead against Ollie’s “Ollie...I...I am so sorry for...”

“Sssh....Carlos....not once did I ever blame you for what happened to me...I should’ve tried to keep fighting but I was just so broken....” Ollie said as Carlos lightly caresses his face “I was....sent here to help you with....dying.”

“...so...I really died...” Carlos said as he began to sob softly, Ollie wraps his arms around Carlos “I...I didn’t want to die, there was so much I....”

“I know, love...I know...” Ollie said as he lightly rubs Carlos’ back, trying to soothe the lizard.

“Wh-What about Alex....?? He...” Carlos started to say before Ollie kisses him on the lips gently

“Alex is going to be okay....he’s a strong kid....I’ve been watching over you for some time. I am so proud of you for helping him out when he needed someone....” Ollie said as he pulled away, taking Carlos’ hand into his “....Why won’t we go start our afterlife together?”

Carlos looks at Ollie’s hand then at Ollie, nodding a little with a small smile “At...least I get to be with you again, Ollie...”

The two walk off together, hand in hand heading off to start their afterlife together. For once....Carlos felt truly happy....he finally had the love of his life back. They stand in front of a door, Carlos was nervous about whatever it was that was behind it but Ollie gives him a reassuring smile before they walked through it, a bright light engulfs the pair as they share another kiss.

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tibbinswrites · 5 years ago

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Suptober Day 6 - Outfit of the Day

Castiel liked going to the farmer’s market in town held on the first Saturday of each month from May through to October, before it became the daily ‘Christmas market’ in December. Sam would go with him most times but some days, like today, he’d prefer to stay in. Cas mostly went for the local honey; the stall was run by a sunny woman called Lucy in her mid 40s who lived on the outskirts of town with her apiary and she always slipped Castiel an extra jar because he ended up standing there letting her talk about bees for at least 20 minutes.

“You could come and see ’em for yerself, y’know,” she told him with a friendly wink, “I open them to the public some days. There’s a little tunnel and shed there with information of the types of bees I keep. For schoolkids mostly, class trips, y’know on the last Wednesday of the month in the summer. But if you come by sometime I’d let ya in no trouble. And if you’d like to help out, I could always use an extra pair of hands around harvest time.”

“I’d like to,” Cas replied with a wistful smile. “But I work a lot, a lot of trips out of town. I can’t guarantee I’ll be around.”

“Just if you can.” Lucy said, handing him his brown paper bag. “It’s nice to talk to someone around here who actually cares about the world outside of the one they see.”

Dean would say that the woman was flirting with him, he’d nudge Castiel in the ribs, encouraging him to try some kind of line, but Castiel never would. For one thing, he was pretty sure that Lucy wasn’t interested in relationships of any kind. She’d mentioned this once or twice, laughing about being happily single in the way that suggested it was true, rather than the way people often did, trying to cover their loneliness. For another thing, Castiel wasn’t interested. He liked Lucy, would like to consider her a friend, and he very much enjoyed talking with her when she was at her stall. She set up one most days while the market was on, though earlier in the summer, she had no honey.

He bought the honey mostly for Sam, who liked to spread it on toast in the morning before his run. It was more expensive than the squeezy bottles at the supermarket, but Castiel liked to show support for Lucy. Apiaries were a fine hobby in his opinion, and he would like a hive of his own, but until then, it was nice to support a friend.

Lucy sold other things on her stall too; beeswax candles, some scented with different floral or herbal tones. He’d bought one or two of these. He liked to light them in his room at night, just breathing in their fragrance. Everything was in some way bee-related: pencils and erasers, cheap things that Lucy probably bought in bulk from some warehouse, leftovers from the school trips that she could sell on, but there were also some things clearly lovingly made by hand. Beautifully stitched patches, delicately painted teacups, even a few small framed paintings done in watercolour, lace doilies, t-shirts, a few clay sculptures, some knitted items. There were also some larger prints in varying styles done and donated to her by local artists. She apparently taught weekly classes in the village hall on painting because ‘bees don’t pay the bills’, and attended several other crafts classes, to help her make things for her stall.

The weather was unseasonably warm for October and he’d gotten more cash than he needed at the ATM (he never liked paying with his fake card at the market; it felt disingenuous, like he was stealing) and he was feeling frivolous and this would be the last week of the market until May and the last honey until next year (there were less than five jars left on her stall, the last of her harvest) so he bought more than just the honey. One of the small watercolours caught his eye just after he’d made his purchases and so he bought that too; a bee in beautiful pastel shades of pink, purple and blue. It was in a chunky, plain white plastic frame and very small, the bee itself was about half the length of his middle finger. He would put it on his desk, he decided, right in the middle.

He felt a little bad, spending the Winchester’s money on things that he didn’t strictly need. Dean never complained about him buying food, so the honey wasn’t an issue, but he’d never really bought anything else except with Dean or Sam on a case so he wasn’t sure how they’d react. Perhaps it was only useless things Dean wouldn’t like him buying. If that was the case, then he could just utilise everything. He bought.

Xxx

“Cas?” Dean said, squinting at him through the steam coming off his coffee mug the next morning.

“Hmm?”

“What the hell are you wearing?” Dean’s tone was strange, thick, like he needed to cough.

“Oh,” Castiel said, looking down self-consciously at the black leather biker jacket, faded band t-shirt and worn jeans that could pass as being ripped by design, though they weren’t. “The jeans are yours, I hope that’s alright. I bought the rest at the farmer’s market yesterday.”

His fingers came up to the fabric hem of the shirt. Dean looked confused, and something else too, something soft.

“Why?” He asked.

“I-” Castiel hesitated, looked down again, at the light blue t-shirt with a little cartoon bee on the front, sporting scowl and a pair of crossed arms, a speech bubble that emanated from its mouth said ‘Buzz off’, at the yellow and black striped woollen socks, at the pocket of his jacket, onto which he’d sewn a patch of another brightly coloured cartoon bee, this one was happily leaving a trail of wonky lines in white thread that Castiel had sewn himself to try and make it look like the bee had come out of his pocket. He’d been proud of himself for this small accomplishment, under Dean’s heavy gaze though, his effort suddenly felt stupid and pointless.

“I liked them.” He finished in a very small voice.

A gentle smile split Dean’s face.

“Well okay then,” he said. “I think I’ve got a spare suit jacket you can use when we need to pass off as feds.”

“Can I wear my new tie?” Cas asked eagerly, tugging on the one around his neck and showing it to Dean properly, it was dark blue, similar to his other one, but a slightly different shade and with a very small bee outline stitched on the end in shimmering gold thread.

Dean laughed and took the end of the tie to examine it. “Sure, buddy,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked up. “It’s nice. Matches your eyes.”

@winchester-reload

If you liked this, please consider buying me a coffee.

#suptoberart2019 #suptober #spn fanfic #destiel mentions #bees #day 6 #outfit of the day #this one works less well for fanfic #if anyone wants to draw cas in all his bee get-up that would be wonderful #writing #prompt #TibbinsWrites

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coraliefm · 5 years ago

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hi everyone ! i’m so, so excited to roleplay with you all ! this is coralie, an old muse of mine and 1/2 of my children. feel free to like this and i’ll come to you for plotting (or i can message you on d*sco) !

** ✰ ––– son naeun. cis female. she/her // you don’t know ? that’s CORALIE SONG ! they’re a TWENTY SIX year old musician from MANHATTAN, NY. as part of manhattan’s elite, the reveller is known to be CREATIVE & HISTRIONIC. most people recognize them by statement necklaces, diamond chokers, discarded champagne bottles, sobbing down the phone at 2.a.m. ( elle, 22, bst, she/her )

abuse tw, plastic surgery tw

coralie was four when she moved to the u.s.a, her parents didn’t have much when they first moved to l.a. they saw their daughter as a money making opportunity so did everything they could to get her an audition to become the next big thing. they made her watch television constantly so her english would be better, so that she could communicate with others with ease as well as make them money. she didn’t mind learning; it came easy to her. the fact she was a pretty child meant she secured her first role at five and was a season regular on a tv show by six (that would go on for 15 seasons).

"the generation house" that would run for eight seasons and it would be shot in new york city. coralie was given the part of philippa ‘pippa’ cho, a main character. the money quickly came in and her parents were so proud of her.their finances had sky-rocketed because of the girls' success.

it became clear to the girl throughout her teenage years that her mother and father loved her because they wanted the money and in rebellion, she tried to quit. however, her cast members frequently reminded her of how much fun they had on set and although the days were long, she couldn’t argue with that. her director was more of a parent to her than her own. they saw her as a person and not as a human atm machine. coralie never saw a cent of money she made before she turned 18. once she did, she completely cut them off. they would come back every so often begging her but she has been known to be quite ruthless with them.

preferring to keep things private and sometimes cor’s fame scared her; the girl grew up in the public eye and she heard negative things about her, some of which were true and some of which were smear campaigns orchestrated by haters. she practically grew up in the public eye; she was one of america’s sweethearts in her time. where she didn’t get love from her parents, she’d get it from the public and she liked that aspect of fame, however, it was less welcomed by her when it was negative.

by the time she had finished shooting “the children of years”, coralie was eighteen and she was looking for something more substantial. however, the transition from child star to actress was very hard; no one could get past her previous roles, that were light-hearted and comedic. her only option was to go in to the independent film industry, to get down to the nitty-gritty, the meaningful and artistic films and some got recognition while some didn’t even make a final cut.

it was deflating to be pushed in to the background after so much work in her early years. it worried her because she hadn’t had to time to get a proper education, she hadn’t gone to school and appeared to have made no actual friends; most of the cast members that she had worked with had gone their separate ways; most of the child actors were either in rehab or had quit as they decided that it wasn’t for them.

her parents twisted the story and went to the papers, giving it their last shot to get some cash out of her. it also dragged down her reputation and she was no longer america’s sweetheart. it was very hard for her to accept that some people didn’t love her like they used to, considering the public was where she turned to for love. she would say that she doesn’t care about it so much now but that’s simply not the case. she’s alone and blames herself for shunning them to begin with.

shortly after, coralie turned to a life of partying as well as a music career. she had found it difficult to get interesting work and hadn’t really had any passion for acting anyway seen as she was forced into it. she came back with a brand new image the good girl gone bad , the rebel without a cause . the best way it can be described is lady gaga’s the fame era meets rihanna’s good girl gone bad. people were seeing her in a different light and while some were disgusted, her music was catchy, autotuned at times but people thrived on it. she couldn’t have asked for a better debut in the music industry.

she managed to complete her first world tour, even though the girl was exhausted and in a really bad headspace. she went big, every single time and that was going to take its toll. although she likes to believe that she makes her own decisions, her record company has just filled the void of her parents in a negative way. they’re using her for money and she’s tired - it’s getting to a point where it’s starting to show.

living in a penthouse in manhattan was great for the aesthetic. she was a girl that had come from nothing who had been working since she was five years old. however, it was the epitome of loneliness and she doesn’t want to feel like that. it lead to her crying down to her employees about how trapped she felt and how isolating it was. people kept talking about her and she’d do the unimaginable to try and keep up. a few months ago she even went as far to get her nose done but has neither confirmed nor denied the rumors in the papers.

she has started to do things for attention; she does like the attention, whether it be positive or negative as that means someone still has an interest in her and she hasn’t been forgotten about.

coralie puts on a tough front and she does well until she reaches her boiling point and completely breaks down. she feels so used by the industry but it’s all she’s ever known and has nothing and no one to fall back on. she is still a child when it comes to showingemotions and she demands attention from others by doing it.

she’s very active on social media. it comes across as quite narcissistic but her friends enjoy it. she’s a performer. coralie isn’t the most amazing vocalist to ever live but she knows how to put on a good show; she always goes out and does her best, wanting to give her fans the best performance possible. however, if she’s at all slack, it means that something’s going on with her.coralie finds it easy to get brand endorsements / campaigns because of her looks. however, she knows full well her company see her as a beautiful money maker and that’s all.although her life is a mess, she’s proud that she’s achieved so much… mostly alone.

people can tell that she’s a former child star and now pop star as she’s egocentric - the whole world feels like it revolves around her . she can be histrionic but it’s her form of acting out. she is chaotic but she does have a heart of gold. facades always fade with her and she can’t keep them up for long because it exhausts her. she just wants to be loved!

she speaks english,spanish (almost fluent), korean (as she’s forgotten most of it since she cut off her parents) and french (basic).

i’m open to everything! from friends, frenemies, fans, ex-fans, mentors, gym buddies, friends with benefits, drinking buddies, someone who takes her out to do normal stuff like shopping, acquaintenances from her time in the industry, people who she’s mistreated/been a diva with in the past, someone who she fights with a lot due to her entitled attitude, the list goes on ! give this a little like and i’ll come to you!

#mhqs:intro #abuse tw #plastic surgery tw

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xpouii · 5 years ago

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Tentacletober Day 27

It’s late! Smut Month is still releasing on time though just a bit later in the day. No worries! This is the Sequel to Day 19 and the finale of the series started on Day 9! There might be a followup in the future if there’s interest but it’ll be after Smut Month ends. Thanks for reading!

Prompt: They Won’t Hurt You

Characters: Virgil, Roman, Remus, Deceit, Patton, Logan

Warnings/Tags: Sequel to Day 19, SFW, domestic violence, child abuse, drug use, mentioned pornography, kissing, non-explicit nudity, sympathetic Remus, unsympathetic Deceit, sympathetic unsympathetic Patton (Yes really), mentions of self harm and eating disorder

Virgil rolled over when his phone pinged, the screen lighting up his face in the dark room. He smiled as he scrolled through the three selfies Roman had sent, each face sillier than the last. His hair was mussed and he was in pajamas with Remus over his shoulder. You’re not actually sleeping right now are you?

It’s two in the morning so yeah, I was sleeping. What the hell are you two doing?

Virgil yawned as he waited for the response. His phone lit up again and Virgil grabbed it.

Buying you porn. Remus is loving it.

Virgil choked on a laugh and pulled his pillow over his face to stifle it, hurriedly typing back. WHY

Because baby Virge only turns 18 once in his life!

Wait you’re in your pajamas. Where are you?

Roman sent another selfie with his tongue out, obviously standing in front of the clerk at the adult bookstore/bottle shop called Secrets. In the background Remus was balancing an armful of magazines—and a few boxes Virgil couldn’t see very well from the angle. He turned red. Roman what are the boxes?????

Happy Birthday! A string of birthday cake emojis and sexy lips followed the message, and then Go to bed baby see you tomorrow!

Virgil started a reply then quickly shoved his phone under his pillow and squeezed his eyes shut when he heard the footsteps. His door swung open and Deceit stalked in, “It’s the middle of the fucking night!” he growled. “And all I can hear is your fucking phone going off!”

“S-sorry!” Virgil said. “Roman couldn’t sleep and-“

“What’s going on?” Patton called, moving around Deceit smoothly and standing between the two of them. “Virgil honey are you alright?”

“Fucking texting,” Deceit said. “Fucking phone woke me up.”

“Put it on silent, baby,” Patton said. Something about his expression was different. He looked afraid. “Come to bed Dee.”

Deceit tried to step around Patton but he blocked him, “Go back to bed Patton I’m going to have a talk with him.”

“Dee it’s alright,” Patton said, reaching to put his hand on Deceit’s chest. “Come back to bed with me. I’m cold… please?”

Deceit shrugged off Patton’s hands and tried to nudged past him, “Get out of the way, Pat I’m going to-“

“Dee stop!” Patton shouted, refusing to budge from the doorway. “No more!”

Deceit paused, shocked, and then he sneered, “Suddenly you’re brave, huh? You’ve forgotten how things used to be.” He slammed Patton against the wall, hand around his throat.

Virgil scooted to the edge of the bed but Patton threw his hand out, warning him away; the teen pulled his knees to his chest as tears poured down his face. Patton didn’t struggle, but his eyes were wide; there was a primal fear there, and he was stuck, silent for a long moment as he fought the scared animal inside himself, “Dee. You’re… I won’t let you hurt him anymore. It has to stop now.”

Deceit’s sneer turned angry, and before Virgil could even shout, he punched the other man. Patton’s glasses fell to the floor, broken, but he stayed standing until the third blow that busted his lip, and he went down to his knees. Deceit spat on him, turning and storming into his study and slamming the door. Virgil rushed to Patton’s side, “Dad!”

Patton cupped his face, “Shhh baby I’m fine.”

“But-“

“You can’t comfort me, Virgil. Not after I let him do this to you for thirteen years. Now, go back to bed baby. I’m making your favorite for breakfast. Don’t oversleep.” Patton wiped his bloody lip on his pajama sleeve and pressed a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “Go on baby.”

Virgil walked backward to the bed, eyes fixed on his father as he stood and picked up his glasses, leaving the room. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, his mind running in circles.

Patton closed the door and walked into the bathroom; he flipped on the light and stared at his own reflection. His eye was red and puffy, and blood from his lip was smeared across his chin. He gripped the sink with both hands, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing away the tears that tried to surface. He wouldn’t allow himself the luxury. Washing his face, he regarded himself dully, a tired, selfish idiot who had let his own fear and insecurities make him abusive. Deceit might have put hands on Virgil, but Patton had destroyed him.

