#and she said to the man. runnin the stand

[sun-ea-sports]

A duck walked up to a lemonade stand

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖿 141 𝗁𝗎𝖻𝖻y 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽(𝗌) 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ── .✦

masterlist

── .✦ 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾 ; "𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾."

the golden light of the setting sun painted the small plaza in warm hues as you strolled along, hand in hand with your six-year-old daughter. she was a chatterbox as always, her little voice bubbling with excitement over everything and nothing at once.

john, walking just ahead, paused and turned to face her, tipping his hat back slightly so she could see the seriousness in his blue eyes. “right, love,” he began, his voice low and steady, the tone he used when he wanted her to really listen. “we’re goin’ to play a little game, yeah? if you ever lose me or your mum, you’ve got to stay put—don’t wander, don’t move. we’ll come find you. got it?”

she tilted her head, brows furrowing. “but what if i can’t find you?”

“you don’t find us, sweetheart,” he corrected gently, crouching to her level. “we’ll find you. but only if you stay put. like a statue. no runnin’ off, no matter what. understand?”

she nodded solemnly, her little face a picture of determination. “i’ll stay like a statue!”

john smiled, tapping her chin before standing. “that’s my girl. all right, let’s practice, then.”

with a satisfied nod, he began to walk away. his long strides took him toward one of the shopfronts, and you could see the faint twitch of a smile on his lips as he glanced back briefly under the brim of his hat.

you watched from a nearby bench, amused by your daughter’s dramatic stance, her little legs stock-straight as she stared after him. for a moment, she stayed put, her face scrunched in concentration.

but then—without a sound—she took a step forward.

you tilted your head, leaning forward slightly as you realized what she was doing. step by step, her tiny feet padded behind john, her movements careful and deliberate as if she were sneaking up on him. she kept her eyes on him like a hawk, completely ignoring everything else flitting around nearby.

john, oblivious at first, continued walking, his focus on the shops ahead. but when he slowed and turned to check on her, he froze.

there she was, just a few steps behind him, her little hands clasped in front of her and her face a picture of innocent curiosity.

john’s shoulders stiffened for a moment, then relaxed as he let out a low chuckle, turning fully to face her. his expression was caught somewhere between exasperation and pride.

“my love,” he said, his tone equal parts scolding and affectionate. “what are you doin’? you were supposed to stay put.”

she blinked up at him, her big eyes wide and earnest. “i was followin’ you, daddy!” she said proudly, as if that had been the plan all along.

john sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before crouching down to her level. “you’re not supposed to follow me, sweetheart. the whole point is for you to stay where you are so i can come find you.”

her little face scrunched in thought, clearly processing his words. but then she smiled, cheeks wide and full, and said, “but i found you instead!”

your husband let out a defeated laugh, shaking his head as he reached out to pull her into his arms. “you didn’t exactly follow the rules,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “but I can’t be mad at you for stayin’ close to your old man, can i?”

she giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. “i did good, daddy?”

john sighed again, though there was no hiding the warmth in his voice. “not quite what i was goin’ for, love,” he admitted, holding her close. “but yeah, you still did good. shows you’ve got a sharp little mind, doesn’t it?”

he stood adjusted her on his hip as she beamed with pride. you took that as your cue to step in, walking up to join them with a knowing smile.

“well,” you said teasingly, “i’d say this was a very price family sort of lesson—failed the test but still managed to come out on top.”

john gave you a wry smile, tipping his hat slightly. “she’s got a bit of her mum in her, too. can’t let go of a good plan once it’s in her head.”

you laughed, brushing your fingers through your daughter’s hair as she leaned her head against john’s shoulder. “you’re lucky she’s such a daddy’s girl, or you’d never live this down.”

“lucky?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “that’s the only reason i get away with anything.”

as the three of you began to roam around the place together, you couldn’t help but think that while the lesson may not have gone as planned, the love and pride in john’s eyes made it a success in its own way.

── .✦ 𝗀𝖺𝗓 ; "𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝗇𝗎𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌."

you’d been watching kyle for days, curiosity bubbling as he worked away at something with an intensity usually reserved for his missions. he’d commandeered the dining table, surrounded by scraps of paper, a glue stick, markers, and even a small pile of printed photos. every time you asked what he was up to, he’d just give you a sly smile and say, “you’ll see, love.”

now, as he gently guided your little girl to sit cross-legged in front of him on the living room rug, you stood in the doorway, arms crossed with quiet amusement. whatever he’d been crafting so fervently, it was clearly for her.

“right, sweetheart,” your husband began, his voice warm but serious as he produced what could only be described as a makeshift booklet. it was a little wonky at the edges, with a cover decorated in bright colors and a drawing of a smiling stick figure family labeled us.

“what’s that, daddy?” your daughter asked, her big, curious eyes locked on him.

“this,” he said, holding it up with a little flourish, “is something very important. it’s all about what to do if you ever get lost, yeah? or if you ever need help.”

her little face lit up with interest as he opened the first page. inside, in bold, clear letters, he’d written her full name. next to it was a printed photo of her grinning proudly, and underneath, her age in big, colorful numbers.

“first things first,” he said, tapping the page gently. “what’s your full name?”

she hesitated for a moment, then carefully recited it, stumbling just a little on the middle name.

“that’s my girl!” he praised, ruffling her hair. “now, next page.”

he turned it, revealing a neatly written list of phone numbers—yours, his, and one for emergencies—all accompanied by little drawings to make them easier to remember. your number was next to a doodle of a phone with “mummy” written in bold letters, while his had a little stick figure in a cap labeled “daddy.”

“this one’s mine,” he explained, pointing to his number. “can you say it back to me?”

your daughter scrunched her nose in concentration, repeating the numbers slowly and carefully. she got a few digits wrong at first, and kyle’s patience was infinite as he gently corrected her, coaxing her to try again. when she finally got it right, he beamed so brightly you thought his smile might split his face.

“that’s it!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together softly. “you’re so clever, love. and pretty, too. smart and pretty—how did i get so lucky, eh?”

your daughter giggled, covering her face with her little hands, clearly preening under his praise.

“wait, there’s more,” your husband said, flipping to the next page. it was a hand-drawn map of your neighborhood, with a small printed photo of your house glued to one corner and a bright red “x” marking it. “this is where we live. if anyone ever asks, you tell ‘em, ‘that’s my home.’”

he traced his finger along the path he’d drawn, explaining it step by step as she followed along with wide, fascinated eyes.

stepping closer, you leaned on the edge of the couch, watching them with your heart melting into a puddle. “you’ve really outdone yourself, kyle.”

he glanced up at you, sheepish but clearly proud. “eeah, well, i just wanted to make sure she’s prepared, you know? can’t be too careful these days.”

“and the drawings? the photos?” you teased lightly, gesturing to the colorful booklet.

“thought it’d make it more fun for her,” he admitted with a shrug. “seems to be workin’, yeah?”

your daughter nodded enthusiastically, clutching the booklet like it was her most prized possession. “can we do more, daddy?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“course we can, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice soft as he cupped her round cheeks. “you’re already doin’ so well.” he turned back to you with a grin. “you see that? she’s a little genius.”

you chuckled, sitting down beside them and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “she’s also very lucky to have such a thoughtful dad.”

kyle leaned into your touch, pressing a kiss to your temple before turning back to his daughter. “right, love, let’s go over the numbers one more time. just so you can show mummy how clever you are.”

your daughter giggled, ready for the challenge, while you watched the two of them with a full heart, knowing this was a memory you’d treasure forever.

divider credit

[wwooyology]

Thrill Of The Chase | J.WY

「pairing」 : bf!wooyoung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 5.7k

「synopsis」 : it was supposed to be a cute and sweet date to the corn maze, so how did it turn into cat and mouse chase with your boyfriend? and what was he after? you of course.

「genre」 : smut, horror/thriller, fluff if you squint, dark romance

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, DARK THEMES!!!, cussing, teasing, dubcon/noncon, crying, wooyoung is just a lil insane, chasing with a knife, wooyoung wears a mask at one point, kissing, sloppy makeout, fingering, clit play, choking, hair pulling, slight bulge kink, spanking, dacryphilia, edging, breast play, slight manhandling, overstimulation, finger sucking, unprotected sex, mean dom!wooyoung x sub!reader, squirting, multiple orgasms, wooyoung is kinda sadistic, petnames (babydoll, babe, baby, little mouse...), derogatory names (slut), slight breath play, begging, knife play, blood play, blood eating, wooyoung is just a nasty freak, biting/marking, rough sex, outside sex, creampie, mentions of wearing a mask in a sexual light at the end, implications of multiple rounds, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : HAPPY HALLOWEEN BABES!!! 🎃 we can all shout a huge ass thank you to rae for planting this seed into my mind. what she thought was an innocent little thought turned into a huge ass obsession for me. so I gift to you the result of said obsession 🙂‍↕️ I hope that you all enjoy this and stay spooky, my loves, mwah! 💋

now playing ➻ killing butterflies/lou bliss & dead man runnin'/seulgi

It was almost pitch dark outside, the half-moon being the only source of light in the remote area that Wooyoung had taken you to. He wanted to plan a spooky but cute Halloween date for the both of you since he knew how much you loved the spooky season. However, something about a random corn maze in the middle of nowhere didn’t exactly sit well with you. Sure, you loved horror movies, but you weren’t as stupid as some of the movie characters.

But somehow, someway Wooyoung had managed to drag you out here, although he still has another battle to fight. Getting you out of the car.

“Come on, babe, it's really not that bad. I promise.” He pleaded with you, his hand holding onto yours as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

The both of you have been sitting in his car for the past fifteen minutes because you just felt uneasy about being in the middle of nowhere, especially at night. Not to mention that there was barely any lighting, meaning one wrong move, and either of you could get hurt. 

“Woo, we literally cannot see a thing out here; we’re gonna get hurt.” You sighed trying your best to not give into his pleading gaze, but you felt your resolve start to crumble when his bottom lip jutted out.

Wooyoung then dropped your hand before turning and reaching back into the backseat floorboards where he had a backpack sitting. Pulling the bag into his lap Wooyoung unzipped it before rummaging around and eventually pulled out a flashlight, a huge grin on his face.

“I bought a flashlight; we’ll be able to see just fine," he told you triumphantly, zipping the bag back up after setting the flashlight down in one of the empty cup holders. You could only let out a defeated sigh, knowing that you weren’t going to be winning this fight. Plus, you were already here, so why not? What’s the worst that can happen?

“Alright, fine.” You nodded your head as you started to unbuckle your seatbelt. Wooyoung let out a loud cheer, causing you to jump before pulling the keys out of the ignition and pushing his door open. A gust of cold wind blew into the car, making you shiver; the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall. Something about all of this just felt off. You couldn’t say what exactly it was, but it was there.

You reached for the door handle, but before your fingers could wrap around the handle, the door flew open, making you gasp softly. Looking up, you found your boyfriend standing there, leaning against the car door, his arm propped on the top and a teasing smirk on his lips. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his outstretched hand, allowing him to pull you from the car and shut the door behind you.

Standing next to Wooyoung you looked around the area, seeing the corn maze off in the distance. There was an eerie stillness about it, causing a shiver to run down your spine, or maybe that was just the wind. Without the bright sun, it was beyond freezing, the cold wind seeping through your clothes despite the multiple layers of clothing you were wearing. Noticing your discomfort, Wooyoung walked over, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame and holding you close.

You let out a content sigh as you melted into his touch, arms wrapping loosely around his waist, eyes fluttering close as you laid your head on his chest. His warmth instantly ran the cold off, leaving you warm once more.

“You promise that there’s a heater in the middle?” You asked, propping your chin on his chest to look up at him. Even in the dim lighting of the moon, he looked ethereal, and you wanted nothing more than to bite him but refrained from doing so.

Wooyoung smiled before leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. “I promise that you will love what I have waiting in the middle.” He promised, and you nodded, completely missing the sinister gleam in his foxy eyes.

He pulls away from you and grabs your hand before pulling you towards the corn maze. As the two of you walked hand-in-hand, you really started to notice how remote the area really was. If something were to happen, screaming would be pointless because no one would hear you. Goosebumps littered your skin when you heard the sounds of birds squawking off in the distance; that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach grew. You trusted Wooyoung, though; you knew that he would never intentionally put you in harm's way, so you just swallowed the lump in your throat and continued to follow after your dark-haired boyfriend.

“Watch your step, babydoll; there’s a hole here.” Wooyoung glanced back at you as he shined the light down onto the floor under him. You grimaced slightly when you noticed how deep it was, and the thought of breaking an ankle because of it made you shiver.

You stepped around it before following closely behind Wooyoung, not wanting to stray too far, seeing as he was the one with the flashlight and you had left your phone in the car. Another gust of wind blew past you, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand tall, and your lips started to quiver.

“W-Woo, maybe we should just g-go back.” Your teeth clattered as you wrapped yourself around his arm, hoping to pull some of his warmth for yourself again.

Wooyoung glanced down at you with a sympathetic gaze before shrugging one of the backpack straps off and digging around. After a few moments, he pulled out a pair of hand warmers and handed them to you.