They were old memories, but it was like riding a bike as Patton took down the first aid kit and checked his face.

You never forget.

“Pat!” Deceit called as he stepped in the door, taking off his jacket. “Are you home?”

Patton emerged from the kitchen with a smile, “Hi sweety. How was work?”

“Dinner?”

“Oh… um… I’m getting ready to go and meet the guys from the hospital… you remember? It’s the little reunion today.” Patton stayed in the kitchen doorway, his heart pounding.

“So you just decided I don’t need to eat?” Deceit asked coolly. “So you can go whore yourself out all night?”

Patton’s face reddened and he looked down at his feet, “I’m sorry. I have time I can make-“

“Shut up!” Deceit hissed, and the slap was quick, not even as hard as Patton was used to.

But it caught him off guard, and he grabbed the doorframe to steady himself, whimpering. Deceit moved in and pushed him until he was pinned against the kitchen island. “Dee please let me fix-“

The second hit wasn’t a slap, but a punch to his jaw. Patton saw stars and his feet tried to give out. Deceit had never gone so angry so quickly before, and Patton tried to duck away, terror driving him to run rather than to sit and take it like he usually did. He was quick, and adrenaline drove him up the stairs. He’d just put his hand on the top banister when Deceit’s hand grabbed his shirt. His husband yanked him backward violently, stepping out of the way and letting Patton fall.

Patton had seen broken bones before, but he’d never heard one so clearly as when he landed on the bottom step and his tibia snapped.

Patton heard it now as he closed the first aid kit and replaced it on the wall, going back to bed.

Virgil was dressed and ready for the day when he emerged from his room, tiptoeing down the stairs and hurrying to the kitchen. Patton was at the stove and he turned around, looking a bit resigned at first and then when he saw Virgil he beamed, “Happy Birthday!”

Virgil stopped short when he saw the black eye, already going dark and ugly. His father was wearing his emergency glasses that he had in case his others were ever broken, and he was holding a plate of blueberry pancakes. “Dad…”

Patton walked over and set the plate down at the table, turning around and letting out a sound of surprise when Virgil wrapped his arms around him, “Oh, Virgil. Your breakfast will get cold.”

Patton gave Virgil a pat on his back and directed him to the chair as if afraid of his affection—and he was, reminded of the manipulation and cowardice he’d been using on his son. He went to the sink and immediately started the dishes, “So, my grown man, what are your plans for today? It’s Friday so you must be going to stay with Roman or Logan? Right?”

Virgil shook himself out of his surprise, “Uh… Roman wanted to have a party I guess. Is that-“

“Oh my sweet baby, you don’t have to ask anymore,” Patton said. “Do you need money? I’ll run by the atm after I go by the optometrist today and I’ll bring it by school ok? And I promise I won’t send any of those silly balloons that always embarrass you. I know-“

The air in the kitchen changed as Deceit walked in; Virgil looked down at his breakfast, tensing up when Deceit patted his back. “Happy Birthday, son.”

Deceit then walked over to Patton, and Virgil watched as he wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist and spun him around to kiss him, “Good morning, baby.”

Patton forced a smile that even Virgil couldn’t see through, “Look at you, all dressed up. Big meeting today, right?”

“That’s right,” Deceit said. “Plans for today?”

“I’m going to the optometrist. I must have broken my glasses last night when I got up to go to the bathroom. I slipped and hit my face on the edge of the vanity.”

“Clumsy,” Deceit said, and pulled Patton in for a deeper kiss, going so far as to bite his husband’s split lip. “You look beautiful, but wear some makeup when you go out. Not everybody appreciates a bare face.”

“Of course,” Patton said, watching Deceit sweep out of the kitchen. He went back to the dishes without comment, and Virgil felt sick.

On the way out the door, Virgil heard his father in the bathroom and stopped to watch. Patton was using a makeup blender sponge and concealer to hide the bruises on his face. He didn’t hear Virgil, or notice him standing there, and an ugly bitter feeling swelled up inside of Virgil as he thought about the way Patton knew how it felt, and still let it happen.

“When’s the last time he hit you? Before last night?” Virgil asked.

Patton jumped, and it was familiar, that hypervigilance, and Virgil was torn between sympathy and bitterness. “Virgil you’re going to be late for school.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

Patton sighed, putting down the blender and turning to face Virgil, “Before you were born. It’s been eighteen years almost to the day. When we brought you home from the hospital… on the way home he cried and he swore never again. He’d done it before but he’d never actually cried before. I thought life was going to be perfect, my perfect little life. I quit working, like he wanted, and we had you and you were so beautiful, Virgil, so perfect. Even when you cried and fussed and… god Dee loved you. You were the apple of his eye, honey, his little carbon copy. You followed him everywhere. You watched him get ready for work every morning and at breakfast you’d pretend to read the newspaper to him. You’d just babble away.” Patton laughed softly, then the smile faded. “Then, one day when you were six, you knocked his coffee into his lap. He slapped you so hard you fell off your chair.”

“I remember,” Virgil said. “A little.”

“You ran right to me and I picked you up and you wouldn’t let go of me until he left for work. You were mine after that. You wanted me to teach you to knit and when you found my clarinet in the attic you joined band and… I finally had the baby I wanted. Instead of… of trying to encourage you to go back to Deceit I just… held onto you. Anytime you got in trouble I called him, because if I disciplined you, you might go back. You might decide you liked him better again. I should have stepped in-between the two of you, disciplined you myself. If I didn’t make him so angry at you all the time… if I wasn’t such a worthless coward. I tried, Virgil. I tried to work up the courage so many times, you know. Every time I thought about it I could feel him hitting me, the broken bones and the cigarette burns and the blood. I couldn’t do it. I know you hate me and you should, Virgil. I’m worse than he is. I’m a monster.”

Virgil stared at his feet, then he took a breath, “I didn’t start self harming until the therapist talked me into it.”

Patton turned back to the mirror, “Jesus is there anything I didn’t do to you?”

Virgil shrugged, “I’m going to school now. Don’t know when I’ll be back but uh… can I have a thousand? Dollars I mean?”

“Sure. I’ll come by around noon or so. I’m sure the secretary will have to call you up and-“

“Just leave it in the office,” Virgil said. “And text me. I’ll get it between classes.”

Virgil left the doorway and Patton went back to covering his black eye, trying to finish before he started crying again.

Roman and Logan were talking at the breakfast table when Virgil finally showed, “Hey! Why were you so late, jerk!” Roman greeted.

“Happy Birthday!” Logan piped in cheerfully. He handed Virgil an overstuffed envelope. “Don’t open that yet.”

Roman bounced in his seat, pulling Virgil into a hug as soon as he sat, “Our baby’s finally a man! I can’t wait to give you your presents!”

Virgil chuckled, setting his bag down, “Ok ok, and I don’t have to go home either.”

“Until like this evening?” Roman asked.

“No,” Virgil said. “Like ever, but definitely not until we’re done partying.”

“Excellent,” Logan said. “I believe the morning drive alone will take four hours.”

Virgil blinked, “What?!”

Roman shushed him, “Worry about it after school. For now, you just have to make it through a day of classes knowing the absolute bonerfest waiting for you in my car.”

“Ok ok fine,” he said, smiling at his friends. “Logan? How are you feeling?”

Logan’s smile became warmer, more subdued, “I’m still adjusting, but I remain free of withdrawal and the doctor said if things hadn’t gotten bad by now I was in the relative clear as long as I can avoid the mental aspect of addiction which… the CBD has really helped. And my mother was so happy she bought me a car. I can’t drive it or anything, but she said since I’m not losing time anymore eventually she’ll concede to me getting my license. I’m not worried about it though. The two of you can chauffer me around until you’re off to college.”

“Right well if you weren’t going to get into the country’s finest schools maybe we could keep driving you around,” Virgil teased.

The other two were silent and Virgil frowned, “Oh god, Logan… did something happen?”

“No,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. “I’m taking a gap year.”

“Really?” Virgil gasped. “You?”

“We can’t all leave Remus,” Logan said. “And his portal jumping can only get him so far. He can’t follow you all the way to college so he’s going to live under my bed until you two come home. Besides, what normal teenager wouldn’t agree to spending a year smoking weed in their parent’s house with a… tentacle monster.”

Roman hummed, “Well, tentacles aside, Remus learned a lot about human anatomy last night. He was amused, then horrified, and I think he has a healthy fear of us now.”

Virgil snorted and hid his face in his hands, tears stinging his eyes, “Guys. I love you.”

The other two noticed the tears and Roman moved in immediately, “Baby what is it!”

“We overwhelmed him, clearly,” Logan said. “He’ll never want to see another penis again when you get done with him.”

“Not even possible,” Roman said, but he pulled Virgil’s hands away, fixing his makeup gently. “Tell me baby.”

“My dad… fuck. It’s a mess you guys. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start after our text messages,” Roman said. “Until the bell rings, then we’ll catch up at lunch.”

Virgil managed to tell them everything in a short, dirty version before the bell rang. Both of his friends were speechless—and Virgil could hardly blame them—but Roman did walk him to class holding his hand.

When lunch rolled around, all three of them took to Virgil’s truck, Logan in the cramped backseat and the other two up front. Virgil drove them off campus to the nearby park and opened his gift from Logan—a full baggy of pre-rolled joints, Berry White strain—and they shared it. It didn’t take long for the awkwardness of the morning to float away on the thick smoke.

“It’s fucked up, isn’t it?” Logan said from the backseat, rolling down the window and hanging his long legs out so he could fully stretch out. “Patton was beaten for… how long have they been married?”

“Good fucking question,” Virgil muttered.

“However many years, and then when Deceit decides to beat you instead, he just lets him, for almost your entire life. He just so happens to put a stop to it now.”

“Because you’re turning eighteen,” Roman said, taking a deep drag and holding it in while the other two waited. “You can leave now, legally, and never have to go home. He needs you to want to go home. It’s just like my mother on my birthday, the selfish bitch.”

“You think it’s an act?” Virgil asked, his heart dropping. “Really?”

“No,” Logan said. “But it may have been enough to finally get him to act. I think he’s just afraid that he’ll never get the chance to do penance for what he’s done to you. Personally, I wouldn’t forgive him. Tell him to fuck off.”

Virgil picked up his phone as it pinged and he chuckled, “He just left one thousand dollars for me in the school office.”

“Don’t tell him to fuck off,” Logan said, sitting up. “I’m an idiot.”

“Take the money and then tell him to fuck off,” Roman said. “Or let me do it. God please let me tell him off. I want to punch him in his other eye the piece of fucking shit.”

The truck was silent for a moment, and Logan leaned forward between them, “You’re kind of harshing the vibe, Roman.”

“I’m sorry,” Roman said, looking out the window.

Virgil scooted close and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder, “It’s ok, Ro. I understand.”

Roman turned and kissed Virgil, deep and needy, until Logan sighed, “If you two are gonna have sex will you take me back to school?”

The truck filled with their hysterical giggles, and the tension melted away leaving only warmth—and three insistent cases of the munchies—behind.

They left school together, Logan riding with Virgil all too happy to skip the bus. “This truck smells like weed,” he said with a smirk.

Virgil chuckled, “So, we’re having a party at Roman’s tonight but… what about tomorrow? What’s with the road trip?”

“I’m sworn to secrecy,” Logan said. “And now that I’m no longer popping Adderall I can actually remember to keep my mouth shut. I’ll just say you’re going to love it, and that’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“Should I pack a helmet?”

“Knowing you? Always,” Logan said. “But stop trying to get me in trouble with Roman. He’s meaner than you. What do you think Remus makes of birthdays?”

“Well I know he has them. Roman had a hell of a time teaching him about cake though when he had that Home Ec homework you remember? Remus kept putting his face in it.”

Logan snorted, “Remus said Roman’s doing better with the ice cream thing.”

“That’s what I heard,” Virgil said. “I uh… think as long as he stays strong and ignores his fucking mother. The other day I was on the phone with him and she told him he was getting fat. He weighed himself and he was 108 pounds! He cried for an hour on the phone with me but I got him calmed down. What a monster.”

“Well Roman did say she’s started drinking more so maybe she’ll drink herself to death soon.”

“Dark,” Virgil said. “But I gotta keep a close eye on him until we leave for college. I think we’ve got things worked out to share a room so hopefully I can help him through rough times.”

“What about your rough times?”

Virgil shrugged, “I have the feeling those will be fewer and further between.”

“You do know that self-harming doesn’t just go away like that, don’t you? Sure Deceit might not hit you again but… you’ve got all this drama with Patton now. Even if you don’t stick around to work things out, you’ll still have some feelings about the whole thing. How could you not?”

Virgil shifted in his seat as he pulled up to the apartment complex. “Look… I know. I know it’s gonna be hard and like… I’ll probably saw my arm off before I’m done but right now I just want to pretend I’m normal.”

“Fair enough,” Logan said. “Let’s all pretend to be normal.”

“Porn time!” Roman shouted as he jumped out of his car.

“Well… the two of us anyway.”

“Ok,” Roman said when they reached the door. “I promised mom there wouldn’t be any sugar so we should do our best to leave cake everywhere in here.”

Virgil and Logan exchanged smirks and followed their friend inside. “This is the first time I’ve ever been here,” Virgil said. “It’s nicer than the old place.”

“It’s alright,” Roman said. “Can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. How many days again?”

Virgil took out his phone but Logan rattled off, “Ninety-seven… well, until move-in day on your campus. I know because I’m helping not because I’m trying to live vicariously through you.”

“Good to know,” Virgil said.

Roman put the heavy gift bag up on the kitchen table, “Ok Virgil! Time for presents!”

“I should have gotten the helmet for this,” Virgil muttered, jumping when Remus bounced into the kitchen. “Hey Remus.”

“Happy Birthday!” the monster said musically. His tentacles were wrapped around him politely, the way they stayed when he was interacting with his humans. “I’m told it’s customary to spank you!”

“No, no I don’t think that’s gonna be happening,” Virgil said. “Thanks though Remus I appreciate the effort.”

Gifts and cake and a lot of laughs later, the three of them were sitting around the table. Logan was flipping through one of Virgil’s new magazines with a look of amused bewilderment and Roman was poking at a second piece of cake. “I can’t believe we’re all adults now.”

“I don’t feel like one,” Logan muttered.

“I’m starting to,” Virgil said. “And it has nothing to do with the porn, before you ask.”

“It’s because you ate three pieces of cake,” Roman said. “You’re transcending time and space because of the sugar.”

Virgil grinned and shoved Roman, “Well I wanted to make sure and defy your mom as much as possible.”

Roman reached over and spread a dollop of icing on Virgil’s nose. “Now you’re really a sweetie.”

Virgil faked a gasp, flinging a few crumbs from his empty plate at Roman, “Don’t start a food fight you can’t start, my friend.”

“Who said I don’t plan on finishing you?” Roman said, biting his bottom lip as he picked up the entire piece of cake and jumped forward, smearing Virgil’s face with it.

The boys were laughing as they fell to the floor, a mess of icing and crumbs. Logan ignored them, trying to figure out what the hell CBT was. Once Virgil started tickling Roman, the fight was lost, and Roman cried uncle, leaving the two boys in an undeniably intimate heap on the floor, “Told you you wouldn’t finish,” Virgil gloated.

“Happy Birthday you bitch,” Roman laughed, and Virgil leaned in to lick some of the icing off of his cheek. “Stay with me, Virgil, forever?”

“Yeah, but only if Remus can live under our bed,” Virgil said.

“We really do spoil him,” Roman said, pulling Virgil down for a kiss.

When it became obvious the kiss wasn’t going to stop, and hands began to wander, Logan rolled his eyes and stepped over them, leaving the kitchen. He walked upstairs to Roman’s bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. “Didn’t take them long, did it?”

“Longer than I expected, but no,” Logan said as Remus crawled up to sit beside him. “I didn’t expect you to duck out so early.”

“I was hoping you’d follow me,” Remus said. “I’ve been wanting to try something with you.”

Logan looked over and saw Remus’ cheeks were stained with a blush of green. He raised an eyebrow, “Are you trying to… hit on me?”

“I hadn’t started yet!” Remus barked. “I was going to lock the door and then put my leg up on Roman’s desk and you were going to ask if I was trying to seduce you. At least try to follow your own customs!”

“That’s from the movie The Graduate and it is by no means my custom,” Logan said. “But… I’m interested.”

“What?”

“I’m saying yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, fuck me!” Logan blurted.

Remus crouched and moved close, his nose touching Logan’s, “Are you sure?”

“You want me to rethink things?” Logan said. “Your breath smells like Old Spice… were you eating Roman’s deodorant?”

Remus sat back on his haunches, covering his mouth, “No!

Logan laughed at the absurdity and took off his glasses, “If you want to kiss me, go brush your teeth.” He stood and started to strip.

Remus froze to the spot, staring at Logan’s body, studying every pale inch that came into view. “You’re different.”

Logan looked over his shoulder, “Than the men in Roman’s porn magazines? No kidding. Are you going to brush your teeth?”

Remus scurried off to the bathroom as Logan looked at himself in the mirror hanging on Roman’s door. He had gained a bit of weight in his face, but it looked filled out, and his eyes were no longer circled in sleepless bruises. His lips, once dry and chewed to pieces were plump, smooth and soft. He licked them, letting himself smile as he touched the red rub mark on the bridge of his nose from his glasses. He reached and turned off the room light, leaving only Roman’s preposterous white Christmas lights circling the canopy of his bed, and Logan thought he looked even better in shadow. Behind him, a pair of green glowing eyes appeared and he shivered at the touch of tentacles over his naked body. “Don’t worry,” Remus whispered, ghosting his lips over Logan’s shoulder as his tentacles writhed and caressed Logan in the dark. “They won’t hurt you.”

#tentacletober #sympathetic remus sanders #unsympathetic patton #not safe for sanders #fanfiction

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grandtheftstarship · 6 years ago

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Drunken Promises (Leonard McCoy x Fem!Reader) [Request!]

“Hi I was wondering if you could write a story where Bones and the reader get really drunk on shore leave and get married. Neither of them know until they dock at a station and she gets a package on the bridge for Mrs. McCoy.” -anon

Hi anon!! I can NOT tell you how much I LOVE THIS IDEA. I had sooooo much fun writing this! Thank you for requesting!

Ughh I CAN NOT WAIT until summer break. Three more weeks, but they’re all going to be long ones. Here’s what’s going to be happening upload-wise: I have finals in two weeks and then I will be gone on a trip for another week without my laptop. I will hopefully have pre-written requests to upload from my phone, but I’m not sure if I will have time. If that doesn’t happen, once I get home I will write like there’s no tomorrow! I will be getting requests out

Word Count: 2043 Warnings: Fluff, swearing, implied smut Posted: Tumblr, Wattpad

You had definitely not planned on getting drunk. You were even the ‘designated driver’, and even though you were on Risa and had definitely not driven there, it was still (supposed) to be up to you to get everyone back to the ship safely. That was not what had gone down.

The beginning was coming back slowly and in little pieces the next morning. You were hungover as hell, and supposedly everyone else that had gone on shore leave was too, judging by how Jim had given everyone an extra day to regroup.

Sometime last night, you had rented a hotel room. You had assumed you had done it alone, since you woke up alone, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. You were sprawled over the king-sized bed, limbs tangled in the sheets and a bottle of fresh apple juice tucked under your arm. You groaned as light filtered into the room as one of Rigel V’s suns started rising higher, rolling over and taking a swig from your juice.

You could remember who you went with; Jim, Scotty, Chekov, Spock, Uhura, Sulu, and Leonard. You remembered slipping into that [f/c] dress that you had been dying to wear in front of Leonard and caking on that ridiculous amount of makeup to make him jealous when other guys approached you. You just couldn’t remember anything after that.

Hours later, your rumbling stomach was enough for you to drag your drunk ass out of bed, gripping the apple juice bottle tightly. You slid your legs out first, only then realizing you were nearly naked (which was just a little odd) and then allowing your head to adjust to the sudden movement. You didn’t have any clothes with you since you came here straight from the bar, so you shrugged a plush complementary robe over your shoulders and made your way to the doorway. That was, until something on your bedside table caught your eye.

You stumbled back towards your bed, bending down to pick it up. Your eyes widened when it hit you, nearly dropping back down.

It was an elaborate, stunning wedding ring.

You scrutinized it, bringing it closer to your eyes so you could examine it further. You brought it with you into the living room, placing it gently on the small kitchen counter, before looking in the mini fridge for something to eat. When you again realized that there was nothing in this room because you rented it when you were drunk, you had no food, no clothes, and no currency. You called room service anyway, telling them that you were a Starfleet officer and that the tab could be charged as a work expense. After all, your extra day was Jim’s doing, therefore making it Starfleet’s problem. They could deal with a $25 breakfast.

It wasn’t that much later when a young Risan knocked on your door to present an elaborate meal. (Maybe it would be a little more than $25) You thanked her and promised that a tip would be included on the bill since you didn’t have any Risan cash money. She left in a hurry after that and you sighed, pouring yourself some of the pinkish drink from the pitcher into a glass and walking out onto the balcony. You sighed at the beautiful view, wondering how the hell your drunk self had gotten this room, and your thoughts wandered back to the shimmering silver ring resting in your palm. You couldn’t have gotten married, could you?

Accidentally getting married to one of your closest friends would have been enough to deal with, but a stranger? You didn’t know if you could deal with that. You heaved another sigh, placing the delicate piece of jewelry into the robe pocket and settling into the plush chair. You decided you would figure it out later. For now, you wanted to enjoy the killer view and the sweet breeze before you had to face anything.

_________________

Leonard woke up in a strange bed, with next to no clothes on. He didn’t know where he was, or who he was with, or even what had happened the night before; all he could think about was his throbbing head and the fact that he might have had a one night stand.

The lump next to him was turned away from him, knocked out cold, tangled in the sheets and snoring softly. He slipped off the bed and found his pants, maneuvering around to the other side in hopes he would see who he had (possibly) slept with, but her face was obscured from view besides the mop of hair spewing out from the covers. He moved to pull the pillow away, but he stopped. He didn’t want to confront whoever it was if he woke her. That didn’t stop him from looking around the room for other clues, though. His eyes caught onto a peek of [f/c] fabric poking out from underneath the conforter, still slightly attatched to the wearer, and Leonard’s thoughts flashed to [y/n]. She had been wearing a [f/c] dress that night as well and the possibility that the hungover girl in front of him was her, but he quickly pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to deal with those feelings. His eyes wandered around a bit more as he shrugged his shirt on and he froze as a glittering piece of metal grabbed his attention.

Horror filled him as he held the intricate ring between his fingers, the possibility that he slept with a married woman dawning on him. He quickly placed the ring back where he had found it and hurried out from the room, running his fingers through his hair to make it seem less messy but making it worse. He buckled his belt in the elevator and smoothed the wrinkles out of the black tee he had decided to wear. In his hurry to leave he missed one crucial detail.

The silver band he wore on his left hand, matching the one he had found on the bedside table.

He could remember that he had gone with all of the senior officers to the crowded bar, and he remembered the dress [y/n] wore. Oh, that dress, with the seemingly modest frame from the front but if she had turned just slightly, the slit traveling up her thigh just enough, and the open back that exposed her smooth skin; it was all enough to make his mouth water all over again. The thought occurred to him again that the woman in the room might’ve been her, but he thrust it away a second time. There were plenty of women wearing that color that night, not that he would rather be with one of them. Part of him hoped that it was you, but then returned to the ring and all bets were off. She wasn’t married to anyone.

Not until last night at least.

________________

The next morning, you felt ten times better than the day before. You tidied up a little bit before leaving, placing the Risan cash on the table that you had gotten from the ATM in the lobby for the polite Risan waitress and the housekeepers. You also paid for the robe, which was what you wore over your open-backed dress in the chilly morning. You absent-mindedly fiddled with the ring in your pocket, slipping it on without thinking. You pressed your other hand onto the scanner as you walked through security to get back onto the ship, not even sparing a second glance to the screen that displayed your name. The security guard’s gaze snapped up to look at you curiously, but before you could understand why you were already walking up the skywalk back into the ship. You hastily made your way to your quarters to change, but bumped into Jim.

“Hey [y/n], back so soon?” he shot you a knowing glance and you rolled your eyes.

“Hold your horses, Jimmy. I woke up alone yesterday,” you assured him, sidestepping the captain and continuing forward.

“You sure about that?” he slid into step next to you, nudging your shoulder lightly. “Bones came back early yesterday morning-”

You took a sharp turn, interrupting him. He caught back up with you.

“Trust me, Jim,” you began, stopping in front of your quarters. “Leonard would never sleep with me. Plus, I have more pressing matters to deal with.”

You flashed the ring to him as the doors closed, Jim’s eyes widening before the metal hissed shut in his face. You breathed out in relief, calling the computer to bring the lights up to 75% as you slid out of your robe and dress to hop into the shower. You took the ring off and set it on the counter before slipping into the warm spray.

Ten minutes later, you stepped out and tugged on your uniform, walking out of the bathroom while toweling out your hair. You also put the ring back on, twirling it absent-mindedly as you made your way to the bridge for duty. The turbolift hissed open and you strode out to your station. You started prepping before you felt someone come up behind you.

“This is for you, Mrs. McCoy,” Jim sneered, holding the small package in front of you. Your eyes widened and suddenly, it all came crashing back down on you.

_____________

You sat at the bar, several shot glasses littered around you as you guffawed with a stranger who had just bought another round. You could barely hear or see anything, you were so drunk, and suddenly the man wasn’t there anymore. You looked around curiously, and that's when you noticed he was replaced with a familiar face.

Leonard.

He took your face into his hands and pressed his mouth to yours roughly, letting it escalate as you responded immediately. You made out for a while before he pulled away.

“I’m in love with you,” he slurred, caressing your cheek. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you replied, grabbing his hand and stumbling out from the bar. You had found a small pawn shop that was selling stolen jewelry, but you and Leonard didn’t care. You quickly bought the rings and rushed over to a small place that resembled the Little Vegas Chapel, and you were married. It had gotten a little heated on your way out, so you both ran to the nearest resort and booked a room. You both stumbled in, kicking off your shoes. You were kissing again, and Leonard was fumbling for your zipper as you crawled onto the bed. His hands roamed over your body, resting dangerously over your ass-

You snapped yourself out of your reverie as the memories trickled in, heat blooming in your face.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes flicking back down to the ring on your left hand.

“Did you just...” Leonard’s voice caused you to freeze as you turned around, ring in plain sight. His eyes zeroed onto it, slowly moving from his hand to yours over and over again. “Oh no.”

By now, you had attracted the attention of most of the bridge crew, all eyes on you and Leonard. He suddenly grabbed your hand and practically dragged you into the turbolift, pausing it as it started to move.

“[y/n], I’m so sorry,” was the first thing he said, surprising you.

“For what?” you asked. “I’m not mad about this.”

“You’re not?” he looked at you quizzically. “[y/n] we got married and we haven’t even had our first date yet. I took advantage of you-”

“No, you didn’t,” you insisted, placing your hand on his arm. “Len, what happened the other night; I wanted it. I wanted you. Drunk or not.”

He seemed to loosen up a bit, but he was still tense.

“Okay,” he said slowly, smiling lightly. “I wanted it too, but we still have this marriage problem..”

“Don’t worry about that,” you smirked cheekily. “I quite like being Mrs. McCoy.”

He returned your sly grin, sending chills up your arms. “Do you now?”

Your smile faltered a little at the predatory look in his eyes, adrenaline and excitement raising the hairs on your arms. He ran his hands up your body, resting them on your cheeks as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

He pulled away too quickly for your liking, eyes boring into yours.

“I quite like it too.”

#star trek #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #star trek fanfiction #star trek reader inserts #star trek x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy fanfoiction #leonard mccoy fanfiction #leonard mccoy imagines #star trek imagines #bones mccoy fanfiction #bones mccoy x reader #bones mccoy imagines #bones mccoy reader inserts

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dream-beyond-the-fantasy · 6 years ago

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Saturday at GalaxyCon Raleigh

I was too exhausted to post on Saturday, so I will try to recount everything now.

My cousin Alexis and I left out at a little after 7 am, making a few stops (atm, gas, Starbucks). We took back roads instead of taking the interstate. Still a roughly two hour drive, but it was scenic and low traffic. We talked about favorite Tim Curry movies and horror movies (good vs. bad, remakes) and listened to some of her favorite podcasts during the long drive. Parking wasn’t a problem and we ended up arriving like fifteen minutes before the doors were meant to open. There was a huge line that we had to wait in because there were so many attending on Saturday and they weren’t opening doors for anyone unless you were con staff or a vendor. The waiting in line wasn’t too bad; it was mostly the people with VIP or 4 Day badges who were whining that they couldn’t get in yet. As our line got closer to the building, I spotted @boxofficequeen2416 and said hello. Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard to find the pre-registration desk or a bathroom.

Our first stop was the Exhibition Room. We decided to walk the outside first and work our way in before trying to find the celebrities and Tim Curry photo op line. God, it was so fucking crowded and suffocating. We saw how long Curry’s line was and decided to wait a few hours, checking out out other celebrities.

Our first stop was Chris Sarandon, as he was on the end and was a main draw for my cousin. She had planned to do just an autograph, but decided to do the combo. Alexis got her Jack Skellington Funko Pop figure signed. When he asked her name, Chris mentioned that he has a daughter named Alexis. He also asked if he could put his arm around her in the table photo.

My first stop was Barry Bostwick, as he had hardly anyone in his line. I did the autograph/table photo combo. I brought something to be signed by him. It was an oversized movie postcard that came with my Cult Films textbook from college. Barry hadn’t seen anything like it and had to take a picture of it with his phone. He signed it “Dammit Kristi, I llove you!” He took two selfies with me. He was super sweet. He had asked me what I went to college for (Media Studies). When I told him that I didn’t get a job in that field mostly because I didn’t know what I wanted to do, he was very kind and told me that it was okay and that I would find something that I was suited for.

My next stop was Daphne Zuniga. Out of all the photos for her to sign, there was only one for Melrose Place. Can you believe that? One of the two roles she is most famous for and only one photo for it! Naturally, I had to get that autographed. I also told her that I was currently watching the show and had just watched an episode that morning. She asked what season I was on. I told her that it was the third season and I think it was maybe the nineteenth episode of the season. Daphne couldn’t even remember what had happened in that season. That struck me as a bit odd, since she was only in the first four seasons. I told her that Jo was pregnant that season.

Next up was selfies with Kristy Swanson. She was really sweet and patient while I tried to get my phone ready. She took four pictures with me. I told her that we shared the same name, but one letter different.

After the panel was over, I met boxofficequeen2416 again. I really wanted to join her for the Anthony Michael Hall Q&A. But I knew my cousin was waiting for me. We were going to try and get into the Tim Curry line. No go, the staffer said try again at 2:45. So, I got in line to get an autograph from Jonathan Frakes. It didn’t look so bad, compared to how it was earlier in the day. OMG, I was in line for a fucking hour! My cousin tried calling me three times and texted twice while I was in line and I was worried that con staff would freak out because I had a phone out. It honestly wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t for VIPs and their “fast lane”. Damn line jumpers, ugh. But Frakes is such a sweetie who loves to talk to everyone getting an autograph and/or selfie. Sadly, that also makes things take longer. I got my DVD cover of Star Trek: First Contact signed by Frakes. He starred in and directed that film. He told me that it was is favorite movie.

I went over to Anthony Michael Hall’s booth, as there was hardly anyone there. I had my DVD cover for The Breakfast Club signed. He was really nice. He shook my hand and thanked me for coming. When he was about to sign, he asked how I spell my name, as there are about twenty different ways. I got compliments on my shirt, which I told him I wore just because I found out he was coming and that it has been my favorite movie for years.

We walked around a little more. Alexis bought some things for herself and a Bucky print for a friend. I found the Bard’s Tower booth and immediately spotted Timothy Zahn. They did free signings! I had Heir to the Empire signed by him. I also had a promotional Decipher card depicting him as Talon Karrde, Michael A. Stackpole as Corran Horn, and Shannon McRandle as Mara Jade signed. I received that card eight years ago at StellarCon 36 after I told Mike Stackpole that Tim Zahn was my favorite author. Stackpole signed it and hand it to me, telling me to hold onto it until I had the chance to get Tim to sign it. About 11:45 or so, we headed over to buy food. I got a pepperoni pizza from Papa John’s. She got some macaroni and pork, as well as a bottle of tea. The food was so good, but she felt hers wasn’t worth the $14 she paid.

Nearly four o’clock, we decided we were exhausted and ready to start our two hour journey home. There were several people that I missed out on seeing, but we had a great time. I hope to be back next year.

Then we decided to take a break from the Exhibition Room. I unfortunately missed out on Catherine Tate’s Q&A. But I knew Jason David Frank’s would start soon. Alexis went out to the video gaming section and watched a few games being played. JDF was nearly twenty minutes late to his own panel. When he finally showed up, he apologized. That man looked damn good in a suit. I wish I could have gotten a clearer picture of him. He is such a nice, down-to-earth guy. He even stated that it is perfectly okay for fans to try and take a picture of him, despite the con rules. He told us how he got into acting, how he received his role on Power Rangers, his cameo in the 2017 movie, and showed us the trailer for The Legend of the White Dragon, a Power Rangers fan film that he and Johnny Yong Bosch are trying to film with other ranger actors for the fans. OMG! We need this so badly! I’ve never donated money online or done anything with Kickstarter, but I am so tempted to do it for this.

After that, I think I went to see Christopher Daniel Barnes. I was originally just going to get an autograph, but his handler talked me into the combo since his prices were so cheap ($40 for both). Poor guy barely had anyone at his table, compared to his costar (Barnes voiced Prince Eric in The Little Mermaid and the mermaid herself Jodi Benson was always swarmed by fans). Of the potential photos to be signed were mostly Prince Eric, at least four different 1994 Spider-Man: The Animated Series prints, one which I didn’t recognize but also had Robert Hays (which I have since learned is Starman), and only one Greg Brady from The Brady Bunch Movie/A Very Brady Sequel. Naturally, I chose Greg Brady. Barnes is definitely a nice guy.