“Here, these should help until we get to the middle.” He whispered softly as he made sure you were set before walking towards the entrance of the corn maze.

You followed behind him once more. However, the moment you looked up, you stopped dead in your tracks. The entrance loomed over you as if waiting for the right moment to snap its jaw around you, and the crops looked to be well over a head taller than you. The moon offered no light to the entrance, almost making it look like a portal to another dimension.

You wanted to reach out and grab Wooyoung to tell him that you could just go back to the safety of your apartment and binge-watch all the horror movies you could think of. But he was already a few feet ahead of you, making his way into the maze.

“Wooyoung, wait!” you called out to him as you jogged towards him. Once you were at his side, he glanced down at you with another teasing smirk, making you roll your eyes.

You stayed right at Wooyoung’s side as he navigated the turns that uneasy feeling never going away, and the deeper you got, the more it grew. There were absolutely no landmarks to tell you whether or not you’ve been in that area, only making you even more anxious. 

“You do know where we’re going right?” You asked, a hint of panic in your voice as you continued to walk, eyes flickering over to Wooyoung for a moment. Your stomach churned as the cool wind blew all around you, making the crops sway.

A loud squawk made you jump, latching yourself to Wooyoung’s arm, causing the male to burst out laughing. You glared up at him before slapping his chest, causing him to jump this time and look down at you with a cheeky smile. However, in the dim lighting, it made it look far more sinister, only making your heart race more.

“Ya know, for someone who loves horror movies, you sure are jumpy.” He teased, poking your side, and you slapped his hand away. Your heart was still hammering under your ribcage as you held onto Wooyoung’s arm tightly.

“I like to watch them, Woo, not become a part of one," you told him, sas tainting your tone, and he shook his head. 

Your eyes continued to scan your surroundings as the two of you walked even deeper into the maze. Glancing back at the way you came, you weren’t too sure if you would even be able to find your way back out. Your heart continued to thump erratically in your chest as the unease crept back in, sinking its claws deeper and deeper until you were almost ready to tell Wooyoung to forget about this whole thing.

Just as you were about to open your mouth, Wooyoung stopped in his tracks, his hands patting down his pockets. You released his arm to let him look for whatever it was he was searching for, but never straying too far. He cursed under his breath before looking over at you and holding out the flashlight.

“Hold this for a second," he said. You quickly grabbed it and pointed down at the ground, where he crouched down, his backpack now in his hands.

Your lips curled inward as you watched him, wondering what it was that he was looking for. The both of you had agreed to leave your phones in the car to just enjoy each other's company so you weren’t too sure. Then the sound of a twig snapping and shuffling from behind you made your body freeze before turning to shine the light in the direction you heard the noises from, completely forgetting about Wooyoung for a second. Your heart started to race as you tried to look between the tall stalks of corn, but you couldn’t see a thing. Swallowing thickly, you continued to look, wanting to make sure that it was just your mind playing tricks on you and not something you should actually be worried about.

“Woo, did you hear that?” Your voice shook as you called out to your boyfriend; however, when you didn’t receive a response, your blood ran cold.

Spinning back around, you found the spot where Wooyoung once stood was empty, and he was nowhere to be seen. Your breathing started to grow rapidly as you whipped around in every direction, trying to find your boyfriend.

“Wooyoung, if this is one of your pranks, it’s not funny.” You called out, tears burning your eyes as your hands shook.

The air around you started to grow heavy as you tried to retrace your steps, thinking that he was hiding around one of the bends, waiting for the perfect time to jump out and scare you. You held back tears as the wind blew around you, blowing your hair into your face. Then suddenly, the flashlight started to flicker, and your heart dropped.

“No, no, no, no, you stupid thing.” You cried as you smacked the palm of your hand with the flashlight, hoping to steady the light, but it was no use as it shut off completely. Leaving you in complete darkness.

Your heart started to beat erratically as you tried to get the stupid thing to turn back on, tears dripping from your eyelashes, “please turn back on.” Pleas and cries fell from your lips as you desperately tried to get the flashlight to work once more.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose as your body went rigid when you felt a presence behind you. Your brain was yelling at you to run and get as far away as possible, but your legs were glued to the ground, unable to move.

“Run.” A voice spoke right into your ear, making you scream, and more tears spilled from your eyes. Before your mind could register it, your legs were moving you deeper into the maze, running around the bends and narrowly dodging some of the looming corn stalks. 

Tears ran down your flushed cheeks as you ran until you ended up in a dead end, causing you to cry out, hands shaking violently.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You screamed, turning to go back the way you came, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw someone standing there.

Your ears started to ring, feet shuffling away as your eyes landed on the mask they were wearing. It was a Japanese Oni mask. Your fingers tightened around the flashlight as you backed away, a small scream leaving your lip when you stumbled and they started to walk towards you. That’s when you noticed the moonlight gleaming off of an object in their hand, and your blood ran cold. 

They were holding a knife.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stumbled back until you felt the corn stalks at your back, meaning you had nowhere else to go. Tears continued to fall from the corner of your eyes as you watched them get closer until they stopped.

“I wanna play a little game…” They finally spoke, causing you to flinch, the mask muffling their voice, making it hard to disconcert who it was. You didn’t say a word as you watched them bring the knife up, head turned to look at it before snapping back to you. “A game of tag, hmm.” They hummed as they moved even closer to you, almost within an arm's reach. Your body then froze, jaw tight as they brought the knife up to your face, the point dangerously close to your cheek. “I’ll give you a ten-second head start, but…” Their hand wrapped around your throat before you could even blink, a gasp falling from your lips as they brought you closer to them. “If I catch you, then I can’t promise that I’ll be gentle.”

Your heart started to hammer in your chest as you realized that this was just some sick and twisted game, but it was the only way you could get out alive. Or so you thought, at least. Just then, the wind blew, and the scent of a familiar cologne washed over your senses, causing your body to go rigid.

“W-Wooyoung?” Your eyes went wind, hands wrapping around his wrist. 

Under the mask, a deep chuckle could be heard, his grip growing tighter, but just enough to make you whimper. He stayed silent for a moment longer, gauging your reaction and loving the fear and confusion in your eyes.

“What do you say babydoll?” The use of his normal pet name for you made your stomach churn, and some of the fear started to fade away. You swallowed thickly, looking at him with wide eyes, but the words wouldn’t leave your tongue. “Wanna play a game?” 

His voice dropped an octave causing your mind to swirl, lighting a fire in the pit of your stomach. However, fear starts to etch itself into your skin once more. A part of you wanted to yell at him that this little joke of his wasn’t funny and that you wanted to go home. The other part of you wanted to know what he was going to do, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Now…” He released your neck, allowing you to breathe properly, and stepped to the side, “Run along little mouse.”

You didn’t even think twice before you took off running once more, not bothering to look behind you. Even as fear coursed through your veins, you couldn’t help but also feel excited; something about it made your stomach flutter.

You tried to remember which way you came from, hoping that maybe if you got to the car, you would win Wooyoung’s little game. Yet you were sure it wasn’t that simple because finding your way out seemed almost impossible as you rounded another corner. Everything in this damn maze looked the same, and it infuriated you, tears streaming down your face.

The area around you was quiet, and it gave you a bad feeling, seeing as you were sure that ten seconds had already passed. However, glancing over your shoulder you didn’t see any sign of your masked boyfriend. You weren’t sure whether to be worried or relieved, but you did know that you weren’t going to stop.

A cry of relief fell from your lips when the flashlight finally kicked back on, allowing you to see the path in front of you. Using the light, you navigated through the maze; the cold no longer bothers you due to adrenaline. Tears continued to silently drip from your eyelashes as you rounded yet another corner, but this time you stopped short when you noticed a lantern sitting in the middle of an opening. Your heart was nearly beating out of your chest as you moved closer.

‘Maybe this is the center…?’ You thought to yourself as you took careful steps, unsure of what could be lying beyond the threshold. With each step, you started to feel more and more uneasy, a voice in the back of your mind screaming danger.

The sound of a twig snapping behind you made you turn around, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach, and a scream erupted from your lips. Wooyoung was standing mere inches away, no longer wearing the mask, and a sinister smirk playing on his lips. He quickly slapped a hand over your mouth, muffling your screams as you fought against his hold, forcing you down to the ground.

“I caught you babydoll. You lose.” He chuckled, making you lay flat on the ground, his hand still firmly placed over your mouth. You tried to use your hands to push him off, muffled screams echoing in the dimly lit area. “Scream all you want, but no one is gonna hear you.” His voice taunted you as he grabbed both of your wrists in his hands, pinning them above your head, “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and take your punishment, or are we gonna have to do this the hard way?” He asked, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he stared down at you.

Your heart was hammering against your ribs as you stared up at him with misty eyes, fear settling into your bones. Fighting against his hold was pointless; he was too strong—he was always too strong. So you stopped trying, causing Wooyoung to smirk, moving his hands from your mouth, watching in sick amusement as your lips trembled.

“Good girl.” He cooed, leaning closer to your face. Your eyes fluttered as his warm breath washed over your face. His free hand then moved down to your neck, fingers tracing your jugular, leaving behind goosebumps in their wake.

“W-Woo…” Your voice shook as you called out to him, eyes opening once more to find his dark orbs already on you. The way his gaze bore into you left you squirming underneath him, and despite the fear that had its claws sunk into your brain, there was a burning desire in your gut.

“Shhh, little mouse.” He ghosted his lips over yours, and your eyes fluttered shut, awaiting his kiss, but it never came. Wooyoung pulled away from you, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he watched you chase after him, but you could only move so far with his hold on you. The smirk then dropped from his lip before his hand wrapped around your throat, causing a sharp gasp to leave your lips, eyes flying open. “You lost the game, now I get to claim my prize.”

Then, in the blink of an eye, he released your wrists and flipped you over onto your stomach. You tried to turn your head to look at him, but he was quick to grab the back of your neck and held you down in place. His free hand then trailed down your back before he looped his fingers around the waistband of your bottoms and tugged harshly.

“Woo, wait!” You cried out, not ready for the cold to bite at your bare skin as he peeled your pants from your body, a gasp leaving your lips from the sudden chill. The ground was rough against your bare legs as you squirmed in his hold until a stinging pain erupted from your ass.

“Stop moving,” Wooyoung growled, his hand pressing flat on the small of your back, halting all of your movements.

Tears stung in your eyes as you bit your lip, trying to keep from letting any noises slip. The burning sensation was soothed by the cold wind, but it didn’t last long when he delivered a few more sharp smacks to the plump flesh of your ass. Small cries and whimpers left your lips every time his hand came into contact with your skin until he stopped squeezing your ass. His fingers then moved down to your thighs, pulling your legs apart despite your protests.

“You’re such a dirty slut, look at how wet you are.” He taunted you, his fingers dipping between your folds. Your legs snapped shut around his hand when he brushed over your aching clit, this action only angering the dark-haired male. A cry tore from your lips when he slapped your thigh, tears dripping from your eyelashes. “Keep your legs open.” The growl in his voice only left you dripping more with arousal.

“Woo–”

“Shut up and spread your legs.” He demanded, his fingers around your neck tightening, making you whine. A part of you screamed at you to go against him, but the other, louder part of you told you to just listen, and maybe he’ll go easy on you. So you did as told, spreading your legs and allowing his hand to slip back down to your drenched core. “I told you I wasn’t gonna be nice if I caught you, babydoll.” 

Without any warning, he plunged his finger into you, a loud moan falling from your lips as he fucked his digit into you at a merciless pace. You then slapped your hands over your mouth to muffle your moans, causing Wooyoung to chuckle darkly.

“I already told you no one can hear you out here.” He whispered as he leaned down to brush his lips against your ear. You let out another cry of his name when he added a second finger into your soaping heat, scissoring you open.

“Fuck!” You cried out, pleasure washing over your entire being as he continued to roughly fuck his fingers into you. White spots started to dance across your vision as your high crept closer, and because of the hold he had on your neck, making it hard to breathe properly, too.

Just as your high was about to crash down on you, Wooyoung pulled his fingers out, leaving you high and dry. You started to protest but were quickly silenced when he spanked you once again. You gasped at the stinging pain, fingers curling into fists.

His hand holding the back of your neck released its grip, allowing you to breathe properly. However, he combed his fingers through your hair and grabbed a handful. He pulled you up by your hair, causing you to cry out. Your hands flew back to grab his wrist as tears spilled from your eyes. Once you were on your knees, he pulled your head back until you were looking up at him.

“You have no idea how long I’ve thought about having you like this.” He smirked, taking in the state that you were in. Tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, some specks of dirt from the ground were smeared on your cheek and jaw, and god, did you look good like this. Then a dark, sinister gleam covered his iris’.

Your breath hitched in your throat when he brought something to your face. The sharp point of the knife he had earlier traced your jawline; one wrong move, and he would break the skin. You kept completely still as he brought it down your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“I wonder how pretty you would look covered in blood,” He tilted his head, watching your wide eyes swim with fear. A gasp broke through your lips when he pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck, the blade easily breaking the skin.

Wooyoung watched with a borderline insane smile as your sweet cherry-red blood seeped from the small wound. He watched it as it ran down your skin until it soaked into your clothes, and his smile dropped, annoyed.