I believe our final venture was the Tim Curry photo op. The line was considerably shorter, thankfully. I knew that Curry had a stroke a while back and was in a wheelchair. But as soon as we went behind the curtain, I wanted to cry when I laid eyes on him. I am aware that he is in his 70s, but it appears that his stroke has definitely taken a toll. And the hours of exhausting photo ops probably hadn’t helped (he started at 11 am and was supposed to go until 5 pm).

#galaxycon raleigh 2019 #galaxycon raleigh #my weekend #jonathan frakes #anthony michael hall #barry bostwick #christopher daniel barnes #kristy swanson #daphne zuniga #jason david frank #timothy zahn #tim curry #chris sarandon

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innerclouds · 5 years ago

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Another request:

(1) Do You Sleep With Your Closet Doors Open Or Closed? Closed because I don't want the cat getting in there and peeing/pooping.

(2) Do You Have Freckles? No, but I have enough beauty marks that they make me wonder if I wasn't loaded with birdshot in a past life.

(3) Can You Whistle? Yes.

(4) Last Song You Listened To. The bangles walk like an egyptian.

(5) What Is Your Favourite Colour? I've answered this.

(6) Relationship Status. Bae.

(7) What Is The Temperature Right Now? Nice and cool.

(8) Did You Wake Up Cranky? Extremely.

(9) How Many Followers? Not sure.

(10) Zodiac Sign. Rat.

(11) What Is Your Eye Colour? Ugly.

(12) Take A Vitamin Daily? No.

(13) Do You Sing In The Shower? No.

(14) What Books Are You Reading? None atm.

(15) Grab The Book Nearest To You, Turn To Page 64, Give Me Line 14. "It's just that he never lies. Ever."

(16) Favourite Anime? Long list.

(17) Last Person You Cried In Front Of? Siblings.

(18) Do You Collect Anything? Lots of things.

(19) What Did You Have For Lunch? Kitchen sink stir fry leftovers.

(20) Do You Dance In The Car? No.

(21) Favourite Animal? Sharks, rats, birds.

(22) Do You Watch The Olympics? No.

(23) What Time Do You Usually Go To Bed? Whenever I feel ready to pass out.

(24) Are You Wearing Makeup Right Now? No, I don't wear makeup.

(25) Do You Prefer To Swim In A Pool Or The Ocean? Ocean.

(26) Favourite Tumblr Blog? Sebbysheepy's.

(27) Bottled Water Or Tap Water? Bottled.

(28) What Makes You Happy? Bae, rain

(29) Post A Gif Of What You’re Currently Feeling Right Now.

(30) Do You Study Better With Or Without Music? ASMR.

(31) Dogs Or Cats? Gatto.

(32) If You Were A Crayon What Colour Would You Be? Some kind of light gray or blue.

(33) PlayStation Or Xbox. PC master race.

(34) Would You Swim In The Lake Or Ocean? Ocean.

(35) Do You Believe In Magic? Not seriously.

(36) What Colour Shirt Are You Wearing? Two tone gray.

(37) Can You Curl Your Tongue? Yes.

(38) Do You Save Money Or Spend It? I'm horrible with money but I do sometimes attempt to save.

(39) Is There Anything Pink Within 10 Feet Of You? Cat toy.

(40) Do You Have Any Obsessions Right Now? A few.

(41) Have You Ever Caught A Butterfly? Yes.

(42) Are You Easily Influenced By Other People? Yes and no.

(43) Do You Have Strange Dreams? Constantly.

(44) Do You Like Going On Airplanes? Absolutely not.

(45) Name One Movie That Made You Cry. Can't recall.

(46) Peanuts Or Sunflower Seeds? Sunflower seeds.

(47) If I Handed You A Concert Ticket Right Now, Who Would You Want The Performer To Be? Ozzy/Bowie.

(48) Are You A Picky Eater? Sorta.

(49) Are You A Heavy Sleeper? Not as much as I used to be.

(50) Do You Fear Thunder / Lightning? Thunder no, lightning yes because expensive electronics and the wiring where I live is garbage.

(51) Do You Like To Read / Write? Yes.

(52) Do You Like Your Music Loud? Depends on the music.

(53) Would You Rather Carve Pumpkins Or Wrap Presents? Pumpkins. I can't wrap presents to save my life.

(54) Put Your Music On Shuffle, What Is The First Song That Came Up? I don't have a shuffle.

(55) What Season Are You In Right Now? (Weather) Autumn.

(56) What Are You Craving Right Now?

Chinese take out.

(57) Post A Screenshot Of Your Tumblr Feed. I'd rather not.

(58) What Is Your Gender? Meat popsicle.

(59) Coffee Or Tea? Both.

(60) Do You Have Any Homework Right Now? If So, What Is It About? No, I haven't had homework in years.

(61) What Is Your Sexuality? Problematic, apparently.

(62) Do You Make Your Bed In The Morning? Lazily.

(63) Favourite Pokemon? Specifically: Bulbasaur and Haunter.

Types: Grass, ghost, water.

(64) Favourite Social Media? They all suck.

(65) What’s Your Opinion On Instagram Stories? I don't know what that is so I have no opinion.

(66) Do You Get Homesick? Yeah.

(67) Are You A Virgin? No.

(68) What Shampoo And Conditioner Are You Using Right Now? The kind that smells really good but is generally bad for my hair/doesn't provide what's needed for it.

(69) If You Were Far From Home And Needed To Sleep For The Night, Would You Choose To Rent A Crappy Motel Room For $60 Or Sleep In Your Car For Free? I'd say car but I don't wanna run into issues, so crappy motel.

(70) Are Both Of Your Blood Parents Still In Your Life? One is, one isn't.

(71) Whats The Next Movie You Want To See In Theaters? Joker.

(72) Do You Miss Your Ex? Hell no.

(73) What Is Your Favourite Quote Right Now? "Never try, never fail."

(74) What Eye Colour Do You Find Sexiest? Green/hazel.

(75) Did You Like Swinging As A Child? Do You Still Get Excited When You See A Swing Set? Yes, until the backyard swing broke and I fell down a couple feet of incline.

(76) What Was The Last Thing You Ate? Rose earl grey tea.

(77) What Games Do You Have On Your Phone? NA.

(78) Would You Give A Homeless Person CPR If They Were Dying? Why Or Why Not? Chances are someone else would have gotten to them before me but if it was just me, sure. I have no idea how to do it really, but I'd try.

(79) Been On The Computer For 5 Hours Straight? Yeah, that's happened before.

(80) Stalked Someone On A Social Network? None.

(81) Do You Like Meeting New People? Not particularly.

(82) Do You Wear Rings? If You Do, Take A Picture Of Them. No.

(83) Do You Sleep With Your Bedroom Door Open Or Closed? Closed usually.

(84) What Are Three Things You Did Today? Woke up, went to work, came home.

(85) What Do You Wear To Bed? Oversized shirt.

(86) List All Of Your Different Beauty Products You Have Right Now. I have beauty products? When did that happen?

(87) Are You A Day Or Night Person? Night.

(88) List All Of Your Video Games On Your Phone, Console Etc. PC, and that's a really long list.

(89) Tell Me About A Dream That You Had And When It Happened. It involved rob zombie, a derailed train and my brother and it was years ago.

(90) Favourite Soda Drink? Ginger ale, root beer, dr. pepper, squirt.

(91) What Sounds Are Your Favourite? Water, wind, leaves, various ASMRs.

(92) Do You Wear Jeans Or Sweats More? Half and half.

(93) How Do You Look Right Now? Tired.

(94) Name Something That Relaxes You. Bae, rain.

(95) What Tattoo Do You Want? I've answered this.

(96) Favourite YouTuber? Those that are "problematic", apparently.

Source: my-bitter-soul

#request thing

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 years ago

Text

The Deal

Summary: The reader is on vacation when the bank she’s in gets held up. Only they aren’t there for the money, they’re there for her. Her only option to get through this might be a little help from one of her kidnappers but even he isn’t exactly what he seems...

Square: Kidnapping

Pairing: Criminal!Dean x reader

Word Count: 18,200ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of murder/assualt

A/N: This fic has some darker elements to it (it’s not too dark but at some points it gets there) so please head the warnings!

A/N #2: Written for @spngenrebingo

“We should-”

“Shh,” said the man beside you, holding his finger to his lips. You opened your mouth again, his hand flying over it. “Don’t talk.”

You rolled your eyes but he dropped his hand, turning his head back the other direction. He was staring off into space while you watched the three men in black leave the lobby and head down a hall. You looked at the man next to you and grabbed his arm, pointing at the now free exit.

“We should make a break for it,” you whispered. “While we have a chance.”

“I knew you were going to be a troublemaker,” he said. You cocked your head, not realizing what was happening until it was too late. He wrapped a hand around your arm and pulled you to your bare feet, walking effortlessly with you despite your struggling to the hall opening. “Someone wanted to make a jailbreak, boys.”

You shook your head, looking around the sparse lobby area. Most people had gotten out apart from you, a manger and a few tellers.

Two days into your dream vacation and you were being held up at bank when you just needed to use an ATM. One of the men in black pulled off a hood, revealing a handsome face and green eyes. He looked at the other people in the room, then up and down at you.

“She’s the youngest one here. Pretty too. We bring her,” he said. You shook your head, the man with the spiky brown hair smirking at you. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You looked away, the man tsking you. You looked back and saw a gentler look on his face.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

“Y/N,” you said, tugging on your arm, frowning when the man holding it dug in harder.

“No need to hurt her. Y/N is going to do as she’s told, isn’t that right?” asked the other man, seeming to be a bit friendlier.

The real answer was no, that the second you had a chance you were taking it. You weren’t playing helpless victim today.

“Go help the others. I’ll handle this,” said the man. He gave the other man a hard look, obviously a show of his authority as you were passed off. The one that spoke to you before seemed even stronger, quietly pulling you aside and into an office.

You pulled your free fist back when he dropped your arm and put all your weight behind it, gulping when the man caught it halfway to his face.

“Now...” he said, shuffling your hands together, pinning your wrists together under one of his. He took a step closer, lowering his head to yours, brushing his lips against your ear. You winced at what he was going to do but he shushed you. “I need you to trust me. You will get hurt but I will not let anyone touch you or kill you. You’re about to have a very, very bad day but if you do exactly what I say and I mean exactly, without question, I might be able to get us both out of this alive. Understand?”

“Are you a cop?” you whispered. He chuckled lightly.

“I’m Dean. Now Y/N, you have very little time left to make your decision. Are you going to do what I say? Or is that spark in you going to get you into trouble?” he asked.

“I can’t trust you. I don’t-” you said before he sighed. He stepped back and pulled back his fist. Most of it avoided your face but it definitely scuffed up your cheek. “Ouch! Why won’t you just let us go?”

“We’re not robbing a bank today sweetheart. I’m supposed to be kidnapping you,” he said. Your jaw dropped, head already shaking that wasn’t possible. “You and me are running out of time so either you do what I say or you’re going to wind up in a very bad place for the rest of your very short life.”

“Let me go,” you said, kicking at his leg. He rolled his eyes and released your hands, pushing you back on the ground.

“You just had to be a scrappy one, didn’t you,” he said, standing over you, lifting up a foot.

A minute later you were walking out of the room with Dean, scratching at the spot between your shoulder blades as best you could. He freaking cut you, like a needle pricking your skin and now your back hurt and you felt the wet trickle of blood.

“Stop picking at your tracker. Even if you run, we’ll know where you are,” said Dean. You relaxed your arms, hoping that was a joke, the look on his face saying it most certainly wasn’t.

“What are you still doing here? We’re leaving, now,” said Dean, his group of men leaving with some money it looked like they decided to take and pulling you along. Dean opened a black SUV in the alley outside and slid inside, someone shoving you after as another man slid in beside you. You let your hands fall into your lap, giving Dean a glance.

He responded by grabbing a piece of plastic from a flap in his vest, shoving it over your wrists and forcing them together. You sighed, startled when a hood fell over your face, blocking out all light.

“Relax. The less you see, the better.”

“She’s cute,” said one of the men once you’d stopped driving. You were on a couch, not sure where but there were train tracks nearby. You flinched when a finger touched your arm, Dean grunting.

“Don’t touch the merchandise. He won’t be happy she’s coming pre-beaten as is. Imagine that nut job when he realizes you touched his goods,” said Dean.

You didn’t care for how the spoke about you but the man’s hand moved away and the room grew quieter. After a while your hood came off, Dean leaning down to look at you.

“You look like shit but I did my best to land a soft blow,” he said. You narrowed your eyes, Dean sighing as he took a seat in a chair nearby. “I had to make it look good for the boys.”

“Let me go,” you said. “Someone paid you to kidnap me, right? Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll pay more.”

“Don’t say that crap to anyone that ever kidnaps you. They’ll just take your money and then give you to the kidnapper. Geez,” said Dean, kicking his feet up on a table, staring at you.

“Help me,” you said quietly, looking behind him, no one in sight. “You said-”

“If I wasn’t already helping you, that man would be doing whatever he wanted to you right now,” said Dean, picking at something under his nail. “So...you sit there and act terrified which isn’t too far of a stretch from the truth and let me worry about everything else.”

“I’m not scared,” you said, clenching your fists.

“If you give any indication about getting violent, I won’t have an option but to secure you better. Do you want that? I didn’t think so,” he said.

“I’m already restrained,” you said, holding out your hands.

“Technically,” he said, still digging at his nail. “Those are thinner than I would have normal used. We got a few more minutes alone. Spread your elbows far apart so your wrists are spreading the tie. Then slam it down over your thigh holding that position.”

You cocked your head but did as told, wide eyed when you saw the restraint break.

“I’m not trapped?” you asked. Dean was already out of his seat, grabbing the plastic off the floor, sliding new ties on you. “No, please. I-”

“If I can’t get you out, you know how to do it yourself now,” he said, glancing down. “Behave and no one will have any reason to take those off and put on a thicker pair or secure you behind your back.”

“You have some sort of reputation to uphold with them, okay, I get it,” you said, fidgeting with your hands again. “Please tell me what your plan is at least though.”

“For you to sit there and be quiet until I say otherwise,” said Dean, standing suddenly and going to the door, slamming it behind him.

It was at least an hour later when Dean returned with the other three men. One tossed a water bottle at you, Dean giving you a hard look.

You undid the cap and gulped the whole thing down. There was something in the water but the room was hot and sticky and if Dean wanted you to drink, you had to drink.

“Give it five minutes to kick in, then load her up,” said Dean. You didn’t make it to two before you felt yourself slump back into the couch, heavy and drowsy. The hood was unnecessary you felt since you weren’t sure you’d manage to stay awake that long but it went on regardless.

You knew you were being moved and put in the back of the SUV, rough carpet under you as doors opened and closed, the engine turning over. You weren’t even sure you’d started moving before you were asleep.

You woke up groggy, in pitch black and with something jammed in your mouth. You frowned at it, smelling like some old rag. You tried to spit it out but couldn’t, barely enough energy to lift your head let alone try some escape attempt.

Something was poking you in the back and all around you. It took a moment for you to realize the hood was gone and you were stuck inside something.

“You lost-“ said an unfamiliar voice, Dean barking back.

“I told you to let me do this job alone but you insisted it was a four man job. Well guess what. They fucked it up and now I have to track her down. You should have let me do this one on my own,” said Dean. You tried to calm down. Somehow Dean had hid you close by without alerting the others. He wasn’t handing you over so you had to trust him a little bit that he had a plan.

“If you bring her to me by midnight, you get your cut and what those three were going to get,” said the stranger.

“I’ll have her,” said Dean.

“Call me when you do,” said the other man, walking away. “We’ll set up a meet then.”

A minute passed and you heard nothing. Five more and nothing. Then an hour. You sighed and rested your chin on your knees. Whatever you were in, it was too small to move in, especially with bound hands. You were definitely trapped until Dean came back.

The ground moved from under you a long time later but you went with it, possibly in a car trunk but that didn’t feel right. You were far too cold and felt metal you were pretty sure. A van or large truck of some kind seemed like a better fit.

After being jostled around for what felt like an hour, it stopped and you felt like you were dropped a foot to the ground. You jumped but had nowhere to go, sighing when it grew quiet again.

It was another hour before you heard sound again.

“Don’t say I never did nothing for you, sweetheart,” said Dean. You heard a loud noise overhead, something popping off as Dean smiled down at you. You blinked up at him and the sudden light, only to catch that the sun was already setting. “I bet you’re having a barrel of fun today.”

You looked around, the cylinder shape obvious now as Dean hooked his hands under your arms, getting you to your feet.

“Here we go,” he said, lifting you out and sitting you on the ground. He pulled the rag out and set a bottle down in front of you. “Drink. It’s safe.”

You chugged it even faster than the first time around, aware that Dean was cutting through the plastic on your wrists.

“What do I do now? Go to the cops?” you asked.

“I don’t think so,” he said, waiting until you finished with the bottle to throw a new pair of ties on, these ones much thicker, his neat little trick likely no use now.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you asked, Dean kneeling down in front of you, unraveling the rag. “You said-“

“I never said I would let you go,” said Dean, giving you a smile. “But see you and me, we have a bit of trust between us now. I could have handed you over. I could have let those guys do as they pleased. But...I thought I would do the right thing and hear out your offer.”

“My offer? What the-“

“Earlier today you offered to pay more than what I would get for you. Now’s your chance,” said Dean.

“What’s he paying you?” you asked, Dean shaking his head. “How do I know if I’m offering enough then?”

“Okay,” said Dean, rubbing your arm. “Give me your best offer and if it’s higher than his number, you’re free to go.”

“Five million dollars,” you said. No way in hell did you have that kind of money but it might buy you more time.

“Woah, somebody aimed high. Don’t get get me wrong, you’re cute. But even psychos don’t pay that well,” said Dean, looking you up and down. “But we both know you don’t have that kind of money.”

“I got the money,” you said.

“No. You don’t,” he said.

“Dean, don’t…” you trailed off with a sigh. It was pointless. You were done for.

“I like you Y/N,” said Dean. “Which is why I’m going to give you the chance to earn your freedom since you’re not going to be able to buy your way out.”

“You’re nuts,” you said.

“Watch the mouth,” he warned, pointing a finger in your face. “Your choice. Take your chances with the crazy who I guarantee you will not get away from or work for me and I won’t do anything bad to you. Take the deal.”

“It’s not much of a choice,” you mumbled.

“Smart girl,” he said, tugging you to your feet, looking you up and down. “Hey, how tall are you?”

“You stole a body from the morgue?” you said, looking at the picture on the news and then over to Dean. He drove to a motel close by, ditching you in the bathroom for about two hours before he finally came back with some food.

“Did you want me to go kill an actual girl? She was a Jane Doe and you’re officially dead and off the radar. You’ll probably get a lifetime movie made after you,” he teased, plopping a greasy paper bag in your lap. “Enjoy.”

“Are you ever going to take these cuffs off?” you asked, digging into the bag with both hands.

“It’s not been that long, Y/N. Excuse me if I don’t exactly trust you not to wander off yet,” he said.

“It’s not like you kidnapped me or anything,” you said, the bag snatched out of your hands.

“I let you stay awake while we left town, sit in the front seat. I saved your life. But I’m sorry I’ve treated you so poorly,” he said crossing his arms, holding the bag under them. “You could even walk out that door right now and I’d let you.”

“You chipped me like a damn dog,” you said, pointing at your back.

“I did, didn’t I?” he said. You sighed and frowned at him. “Would you like your dinner now?”

“Yes,” you said, Dean not moving. “Please.”

“Better,” he said, setting bag back down. You ate quietly, half watching the news, half Dean as he cleaned a gun at the table. You were in a small town you’d figured out, holed up in a seedy motel, last room in the joint.

At first your mind went to some very dark places when he brought you there but Dean didn’t seem interested in you, not really. He sized you up occasionally and asked a few questions like your shoe size which freaked you out but he mainly left you alone.

“You realize making you look dead is the only way that guy doesn’t come after you,” said Dean out of the blue, lifting his head away from the piece of metal he was polishing.

“No one will look for me,” you said.

“Exactly,” said Dean. You grumbled and laid back on the motel bed, turning away from him. “You’ll get heartburn if you lay down after a greasy meal.”

“Who cares,” you said, a big part of you thinking about grabbing the lamp off the table and just hitting him with it.

“Hey,” he said, something soft whacking you in the back. You saw it was a pillow when you sat up, Dean leaning forward in his chair. “You work for me until you pay me back. If your ass isn’t good, my ass isn’t good so by default I care. Sit up. Take a hot shower. It’ll make you feel better.”

You rolled out of the bed and headed for the bathroom, the chair scraping on the floor slowing your movements. Dean barely touched you as he cut the tie off, turning around to go back to his seat.

“I offered this to you because you seemed smart,” he said, picking up part of a gun. “Does trying to get past me seem like the smart move right now?”

“You’re the lesser of two evils at the moment,” you said.

“I’m glad to know you’re warming up to me,” he said, waving you off to your shower.

You hummed when you crawled into bed a while later, ignoring Dean sitting at the table with his computer.

“I assume you know how to drive a car?” he asked.

“Yeah. Why?” you asked.

“If you’re sleeping tonight, that means I’m sleeping tomorrow while you drive,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, smiling to yourself at the opportunity to possibly get some help.

“Dean,” you said the next morning. He walked out of the bathroom, smirking at you. “Don’t be such a dick. Give me my shoes back.”

“You can drive barefoot. It won’t kill you. If you’re good, I might even give them back,” he said.

“This is a control thing isn’t it,” you said.

“This is a teaching moment. Drive where I tell you to drive and I give your shoes back. Try something, like trying to stab me in my sleep, and I will get meaner. It’s your choice. I always do give you a choice, Y/N. Remember that. You chose to work for me,” he said.

“I got it, tough guy,” you said. Dean shoved you as you walked, a warning all over his face. You reluctantly climbed into the drivers side, Dean telling you to get on a road and eventually a highway.

“Wake me up in four hours,” he said.

“Where am I supposed to go?” you asked.

“Drive in that direction. Don’t get off anywhere and I’ll take over when I get up,” he said, tilting his seat back. “Don’t try anything while I’m sleeping either.”

Four hours later your feet felt dirty and gross, Dean stirring beside you like he knew it was time to get up.

“Where are we?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Oregon. I got no clue where,” you said.

“Good,” he said. “That’s where you’re supposed to be.”

“Bathroom break?” you asked.

“We don’t have much further,” said Dean. “Take exit 9.”

“Dean,” you said, trying not to squirm in your seat. “I gotta go.”

“Stop the car,” he said. You threw it in park and hopped out of the car, ducking off the dirt road and behind a tree. After a minute you turned back, Dean tapping his foot on the ground by the car. “Get in.”

You were slower this time, avoiding a few rocks and branches with your bare feet, before you climbed in the back door. Dean drove for another half hour it felt like, no one at all around before he turned a corner and you saw a decently sized home settled into the forest.

“Wait,” he said when you got out. He pointed at a large garage nearby. You walked towards it but paused. Oh no he was going to...

Dean went to the side of the building and unraveled part of a hose, waving you over, your heart relaxing. Chilly water hit your feet but they were much cleaner. He pointed again for you to go stand on a wood deck. You looked back at him as he put the hose back, judging the distance to the car.

“Y/N…” said Dean, raising an eyebrow at you.

It was too soon. You needed a better plan. Running was no use with the tracker in.

“Y/N,” said Dean, tapping your shoulder, making you jump. “Come on, inside before you get cold.”

You followed him around the deck to the front door, stepping inside and surprised it looked like a normal house.

“You were expecting worse,” he said.

“I’m still not sure I’m not stuck in the basement,” you said, Dean chuckling.

“Only if you’re bad,” he said, kicking off his boots, waving you to follow. It took a second to realize this was his house, nice, cozy, a little bit masculine but everything was styled nicely. You gave him a strange look, Dean seeming to feel your stare. “I don’t have an evil lair, sweetheart.”

You went back to following, taking a seat on the barstool he patted.

“What exactly does working for you involve?” you asked, Dean pausing as he opened the fridge.

“I killed three people for you,” said Dean, smirking when you swallowed hard. “Yeah. Those three guys plus a drugged up you...they had some not so nice things planned so I made the executive decision on your behalf to get rid of them. I’ve also kept a crazy person from ever looking for you again. I’ve done a lot sweetheart and gave up a good paying gig. You do a little bit of work for me and then you’re done. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Work. Yeah,” you said, looking away.

“Not that kind of work,” he said. He gave you a long look, making sure you understood. Your gaze flickered to his back door, Dean chuckling. “You agreed to this, Y/N. If you run, I’ll find other uses for you. Maybe I call up our friend and put you back on the market.”

“If you don’t want me for sex, what do you want then?” you asked.

“I have a job lined up down the road. It’s a two man deal. You’re gonna be my partner,” he said, taking a beer from his fridge.

“Partner? You’re more delusional than I thought,” you said, crossing your arms.

“It’s not a hard job,”’ he said, cocking his head.

“I’ll give you what’s in my savings and won’t say anything about this whole thing. How about that?” you asked.

“We were making progress, Y/N,” said Dean, giving you a smile, setting his beer down. He stalked over next to you, staring down until you looked away.

“I’m sorry but I can’t sit here and pretend that it’s all gonna turn out okay, that you’re telling the truth,” you said.

“Then leave,” he said.

“You’ll stop me,” you said.

“You don’t know what I’m going to do which is why you haven’t done anything. You’re expecting you’ll only get one shot at this so you’re saving it, right?” he said. “I will take that choice away from you if you want. I can stop giving you choices and make you do this if that’s the way you want to go.”

You shoved him away and spun out of your seat, hands on your head.

“Just shut up!” you barked at him, leaning against a wall before slumping down, burying your head in your knees. There were too many what ifs, too much you didn’t know and you knew you shouldn’t be getting overwhelmed because you were giving up the possible one and only chance to get away.

Dean didn’t grab you. He left you there, moving around the kitchen, a plate setting down before it grew quiet again.

You flinched when the plate sound was too close, your face staying hidden away a safer option. You didn’t move for a long time, eventually lifting your head to find a sandwich and water beside you, Dean nowhere in sight.

You poked at the food until your stomach grumbled, then hastily eating. Looking left down the open hall to the door, you saw your shoes on the mat. You walked over to them, spotting Dean sitting on the couch in the front room.

“I gave you your shoes back,” he said quietly.

“Now what,” you said, wiping your face dry with the back of your hand.

“No more choices,” he said. You squeezed your eyes shut, staring at your shoes when you managed to open them. “Help me and you’re free to go after that.”

“If I refuse,” you said, staring at the door.

“Try. See what happens,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. You slipped on your sneakers and opened the door, walking straight outside.

You walked until you hit the edge of a small town, buying yourself a burger in a diner. When the bell to the door rang you knew who it was without looking.

“Enjoying freedom?” asked Dean as he slid into the booth across from you.

“I was,” you said.

“I see you’re not speaking to that cop over there,” he said with a smile.

“I realized something during my three hour walk to town,” you said, dipping a French fry in your ketchup. “Something bigger is going on. It’s related to this job you have. I think you need me. That gives me leverage.”

“Oh? Look who grew a pair during her unsupervised time,” said Dean.

“You were purposefully trying to get me to get overwhelmed,” you said, Dean stealing one of your fries.

“Yup. I gave you choices. It confused the logical side of your brain with the more primal, fearful side. You’re still confused, otherwise I’d be in handcuffs by now,” said Dean.

“I’m not going back with you,” you said.

“Yes. You are,” said Dean. You lazily played with a fry in the ketchup, waiting for Dean to get irritated. You had a knife on the bench beside you. If he tried...your thought stopped when you felt something hard press against your leg. “Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight.”

“I’m not going back with you,” you said, turning around in your seat, the cop nowhere in sight.

“Officer Meyers had to get back to his shift it seems like,” said Dean. “Unless you really want to try something, we’re going home.”

You thought about it as Dean put some money down on the table, holding out his hand for you with a smile. You begrudgingly took it, leaving the diner and climbing in his truck without a second glance.

“Don’t mope. I could be a lot worse,” he said. You cocked your head, Dean tapping his finger on the wheel. “Today was a trust test for you, Y/N. You failed.”

“Shocker,” you said, resting your head against the window. “I was never good at tests.”

“Oh and next time someone says they have a gun on you, it might help to look and see it it’s actually a gun,” he said. You lifted your head up, Dean shrugging. “Just sayin’.”

“Stay put,” said Dean, leaving you in the kitchen once you got back, turning down a hall and opening a door. You frowned as you stood there, watching Dean come back and bending down in front of you. He pulled off your shoe and put a band around your ankle, tightening it before standing up. “What is that?”

“It’s your babysitter. If you leave the house, a very loud obnoxious alarm will go off. I get an alert on my phone, so on and so forth. Now, if none of those things happen, it means you stayed in like you’re supposed to which will help with our whole trust issue,” he said. “It’ll come off once I can actually trust you.”

“You kidnapped me! Of course I don’t trust you!” you said, throwing up your hands.

“Then punch me! Try to get away!” he said.

“It’s not the right time!” you said.

“It’ll never be the right time. I’m always going to be bigger, smarter, stronger. All you got is luck and apparently, it’s the shitty kind,” he said.

To be honest, you weren’t sure who was more surprised that you hit him square in the jaw. You shook out our hand, Dean running his thumb over his scruff. He raised an eyebrow and grabbed your wrist all in the same motion, holding up your hand.

“You didn’t break your thumb which is good. You twisted right before the blow landed so either you were in some fights in school or you hung out with the bad boys,” he said, turning your palm around to face you. “Don’t dig your fingernails into your own flesh next time though.”

He dropped your hand and went to his freezer. He pulled an ice pack out and tossed it to you, grabbing another for himself and heading to his family room. He plopped down on a comfy couch, turned on his big TV and started watching something.

“I punched you,” you said.

“Do you feel better now that you’ve gotten that out of your system?” he asked, puting the show on mute.

“Why am I in one piece then?” you asked.

“Maybe I like to keep you on your toes,” he said with a smirk. “There’s a den with books and stuff on the other side of the first floor if you want to plan your next genius escape attempt in there. Otherwise, I’m watching golf.”

“I can watch TV?” you asked.

“Yes, if you shut up about it,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You have free reign. I will show you the upstairs and where you’ll stay when it’s closer to bed. We have both had a very long two days and I want to spend the rest of the day relaxing if that’s okay with you.”

You stared at him for a moment and went to the other couch in the room, sitting down on it quietly. He clicked the sound back on, completely engrossed within a few minutes. You leaned back, staring out a window to the forest, the sun starting to go down.

“Y/N,” said Dean, shaking you awake. It was pitch black out, most of the lights in the house turned off. A clock nearby said it was just after ten, Dean helping you to your feet. You followed him up the stairs and down a hall into what looked like a plain guest room. “Bathroom’s in that door. Shout if you need something.”

“I don’t understand you,” you mumbled, crawling into the big warm bed, almost too afraid to sleep again.

“Goodnight,” he said, pulling the door shut. You waited a minute, going to the door and finding it unlocked. You poked your head out of the room, Dean standing tiredly at the other end of the hall. “You just don’t quit, do you?”

“Door isn’t locked,” you said.

“It won’t be locked unless you choose to lock it,” he said, yawning with a stretch. “I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

“What if I don’t?” you said, crossing your arms.

“How about you stop with the crisis your having, agree to help me, like you said you would, and I’ll give you a 10% cut. Tax free. Go live on a beach with a dreamy surf instructor for the rest of your life,” he said. “It’s a chance to start over.”

“I liked my life,” you said.

“Did you?” he asked, tilting his head. “By my count, you’ve had almost a dozen opportunities to get away and if you really wanted to, you would have. But you keep letting me catch you or talk you into staying or behaving. So what the hell are you trying to get back to? Douche boyfriend that was all over the news?”

“He’s not...” you said, Dean blinking slowly.

“Right. That’s why you had bruises at the bank before anyone touched you,” said Dean. “Or...or maybe that’s why your foster mom seemed so choked up about getting your inheritance from your birth parents, not that it’s the millions you promised me but it’s a sizeable chunk all the same. Or maybe there’s the foster sister that clearly never wanted you. Or the-”

You flung your leg in his direction, the device flying off, Dean staring at it.

“How’d you get that off?” he asked.

“I watched you punch in the code,” you said.

“You couldn’t see me,” he said.

“You did it in front of your dishwasher and it reflected what buttons you pushed,” you said, reaching behind you, digging your fingers into the space behind your back until it was bloody, hoping you found the stupid thing until you caught Dean’s face, realizing there was never one in the first place. You wiped your face off as you stepped over to him. “You screwed everything up. Maybe my life wasn’t as great as the news makes it seems like it was but I had my freedom and I’m walking out the front door and I’m leaving your pathetic little ass behind.”

“Your back is going to need a bandage,” he said.

“Dean. I honestly don’t give a fuck,” you said, turning for the stairs.

“Help me do the job,” he said.

“I don’t give a fuck about your job!” you said. “I’m leaving.”

“Go down the hall,” he said, nodding back where you came from. “The room at the very end.”

“I’m not-”

“Go down the hall. If you don’t like what I have to say, you can leave. I’ll never bother you again,” he said. You rolled your eyes and stormed down to the other end, flinging open the door with your bloody hand.

The last thing you expected was a child’s room.

“This is my son’s room. His name’s Noah,” said Dean, stepping back, bringing you with him to the room just across from the one Dean sent you to sleep in. He pushed the door open, more of the same. “This is my daughter, Nora’s room. You don’t have kids, Y/N so I can’t expect you understand but I would do anything, anything for them. I do very bad things, very bad things because I have to do them, for them.”