You wouldn’t openly admit it, but there was something exciting about him using the knife against you. The thrill that coursed through your veins was unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you couldn’t help but want more. 

The fear you felt before was almost completely gone as you looked at Wooyoung, lust pooling in your blown-out pupils. Your hands then released his wrist before moving shakily to your coat zipper, slowly unzipping it as his eyes watched you closely.

Once your jacket was off Wooyoung wasted no time in hooking the knife under the thin fabric of your shirt before pulling. You gasped when the sounds of your shirt ripping were heard, and the now tattered shirt was split, leaving you in just your bra.

“C’mere.” He growled, tugging you into his lap which you complied, your hands moving to his shoulders. He then tugged your head back once more, moving his tongue along your smooth skin, collecting your crimson blood in his mouth before biting down harshly, making you cry out.

“W-Woo– fuck!” Your fingers tightened around his shoulders as he continued to bite and suck on your neck.

The pressure between your thighs was almost unbearable, and your hips unconsciously rolled against his, resulting in a deep groan. Wooyoung dropped the knife before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts spill from their confinement.

“Look at you, already so fucked out, and I haven’t done much of anything.” He mocked you, taking in the fucked out expression on your face. His hand then fell to your hip, halting your movements, and you let out a whine. “You wanna cum so badly, then work for it slut.” His voice was low as he released your hair, letting your neck relax.

“Woo…” You whined, but your hips rocked against his nonetheless, the rough fabric of his jeans felt delicious against your aching clit. Spreading your legs a bit more, you fully pressed your hips against his, chasing your high, all while Wooyoung watched with a smug smile.

A gasp fell from your parted lips when he latched his mouth to your breast, nipping at your little bud. A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation, your mind turning to mush as he played with your boobs while you rutted your hips against his.

You could taste your high on the tip of your tongue, and you picked up your pace, needing just a little bit more to finally push you over the edge. However, just before your high came crashing down Wooyoung pulled you off of his lap.

“Woo–”

“Aww, is my little mouse getting frustrated?” He cooed at you, and you wanted to smack him, but you couldn’t even raise your hand before he had you flipped back around. You were on your hands and knees, hips hanging in the air while Wooyoung pressed against your back until your chest was flat against the ground. “Don’t worry, babydoll, you’ll get what you want in no time.”

You turned your head to look back at him, but just like before, he grabbed the back of your neck, halting your movements. Then you heard the sound of his zipper before your body went stiff as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your weeping cunt. Mewls and moans fell from your lips as he teased your slit, and he was soaking in all of your little noises, thriving off of them even.

“Woo, please!" you cried out. The pressure was unbearable, and you needed him to relieve it. Yet he was just toying with you, enjoying the way tears started to fall from your eyes once more.

“Since my babydoll is asking so nicely, who am I to say no? But don’t tell me you can’t handle it.” Wooyoung said before pushing his dick into you all at once, causing a choked moan to tear through your lungs.

He didn’t even give you a chance to adjust before he pulled out and slammed back into you, keeping the brutal pace. Tears blurred your vision as you tried your best to keep up with him, but it was futile. With every thrust, his tip would kiss your cervix, making you see stars.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me too tight.” He growled, free hand holding onto your hip for leverage as he fucked into you, your slick making it easier for him to move.

All that left your lips were moans and cries of Wooyoung’s name, your body becoming unbelievably warm. He chuckled as he watched you lose yourself entirely, but a cocky smirk spread on his lips when he noticed your hips moving back to meet him halfway.

He slowed his movements, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my cock.” 

You mewled as your hips picked up pace, trying to create the kind of friction he was, but it was no use. Pleas spewed from your lips as you started to grow frustrated, and Wooyoung just watched in twisted amusement.

When he couldn’t wait any longer, he released your neck and grabbed your hair once more, tugging you up until your back met his chest. You cried out when he started fucking into you ruthlessly once more, the new angle allowing him to hit your sweet spot.

“Fuck!” You cursed, eyes rolling back when he moved one hand down to toy with your puffy clit. Your legs shook violently and stars danced across your vision when you felt the knot in your stomach tightened to an unbelievable level.

Your volume only grew louder the more he played with your body, and tears soaked your face. They were quieted, however, when Wooyoung shoved his middle and index fingers in your mouth, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You’re so noisy, baby.”

You wrapped your plump lips around his fingers, tongue dancing along his skin as he continued to fuck into your soaping cunt. He chuckled darkly as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, making you squirm.

“God you don’t have a clue what you do to me.” Wooyoung growled as he moved his hand from your clit to your stomach, “this…” he groaned, pressing down on the visible bulge of his cock on your stomach, “this, little mouse, is only part of what you do to me.”

You moaned around his fingers the more he pressed down on your stomach, making you feel every inch of his cock as he fucked you. The pleasure was making your brain spiral the closer you got to your climax. You wanted to beg him to not stop to let you cum, but his fingers muffled all of your words.

“Are you gonna cum babydoll?” He cooed in your ear, and you nodded, eyes squeezing shut and pushing more tears out.

You felt so close, but this one felt different than your other ones. Your body felt like it was on fire and was about to explode in a matter of seconds. His hand then moved back down to your clit, and you didn’t even get a chance to warn him when your orgasm washed over you.

A loud muffled moan erupted from your lungs as you squirted everywhere, coating Wooyoung’s fingers and clit. 

“Holy fuck.” He groaned, watching you fall apart on his cock.

Your whole body trembled as Wooyoung continued to fuck you through your orgasm, but his pace never stopped. His hips snapped into your with more fever as he started to chase his own high and threw you into overstimulation in the process.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and wrapped them around your neck as you turned your head towards him. His lips then found yours in a sloppy kiss, saliva spilled from your lips. You cried out when he started toying with your clit once more, but your noises were quickly swallowed by his mouth when he sealed your lips with his again.

With a few more sharp thrusts, he buried himself in your cunt, spilling his seed deep into your womb. The warm sensation triggered another orgasm from you, and he let out a high-pitched groan as you milked him for all of his worth.

“Shit, baby.” He whined as your cunt continued to flutter around his sensitive cock, his hold on your body tight. The air was silent as the both of you caught your breath, soaking in each other’s warmth.

Wooyoung let go of your neck, wrapping his arms around your midsection and burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your shaky hand came up to run your fingers through his sweat locks, and you laughed softly when you felt him shudder against you.

“You look like you enjoyed that, "you teased him, and he just chuckled before pulling away, staring at you through his eyelashes. The gleam in his eyes made you swallow thickly, already knowing what it meant.

“I could say that to you too, but you can only blame yourself, really.” He teased, pressing feather-light kisses along your bare shoulder and neck, “You were the one that said it’d be hot to get chased and fucked by a masked man.”

“I didn’t expect you to take it seriously!” You exclaimed, looking back at him with wide eyes, and he just smirked.

“Oh, I take everything seriously, especially when it comes to you, babydoll.” His voice dropped an octave, his hands starting to wander your body once more. “Now, why don’t we try it with the mask on, hmm?” Your body shivered at the thought of him fucking you with the mask, and he could tell when you tightened around his half-hard cock. He chuckled, nipping at your skin with a sinister gleam in his eyes. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

He didn’t waste a second before flipping you onto your back, grabbing the oni mask he was wearing earlier, and slipping it over his face. It was safe to say that you had a very long night in that corn maze, and you couldn’t walk correctly for a few days afterward, but all in all, it was worth it.

Even if you thought you were going to be murdered in the beginning.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[wolfytae-exe]

TEACH ME.(S)

Summary: In which your boy best friend needs help impressing a girl.

Warning: Noona kink, dry humping, implied unrequited love, fwb, raw(wrap before you tap), bottom tyun, grinding/humping, teasing, tempting, nipple sucking, oral(fem receiving), early orgasm, over-stim, multiple orgasms, college au, switch tyun, mean dom tyun, slight pain kink, whiny sub tyun, thigh riding, praise + degradation, name calling + pet names, switch reader, size kink if you squint lemme know if i missed anything

Paring: virgin bbsf!Taehyun + Older!Reader

“I’m sorry- what?” You whisper yell, staring at your best friend. Kang Taehyun, you’ve known him since you both were in the 2nd and 3rd grade. You had fended off tiny little bullies that made fun of him being a child actor with your hot tempered personality.

You always stood by his side, fending off bullies until he grew a pair and was able to stand up for himself, given that only really happened mid-highschool when he began working out.

You are now in your 3rd year of college, him in his second, and sitting in your dorm room.

Your roommate had left the shared space hours ago to go to some frat party so you decided to invite and catch up with your boy best friend.

Everything was just fine, he got in the building just fine, been sitting in your floating chair for hours now, but the moment he began talking about his tiny little crush on the girl in his vocal class, telling you everything he loved about her and how badly he wants to impress her you couldn’t help but be shocked.

Taehyun has only dated once, in middle school. He’s always mentioned how he never felt an attraction to the people around him, even recently claimed to be Aromantic, but with this new found information you couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.

You’ve never liked Taehyun, never even thought of him anyway other than a friend. Except that one time when you first hit puberty, and after him and his girlfriend broke up, and when his voice deepened, and when he grew taller than you, and when he started working out- but that’s besides the point.

Your jealousy was cut short the moment he asked you for help anyways, he really wanted to impress this girl. “I really like her Noona..” Taehyun whined, hand pressed to his chest simply because thinking about her overwhelmed his heart.

You cocked a brow at him, never seeing him like this. “And I’m supposed to help? I don’t know the girl, she’s probably already impressed by you anyways.” You argue, muttering the last bit under your breath as you pull out your phone to check the time

10:36PM, damn no wonder your eyes were heavy.

Taehyun groaned and sat up from the chair. “But you’re a girl, you can point me into the right direction!” You rolled your eyes at that. “Tyun I’m almost positive you won’t be rejected no matter what you do.” You say as you get up and move to your closet, pulling out of the boys t-shirts, now stuck with the smell of you from the multiple wears.

“I doubt that, she never even looks at me, I sit right in front of her and she’s never looking at me!” He complains, not even bothered as you begin to strip your shirt and shorts. “Look, if she’s not looking at you in the first place then something is already wrong with this picture.” You say before slipping the shirt on, letting it fall over your ass and thighs like a short dress.

Taehyun let’s a pout fall on his face, he was always so open and expressive with you. “God, fine if you really want some advice you need to get out your comfort zone and fuck her.” You bluntly said, reaching under your shirt to unclip your bra. “Why would that help me?” The man sounded appalled, and unbelievably stupid.

“You’re fucking with me right?” you deadpanned before groaning in frustration when your bra just refused to budge. “Help me.” You say before walking and dipping down a bit in front of him. “I’m serious, you shouldn’t joke like that, I don’t just want to get into her pants.” Taehyun responds with frustration before running his hand under your shirt and unclipping the bra between two fingers with ease.

You ignored the shiver that crawled up your spine the moment his fingers brushed your skin. “Tyun look in the mirror. You’re basically a sex symbol, virgin or not I promise you a lot of girls want you, hell she probably wants you too.” You say as you pull the bra out from under your shirt.

It’s silent for a moment, like he was trying to think of some kind of solution to his problem. You took the opportunity to stand up and toss your clothes into the hamper.

When you looked back over to the younger he was just staring. “What?” Was there something on your ass or something? You brushed your hand over your ass to feel for whatever was making him stare so hard. “Did I sit in something? Oh my- am I bleeding?” You gasped out, now panicked and trying to look down.

“You’re okay Noona, no blood, I just had a question.” You let out a sigh at that, falling back into your bed with content. “Yeah?” You responded further. “What do you think?” Taehyun practically whispered the question across the room. “Think about what?” Your eyes squinted, trying to hear him.

Taehyun practically avoided looking at you any more than he has, becoming more aware of how bare you were in front of him. “Me.” He paused as if finishing his question would really change the meaning of it. “Do you want me?” He finished, sinking a little in his seat.

Your eyes widened. “E-excuse me?” You stutter up a scoff, the question making you think about it, what being in bed with him would be like. “You just seem so sure and you’ve known me the longest so I think it’s a fair question.” Taehyun breathes, trying to slow the bouncing in his leg.

Your silence is what answers the question, making him hum when you sit up and avoid eye contact. Taehyun’s the one staring now, legs opening into a more comfortable position. “Noona~” He practically dragged the word over his tongue with a hum and teasing smile.

“You look so guilty, you want me that bad?” He continued before getting up, taking in the way your thighs press together at his words. The moment he starts walking over, your head is up, staring up at him with shame. “So? I can want and know not to touch. Don’t change the subject when we’re talking about your little crush.” You huff, dodging his accusing teases.

Taehyun hums, standing over you with a new found confidence. “Okay, so how do you expect me to fuck her.” He follows up fast, fighting the smirk threatening to give away how much he’s enjoying the power you simply handed to him. “What kind of dumbass question is that?” you scoff, running your hand over the sides of your shirt.

Taehyun just inched closer, now leaned over the bed. “I get you’re a virgin and whatever but don’t tell me you don’t know the birds and the bees.” You say sarcastically, trying to desperately de-escalate the situation at hand.

“Noona.” Taehyuns face remained stoic, he spoke with depth and full intent to continue what he started. “Stop calling me that.” You fought the whimper in the back of your throat, instead breathing out a bit hard through your nose. “I’m only a year older.” You mumble, sucking in when the younger gets a bit too close.

“Teach me.” Taehyun can’t hide the smirk anymore, a wide upturn of his lips making his request sound a lot more dangerous than it was. “Wh- Do you hear yourself?” You’re absolutely bewildered with this mans confidence.

“I’ve never had sex before Noona, I can’t impress her that way, I need to learn first.” There was a slight purr in his voice, and you felt a rush of wetness soak the middle of your panties. “Tyun, I don’t know.. We’re like- Best friends, isn’t it a bit weird?” You confess, trying hard not to react.

Taehyun hummed. “I think it’s just fine, we’ve known each other for so long, I trust you enough, and I’m positive that we’d stay best friends no matter what.” And just like that Taehyun was down on the bed, laying in front of you on his side.

You were still nervous on it, you wanted him so badly, he has always been your type, a nerdy dork turned gym jock with hella musical background. “Are you sure? I just- I don’t need you to regret your decision.” You sigh out, nerves not allowing you to breathe correctly.

“I’ll be okay, please teach me how to please you.” His voice softened, eyes hard yet big. You could feel yourself throb, pressing your thighs harder together. “Okay..” You let out, leaning out of your spot and leaning toward the younger. “First, uhm, okay—“ You stutter, this was so not hot. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Taehyun asked under his breath, eyes already on your lips.

That was definitely hot, a whimper left your mouth in response, which caused your ears to burn in embarrassment. “Yes..” You sighed, letting him lean into you and take control, pressing his lips flush against yours softly. With a shiver you followed, closing your eyes and letting your lips move together fluidly, there was so much trust and softness in the kiss you felt yourself melt into him.

Taehyun pulled away a bit quick, a little red in the face. “Did I do good Noona?” He asked, a little more eager for you now, god this man just keeps switching back and forth, does he want to tease you or please you? “So good, touch me- my waist-“ You tried to order, you didn’t mess around a lot, too focused on school to party or do anything other than get your degree so it was a bit difficult to voice what you wanted.

Taehyun was quick to please, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him and rolling onto his back so you could get on top. “Can I?” He panted, hands running under your shirt. “Not yet- just- just stick to touching me first.” You respond, too embarrassed with your bare body all of a sudden.

The younger just nodded and went straight to your neck, planting small kisses and licks like a cat. “Oh- Tyun-“ You whimpered, pressing more weight of your hips into his. The feeling making a “Fuck-“ slip out from him and warm your skin further. Taehyuns hands found purchase on your hips and began grinding you down, wanting to feel that pulsating pleasure again.

“Fu- Tyun you- you fucking liar-“ You choke up, following his hands and humping his jeans. “You’re good and you know it.” You pant the accusation, a whimper following quickly. “Fuck don’t stop.” Taehyuns hands were far from your body now, moving to remove his shirt. You tilted your head back, feeling his rough jeans rub just right on your clit.

“You’re so hot, using me like this. Use me to please yourself Noona.” Taehyun whispered, the last bit to himself yet loud enough to make you whine in response. The boys jeans were so unbelievably tight, painfully tight, all he could do was moan and buck into you, the motion did nothing but make your hips stutter and stop, all of a sudden overwhelmed with the pleasure.

When you came back too, you looked down at Taehyun, his washboard abs and tight pecs on display. Without a second thought you were in between his neck, planting kisses from his jaw to his throat, a small suck on his adams’s apple before moving down to his chest.

You both made eye contact, lust filled gaze connected with each other instantly before you took his left nipple into your mouth, licking at the tiny bud of nerves. “Ah- Noona please-“ He whined, unable to keep his facade up. Your left hand ran through his hair while your right ran down his chest to his jeans.

“S-so good I- Oh god-“ He stuttered, too distracted by your tongue so foreignly on his nipple to even notice your fingers undoing his jeans, it wasn’t until your hand palmed his cock through his boxers when he noticed, a gasp coming out so hard you felt his chest cave in for a second. “Falling apart just from this? I don’t think you’ll last to fuck a girl, Tyun~” You teased, not expecting Taehyun to buck and moan with no care for volume as a response.

You could feel Taehyun growing in your palm, enough to makes you pull off him and pull his jeans and boxers down to see if what you were feeling was real. The younger let out a whine at the cold air hitting his cock while your eyes widened. “You’re not gonna fit-“ You gasped, looking a little defeated as you eyed the curvy, thick cock in front of you.

His cock curved up onto his abs and you knew if you were to wrap your mouth around him you would dislocate your jaw halfway down. “Please- h-hurts Noona.” He panted desperately, tears welling up at the painful throbbing at the tip of his red cock.

You hesitated for a second before peeling your wet panties off and taking his shirt off your body, tossing it away. “Taehyun if you break me I swear to god.” You spew as you climb back on him. “Do you have a condom?” You ask quickly, it takes Taehyun a moment to realize you weren’t doing anything until he answered so he simply shook his head. “You?” He asked simply, you shook your head. “Maybe my roommate has one- ah!” You yelp put as Taehyun pulls you down to his cock, the tip hitting your entrance before slipping through your pussy lips and over your clit.

“Tae!” You scold, “you cant play like that, you have no experience pulling out.” You continue while he slowly grinds into your clit. “I’ll get soft by time you come back.” The boy whines, “I’ll tell you when I’m about to cum and you can pull me out if I don’t move.”

You let out a sigh. “Not happening.” You hold your ground, you’re not risking it even for your best friend. “Not even if I do this?” He tests before running your clit up and down his cock a bit harder yet slower, letting you feel every vein and fold with the drag. A whimper left you as you looked down at the way his cock pressed flat against his abs, pooling pre-cum into the crevices.

“We can just stay like this- please, just wanna feel you on my cock.” Taehyun begged quietly, eyeing the way your nipples hardened in the cold. The effect those words had on you were borderline embarrassing as you whined and let him roll your hips into his.

“Oh fuck- ‘o good-“ You pant, feeling the way the praise goes straight to his cock. “so good to Noona.” Taehyun bucked at that, fighting the way he wanted to cum already. “‘m good boy?” Taehyun asked with glossy eyes, unable to not melt in your control.

“Such a good boy, Tyunie.” You praise before slowly giving into him and his whining, letting his tip slip in before pulling out and rubbing him down your folds again. You repeated this a few times until he began squirming.

“Noona- ‘m sorry- close-“ Taehyun whined, eyes closing in embarrassment before cum shot over his abs and chest and a raspy moan that came straight from his chest followed.

You let out a moan as his cock twitched against your clit. His cock looked so cute spurting out the white strings of his arousal. A giggle left your lips as you continued your movements, pushing more and more out of him until he was trembling and begging for you to ease up.

“Tyun, Noona isn’t satisfied, how will you ever please your girl if you can’t get me to cum?” You taunted, bringing your nails to his chest and scratching down to leave red marks.

“N-Noona~” Taehyun high pitched purr left his lips in response. “T-Too much-“ he panted. “Hmm, then you need more practice.” You hum, lifting off him and moving to the side while he caught his breath.

You watched the way his cum trickled down his sides before they dripped off into sheets of your bed. “You’re messing up my sheets.” You mutter before swiping a bit off his navel with your finger and licking it off, watching as he stared deep into your eyes.

You hum at the salty taste that sticks to your tastebuds before going down and licking directly off his abs. You’ve wanted to do this the moment he ended up with them, wanted nothing more than to lick them up and down.

Taehyun whined, the feeling of your tongue all over him reigniting that flame in his stomach. “You’re like a half virgin now, how does that feel?” You tease, kissing up his abs to his chest, sucking small hickeys on it. “Did that even count?” Taehyun panted, running his hands over your hair.

“Either count it or we can try over and over and over again.” You whispered, kissing up his chest in between words. “We can set a schedule, you’ll get the hang of it in no time.” You hum, kissing at his jaw before settling close to his face and pressing your chest to his.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Y/N.” Taehyun lets a flushed grin grow on his face. “I’m not threatening you, but I am serious.” You say before rutting onto his thighs slowly. “I’m sorry I came so early.” Taehyun mutters in embarrassment. “You’re a virgin ah- It’s bound to happen.” You pant in reply, letting your arousal wet his thigh.

“God look at you, using me like a slut.” Taehyun hums, before moving his hand to the small of your back to help

control your movements. “What happened to being a good boy?” You tease, a shaky sigh in pleasure following quickly after.

“I know I’m a good boy, letting you use me for your own pleasure, you’re supposed to be helping me but you just can’t help but rut your dirty little cunt on me after i’ve already cum.” Taehyun degrades, eyes dark all of a sudden as his free hand finds your face, thumb pushing your bottom lip down and flattening your tongue.

A wail comes out from your throat as you speed up, the degradation doing nothing but making wanna cum all over his thighs. “You’re bad~” He teases, tensing his thigh muscles under you. “I bet that slutty pussy of yours tastes just as good as it feel though.” He moans out, nails clawing into your lower back just at the thought.

“F-Fuck wh-“ You whimper, why was he being so mean all of a sudden? The pain in your back made tears prick your eyes. “Please- make me feel good-“ You beg, wanting nothing more than to feel his tongue all on you.

“Aww well how can I deny that pretty little look, doll? Move up pretty.” Taehyun commands, fingers digging a bit deeper. “Ah!” You let out before moving fast and lifting off his thigh. You shuffled your hips up, moving above his face. “Y-You know how to do this?”

Taehyun just stared at you, lust haze covering every corner of his iris. “Just sit on my face.” He rasped out while wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to sit completely. “O-Oh..” You sighed as his nose pressed straight into your clit.

It was only when Taehyun opened up his mouth and began eating you out that you really felt the knot in your stomach. “Ah- Tae-ngh~” You moaned, gripping his hair as his tongue pressed into your heat before performing figure 8’s on your clit.

“W-where-“ You panted as your thighs attempted closing on his head. Your heart pounded and you felt a rush of liquid run down your thigh as he hummed into you. His eyes never left you, nails embedded in your inner thigh to keep you open and nose rubbing and bumping into the sensitive bud whenever he dipped into your hole.

“Tyun- Oh fuck I can’t-“ A whine left you as you gasped for air and arched into him, trying to grind against his nose. “Need more~” Pleasure overtook your senses when he let his teeth graze your clit, a scream let out fast and loud before you came hard.

You tried squirming out only to be pulled back in. Taehyun began eating you out more ferociously, a growl bubbling from his chest as his lapped up your arousal. “Ah- Ah~ Tyun please-“ You begged as he began pushing you to overstimulation. His arms loosed for you to get up and he spoke. “Just one more, Noona, a big girl like you can handle it.” He pushed before holding you back down onto his face and ravaging your heat once more.

Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, unable to control the shaking in your lower body. He was turning you into mush, smile evident on his face as you began babbling about not being able to handle anymore. Very quickly you came again, the push was weak and yet Taehyun enjoyed it just as much before pushing you off him and onto the bed.

“I knew you could take it.” Taehyun sighed before looking at your state. You were curled into yourself, catching your breath. “Wh-Where did you learn that?” You panted before uncurling and turning to him.

“Porn.” He simply said before pulling you into him. “You learned how to do that from porn?” You questioned, allowing yourself to be pulled close to his chest. “Mhm, well they did say it gets women coming every time so I just tried it.” He shrugs before pressing small kisses to your neck.

You hummed and closed your eyes. “I’m surprised it worked. Porn is always exaggerated.” You sigh, running your hands down his chest and back up. You both were feeling each other, too tired to do more but still wanting to touch.

“Is your back okay, Noona?” Taehyun muttered into your hair, gently rubbing the marks in your lower back. The small sting caused you to hiss slightly. “Just burns a little..” You respond quietly. “Is your chest okay?” You ask back, remembering the way your nails clawed into him. “Just a little red..” He responded back.

The comfortable silence was enough to put you both to sleep, gentle snores and cuddles in each others arms. Safe to say, you hoped he’d ask for help more often.

[wolvietxt]

𝓭ay 𝓼eventeen.

daryl dixon and protective.

it was supposed to be a routine supply run. the group needed food, water, and a few extra supplies, so you, daryl, and shane headed out to a nearby town to see what you could scavenge. things had gone sideways fast when a horde of walkers had emerged from an alley, forcing everyone to split up. you’d managed to find cover and fire off a few shots to keep them at bay while daryl and shane took out the rest.

by the time the three of you regrouped, you were shaken and exhausted, but you’d made it out alive. however, it was clear from the second shane’s eyes landed on you that he was far from happy.

“what the hell were you doin’ back there?” shane’s voice cut through the air, loud and furious. he stalked towards you, his eyes blazing with anger. “you were supposed to cover our flank, not go runnin’ off on your own!”

“i didn’t - ” you started, but he cut you off before you could explain.

“yeah, you did!” he snapped, jabbing a finger in your direction. “if daryl and i hadn’t been there to pick up the slack, you’d be walker bait right now. you put us all in danger, runnin’ around like a damn headless chicken!”