“Why am I here?” you asked, looking up at him. Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Word went out to put a crew together. A crazy millionaire guy saw you at the beach when you were on vacation. He wanted you. I jumped on it. I’m fast at planning and executing but I know of the guy. Bad guy. Extremely bad guy. Not exactly an arms dealer but you know, killer crazy kind of bad. I was so tired of doing bad stuff lately I wanted to do one good thing. I honestly just wanted to save you and stop him. But I got a phone call before I could finish up with you. A job came in I have to take but I needed a pretty woman to work it with me, it wouldn’t work any other way. There you were, already having a bad day and I have no one to turn to for this,” he said with a half smile.

“Why-”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve been trying everything I can think of to scare you without scaring you if that makes sense. If you think about it, I’ve never laid a finger on you. I let your own imagination do most of the work for me. But I honestly do need your help,” he said.

“The guy who wanted me,” you said, giving Dean a look. “Where’s he?”

“Dealt with,” said Dean, looking over your head. “I took care of him like the other three. He will never bother you ever again."

“Where’s your wife?” you asked.

“I was never married. Noah and Nora were adopted at birth,” he said.

“You’re telling me that the guy who fake kidnapped me is the same guy that adopts twins at birth?” you said.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug, closing the doors, turning away, taking a seat on the top step of the stairs. You sighed and sat down next to him, Dean raising an eyebrow. “Why haven’t you run for the hills yet?”

“Someone has your kids, don’t they. They want you to pull off this job and you get them back, right?” you asked.

“That’s the deal,” said Dean, closing his eyes. “I’m so not living through this. I don’t even care if I do. I need them to be safe is all.”

“How old are they?” you asked.

“They’re four, five months. Five months yesterday,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face.

“How long ago did this happen?” you asked, staring at your lap.

“Three weeks,” he said, your head whipping up. “The job isn’t for a week and a half. I can’t wait that long.”

“I’m guessing if this were a call the cops situation you would have called them a long time ago,” you said, Dean nodding. “Fuck.”

“You’re telling me,” he said with a half chuckle.

“Show me some proof that these children are real,” you said. Dean pulled his phone from his pocket, finding a video of him feeding one of them, the other giggling in the background. “They’re cute.”

“I know,” he said, putting the phone away. “They both are. The man told me they’re being taken care of but they’re babies. I just hope they aren’t scared and they don’t remember this.”

“I want to make one thing very clear. I’m not helping you. I’m helping your kids,” you said, Dean whipping his head in your direction. “You’re going to start being a whole lot nicer and less threatening and if I want to go into town, I’m going into town.”

“Why would you stay? I know I need your help but you have no reason to,” he said. “I...Y/N.”

“When this is done, I want money and you’re going to find one of your unscrupulous friends, because I’m guessing you’ve got at least one, to make me a new identify. I get my start over,” you said.

“You just said-”

“You really think I’m going to let something happen to babies? I am still angry and confused with you but if it comes down to children getting hurt, I’ll do whatever I can to stop that,” you said.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile. “You have no idea how much I owe you.”

“Stick a bandaid on my back for me for starters. That was really dramatic and awesome just now but that fucker hurts,” you said.

“Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“Good morning,” said Dean, making a plate full of eggs for breakfast. He had one omelette already made, sliding it over to you. “Extra cheese and red peppers.”

“I much prefer you being the bottom in this relationship,” you said, Dean fumbling with his spatula. “I don’t have to worry about running my mouth anymore and it is the truth.”

“You might be crazy enough to help me pull this off after all,” he said, working on his own breakfast.

“So Dean, what do you do? I notice you don’t have a job exactly,” you said.

“My job is currently being someone else’s errand boy,” he said. “On a normal day which is what I think you’re getting at, I work in a garage, the auto shop over on Oak street. I work on cars, some commercial vehicles..”

“This is a nice house for a mechanic,” you said.

“I was in the military,” he said, sliding his omelette onto a plate. “It’s where I learned some things that make me marketable to a certain group of people. Most get that if you don’t advertise yourself as a mercenary or freelancer, you’re not and leave you be, especially considering I never did anything illegal, even on the side. I’ve never done this kind of stuff ever. But this one asshole decided he needed me over somebody else so he took my freaking kids.”

“You did do side stuff though,” you said, taking a big bite, surprised it tasted so good.

“Strictly bodyguard work. I did it for a few years for some rich people, made a nice chunk of change for this place. By the way, you’re going to be extra pissed when you realize that dirt road you walked back to town on isn’t the driveway. It’s the emergency service road. There’s a stone one just behind the garage that takes you to the road in less than a minute,” he said.

“Naturally,” you said, stabbing into your breakfast. “How’d you end up hearing about me then?

“I was already working for this dickhead so the job I had been working wrapped up and one of the guys on that crew was thinking of taking your job but I took it instead,” said Dean. He ate quietly, cleaning his plate in the sink when he finished. “It was stupid. If I screwed it up…”

“You didn’t. I mean you did but you didn’t,” you said, tapping your finger on the counter.

“Listen,” he said, taking your cleaned off plate, shoving it in the sink. “I know I’m on a short leash and I am in no position to be asking favors.”

“You’re right. You’re not,” you said.

“When they are back home and safe...will you make sure they wind up somewhere good?” he asked.

“Huh?” you asked.

“You know, a nice family. Nice people,” he said.

“I don’t follow,” you said.

“I am in prison as soon as this is done with. That’s a fact,” he said.

“Dean-“

“It’s what I deserve. I’ve broken laws, stole things, killed, kidnapped you...I don’t walk out of this and frankly, I don’t want to. It’s what I deserve. I understand if you’re too angry with me but you seem to care about my kids and I trust your judgement to make sure they end up okay,” he said.

“You trust me,” you said with a laugh. “Me?”

“You’re still here when I told you that you can leave and I’d never bother you again,” he said with a shrug.

“I have no idea where I am. I have no money. I’ve been wearing the same clothes for three days,” you said.

“Take it,” said Dean, nodding to an envelope at the end of the counter. “It’s about a grand. Your new identity will be ready in two days if you’re willing to stick around that long.”

“I thought you were giving that to me after I helped you,” you said.

“I never said that,” he said, crossing his arms, kicking at the floor.

“You have no leverage on me,” you said.

“I don’t want it, Y/N. Don’t you get that?” he said, turning his attention to the sink. He scrubbed the plate clean and then the pan, his ears preening as you stood and picked up the envelope.

“I will make sure your children end up with a good family,” you said, glancing at him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I’m going to the store,” you said. Dean nodded towards a side door, keys sitting on a table near it. “I want you to do something while I’m gone.”

“Yes,” he said, shutting off the sink, turning his head.

“I want you to write a confession. Every bad thing you’ve done. Everything you can think of,” you said.

“Understood,” he said, lifting his head. You grabbed the keys and walked outside, climbing into the truck they belonged to. It wasn’t until you were climbing back in with more than a few shopping bags in the front seat hours later that you realized you didn’t have to go back unless you wanted to.

“Hello,” said Dean quietly, looking at you when you came in the front door. He was at a computer, frowning at the screen. “Do you want help with those?”

“No,” you said, taking them upstairs. You showered and dressed yourself in the new clothes, pouting at the bathroom mirror.

“Hey uh, some packages came while you were out. I guessed the size. If it doesn’t fit let me know,” he said, a box being set down in front of your bedroom door. “It’s for the job.”

You listened as he left, peeking your head outside a moment later. The first box you opened had a very nice pair of black heels you were sure cost a pretty penny. The second had a white box, a very sleek black gown inside that belonged to some rich person, definitely not you. Still you tried it on, the thigh slit high but hiding enough. You slipped on the heels and walked into the bathroom.

It’s for the job.

“If the jobs is to distract men, this’ll do the trick,” you mumbled, spinning around. It was tight, showing off curves and skin but elegant. You changed back into jeans and a flannel, hanging the dress up in the closet and putting the shoes away with it. You headed downstairs to catch Dean staring out the front window. “The clothes fit good.”

“That’s good,” he said, turning to face you.

“You have nice taste,” you said.

“It’s black tie only so I couldn’t screw up the color at least,” he said with a half smirk.

“You need me to do what exactly?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.

“We can start all that tomorrow,” he said.

“According to you, we have less than two weeks. We can start today,” you said, crossing your arms. “If you finished your homework earlier that is.”

“It’s on the printer,” he said, waving for you to follow. You went to a different part of the first floor, smiling at the room full of bookshelves, a few pictures scattered around. “I don’t look the type but I like reading.”

“Me too,” you said, Dean going to a printer on a desk, pulling off a few sheets.

“Well here’s some more for you,” he said, handing the sheets over.

“Alright,” you said, folding them in half. “Let’s talk about this job though.”

“I don’t understand why you came back today,” he said, scratching his head.

“It’s not fun being the one confused all the time is it,” you said.

“If we’re going to do this, you should change into something you don’t mind getting sweaty,” he said. You tilted your head but he walked away, heading upstairs. You looked around, spotting a picture on a shelf. Dean wasn’t in it but there were two bundles of blankets, a set of mischievous eyes peeking out from under them.

You looked at the papers in your hand, eventually finding a safe spot for them in your room, changing into a loose pair of shorts and tank. Dean had seemed to vanish from the house though.

“Dean?” you shouted, stepping onto the deck outside.

“Over here!” he called from the garage. You walked over, eyes drawn to the black car sitting inside.

“I like you car,” you said.

“Me too. Not exactly baby friendly though. When they get big...actually forget it. You changed. Good,” he said. He was in a pair of sweats, curling your finger to follow him to the back of the garage. He opened a door and you saw a work out room, a few boxes against the wall.

“What exactly is happening?” you asked.

“You remember the zip tie trick I showed you? I want to show you a few more things in case you need them,” he said. “If you want to stop and take a break just say so.”

“Come on, Y/N. You picked everything else up easy. You can get this one too,” said Dean.

“I want to stop,” you said. Dean immediately backed off. “I need some air.”

You went outside, wandering to his backyard. It was quite peaceful and you imagined when he was worried about things like landscaping, it looked nice.

“We can stop for the day,” he said. “I showed you a lot. It’s dinner time anyways.”

“Can I cook?” you asked.

“Sure,” said Dean. “Knock your socks off.”

“This is delicious,” he said, shoveling his dinner in his mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you said, scooping the leftovers into a container. Dean nodded and swallowed, slowing down as he ate.

“Thanks for cooking,” he said when he finished.

“You’re welcome,” you said, clearing away the plates, putting them in the dishwasher.

“Why are you doing chores?” he asked.

“It makes me feel normal,” you said with a shrug. “How are you holding up?”

“No offense but who cares how I’m doing,” he said.

“I can think of two very small short people that do,” you said. Dean rolled his eyes, narrowing them at you when you simply kept staring. “I’m going to bed.”

You went upstairs with a huff, grabbing his confession from behind the bed frame and flipping to the first page.

I know you asked for a confession of every bad thing I’ve done so here goes nothing.

I pushed my little brother when I was six and he was two because he stole my toy car. He hit his head. He was okay but that’s the first time I remember feeling that pit in my stomach open up.

When I was ten, I got in a fight at school. I broke the other kids nose. He started to get made fun of because of it. I teepeed a house when I was 16.

I’ve snuck out on women in the middle of the night. I’ve left shitty tips. I siphoned gas once from a car in a parking lot.

I don’t understand fully why I am the way I am. Part of it I know was because of how I was raised. I was more soldier than son. I raised my brother for the most part. I never really got to grow up like most people. It just happened all at once and the responsibility never went away. Part of it was my own experiences which the soldier part probably plays into why I joined the military. The other part is just the thing that’s always been broken. I’m not sure what it is but it’s always there. It’s not an excuse. It’s just who I am. I think it’s why I wanted to be a dad, to try and fix it. The past four months were probably the happiest I’ve been in a very long time.

I could keep listing little things that dig at me but that’s not what you want to know or the point of this.

I held up the bank in Tulsa on Jefferson street three weeks ago. I stole safety deposit box 1227 from St. Louis National bank two weeks ago. I hit a man with a car in Albuquerque. He was a killer but that doesn’t excuse it. He’s in a coma last I heard.

I kidnapped a woman and terrorized her. I hit her. I drugged her. I manipulated her. I killed four men. Three wanted to hurt her, one wanted to hurt and then kill her. I didn’t let her go after that because I was scared. She never realized that if she ran, I wouldn’t stop her. Despite what I said, I would have let her go.

But I tricked her and screwed with her head to scare her and she stayed.

I never put a “tracker” in her back. I cut it. She figured that out when she dug her fingers in to rip it out. The ankle bracelet was a fake. A box with lights was all. She figured that one out too I’m pretty sure.

But she believed me when I told her those things because I messed with her head over and over until I saw her have a moment of panic and she didn’t know what to do.

I forced her to stay because I thought she could help. Yet I’m only risking her getting hurt by asking for help I don’t deserve.

I’m going to steal something again at a party. It’s going to happen. I’ll have done that too.

When the kids are back, I’ll turn myself in. It’s what I deserve.

You didn’t turn to the last page, instead wadding the papers up and chucking them across the room.

“Dean...I hate him!” you said, a knock at your door snapping your mouth shut. “What!”

“Never mind,” he mumbled. You flung the door open before he could move away. “I was going to say I’ll be gone when you wake up tomorrow. I need to run some errands.”

“I hate you,” you said, poking him in the chest. “I’m supposed to hate you.”

“I believe we’ve already established this,” he said, backing up a step, going straight against the other door. “Y/N if you’re going to kick my ass, at least don’t do it near the top of the stairs.”

You shoved him backwards into the bedroom, Dean nearly tripling over a stuffed dog.

“I hate you,” you said again, Dean holding up his hands until he was up against a wall.

“That’s okay,” he said.

“Then why do I want to help you?” you asked.

“You care about kids,” he said.

“Yeah but I want to help you, you specifically and that is a whole load of messed up,” you said.

“You don’t have like Stockholm-“

“Of course not you idiot,” you said, stomping your foot. “I hate you and I will never forgive you and I will be happy when you are behind bars.”

“Okay?” he asked. “I don’t know what the right answer is here.”

“If you weren’t an asshole and took me…somebody else would have. I wouldn’t be alive. I’m not stupid. You were acting from the second I met you. If you hadn’t gotten that phone call about the new job, what would you have done with me?” you asked.

“Get you somewhere safe. Get you to a cop, in witness protection. Go deal with the guy when I got the time,” he said.

“So save my life basically. Be a good guy. Do you see why it’s a little hard for me to not hate you with every fiber of my being? Trust me, I hate you with a lot of them,” you said.

“But not all of them and that freaks you out,” he said. “You hate me like 99% of the way.”

“Exactly,” you said, balling your fists up.

“Well you’re the one in charge now. You tell me what you want me to do to get you there,” he said.

“Why do you want me to hate you?” you asked.

“What do you want me to do!” he said, dropping his hands. “I don’t-“

“Dean!” you shouted at him. He lifted his head up, not realizing he’d slowly been lowering it as you spoke.

“You wanted to overwhelm me,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall.

“Yup,” you said, walking around, picking up the stray toys.

“Why?” he asked.

“You wanted to test my acting abilities earlier,” you said. “It’s easier to test them if you don’t know I’m acting.”

“I should have thought of that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re good. I’m sure you could pretend at this job we have and you’ll be just fine.”

“Good,” you said, setting the toys down in a crib before you went for the door. “Dean.”

“You hate me,” he said. “That part wasn’t an act.”

“I’m not a parent, Dean. But I well and truly believe you would do anything for your kids,” you said. “If you don’t do this job, you don’t get them back. You gave me a lot of choices Dean so it always felt like my decision. I’m going to give you a choice, Dean. Knowing what you do now, after you got that phone call, would you change anything you did? Or would you have done everything the same?”

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” he said without skipping a beat.

“That’s the right answer by the way,” you said.

“You’d want me to do all that to you again?” he asked.

“Dean, you are extremely bad at hiding your guilt now that it’s out in the open. It doesn’t take a genius to see that. But even though you know you’re going to feel guilty, know you’re going to turn yourself in, know that you are going to still lose your kids just in a different way, you would change nothing,” you said.

“And?” he asked dryly.

“You would do anything you could. You are doing anything you can. No one on this planet is ever going to be able to hate you more than you, Dean,” you said.

“That’s accurate,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m changing our arrangement,” you said.

“Your new ID is ready in just a couple days,” he said.

“I’m going to the police. Right now,” you said, leaving the room, hoping this went the way you were planning. You got two steps down the stairs when Dean’s hand caught your shoulder.

“I swear I will turn myself in for everything I did, I swear. Please don’t do this, not yet,” he said.

“I decided it’s not my problem,” you said, making your way down the rest of the stairs. You were slow to get over to your shoes by the door, grunting when all of Dean’s weight hit you. You slammed down onto the wood floors, Dean pinning you under his weight.

“You said I could leave,” you said, Dean staring down at you.

“If you tell the police, he’ll find out and those two are gone forever,” he said, eyes pleading with you.

“Not my problem,” you said again, Dean ducking his head down. You squirmed out from under him, yelping when he grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the ground. “Take your best shot. Come on. It is your kids we’re talking about. If I go, you’ll never see them again.”

He yanked hard on your leg, dragging you behind him until he dumped you by the wall next to the kitchen. You went to stand when he shoved you down.