“shane, i was trying to help,” you protested, your voice breaking as you took a step back. “the walkers came outta nowhere, and i thought - ”

“thought what? that you’d play hero?” shane’s words dripped with venom as he took a step closer, his chest almost bumping into yours. “you ain’t got the skills to be out there tryin’ to save anyone’s ass, includin’ your own. all you did was get in the way.”

your breath hitched, and you felt your throat tighten as tears stung your eyes. you blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay, but the pressure kept building. “i was doing my best, shane,” you said quietly, struggling to keep your voice steady. “i didn’t mean for - ”

“oh, here we go,” shane scoffed, rolling his eyes. “gonna start cryin’ now? what are you, a damn crybaby?” his voice rose again, echoing across the deserted street. “grow up. you wanna be out here with the rest of us, you better toughen up and stop actin’ like some scared little girl.”

the harshness of his words felt like a slap, and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. they spilled over, trailing down your cheeks as you stood there, frozen and humiliated. shane’s anger didn’t waver; if anything, it seemed to flare hotter at the sight of your tears. he shook his head in disgust, his voice a low growl. “unbelievable,” he muttered, stepping even closer so that you had no choice but to back up again.

daryl’s presence was suddenly there between you and shane, pushing shane back with a firm shove to the chest. his expression was deadly calm, but there was a fire in his eyes that you’d rarely seen before. he turned his back slightly to shield you, his broad shoulders blocking shane’s line of sight.

“what’s your problem, man?” shane barked, shoving daryl right back, his jaw tightening. “this ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

“it does when you’re standin’ here screamin’ in her face and pushin’ her around,” daryl shot back, his voice a low growl. “she did what she could out there, same as the rest of us. don’t make it her fault ‘cause shit went sideways.”

shane’s face twisted in anger, and he took a step forward, pointing an accusing finger at daryl. “you think you’re some kinda hero now, huh? stickin’ up for her ‘cause she’s cryin’? she’s a damn liability, and you know it. coulda gotten us all killed out there!”

“bullshit,” daryl snapped, his voice rising as he moved closer to shane, not backing down an inch. “we all took risks, and it coulda happened to any of us. but you don’t get to stand here and blame her just ‘cause you’re pissed. now, get the hell back.”

shane’s gaze flickered between you and daryl, and for a second, it looked like he might actually swing at him. but something in daryl’s stance, the unflinching intensity in his eyes, seemed to give shane pause. he took a step back, though his expression stayed hard. “whatever,” he muttered, turning away and spitting on the ground. “just don’t come cryin’ to me when she screws up again.”

as shane stalked off, daryl turned back to you, his expression softening as he saw the tears still on your cheeks. “you alright?” he asked, his voice gentler now, but the tension in his jaw remained, his hand twitching like he was fighting the urge to go after shane again.

you nodded, but a fresh wave of tears escaped, and you quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. “i’m fine,” you whispered, though your voice was shaky. “just didn’t expect him to… i don’t know, freak out like that.”

“ain’t your fault,” daryl said firmly, his voice steady as he took a step closer. “he’s just lookin’ for someone to blame ‘cause he’s got his own shit he don’t wanna deal with.” his gaze flicked over your face, taking in the redness around your eyes, the way you were still trembling slightly. “c’mon,” he murmured, his hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your collarbone in a comforting gesture. “let’s get outta here. ain’t no point stickin’ around when he’s all riled up.”

you nodded again, still processing the fact that daryl had jumped to your defense so quickly, so fiercely. “thanks,” you said, your voice small as you glanced up at him. “for stepping in like that. you didn’t have to.”

he grunted, his gaze flicking away like he was uncomfortable with the gratitude. “didn’t do it for you to thank me,” he mumbled, his hand slipping from your shoulder as he turned to lead you away. “just don’t like seein’ him treatin’ you like that.”

his protectiveness left a warm, confusing feeling in your chest. it wasn’t often daryl showed that side of himself - he usually kept his emotions locked down tight, rarely letting anyone get a glimpse of what was going on behind those stormy eyes. but in that moment, he’d been so unwavering, like there was no question that he would put himself between you and shane’s anger.

“still,” you murmured as you fell into step beside him, “it means a lot. i don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

he huffed, a faint smirk pulling at his lips. “woulda been just fine,” he said, glancing over at you. “you’re tougher than you think.”

“well, guess you’re my knight in shining armor now,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

daryl shook his head with a gruff chuckle. “don’t start with that shit,” he grumbled, but the small, rare smile on his lips took the edge off his words. “just lookin’ out for ya, that’s all.”

“well, whatever the reason, i’m glad you did,” you replied, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “because i sure wasn’t winning that argument.”

he glanced down at your hand on his arm, then back up to meet your gaze. “don’t worry ‘bout him,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “he’ll get over it. and if he don’t, i’ll make sure he does.”

the quiet promise in his words sent a shiver down your spine, but not from fear. it was a different kind of feeling entirely, a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something you hadn’t quite let yourself acknowledge before now.

as you continued walking together, you realized that shane’s words, harsh as they’d been, were fading into the background. all that mattered was the man beside you. the one who had stood up for you without hesitation, who had shown you a side of himself you hadn’t expected but were grateful for all the same.

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[bloodlineslut]

Birthday Party | Jimmy Uso

Images/GIFs aren’t mine, credits to rightful owners.

Pairings: Jimmy Uso x black! OC

Warnings: none just fluff, drinking

Summary: Jimmy and his wife Alexis are going to Jey’s house to celebrate the twins’ birthday, and the night is more fun than they could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Not me writing for one of the twins?? I changed it up fr. Writing Jimmy is so funny to me because I can literally hear his voice in my head saying the words

“Baby, can you please hurry up? We gon’ be late!” Alexis heard Jimmy’s voice from the other side of the wall.

They were getting ready to head to Jey’s house for the twins’ birthday party and Alexis wanted to make sure her makeup came out perfect. They had all ate brunch together earlier with Jey and his wife, and Roman and his wife. But this time, all of their friends and family were going to be there.

“Babe, I just need like 5 more minutes!” Alexis called back out as she was halfway done with placing her lash clusters on her second eye.

He better be glad she was already dressed. She wanted to be more casual but still steppin’ out, so she picked out a white tank top with baggy jeans, a black NY cap, and some black pointed toe heels.

“Yea, you said that 5 minutes ag-” Jimmy stopped in his tracks as he walked in their master bathroom.

Alexis paused and looked over at him, smiling.

“Damn girl! You look good.” He said dramatically rubbing his hands together, walking closer to Alexis.

He wrapped his strong arms adorned with Samoan tribal tattoos around her waist and nuzzled into her neck.

Alexis’ smile deepened and she tried to pull away from him so she could finish her makeup faster. “Babe stop! I’m forreal almost done.”

But Jimmy wouldn’t let her go. “You smell good too. Aye, what you think about if we just stay home?” His hand was travelling down south to softly grab her ass.

Alexis slightly turns her head toward him, putting on blush. “I know you lyin’. I did not spend 2 hours on all of this just for you to mess it up, boo.” She motioned to her outfit, hair, and makeup.

Jimmy playfully smacked his teeth and pulled away. “Aight. But you know the party start at 10:00 and it’s 10:30?” He tells her as he sees Jey calling him, again.

“Man, that’s Alexis making us late.” He greets his twin brother as he leaves the bathroom. Alexis just rolls her eyes and laughs.

After another actual 5 minutes, she’s finally done with her look. She leaves her scattered makeup on the bathroom counter, noting that she’ll clean it tomorrow.

She grabbed her phone off of the bed and walked into the living room, seeing Jey standing by the door.

“Wow, thank you God! She’s done!” Jimmy says when she enters the room.

“Boy hush. And you’re supposed to be late to a party, anyway.” Alexis responds, grabbing her black purse and they both walk out of the front door to the car.

Jimmy opens the passenger car door for Alexis before walking around to the driver’s side so they can be on their way.

Jey’s house was about 10 minutes away, so Jimmy was trying to find a good hype song to play for the short drive. He couldn’t find one he liked that fit the birthday mood, so Alexis took his phone with a song idea in mind.

“Hold on babe, I got you.” She tells him. She knows he likes Lil Wayne, and she quickly finds Right Above It with Lil Wayne and Drake.

Jimmy hears the horns at the beginning and immediately recognizes the song. “Oh damn babe, okay! What you know about this?” He glances at her, smiling.

Alexis giggles and just turns the music damn near to 100 volume.

Now tell me how you love it

You know you at the top when only Heaven’s right above it

We on

It’s Young Money motherfucker

If you ain’t runnin’ with it, run from it motherfucker, alright

Now somebody show some money in this bitch

And I got my B’s with me like some honey in this bitch, ya dig

I got my gun in my boot purse

And I don’t bust back because I shoot first

Jimmy and Alexis rap all the lyrics, as they pull up to Jey’s house. Alexis reaches to turn down the volume a bit so they can hear each other talk.

“Damn, everybody and they momma here!” Jimmy says, seeing all the cars in the driveway, and on the side of the street. He just decides to park behind Roman’s car on the side of the street.

He puts the car in park and turns the ignition off, then walks to Alexis and opens the car door for her.

“Thank you honey bun,” She sweetly says to him before puckering her lips for a kiss.

“I got you girl.” Jimmy says after kissing her. They hold hands as they walk up to the front door and open it.

As soon as they open it, their ears are met with rap music and eyes are met with strobe lights.

“Jimmy!” Everyone around them yells out, people dapping him up and patting his back, wishing him a happy birthday.

Alexis smiles and keeps her eye out for anyone that she knows. She sees one of the Bella twins, but couldn’t tell if it was Brie or Nikki.

She walks over to her and seeing her up close, it was Nikki. “Alexis! Hey gorgeous!” Nikki says, giving her a hug.

“Hey sexy.” Alexis cheekily says back to her.

“You want a drink? I’m trying to get in Brie mode.” Nikki asks, holding her red solo cup that’s filled with God knows what.

“Ugh yes please.” Alexis sighs and Nikki grabs her hand and leads them both to the kitchen where the liquor/seltzers, soda, and juice was.

Nikki was a pro at making anything containing liquor; margaritas, daquiris, you name it.

Alexis just watched her, looking up ever so often, when she saw Jimmy, Jey, and Roman with glow in the dark glasses, necklaces, and rings.

“Oh my gosh…” She says lowly.

“It’s just us uce! We the ones!” Jimmy shouts out, while Jey and Roman hype him up.

“Yea girl, you’re gonna need this.” Nikki hands Alexis her newly made drink. Alexis downs half of it.

“Aye there go my wife!” Jimmy, somehow already tipsy, says pointing at Alexis.

All three men walk over to Alexis and Nikki. Jey is the first to hug her, then Roman.

“How ya’ll doin? Ya’ll doin good? Aye, the DJ is taking requests by the way!” Jey shouts over the music, his words slurring a little. The most sober out of the three seemed to be Roman. Nikki and Alexis looked at him, cocking an eyebrow.

Roman just shakes his head in defeat. “Jey’s been pregaming all day.”

Jimmy was about to drink on his mixed concoction, but Alexis took the cup from him. “Babe don’t drink so fast or you’ll have a hangover.” She pours it down the sink.

Jimmy smacks his teeth. “Alexis, it’s my birthday baby.”

“You’ll thank me later. Let’s go dance!” She grabs his hand and they all go to where there’s a hole in the crowd.

What’s Your Fantasy by Ludacris was playing and Alexis started dancing on Jimmy.

As she danced, she looked around, noting all the people she had either met or were friends with.

They were mostly friends of Jimmy, Jey, and Roman who were also in WWE.

The DJ got on the mic, interrupting the music. “Aye everybody! Let’s wish the twins, Jey and Jimmy a happy birthday one mo’ time!”

Everybody in the house says, “Happy Birthday!” The twins go to the DJ and he hands them the mic.

“Yo, thank you to everybody that’s here. We love you guys!” Jimmy says to everyone.

“Yea! And ya’ll need to drink! It’s in the kitchen don’t be shy.” Jey says into the mic.

They hand the mic back to the DJ and go back to Alexis, who was talking to Galina and Takecia.

“Takecia yours is the worst.” Galina teases her while they all look at Jey who is getting closer and closer to being fucked up. She just shakes her head.

“Ya’ll want him?” She replies and they all laugh.

Jimmy grabs Alexis and pulls her in so his hands are dangerously low on her waist and her arms wrap around the back of his neck.

They sway to the music and just enjoy each other’s presence.

“I love you babe.” Alexis says so only he can hear it.

“I love you more.” Jimmy sweetly says and kisses her on the forehead.

They partied for about 2 more hours and Jimmy surprisingly listened to Alexis when she told him don’t drink too fast.

Jey was outta there.

Roman had sobered up.

Jimmy was only slightly drunk.

Roman had to help Takecia get Jey up the stairs and to the bed.

“Man that boy gone!” Jimmy says to Alexis and Galina, as more people left, saying goodbye as they did so.

“At least you didn’t get the crazy one.” Galina laughs. “Girl, they both crazy.” This makes Galina laugh harder.

Roman comes back down the stairs, and over to them. “Is he okay?” Alexis asks.

Roman nods. “Yea, Takecia got him for sure. Ya’ll leaving too?”