“Do not move,” he gritted out. He walked into the kitchen, putting the kitchen island between you but he could still watch everything you did. “I know what you’re doing and it is a very dangerous game you’re playing, Y/N,” said Dean, taking a deep breath.

“How far are you willing to go?” you asked, standing up, brushing yourself off. “How far, Dean?”

“I get it,” he said, his anger evaporating like that, his face turning red for entirely different reasons. “I hurt you so you want to hurt me. But those two never did anything to you. It’s not their fault they got stuck with me.”

“Wait, Dean,” you said, Dean moving to the family room, sitting on the couch. “Dean...I wanted to know how far you’d really go. I...I wasn’t actually going to the police. I wouldn’t risk your kids like that.”

“You said-”

“I’m not a monster, Dean. I would never harm a child or put them in danger. Hell, I don’t even know these kids and I’m going to risk my neck for them. You could be the biggest dickhead in the world and I’d still help your kids,” you said.

“Are you done with the head games then because I am super confused,” said Dean, running his hands over his face, settling on resting his head in them.

“I really do want to change our arrangement,” you said, sitting down on the couch, playing with a thread on a pillow. “I will help you, you’ll give me my new identity and we’ll go our separate ways. That’s all.”

“You said you’d make sure the little guys ended up with a good family,” he said, lifting his head up, frowning at you.

“Seems to me like they’ve got a dad that’d do anything in the world for them and they aren’t even his flesh and blood,” you said, turning your head to look at him. “This is a warm house, I can tell. It was happy before this happened. Maybe dad wasn’t all the way happy but he adored those two and they were helping him. Even when I pushed him, dad didn’t snap and hurt me...because I think that dad has done some bad things but that doesn’t make him a bad person.”

“Well you’re wrong. I am,” he said.

“I read your confession,” you said. “Yes, you did bad things. But I’m willing to look past that.”

“I thought you hated me,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m warming up to you,” you said.

“I didn’t know we were such good friends,” he half-scoffed. “I’m turning myself in.”

“For what? You can’t have kidnapped me if everyone already thinks I’m dead,” you said.

“I…” he said, biting his bottom lip, gnawing on it until it was red and swollen. “I’ll admit to tampering with the bodies. It’s no big deal.”

“Okay…” you said holding up your hands. “I mean, that’s not going to really work when I tell my side of things if you end up doing all that but you do you.”

“First you want me to confess. Now you don’t want me to confess. Make up your mind,” he said.

“You did confess. To me,” you said.

“Who made you the judge of me?” he asked.

“You did. I’m in charge after all,” you said. Dean sighed, throwing his hands up. “You could probably do with talking about some of your problems, Dean. Most people get over trivial things they did when they were six.”

“I don’t,” he said. “I deserve to go to prison.”

“I’m not so sure,” you said.

“When this is done, I’m going to prison,” he said.

“No,” you said.

“Why the hell not?” asked Dean.

“Because I’d be dead if you hadn’t taken my kidnapping job. I’d probably be asking for it if I wasn’t already. But you saved me, a stranger, because it’s the right thing to do. In my head the right thing to do is shove aside our history, get your kids back and let them grow up with a father. But you will never take another side job or anything like this ever again. You work as a mechanic, you play with your kids, send them to school and watch them grow up. That is our new arrangement,” you said, puffing out your chest. “Understand?”

“Yes,” he said, closing his eyes, sliding down the couch.

“Well I’m going to bed for good this time,” you said, standing up with a sigh. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, not moving an inch by the time you were upstairs.

“Hi,” you yawned, walking into the kitchen close to noon the next day. “I slept late.”

“You needed it,” he said, chopping up an apple. “I bought some fresh food this morning.”

“My stomach appreciates that,” you said, reaching over and taking a slice. Dean moved onto the next, lifting his head at you. “So, we got about a week before this party right? What’s my job? Be a distraction so you can slip away at some point?”

“You’re supposed-” he hissed, dropping the knife, squeezing his wrist. You saw the blood staining his shirt sleeve already, drops running down his hand onto the counter.

“Do not move,” you said, hopping off the counter and rushing around. You reached to his pants and undid his belt, Dean trying not to drip blood on you as you worked. When it was off you put it just above where his hand was, sticking a wooden spoon in the tourniquet to tighten it. You peeled Dean’s hand away, the blood slowing but he cut his wrist deep. “You need a hospital. Now.”

“County is twenty minutes away,” said Dean.

“Hold this,” you said, pressing his hand against the stick. “I’ll drive.”

“Miss?” asked a doctor, tapping you on the shoulder of the waiting room an hour later. “You came in with Dean Winchester?”

“Is he okay?” you asked.

“He’ll be perfectly fine. He says the cut was accidental and that you witnessed it,” he said.

“That’s right. He was slicing apples and we were talking and he wasn’t watching what he was doing,” you said. “It’s my fault.”

“We just have to make sure with that kind of injury that it was an accident. He needs to stay on his antibiotic and change his bandage often the first few days but he can be discharged any time now,” he said. You nodded, Dean walking around a corner a few minutes later, holding a small bag with his prescription.

“Ready to go home?” you asked, Dean nodding, not saying a word until you were in the car.

“The tourniquet stopped the blood,” he said.

“You weren’t going to die from that cut, Dean,” you said. “Not in twenty minutes.”

“I could have,” he said.

“You didn’t...you didn’t do that on purpose, did you?” you asked. Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I mean, last night we sort of came to the conclusion that you saved my life and now, I saved your life and you think that makes us even and I’ll turn you in now.”

“Obviously that plan didn’t work,” he said.

“Fuck, Dean. I could have left you for dead,” you said, glancing over at him. “Did that ever cross your mind? What about the kids then?”

“No,” he said. “Did...did you think about not…”

“You’re grounded,” you said, holding up your chin. “You don’t leave that house without permission. Not until I know you won’t do something stupid again.”

“Grounded? Good luck with that,” he said. You narrowed your eyes but drove back to his house in silence, snatching his prescription out of his lap as soon as you parked. “Hey! I need that.”

“You need to get your head on straight. Have a me day. Take a bath. Eat ice cream. Cry your eyes out watching a chick flick. Do something to get your game face on. We both need to be ready for this party and I’m not a super soldier. I can’t do this on my own,” you said.

“You’re insufferable,” he groaned, making one last effort at grabbing the bag, thankfully still a bit weak from the blood loss. “Fine. I’m grounded.”

“Good boy,” you said, stepping out of the truck, waving him inside and upstairs. “I’ll clean up while you rest.”

“I don’t need to rest, Y/N,” he said.

“Dean…” you said, putting your hands on your hips.

“Alright, I’m going,” he grumbled, slamming his bedroom door shut.

“Dean?” you asked, knocking on his bedroom door a while later. “I made dinner.”

You got no answer and slowly pushed it open, Dean passed out on bed. You spotted blue and pink onesies in a laundry basket on the floor, gaze drifting back to Dean.

“I wish I could hate you. I wish I didn’t trust you. I wish you were an asshole who was evil when it came down to it. But you’re just a scared, lonely man that’s keeping himself pieced together at the threads aren’t you? You just want your babies back, that’s it. So I’m sorry that I can’t hate you like you want,” you said quietly.

“I wish you could hate me too,” he said suddenly, shifting around, turning his head back over his shoulder at you.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you said, looking away shyly. Dean rolled over in bed and walked in front of you.

“Okay. We both think I deserve to go to prison but you’re not going to let that happen because you think I’m more good than bad. I still think I should be punished, Y/N,” he said.

“You’re doing plenty of that yourself as I suspect you will for the rest of your life,” you said, cocking your head. “I think the punishment department is covered.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, shoving his wallet in his back pocket. “I’m going out tonight.”

“No, you aren’t,” you said. He walked past you, stopping when you reached up and grabbed his shirt collar. “You’re going to do something stupid again. Are you really going to risk something bad happening? Risk yours kids?”

“I can go pick a bar fight and live through it,” he said. You let go of his shirt, Dean walking down the hall when you kicked the back of his knee, forcing him down. “Ow!”

“You don’t know what’ll happen in a bar fight,” you said, Dean shoving you away when he tried to get up, getting a shove down from you as you straddled his torso. “Stop it, Dean.”

“Get off of me. I’ve been in a fight before. I can handle it,” he said, trying to get up, hissing when you grabbed his bad wrist. “Y/N. Get off. Now.”

“Fine,” you said, standing up and back into his room, grabbing a belt from his dresser. He was just about back on his feet in the hall when you pinned him down again, Dean not putting up much of a fight as you secured his hands behind him.

“You’re going to regret this,” he said, nearly falling down when you yanked him to his feet, the lack of blood still affecting him. You put him on his bed, Dean shouting at you when you were pulling his door closed. “Hey!”

“I need a drink.”

“So…” you said, pushing open the door an hour later after Dean had shouted himself hoarse. “Did you get that out of your system?”

“Can you take the belt off?” he gritted out. “Please.”

“When you’re ready to be a logical and rational adult again I can,” you said.

“You’re the one that attacked me,” he said.

“No. This would be attacking you,” you said, walking over, holding up a fist. You moved it down fast, Dean scrunching up his face but you held it back. “Dean. I’m not going to hit you, even though you want me to. But you and me...we need to figure this out. We can’t have days like today again. You need to get me ready for the party so we can bring home Noah and Nora. I can’t do it alone. No more pity parties. No more punishment. No more games. We’re even. I help you and then I get my new life. That’s all there is to it.”

“I don’t understand you,” he said, sitting up some, trying to not to go too fast. “I-”

“I went down stairs. It seems like you left a few papers on the printer...and your computer unlocked and I may have peaked at your first draft that had a bit more detail than the one I got,” you said, Dean staring ahead at the otherside of the room. “You carry so much crap already, stuff you don’t have to. I don’t want this to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. You can’t break now. People depend on you. Besides, it’s not good to carry around anger. I see what it does to good people.”

“So you’re forgiving me?” he asked.

“I’m letting it go. You should too. Plus, you owe for me the rest of your life. You might come in handy down the road,” you said.

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’ll try. Now can I get out of these? My bandage needs to be changed.”

“You actually couldn’t get out?” you asked. “I thought you were a super soldier.”

“I’m not superman,” he said, sighing when you moved the belt away.

“Well come downstairs. I made dinner and you’re supposed to eat something with your medicine,” you said.

“Our relationship is so fucking weird,” he said.

“Uh huh. Now come on before it gets cold.”

Dean was better the next morning. You felt a part of you genuinely start to feel normal and let go which made you feel lighter again.

Then Dean was slapping an envelope down in your lap after lunch.

“Nice to meet you Ms. Y/N Hunter,” he said. “Birth certificate, passport, tax records, job history, credit score. Here’s your new life.”

“Thanks,” you said, picking the envelope up but you pushed it aside, Dean glancing at you as he moved around to the other couch. “What?”

“When you went on my computer last night, you poked around some news articles about you, about your boyfriend, family…” said Dean. “I did some digging myself and I’m wondering, how’d a good apple wind up with that rotten bunch?”

“I have bad luck,” you said, curling into a corner of the couch.

“You’re very kind. I’m like 85% positive you’re nuts underneath that calm demeanor but you’re nice,” he said. You twitched up your lip, Dean giving you a smile. “I know you haven’t really forgiven me, Y/N. I don’t expect you to. We don’t have to be so antagonistic with each other though. You said we should try, right?”

“I’m working on the letting it go part. Where’s the party? We should focus on that,” you said, finding it easier to discuss the job than make other kinds of small chit chat.

Dean gave more information about the details of what you had to do which was mostly comforting and a bit frightening.

The fact he needed you to act as a date didn’t surprise you. You could pretend and do the whole schtick without too much trouble. But he needed you to get a group of people away from a door for a few minutes so he could sneak in.

“How am I supposed to do that?” you asked.

“How is an attractive woman who will be wearing a tight and sexy dress distract the attention of three men? How do you think? You flirt. There should be a billiards room right around the corner. Get the guys in to play a round and I’ll be done before you even know it,” he said.

“I can’t flirt with rich guys,” you said. “I’m bad enough at doing it with average Joe’s. Look at my ex or the ex before that. I’m going to get us both caught.”

“We’ll practice,” he said, walking over to his kitchen counter, grabbing a glass of water and taking a seat. “This is a bar. Try to flirt with me.”

“Dean, it’s not the same if you know,” you said.

“Just do it,” he said, turning on his stool slightly. You grumbled and took a seat one down from him. You looked in his direction but he went back to staring at his glass, your gaze back up on him. “Don’t stare so long unless you plan on making a comment.”

“This is ridiculous,” you said.

“Please try,” he said. You stood up and walked to the front door, rolling your eyes before you went back. This time you barely gave him a second glance, toying with rubbing your thumb over the rim of the glass. You felt his gaze on you but you didn’t turn, instead giving the glass a smile.

“Yes?” you asked, waiting a beat to turn your head.

“See? You can do this, Y/N. Just relax and they’ll come crawling to you,” he said. “Be confident. Men are attracted to that.”

“Not in my experiences,” you mumbled. You went to stand, Dean catching your wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He’d never apologized before. He said it a hundred other ways but never had he actually apologized.

“It’s...okay. You still owe me for the rest of your life,” you said.

“Yes mam’,” he said, releasing you.

“So what do you do for fun around here? We both look like we could use some.”

“You took me to mini golf?” you asked, Dean shrugging.

“You fell asleep when I turned on golf at home,” he said.

“You kidnapped me the day before. I was a little tired,” you said.

“If you don’t like golf, that’s okay,” he said, holding up his hands. “But everyone loves mini-golf. Plus it’s nice out.”

“Just play ball, Winchester,” you said, shaking your head. You weren’t all that into it until Dean got competitive, egging you on into going for the trick shot at the end.

“Come on. If you go for it, you’re guaranteed a win,” he said.

“If I miss I’m guaranteed a loss,” you said.

“What? You a scaredy cat?” he teased. You turned around to face him, whacking at the ball randomly, Dean cocking his head for a split moment, eyes going wide. “No.”

“Did it go in?” you asked, turning around with a smile. The ball was near the hole but not in it. Dean grabbed your arm, bringing you in close.

“I want you to stay behind me and don’t speak,” he said. You didn’t have the chance to ask what was going on before he was grabbing the balls and clubs, returning them quickly and heading over to a black car in the parking lot.

“Dean. I didn’t realize you had time for dating,” said a man, walking around from the other side.

“Job partner actually,” said Dean.

“Oh. So you are able to do it? You didn’t sound so sure a few days ago,” said the man.

“I made it work. Why are you here unless you’ve had a change of heart which I seriously doubt,” said Dean.

“Just checking in that the job was still on,” said the man.

“It is,” said Dean.

“You could do with being a tad more grateful,” said the man. Dean swallowed hard, biting down a comment.

“Thank you,” gritted our Dean, getting a rough pat on his cheek.

“Always such a good boy,” said the man, turning his attention to you. “Are you freelance?”

“This isn’t her normal gig,” said Dean, the man seeming to ignore you after that. “Are we done?”

“Stopped begging to see if they’re okay? Dean, that’s cold,” he said.

“Last time I did, you only fed them once that day,” growled Dean.

“You’re lucky I-“

“They are infants!” shouted Dean. You grabbed his hand, giving the man a hard look.

“And?” he asked you.

“An emotionally compromised asset in the field is not a good thing I’m sure you understand. Feed the kids regularly and Dean here is less likely to screw up and then you get what you want, I get what I want, and we all go home happy,” you said.

“See Dean? Relax. You could have used a bit more training it seems,” said the man, glancing you over. “Ex-CIA?”

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” you said, dragging Dean with you back to his car. He didn’t make a peep the whole way home. When you exited the car he took a deep breath. “If you’re gonna throw up, I’d aim over in that direction.”

“I lost it. I lost it and he said the next time I lost it...but you calmed him down and they’re okay tonight because of you,” said Dean.

“To be honest, I think I heard that in a movie once,” you said. “Did that guy really do that?”

“He said he did. I can’t know for sure but I can’t risk it. They need formula and naps and baths and I don’t know if they’re being looked after right.”

“Have you seen them at all?” you asked.

“A video. It was when you were having tons of fun in your barrel,” said Dean. “They looked okay and clean but they were both grumpy and upset. How am I supposed to wait another week?”

“You’ll get through it. We’ll get through it, okay?” you said, rubbing a hand up and down his back, Dean tensing at the touch.

“Why-“

“I might go kidnap someone too if my kids were stuck with a creep like that guy was,” you said. “You can and will get through this. I promise.”

One Week Later

“How do I look?” asked Dean, turning around in his tux. “I did the tie right?”

“Yeah,” you said, Dean glancing down at you once.

“The dress looks nice,” he said.

“Deep breaths, Dean,” you said. “We go in, mingle, have a drink, you grab the thing, we go. In a few hours, the kids are yours.”

“Okay,” he said, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Just a few more hours.”

When he was calmer, you left the motel room you were using as a pit stop after the few hour drive earlier. By the time he drove to the nice estate the party was at, Dean showed no signs that anything was wrong.

Walking in with Dean, you nearly dropped your jaw. Fancy people in tuxedos and dresses drinking wine and champagne...there was no way you could pull this off.

“Relax,” said Dean, squeezing your hand. “I’ve seen you handle worse. Now go take the long way around to the bar. Show off.”

He patted your bottom, giving you a smirk as he left you. You tried to do what he said, lifting your chin as you took slow, graceful steps around the room, acting like you were enjoying taking in the decor.

“Champagne?” asked a waiter, offering a tray.

“No thanks. I’ll grab something at the bar,” you said, friendly but moving on quickly. You paused near the room Dean had to sneak into later, looking over the painting outside it.

“Scotch?” asked a male voice. You turned around, no waiter in sight. He was about Dean’s height, a slimmer build, likely a business man of some kind. “Not too many women turn down free champagne at these kinds of things.”

“I ain’t most women, sweetie,” you said, taking the drink from his hand and sauntering out in one swift go, feeling his eyes on your back the whole time.

Five minutes later you’d made your way back to Dean, catching a few looks as you went.

“You sure know how to put on a show,” he said. You set down the glass of untasted scotch, ordering a shot of whiskey you gulped down. “Better keep moving. Don’t want to settle for too long.”

“I’ll see you in an hour,” you said. “Come get me?”

“I got your back.”

“No silly. You’re stripes, I’m solids,” you teased the man you believed was named Dylan or Darren or something like that.

“We’re on the same team! We might have to cut this one off fellas,” he said, giving your hip a squeeze. You giggled but hoped Dean showed up soon, the other two men not seeming to care that Dylan was a little handsy with you despite your shrugs away.

You stood there, jumping up and down when he sunk the easy shot, the other two chuckling at you.

“There you are,” you heard Dean say behind you, a silent breath of relief leaving you. “She hasn’t given away the company yet has she?”

“No, no,” said one of them. “This one’s quite the giggly one, isn’t she?”

“Only when she drinks too much,” said Dean, cocking his head at you. “Come on you. Let’s get you some air so you can come back to your new friends in a minute.”

You walked over slowly into Dean’s side, wrapping your arms around him.

“Don’t go anywhere. When I come back, we’re gonna have some fun,” you said to the men, slapping Dean’s bottom, giggling when he jumped.

“We’ll be right back,” said Dean with a smile, walking with you back towards the front of the house. “Seriously? You slapped me on the ass.”

“You did it first,” you said with a shrug. “Now get me the hell out of here please.”

“A gave a gentle tap, missy. I think I’m going to have your handprint on my right cheek for a week,” he said, rubbing his bottom. You laughed, for the first time in a while, Dean pausing. “We should get going. I got a feeling those guys are going to come looking for you sooner rather than later.”

You’d gone back and changed into some normal clothes at the motel, then going to a rundown lumber mill on the edge of that town for the trade. You found a railing to sit up on near the truck, swinging your legs while Dean paced back and forth on the dirt road.

He froze when you both heard a pair of cars approach and then park nearby, men in black climbing out, the one from the mini golf the last to exit.

“Where-“

“Patience, Dean,” said the man, waving at someone, a pair of doors opening in the back. You watched as two baby carriers were brought out, tiny mumbles and gurgles coming from inside them. “Now, I assume you got it?”

“Yes,” said Dean.

“Then give it over,” he said. Dean fished into his jacket pocket, flicking over the small black box.

“Always does as told,” said the man, pulling back the top of the carriers, two small, grumpy babies looking back, eyes flickering over to Dean and lighting up. Dean didn’t relax but you saw some of the weight come off his shoulders. The man waved again, someone picking up the carriers and heading back for the car.

The car they came in.

“Hey! That wasn’t the deal!” barked Dean, hands in fists as he started to barge over. You hopped off the railing, Dean shoved back by the time you got over there. “You said-“

“Why would I give them back? You’ll do anything I want. I own you. This visitation was because you earned it,” he said. “You’ll get more if you do as told.”

“You can’t-“

“Watch me,” he said.

“Give him the damn kids back,” you growled out, shoving Dean aside.

“Or what?” asked the man. You stepped up to him, giving him a smile.

“Please honor the terms of your deal,” you said. “Or you will find out exactly what I am capable of.”

The man stared you down, eventually sighing.

“Give him back the kids,” he said, lifting his chin at you. The second Dean had them in his arms he was walking away, even if you knew he was asking for you to get hell out of there. “Any other demands?”

“You pay well?” you asked.

“Very,” he said. “Interested?”

“I’ll give you a call,” you said. “I need a vacation after this one first.”

“I’ll be waiting for it,” he said, turning to go. You walked quickly over to the truck, Dean gunning it out of there before you had your seatbelt on.

“Drive,” you said. “Quickly.”

“What’d you do?” asked Dean, one of the babies starting to cry. “It’s okay. Daddy’s taking you guys to the hospital and then we’re going home. Shh. Y/N, what did you do?”

“Something bad,” you said, closing your eyes. “But you never have to worry ever again.”

“Hey,” said Dean, shaking your shoulder in the empty waiting room, stirring you awake. There was a giggling baby tucked in each of his arms, giving him a big smile. “You mind helping grab one of these rugrats?”

“Are they both okay?” you asked as you stood.

“Yeah, mostly. They have bad diaper rash and drank a whole bottle of formula each just now. But doc said they’re fine,” he said, handing off Noah to you. “This is Y/N, Noah, and we owe her big time.”

The baby tilted his head at you before resting his head on your shoulder, snoring lightly.

“They really are adorable,” you said.

“And we have a long drive home so let’s get back. You left your new identity there,” he said, adjusting Nora as he caught a glimpse of the late night news. “Uh. Y/N. Did...did you do that?”

“Did I frame that guy and his men for my supposed murder and your supposed murder and those other guys and the crimes you committed? Pft. No. Why would I ever do a thing like that?” you said with a shrug.

“But...how?” he asked.

“You know your bloody flannel when you cut your wrist? I may have stolen that,” you said. “And planted it. It wasn’t too hard to tie the crimes to him when he had the merchandise still. Honestly you shouldn’t leave me unsupervised.”

“You framed a psychopath for murder?” he asked.

“I was going to do it regardless but him saying he wasn’t giving back the kids sort of pissed me extra off,” you said with a smile. “One of the highlights of my night.”

“I am so sorry for dragging you into this but a big part of me is sort of glad I did,” said Dean with a big smile. “I wouldn’t have them back if it weren’t for you.”

“Save the sob story for later. I’m tired and you’re driving us all back home tonight, Winchester.”

You stretched when you woke up the next morning, Dean moving around downstairs already from the sound of it. You made your way down, a radio going while Dean cooked over the stove. There were two high chairs pulled up to the counter where stools used to be, the twins kicking their legs in their seats.

“Good morning,” you said, grabbing a pacifier off the floor.

“Morning,” said Dean, sighing and looking at Nora. “Why don’t you like your paci anymore, Nora?”

“Here,” you said, wiping it off and sticking it in Dean’s mouth. He pouted behind it before he pulled it out. You took it and washed it off in the sink, sticking it back in Nora’s mouth as she happily sucked.

“How’d that work?” he asked, throwing some scrambled eggs on a few plates for you both.

“Just took a guess really. It’s a good look for you though,” you said, grabbing some ketchup from the fridge.

“Cute,” he said, giving his kids big smiles as they played with a few soft toys. “Are you sure you don’t want me to turn myself in?”

“It’d be a bit cruel at this point,” you said, sitting on top of his counter while you ate.

“I still don’t understand you,” he said.

“There’s the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. the dirt in your backyard has more self worth than you,” you said.

“What can I say? We’re both strange,” he said, turning his attention back to watching the twins.

“So...when are you going back to work?” you asked.

“Maybe next week. I could care less about being away from either one of these guys right now,” he said. “Have you figured out a plan yet? You can sort of do whatever you want now.”

“I was hoping I could crash here while I figure that out,” you said.

“Sure. You’re always welcome and for however long you want. I owe you everything and I was a dick and I can never fix what happened but literally anything you ever need, I’m there,” he said.

“Good because I’m asking for my second favor now,” you said. “I would like you to try talking to someone.”

“Therapy?” he said, your head nodding.

“Yup,” you said. “Try it once. For me and for you.”

“I don’t want to but I will go. Once,” he said, holding up a finger. “I was expecting more like being your personal slave for the rest of eternity you know.”

“I’m sure I’ll come up with something for you. First we start with this.”

Two Months Later

“Who’s that?” you said, Noah taking two steps before he plopped down on the ground. “Is Daddy home?”

“Yes I am,” he said, kicking off his boots, picking Noah up. “Daddy had a break through according to Dr. Nelson.”

“Sounds exciting,” you said. “Want to share the news with the rest of the class?”

“I invited my brother Sam to come visit,” he said, your face lighting up. “We haven’t talked in a long time. It was good.”

“That��s great, Dean,” you said, scooting around to a high chair, grabbing a box of cheerios Nora was working on knocking onto the floor. “Nora. Always a troublemaker.”

“How were they today? I see the house is still standing,” said Dean, setting Noah down in his chair, taking the box and dumping a few cheerios on his plastic tray.

“Good. I think I like this nanny thing,” you said.

“You thinking you want to do that full time?” he asked.

“I don’t want to go back to an office job. This is a small town though. I don’t think there’s much of a market for nannies,” you said.

“I’d recommend you. There’s nothing that says you have to stay here. Oregon’s not got much going on and Seattle’s not that far. Maybe you’d like it there? You like rainy days anyways,” he said, washing up in the sink.

“It’s expensive though,” you said.

“I’d cover you,” he said.

“I’ve overstayed my welcome, haven’t I,” you said.

“Where’d you get that idea from?” he asked.

“You keep asking when I’m moving out, helping set up interviews around town,” you said with a shrug.

“You’ve been stuck with my sorry ass the past two and half months,” he said.

“You needed to get back to work and you were too paranoid to let anyone watch the twins but me,” you said.

“I’m better now,” he said. “You don’t have to stay.”

“Fine. I’ll leave,” you said. You went upstairs, tossing your things in a pair of duffel bags, dumping them by the front door while you tied up your boots.

“If you ever need-”

“Yeah, I got it Dean. Later,” you said, grabbing the bags, fishing your car keys out of your pocket. You dumped the bags in the trunk and were on the highway within fifteen minutes.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” said a voice at the bar, two seats down. You turned your head, Dean giving you a sad smile. “Hey.”

“How’d you find me,” you said, playing with the straw in your drink. You weren’t even sure of the name of the dive bar you’d wound up in, somewhere in the next town over.

“Your GPS is on your phone,” he said, pursing his lips. He slid over a seat once he got his drink, taking a sip. “I was worried about you.”

“Why do you care?” you asked, throwing back your drink, ordering another on Dean.

“Well...if your ass isn’t good, then my ass isn’t good,” he said.

“I thought we agreed never to talk about those first two days,” you said, gulping half the new drink down in one go.

“We did. I’ve also come to realize something with Dr. Nelson,” he said. “I like you. I enjoy your company but, I think he called it your character or something like that, I like who you are. You shoved things aside, things you had a right to be mad and angry about. But you did it to help. He says you must be a very strong person to be able to do that. He doesn’t know the specifics but he says you’ve been very important in my self-esteem crap.”

“So,” you said, continuing to play with your drink, doing anything to keep from looking in his direction.

“I screwed up a lot in your life. The whole thing to be honest. I want you to be happy,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I thought you needed a shove to leave, that for some reason you felt stuck with me. But I get the distinct feeling that I’m the reason you’re sitting in a bar drinking.”

“I’m drinking because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I know that you keep tabs on my family, my ex. I do too and you know the conclusion I came to? You’re better than they are, than they ever were. There’s stuff I’ve never told you, told anyone, Dean. Bad stuff they’ve done to me. I don’t know if I ever will either. I honestly could care less about seeing any of them ever again. Do...do you even know why I was on vacation, Dean?” you asked.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

“I was going to look at houses there. I was going to run away from my life,” you said. “Start over. Imagine my surprise when you offered me a chance to start over two days later.”

“That’s why you jumped on that new identity thing so fast,” he said, running his thumb over his lips, shaking his head. “Wow.”

“Wow what?” you asked.

“You have really shitty luck,” he said. You shook your head, a smile finding it’s way onto your face. “It’s your life, Y/N. Do what you want with it. Just don’t spend it in places like this alone.”

“I know,” you said, Dean rubbing your back.

“Sober up before you drive, sweetheart,” he said.

“Don’t worry about me, Dean,” you said.

“Too late for that,” he said, throwing some money down. “See you around, Y/N.”

One Month Later

“Hi,” said a tall man you’d never seen before answering Dean’s door. You narrowed your eyes, clenching your fists. “Can I help you?”

“Who is it Sammy?” Dean called, walking into view behind him. He paused when he saw you, blinking fast a few times. “Y/N.”

“Hey,” you said, Sam moving aside to let you in, relaxing that something bad hadn’t happened again.

“What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” asked Dean. You nodded, giving Sam a glance.

“I’ll uh, give you two some privacy,” said Sam. Dean shook his head and headed out the front door, pulling it shut behind him, waving you to follow him onto the deck and into a pair of chairs.

“Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you since the bar,” said Dean.

“I forgave you,” you said. “I took some time, I talked to someone. I realized it was okay for me to do that. I wasn’t sticking things in the pro and con column anymore. I just forgave you and that’s finally okay with me. I felt bad that I did before, like something was wrong with me for it but I’m okay with it now.”

“Okay,” he said, a confused look about him.

“I also decided that I did bad things too. I helped steal something. I framed people for murder. You didn’t make me do those things. I did them, it was my own choice. It was always my choice, even if I had shitty options,” you said.

“Yes but you did those things for a good reason. You shouldn’t feel bad about it,” he said. “The bad guys went away and the object was returned. There was no harm done.”

“You did a bad thing for a good reason too,” you said.

“You didn’t come here just to tell me you forgave me,” he said.

“I’d like to be the twins nanny again,” you said. “I’d like us to try and be friends too.”

“If that’s what you want, then I’m okay with that.”

“Hi guys,” you said after moving back to town, hearing the boys come in from their fishing trip a few days later. “Catch anything?”

“Nope,” said Dean, Sam chuckling. “I did manage to hook myself.”

“How does that not surprise me,” you said, wiping off your hands over the sink. “Thing one and thing two are down for a nap. They need a bath later. You guys said you were going out tonight, right?”

“Actually Dean’s going out with you tonight,” said Sam. “On a date.”

“Excuse me?” you said.

“There’s obviously something going on between you two. If Dean’s too shy to ask you out himself, I’ll do it for him,” said Sam with a smirk. Dean simply looked over at you once before ducking his head down, shaking it slightly.

“Sam. Dean and I have a very...different kind of relationship,” you said.

“You mean how your real name is Y/N Y/L/N?” asked Sam, smiling when you looked away. “I recognized your picture from the news. You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I’m Y/N Hunter,” you said. “I get that I look like that other woman a lot.”

“So my brother suddenly has a strange friend that happens to look exactly like a supposed murder victim and he dropped off the face of the planet for two months and that’s just coincidence?” asked Sam.

“Yes,” you said.

“I told him,” said Dean, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I...you know it’s the one thing I can’t talk to Dr. Nelson about. I needed to tell someone.”

“And?” you said, giving Sam your attention.

“I think you’re good for him,” said Sam. “I think he’s good for you too and you should start over from scratch. So, you two going out tonight and leaving me to babysit my niece and nephew or what?”

“Mini-golf. How original of you,” you said at the first hole, Dean rolling his eyes. “I swear you’re more nervous than the first time.”

“I’m doing this to appease my brother, that’s it,” said Dean.

“It’s not because you like me or anything,” you said.

“Nope. You’re not even my type actually,” he said, lifting his head as he took his first shot.

“Oh really?” you said.

“Yup. You’re so not my type it’s quite alarming actually,” he said.

“Well in that case, I find you hideous,” you said.

“You’re disgusting,” said Dean, just missing the hole.

“Your car is stupid,” you said, Dean gasping.

“You’re dead to me,” he said, shaking his head.

“After all we’ve been through?” you said with a fake pout.

“You insulted my Baby. No one messes with Baby,” he said.

“It is a nice car,” you said, taking your turn and getting a hole in one. “How about if I win, I get to drive her?”

“Alright. You’re on.”

“Careful,” said Dean, sighing when you came to a stop outside your apartment building. You just laughed and got out of the car, handing him the keys when he made his way over to the other side. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you said, heading up your front bath when he caught your arm.

“Was this a date?” he asked.

“I thought it was supposed to be,” you said. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” he said. He was fidgeting where he stood, eyes darting around your face, staring at his feet every few seconds.

“I think if there’s something you want to do right now, you should do it and see what happens,” you said, trying to help him along. He stilled before he lifted his head, looking you in the eye once before he pecked a kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry,” he said, turning around and heading back for the car.

“Dean,” you said, giving him a smile when he turned back to you. “Dinner tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll take you out.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, waving goodnight.

“So am I,” he said, smiling more to himself than you. “Before I go, one more thing.”

“What?” you asked.

“Thank you,” he said. “For all of it.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean,” you said with a smile.

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

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