Alexis nods while Jimmy shakes his head no. She sees it out of the corner of her eye. “Um, boo. I’m driving and we need to shower.”

Jimmy’s shoulders slump, but then he perks up. “And then what we gon’ do?” He says suggestively. He was always a flirty drunk. But only with her.

Alexis rolls her eyes for what feels like the billionth time. “Sleep. Now come on birthday boy.” She grabs his hand and all four of them walk outside to their cars.

“Where did ya’ll park at?” Roman asks.

“Behind you actually.” Alexis responds, walking to Jimmy’s grey Audi.

“Oh okay. It was good seeing you Alexis. Later uce and happy birthday again.” Roman hugs Alexis and then Jimmy.

“Bye Alexis! Text me so we can go out to eat later, okay?” Galina hugs Alexis.

“Okay I will!”

Roman and Galina get in their car and drive off.

Thank God that Jimmy was not too drunk and that he could walk right and everything. She gets in the driver seat and adjusts it and the mirrors.

She felt Jimmy’s hand on her thigh. “I really love you baby. Thank you for everything.” He gently says.

Alexis softly smiles and they both lean over the armrest to meet each other’s lips in a long kiss.

Jimmy pulls away. “Hey, we could get it in right here, these windows tinted.” He playfully bites his bottom lip.

Alexis pauses for a moment. “If you eat when we get home and sober up a little more, I’ll give you your other birthday present.” She winks at him before starting the car up.

“Oh hell yeah!” He claps and Alexis laughs as they drive home.

[alexa-fika]

Claws Down (Thatch x f!cat!reader)

Pt 1

AN Omg guys back to back posts? It had been a hot minuteee since I managed that! Idk what came over me I just came across Claws out and I was like man I have the perfect thing for this plus someone expressed they were interested in so ha perfect! Two birds one stone

Here Reader is replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/drinkthesky and @/firefly-graphics

"Come on, Kitty, Don' look at me like that." Thatch laughed as he continued to chop the carrot in front of him.

"Why am I here." she sneered, pulling at her hands, the restraints clinking against the table as she did

"Why, it's my Kitty Watch."

"I don't need to be watched over like some toddler, and Don't call me that," she snapped back.

"Oh, come on, don't get your feathers ruffled. Besides, you really gave us no choice. We can't have an aggressive stowaway runnin’ around the ship as we sail, much less you, who seem to love tryin’ to claw at people."

"I don't even have my nails out; you guys made sure of that," she growled, gesturing at the sea-stone bracelet that hung on her wrist.

"Ya sent a crewmate to the med bay cause you clawed at him even with that on," he reminded her, snickering as she continued to glare at him.

Why so mad, Kitty?" he teased, sliding his chopped vegetables into a pot as he stirred it.

"I told you to stop calling me that, and you tell me why would I be mad about being stuck with a bunch of sweaty pirates cuffed to the damn counter?"

"Gee," he said as he scooped some of the soup into a bowl and put it in front of her.

"Here I am making your food, and you're just being mean to me, and besides, Marco warned ya that if ya hurt someone, the cuffs go back on; it's not on me," he pouts.

She rolled her eyes and sent him a mocking smile as she put her restraints up and jiggled them.

"You goin’ to be nice?" he asked as he made his way around the counter, taking a key from his pocket.

"Just get them out."

He shook his head but did as she asked, pulling the restraints off her with a slight 'clink.'

"Finally," she huffed, turning back to the plate in front of her, grabbing the spoon provided, and beginning to eat slowly.

"See, I knew you would come aroun’, Kitty!" he said, sitting on the stool beside her.

She simply glanced at him, taking him in, analyzing him as her hold on the utensil tightened.

"Kitty..." He warned

She looked up at him with a slight glare and lunged at him, smashing the spoon against his hand.

He let out a hiss at the action but quickly extended his other hand to catch the fleeing girl and dodging her attempt at clawing his face off.

"Now wait a cotton pickin’ minute, Little Lady, I thought we were making progress," he said, pulling her back first into his chest as he held both of her wrists in a hugging fashion as she attempted to dig her nails into him, much like their first encounter.

"Like hell we are," she cried struggling against his hold, quickly realizing she was no match for him in strength, so she changed her tactic, digging her heel into his.

"Whoa there," he called as he avoided her stomping attempts ad he quickly wrapped one of his legs against hers, trapping them against the stool he sat on.

"You insufferable fucking hair for brains," she wailed as she tried to buck him off as he struggled to keep her restrained against him.

This continued for a while until she eventually tired herself out, and only the sound of their heavy breathing echoed in the kitchen.

"Ya done with the hissy fit?" he muttered.

"Let me go."

"Please, just don't try to run away again."

"Or what, you will cuff me again?" she glumly replied.

"Again, Kitty, we don't want to; in fact, we wouldn't mind havin’ a stowaway walkin’ around; we've had a few, and they are free to roam around. The reason you have restraints is because you keep hurtin’ my brothers; you will hurt yourself, too, eventually," he explains, looking down at her.

"If you can promise to stop hurtin’ them and doing reckless stuff, ya’ are free to roam aroun’," he finishes.

"If that is the problem, why did you stop me from leaving the first day you saw me?"

"Because ya were going to steal our boat!" he exclaimed baffled.

"Oh please, you guys can handle missing one junior boat" she called, rolling her eyes.

"It aint about that; it's about the principle!" he cries.

"You're pirates!"

"Listen, just promise ya won't hurt anyone or steal from us and ya are free to go." He pleads

"Fine," she hollered, stumbling her way up as he suddenly released her. She turned back to glare at the man, who stared back at her with an innocent look on his face.

"For now," she added, much to his disappointment.

"I'm sorry, kitty, but if ya hurt someone, the cuffs are coming back on," he warned, shaking said restraints in the air

“So mind your P’s and Q’s darlin”

"And the sea stone?" she questions

"Sorry, that stays kitty. Like I said, you have already sent a couple of my brothers to the clinic with scratches without the seastone, so we can't risk letting your Claws out."

She let out a grumble but left it at that, glancing at the counter.

Thatch notices her stare, and he grins as he realizes what she had set her sights on

"So ya did like the soup!" he grinned.

"Shut up, don't let it get to your head. I just haven't had a decent meal in a while," she snapped as she climbed back to the stool and resumed eating.

"Don't worry about tha’." he smiles, leaning against his hand and watching her gulp the soup down.

"We will keep you well fed here, even if only until our next stop; you will not go hungry."

She paused her eating to look at him, mouth agape, only to shake it moments later and continue her previous task.

"Thank you."

"Na problem, Kitty."

"Stop calling me that."

"Awe come on!"

What we thinking? When I was writing this it gave me the idea that maybe I could do a chapter for each member, thoughts?

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@acpola01

[nina-renmen]

You’re Mine

Yandere Price x black reader soulmate au pt.2

pt.1 pt.3

Warnings⚠️: Yandere themes, blood, gore, empty threats, death, parents wanting reader to date within her race, family issues, profanity

summary: Y/n gets back from her mission but price is suspicious of her and catches on to her avoidance

“Stop nagging me.” Y/n barked out, turning away from her teammate as she prepared her dinner. A month had gone by, and soap was still nagging her.

“Not until you tell me why.” Soap huffed.

“Soap, stop-“

“You know, not everyone gets the chance to meet their soulmate.

”Soap-“

This is the chance of a lifetime!”

“I said stop!!”

Soaps voice died down. Your voice echoing throughout the halls. “Y/n?”

“I’m scared…” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What if he’s not the man I need? What if my family doesn’t approve?”

“Y/n, why wouldn’t your family approve? I mean…sure he’s about a decade older than you but…” Soap trailed off, you were right. You would be his controversially young soulmate.

“Not just that…my family. My family wants me to marry inside my culture. Bringing him home would-“

“How do you know?” Soap cut you off. His form looking over yours. “They make hints at it, the one time I came over with a-“

“But they haven’t said it outright. Y/n I know your family. You’re thinking too much about this. They just want you to meet someone. Yes, preferably someone that’s in your ethnicity but it’s not a requirement.” Soap out his hand in your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Talk to the captain. I’m sure price would be enthusiastic-“

“Enthusiastic about what?”

Y/n’s face paled. The two were facing the counter. The man behind them could only see the back of their heads.

Soap looked down at y/n. She vigorously shook her head no making the males shoulder drop. “We’ll com’on, what this thing going on between you two? You’ve been runnin around like headless chickens for the past mon.” Prices gruff voice reached the females’ ears.

Y/n turned around, soap followed. Prices gaze locked onto the female. He never noticed the colors in her hair before. It brought out her skin tone. “You look like you’re gonna hurl sergent.” Price commented, folding his arms over his chest. Y/n only shook her head opting to leave the room “oh no you don’t, my office. Now.” Price barked out orders. “I’m tired of you avoiding me. We need to sort this out.”

“Captin, I don’t think-“

“Don’t wanna hear it soap.” Price cut off the shorter male. Johnny casted y/n an apologetic look as y/n hesitantly walked past him. Price shot Johnny a glare before following after you.

Entering his office Price could see you settling inside. Or…maybe not since you were so stiff. You stood off to the side, hands clasped and a blank expression on your face. Y/n’s colored eyes followed his every steps like a predator.

“Have a seat.” Price said as he walked around his desk, sitting in his chair. With careful, hesitant steps y/n sat in front of his desk. Her muscles were tight, hands in her lap. As if she was a rookie once more, standing in front of a yelling sergent.

“You’ve been avoiding me y/n. Every time you see me you go the other way. What’s up with that?” Price asked, leaning back in his chair.

No answer from y/n.

“Look, I get you’re anxious but I can’t have someone on my team if they can’t even communicate with their captain.” Annoyance was evident in Prices voice. But he couldn’t be mad at you. For some reason he kept thinking about you late at night. He had to remind himself that he had a soulmate, he wouldn’t end up like his parents.

Still no answer from y/n.

Price was starting to get frustrated. “Look sweetheart,” Price chuckled, trying to simmer the frustration. He noticed y/n’s gaze on his lips, her eyes softened, her shoulders loosening ever so slightly. Price continued to speak “I don’t think this team is right for y-“

“You should smile more….Its cute.” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper, but her voice still reached Prices ears. Almost immediately the room quieted. A burning sensation was on John’s arm. “What did you say-“

“I’ll see myself out captain.” Y/n stood up, the chair behind her almost falling over. “I’ll ask Laswell to switch me to another team. Have a good night.”

John felt like he couldn’t breathe. You? You were his soulmate? For once in his life he was glad about soulmate privileges within the rules. The regulations let soldiers get intimate with eachother as long as they could prove they were soulmates. “Y/n wait! I didn’t know-“ The sound of the door closing cut off the older male, snapping him out of his daze.

With quick steps he opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. You weren’t there causing John to close his office door and search for you. His heart pounding in his chest, he wished he hadn’t chewed you out. He wished he hadn’t made empty threats towards you. He just wanted you to talk.

After an hour of searching for you he began to get frustrated. Why couldn’t he find you?! “Ghost.” Price called out, causing the taller male to look up from whatever he was doing on his phone.

“Where’s Cobra?” He asked in a rushed tone.

“Soaps room.” Ghost said before looking back down at his phone. John’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned on his heel. Why the fuck were you in soaps room. Jealousy swirled in John’s chest like a festering blister.

Price knocked on Soaps door. Within a couple of seconds Soap opened the door just enough so John could see him. “Where is she?” Price asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Where’s who?” Soap questioned, playing dumb.

“I’m not fuckin stupid Johnny, I know she’s in here-“

“With all due respect captin’ she doesn’t want to talk with you-“

“As her soulmate I have the right to talk with her. Open the door Soap. That’s an order.”

The area became quiet. Soap glancing in a random direction in his room. The sound of soft, padded footsteps came from behind the door. “It’s okay Johnny.” Y/n whispered, making Soaps harsh grip on the door knob loosen. The door slowly opened to see y/n standing next to Soap.

The bare expression on y/n’s face seemed broken. She looked away from Price. “I want to talk….privately.” Price’s voice was softer than it was with Johnny. Soap casted y/n a glance as if encouraging her to go on. “Alright….fine.”

The walk to his office was…awkward. Y/n kept her distance from Price. But as soon as the door to his office closed Price spoke up. Y/n’s back was turned to him as she wrapped her arms around her midsection.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Price asked. His back leaning up against the closed door. “You made me believe….”

“I was worried.” Y/n spoke up. Turning around to look at him. She looked as if she were about to cry. Her eyes glossy as she looked down at the floor. “What could you possibly be worried about?” Price questioned as he closed the distance between the two of you. “Look up at me.”

When you didn’t look up at him Price hooked his fingers under your chin. Pulling your face up to look at him. “I’m not here as your captain. I’m not even here as a damn friend. I’m here as a lover. So don’t give me a bullshit excuse.” Prices voice was barely above a whisper. As if speaking too loud would scare you away.

“My family…I mean…the age gap between us is..” Y/n trailed off.

“We’re both adults y/n. There ain’t nothin wrong with that. Whatever they have to say they can keep it to themselves.” Price said.

“It’s not just that…My family wants me to marry in my culture-“

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding sweetheart.” Price said as he moved your hair out of your face.

“No….You don’t get it. I can’t loose my family over this.” Y/n said.

“Would you choose your family over me?” Price asked, forcing y/n to look up at him. Y/n didn’t respond at first. “Well? Would you?”

“Yes….yes I would.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[writing-until-i-drop]

What's In A Name? Chapter Six

Meg Harding and Kate Carter were inseparable until their friends died five ago, then she ran to New Orleans to save lives as a paramedic. But when Javi calls on his two oldest friends to help him collect data, counting on their matching natural instincts for tornadoes, Meg goes home for the first time in years. That's where she meets Tyler and the rest of the Wranglers, the YouTube storm chasers her dad likes to watch, and finds herself fitting in more with them than with Storm PAR. Meg only plans to stay for the week but will it be easy to leave when the dust settles?

If a certain cowboy has a say in it, nothing about leaving is going to be easy.

A/N: Cathy's not playing fair

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

“Meggy Harding, you are a sight for sore eyes,” Cathy Carter called coming from the direction of the old barn. “Come here, honey,” Meg hurried down the porch to meet her on the lawn, letting herself be swept up into one of Cathy’s strong hugs. “You’re getting skinny, have you been taking care of yourself?” 

“Been tryin’ to,” Meg let her second mom place kisses all over her face. “But I’ve been busy.” Cathy pinched her cheek, giving her a playful glare.

“Well, I’ll cook up a big dinner. You here for Kate?” 

“Always,” Meg tipped her head back to where Tyler remained on the porch, “And I brought a friend just in case my boot up her ass ain’t enough.” Cathy’s gaze shifted over Meg’s shoulder and the older woman perked up,

“Honey, he’s cute,” She said less than stealthily, wiggling her brows. “He your boyfriend?”

“Cathy, please,” Meg whined, tugging on Cathy’s arm. “Please be the one adult in my life actin’ normal about this man.” 

“Fine, fine, I’m on my best behavior.” She messed Meg’s hair, moving past her towards the porch. “And who might you be, honey?” 

“Tyler Owens, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, especially since you brought Meggy here to see me,” Tyler’s smile was big and bright. He was every parent’s dream, standing there all handsome, every sentence coming out of his mouth starting or ending with “ma’am.” 

Meg abandoned them, wandering off to the barn where she found Kate watching her old science project make a tornado. 

“Never gets any less impressive, Katie my Lady.” Kate glanced over her shoulder with a sad smile.

“Never thought we’d be back in the barn,” Kate’s accent was a little more pronounced, heavy with emotion. “Mom never cleaned it out,” Meg looked around, taking in the plastic covered tables. Without lifting the sheets, Meg knew what was beneath each one. All of Kate’s research, Addy’s drawings, Jeb’s cameras, and my binder filled with diagrams of the human body and notes on everything that could go wrong with it. The plan back then had been to become a doctor, Meg hadn’t thought about that dream in a long time. 

“We left a lot of things unfinished,” 

“Wonder why.” Kate clicked off the simulator, leaning back against the table. “What are you doing here, Meg?” 

“I smacked Javi, Tyler stopped me before I could hit him for real.” Kate chuckled, running a hand down her face. “We didn’t kill them, Kate.” 

“I’m going back to New York,” Meg sighed. If Kate ran again, there was no getting her back, she knew that. “Don’t try and stop me.” 

“We gotta do something, Katie, and runnin’s not an option anymore.” Kate’s response was cut off by Cathy and Tyler strolling into the barn, laughing to themselves. 

“You brought Tyler?” Kate snapped, angry. Meg’s temper spiked back,

“What was I supposed to do, steal his truck?” Kate flinched, “Not everything can be solved by runnin’, Kate, sometimes you’ve gotta chase.” 

“Well, maybe I don’t want to!” Kate shouted, tears streaming down her face, “Not everyone’s okay with the people they love-”

“Kate, go set the table,” Cathy shouted over them both, “Meg, cool off.” Dying. That was the word Kate was going to use and even though Cathy had stopped her, Meg heard it all the same. Kate saw Meg accepting what had happened to their friends as her not caring? It was like a punch to the gut, Meg physically faltering where she stood. Cathy took off after Kate, who rushed out of the barn, sobbing, and Tyler crossed the room to her. 

“I’m fine,” She was not fine. “We just,” Tyler wiped away her tears with his sleeve, concern evident on his face. “This barn brings up a lot of memories.” Tyler took a good look around, “Kate’s havin’ a hard time dealing with that.” 

“Just Kate?” Meg snorted, pulling her hair out of its ponytail. “Going to be honest, darlin’, didn’t think I’d walk in here to find you two arguing.” 

“Yeah, well, we’ve known each other for a decade and I’m pretty sure that was our first,” Meg shook her head. “God fucking dammit, I never shoulda left New Orleans.” 

“Hey, hey, hey, no need for that,” Tyler smoothed her bangs back, kissing her forehead. “Friends fight. Boone and I get into it all the time, you two will be okay.” Meg wrapped her arms around Tyler’s waist, resting her head against his chest. “I promise, darlin’, everything’s going to be okay.” 

“It’s not, Ty, you can be as charmin’ as you like but I’ve got to help Javi finish getting his data and go home. It’s the only helpful thing I can do while I’m here.” 

“About that…” Tyler stroked her back and Meg’s stomach dropped.

“He’s not helping people…is he?” Tyler began to fill her in on all the dirty details of Storm PAR’s involvement with Marshall Riggs and how they took advantage of people in distress to fund their research. All her earlier fight left her body with a great sigh, broken defeat replacing it. “That’s it, I’m going home.” Meg tried to pull away but Tyler held her tight, “Ty.”

“I thought you said running wasn’t an option,” 

“Then call me a fuckin’ hypocrite and take me to the airport.” Meg pushed one more time but Tyler still didn’t budge. “You can’t hug me until I change my mind, Ty, it’s not gonna work.”

“Darlin’,” Tyler kissed her forehead again. “If you still feel that way in the morning, I’ll take you to the airport.” Meg expected to feel relieved but instead, she felt even more dejected.

“How’s it going in here?” Cathy came back through the doors, “You cooled down enough for dinner, Meggy?”

“I’m goin’ home tomorrow,” Tyler finally let her pull away, only for Cathy to take Meg’s face in her hands. A disapproving look on her face.

“Unless you’re talking about visiting your mama, I don’t want to hear it, honey.” She opened her mouth to argue but Cathy steamrolled right over her. “What you’re going to do is eat some dinner and get some sleep, then you’re going to finish putting your boot up my daughter’s ass and finish what all of you started. Do you hear me, young lady?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Cathy turned her gaze to Tyler, pointing at him,

“And you, she tries to run, you stop her.” 

“Already on it, ma’am.” 

“Good, knew I liked you. Now come on, let’s eat.” 

It took less than a minute being back in each other’s presence for the girls to make up, throwing themselves at each other. Hugging and tearfully apologizing to each other, much to Cathy’s amusement and Tyler’s visible relief. Besides her great aunt Meg’s cooking, Cathy’s cooking was Meg’s favorite, and Cathy kept scooping more food onto her plate until she was ready to burst. 

Then the stories started, Cathy was hell-bent on embarrassing both girls and Tyler was all ears, teasing them both. His hand was resting on Meg’s knee, tethering her to him like a lifeline. Things soured quickly the second Cathy brought up their old project, Kate storming off in the most polite way possible. 

“Tyler, why don’t you go read through their old research, it’s in the white binder with the cloud on it.” 

“I don’t want to push my luck with your daughter ma’am.” Meg patted his thigh, giving him the silent approval, “If you’re sure.” 

“Come on, honey, I’ll wash, you dry.” 

Meg turned on some 90s country music on her phone to fill the silence while they washed the dinner plates, Cathy was the one to break the silence.

“He seems like a good man, Meggy.” Cathy handed her a dish to dry.

“He is,” She agreed. “Don’t tell me my dad’s got you bettin’ on my wedding too.” Cathy gave a little shrug, failing to fight a smile. “Busy bodies, I swear.” 

“What? You expect us to see you with a cowboy gentleman, who seems to love storms as much as you do, and not hear wedding bells?” Meg groaned, taking another plate to dry. 

“At least tell me you’re not in on Rabbit’s pool.” The silence was deafening, “Cathy!” 

“Well, there is only one bed in the guest room.” She didn’t know who she wanted to strangle first, Cathy or Rabbit. “And you and Kate shouldn’t be sharing a twin bed, the guest room has a full.” 

“You’re killin’ me. So, when I wasn’t looking you pulled my bag outta Kate’s room and put it with Tyler’s? Is that what you’re tellin’ me?” 

“I’ve got a hundred bucks on it happening before the end of storm season and no one said I had to play fair.” 

“Dirty, no good cheater,” Meg mumbled. They then settled into silence again, finishing the rest of the dishes.

“Has Kate been chasing again? She said she wasn’t.” Meg hummed, drying off the last dish and putting it away in the cabinet.

“Javi asked us to come down and help him collect data.” God, things had seemed so much simpler only a few days ago. “So, yeah, we’ve been out chasin’ again.” 

“I’m proud of you for coming back, Meggy, proud of all of you.” Meg leaned against the counter, staring up at the ceiling. There was a red mark in the center from where Parveen had eaten a Babybel Cheese, rolled the wax into a ball, and tossed it around. The little wax ball had stuck to the ceiling, the wax never fully coming off.

“I don’t know if I’m back yet, Cathy.” She tossed the dish rag over her shoulder with a sigh. “I want to help people and as much as I love chasin’, it ain’t as helpful as my job back in New Orleans. Those people,” She thought of the last patient she had transported before leaving. A ninety-year-old woman with chest pains, she had told Meg her whole life story in the back of the rig. She wasn’t scared of dying, no, June Bishop was perfectly content. Miss June had lived a long life, she had gotten married young and had three sons, all of whom went to serve in the military, she had lost everything in Katrina like so many others, and had lived long enough to see all of her grandchildren, and one great-grandchild born. Meg had held her hand the whole way to the hospital. “Those people I can help in a tangible way. I mean, if Kate,” Tears pricked her dry eyes. “If we could finish what we started, I think that’s the only thing besides a funeral that could get me to come back.” 

Cathy gathered her up in a hug, both of them leaning against the counter. After some time passed, Kate came down from her room, and without a word she joined them in the embrace. A little while later, Meg shot off a text to Lily.

Meg: How’s everything going?

Lily: Boone’s a bit butt hurt but he’ll get over it - you?

Meg: Touch and go

Tyler seemed surprised to find Meg brushing her teeth in the bathroom attached to the spare bedroom when she spotted him in the mirror. 

“Not that I’m complaining but I figured you’d be sharing a bed with Kate,” Tyler leaned against the door jamb of the bathroom and there was something so domestic about the whole situation that caught Meg off guard. She’d had plenty of boyfriends over the years, none lasting more than a month before either she got tired of them or they got tired of her. Sleepovers with men weren’t something she was used to though, even in a relationship she liked to sleep alone, kicking her dates out at the end of the night.

“I did too,” She replied after spitting and rinsing her mouth. “I’ve got to wash my face if you want to get changed.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” He closed the door and when he was done, opened it again, watching her dry her face with a soft, pink towel. “Are you okay with the sleeping arrangements, darlin’, or should I take the couch?” 

“I’m fine if you are, I am going to give Cathy an earful for it in the morning though.” Tyler followed her to the bed, claiming the side closest to the door. 

“Sounds like there’s more to it than a lumpy couch.” 

“Oh, there is,” Meg huffed, relaxing into the pillows, breathing in the scent of air-dried laundry. “My family’s got all sorts of bets running on us and Cathy’s bein’ a cheat.” Tyler shifted onto his side and she could feel his eyes on her while she stared at the ceiling. 

“Bets that involve us sharing a bed?” 

“Yes, sir,” She drawled sarcastically, turning off the lamp on her side of the bed. “It’s embarrassin’.” 

“Well,” Tyler sighed, “I think if I’m being bet on, I should know what for.” Why? Meg closed her eyes. Why was her family like this?

“They bet on how long, Jesus Christ,” She took a deep breath, “They bet on how long it would take me to, and I quote, ride the cowboy.” Tyler, thank God, didn’t say anything but he did chuckle and she could feel his eyes on her. Meg wanted the bed to open up and swallow her whole, her face burning with embarrassment.

“And the other bet?” Meg took another long, deep breath before answering.

“They’re bettin’ on us getting married, Arkansas,” She flipped to face away from him. “Now go to sleep.” Tyler’s hand gripped her waist, flipping her to her other side so they were face to face. “I’m not talking about this, Ty.” 

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” He squeezed her hip, giving her a soft smile that made her heart beat like crazy. He was backlit by the lamp on his side of the bed, a soft, yellow light highlighting him in an angelic way. “You scrunch your nose like this,” He imitated her and he looked adorable. Meg giggled, bopping his nose.

“Stop, I’m trying to be mad and you actin’ sweet ain’t helping.” He shrugged,

“Well excuse me for not wanting my girl to be mad.” His girl. Those words weighed on her chest like a cat curling in for a nap, warm and comforting. 

“You are taking this whole thing about my family bettin’ on us having sex and getting married a little too well,” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you not sayin’?” He blushed, rubbing circles into her hip with his thumb. “Tyler I-don’t-know-your-middle-name-Owens, tell me.” 

“Michael,” He muttered. Meg tilted his head up with two fingers under his chin. “That’s my middle name.” 

“And mine’s Marie, now spill it.” 

“There may or may not be a similar bet going with the group,” Of course there was. 

“Bet, as in singular?” He nodded, “Which one do they have goin’?” Tyler’s blush deepened.

“Well, darlin’,” Tyler sighed, smiling sweetly. “Boone’s been planning our wedding since you tried to pool the wool over my eyes when we first met.” He cupped her face and she mirrored him, her hand resting on his cheek. “So they’re betting on the other part.” There were two ways Meg could go with this conversation, serious or teasing, and she’d be damned if she did anything serious while wearing Kate’s Hello Kitty sleep pants from high school.

“Well,” Meg stroked Tyler’s stubbled cheek. “Tell Boone I want an October weddin’ and he’s welcome at it whether you’re there or not.” Tyler shook with laughter, tugging her so she was head first in his chest like they had slept the night before.

“Oh, I’m gonna be there, darlin’,” He kissed the top of her head. “Crying while your daddy walks you down the aisle to me.” So much for avoiding serious conversation. Meg expected to feel a sense of fear or at least anxiety thinking about marrying Tyler but instead, she found herself smiling. His cologne was lingering on his sleep shirt and he was oh so warm wrapped around her. She could see him standing at the altar all dressed up in a suit and tie, Boone behind him as best man, and Preacher beside him ready to officiate like he had promised to when she was little.

“Boone share any of these wedding plans with you?” Meg slipped her leg between his, bringing herself just a little bit closer to him. “Tell me everything.” Tyler began stroking her back.

“He wants to do it outside, said he thinks you’d like to be where you can see the sky.” Boone knew her well, that’s exactly how she wanted to get married, not inside of some stuffy church. “Dani’s picking out dresses she and Lily won’t mind wearing as your bridesmaids, they’ve got one for Kate too.” 

“Sounds like they’ve got the whole thing planned out. Lily in charge of the rings?” 

“Yes, ma’am. They even roped Ben into picking out table settings and invitations, he complains but is secretly over the moon.” Tyler’s hand moved to her hair, massaging her neck. Meg groaned, not realizing how much tension had been lingering there until that exact moment.

“That feels good, Ty.” She felt herself getting sleepier, relaxing more into Tyler’s hold with each passing moment. “Keep tellin’ me about our wedding.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” He kissed her hair again. “The biggest argument is what kind of flowers to get. Boone’s a romantic so he wants roses.” That made her giggle,

“Why ain’t I surprised?” 

“Shh, baby,” Tyler teased, kissing her hair again. “You’re supposed to be falling asleep.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Arkansas,” Meg sassed half-heartedly. Tyler’s ministrations paused for a moment before he gently pulled her head back by her hair. He was fixing her with one of those listen-to-me looks she’d seen on her mama’s face a thousand times before, his eyes the color of greenage before a big storm. Staring into them, she wondered if her favorite color had ever truly been yellow, or if it had been green all along and she just hadn’t found the right shade until now. 

“Darlin’,” His fingers tightened their grip just a little, giving Meg a jolt of pain that only brought pleasure. “Will you please hush that pretty little mouth of yours and let me talk?” She wanted to sass him again, see what he would do but when she opened her mouth nothing but a yawn came out. He must’ve taken that as a yes, bringing her face back into his chest. He was lucky he was cute enough to get away with manhandling her like that. “Dani’s vote is on sunflowers but Ben and Lily think that lilies would be better.” Meg made an inquisitive noise, wanting to know what Tyler thought. “I’ve got a soft spot for wildflowers, especially daisies. My mama used to keep a vase of them on the counter next to the window.” Meg snaked a hand under the back of his shirt, humming in approval. “I’ll take your freezing hands under my shirt as a yes to the wildflowers.” 

Tyler kept talking about color schemes and Dexter’s thoughts on what to cater for dinner. How Ben had insisted they have live music instead of a DJ and the way Boone wanted to use bandanas as pocket squares, all while Meg drifted off to sleep. 

She woke to her phone ringing, AC/DC’s Highway to Hell breaking the silence of the night. Tyler’s arms were firm around her waist making it hard for her to retrieve the device from the bedside table.

“Hey, Hot Stuff,” She groaned. Tyler didn’t budge from his position curled around her. The man, she was learning, could sleep like the dead. But she would bet he’d be wide awake if she even thought of the word tornado.

“Hey, Honey Buns. How’s the storm hunting?” Nick must’ve been grabbing beignets, she could hear the familiar sounds of Cafe du Monde in the background in the late hours of the night.

“It’s good,” She decided to keep the life and death details to herself for now, not in the right mindset for a lecture. “How’s my baby, you treatin’ her right?” 

“She’s purrin’ like a cougar in a college bar.” Meg chuckled, “Hadn’t heard from ya so I thought I’d check in. Cecilia misses you something awful.” Cecilia was Nick’s wife of seven years, an ER nurse at University Hospital. She and Meg would sometimes get lunch together when their days off aligned but Meg knew who was really missing her. 

“Yeah, I miss you too,” Nick laughed, commenting on her ego. “The storms out here have been crazy.” Just like she predicted, Tyler stirred.

“Storm? Is that Boone?” Meg rolled her eyes, kissing him on the chin.

“It’s just Nick, go back to sleep, Sweetie Pie.” And then he was out like a light, she shook her head at him.

“Meg Marie Harding, you’ve got a man in your bed?” Nick jokingly scolded her like an older brother. “You ain’t supposed to be doin’ that outta wedlock.” 

“Says the man who tried to set me up with that fire fighter who ended up having a wife.” 

“Not my finest moment, I’ll admit,” He chuckled. “Well, Honey Buns, I’ll let you get back to sinnin’.” 

“Meanin’ your order’s ready?” Nick hung up on her without answering and she laughed softly, choosing not to fight against Tyler’s hold, putting the phone under her pillow.

She’d be back in New Orleans soon enough, riding around in the rig with Nick, going wherever dispatch sent them. But for the first time, thinking about her life there didn’t feel right, her heart constricting the point of physical pain.

Meg traced Tyler’s jaw with her fingertips, then his nose, the arch of his brow, and his bottom lip, the pain getting worse with every second. Helping people was her job, one that she loved and felt called to, but the thought of leaving Tyler was breaking her heart.

“Tyler Michael Owens,” She whispered, watching for any signs that he was awake and seeing none. “I think I just might be fallin’ in love with you.” Meg pressed a feathersoft kiss to his lips, it lasted a second, maybe less, but she felt more in that split second than she had with any of the men Nick had set her up with in the past. 

“Again, baby,” Tyler whispered, eyes blinking open. “Please.” He sounded so needy and desperate, matching her own desire for him. Meg didn’t hesitate to brush her lips against his. Tyler tilted his head into the kiss, kissing her soundly, leaving not an ounce of doubt in her mind that she loved him. It had been less than a week but Meg felt like she had known him her entire life. He made her feel safe, comfortable, and seen. The way he held her at night and couldn’t keep his hand off her leg during the day, the way he listened to her like there was no one else around, and most importantly, the way he treated her with kindness and respect. “Nick okay?” Tyler asked once they came up for air, voice raspy.

“He’s fine, just checkin’ on me.” Tyler hummed, giving her a peck on the lips once, twice, three times more. 

“And how are you doing, baby?” 

“Never better,” Meg kissed his chest, snuggling back into what was quickly becoming her favorite sleeping position. 

Taglist: @theforevermorereject @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @sinners-98-world @nerdgirljen @candlejuice @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @football1921 @katiemcrae @emma8895eb @itsdesiree86 Want to be added to this list? Just ask!

Next Chapter

[hikari-kaitou]

Translation from Gyakuten Saiban Fan Book

What sort of person is Miles Edgeworth?!

Phoenix's best friend and rival, Edgeworth, has gained a reputation among fans throughout the trilogy of being a man who carefully hides the chinks in his armor. Mr. Inaba and Mr. Iwamoto seem to have rather different opinions on the finer points of his character.

Mr. Inaba's comments

Interviewer: What blood type do you think Edgeworth is? (T/N: in Japan, it's believed that blood type reflects a person's personality)

Inaba: I happen to think he's type B.

Iv: What gives you that impression?

Ia: It's not so much that I dislike B types as I find them intimidating. They seem strong and I feel like I can't stand up to them.  I think good-natured people can generally be found in the O type category (lol).

Iv: By the way, what type are you, Mr. Inaba?

Ia: I'm a meticulous, cleanliness-loving A type Virgo. Also, I think Franziska is an A type like me. On the outside, we look like punks, but we have a fragile side that comes out looking a bit crybaby-ish sometimes. Kinda cute, don't you think?

Iv: Actually, most players seem to feel that Edgeworth is an A type Virgo (lol). So how about his birthday?

Ia: In the winter. I feel like winter suits him.

Iv: What sort of place do you think he lives in?

Ia: Definitely not in an official residence. He seems like he's probably swimming in old heirlooms (lol).

Iv: What sort of hobbies or luxury foods do you think he enjoys?

Ia: I feel like he probably plays some expensive sports and lounges at home in his robe with a glass of wine. My image of him is that he's like a host club host. His lifestyle is like a host's (lol).

Iv: Do you think he listens to music? 

Ia: I feel like if I say he listens to classical, that would make him seem too proper, so… I think he listens to new and old American and European music equally.

Iv: Do you think he has a cellphone?

Ia: He's definitely got one. One with a simple but sleek design.

Iv: And finally, what do you think his type is?

Ia: Hmmm… someone warm, I guess? This is kinda basic, but I feel like he cares more about how someone is on the inside, rather than their appearance, and he probably prioritizes personality. He might be surprisingly disinterested in women. Maybe he'd accidentally treat his partner coldly or something. Oh, I kinda touched on this earlier, but for Franziska, I think she seems like the type who'd be difficult to win over but would fall in love surprisingly easily, so I hope Edgeworth will do his best (lol).

Mr. Iwamoto's comments

Iv: Mr. Inaba said he thinks Edgeworth was born in the winter, and players overwhelmingly agreed with that. What do you think, Iwamoto-san?

Iwamoto: Edgeworth was born in June, just like me who voiced him in the games! And I think he was born in Chiba Prefecture because I was too (lol).

Iv: So from your position as the voice of Edgeworth (lol), what type of place do you think he lives in?

Iw: Either a designer penthouse, or somewhere surprisingly simple, like a place with plain concrete walls. I feel like he lives in an unexpectedly functional apartment. At least more than you might think, based on his frilly outfit.

Iv: So considering the type of room you imagine him living in, what sort of clothes do you think he wears at home?

Iw: Clothes that are out of touch with reality. Like the kinds of things most normal people wouldn't wear, or like… Like he wears silk just because, or instead of a regular shirt, a prince-like blouse. I feel like Manfred Von Karma probably influenced him there, but he dresses more plainly now than he did when he was younger (lol).

Iv: Maybe he started to notice that he didn't quite fit in with others (lol). It might be because of his frilly clothes, but he seems to be in better shape than Wright. Is his build based on your own, Iwamoto-san?

Iw: No way (lol). But I did sneakily make him the same height as myself.

Iv: Since he's in such good shape, do you think he does sports?

Iw: Maybe long distance running. He seems like the type who might go out jogging by himself in silence to "outrun his sins…" (lol)

Iv: What do you think his blood type is?

Iw: B type. I don't really have any real basis for that, he just strikes me as a B type.

Iv: And what do you think Edgeworth's type is? 

Iw: Let's see, maybe someone enthusiastic and passionate? (Lol) Like maybe he likes the kind of person who charges recklessly into things? And that's not just for women but in general the type of person he likes.

Phoenix version

[karmaisakhaleesi]

Ocean Eyes~ Neteyam Sully x fem! older sister of Tsireya! reader

masterlist~

summary~ You are the older sister of Tsireya, and have been ostracised by both your family and Clan from birth. But everyting changes when the family of Toruk Makto seeks uturu with the Metkayina.

sorry i suck at summaries!

warnings~ use of y/n, Ao'nung is a jerk, language, violence, death mentioned, characters aged up to 20's, please lmk if i missed any!

italics are in the future in this chapter and italic dialogue is in Na'vi

wordcount~ 2.3K+

I've been watchin' you for some time, Can't stop starin' at those ocean eyes...

Your hands grasped at the cool metal surface of the now sinking ship, but to no avail. It was slick as oil as you felt an arm yank you up. Nails dug into your skin so deeply you could feel the warmth of blood spreading down your arm.

"Let go of me!" you hiss before being cuffed to a rail.

The man laughed and then tossed Kiri down next to you, her face crestfallen when your eyes met.

"Talk to me, Corporal. This ship's goin' down and your girls with it. Your boy didn't have to die."

You flinch at that, feeling a chill run down your spine. Neteyam was-

An arrow flew by interrupting your thoughts before you were uncuffed and felt a sharp sting on your neck.

Hissing you struggle against the arm holding you down, but it only made the knife dig deeper into your throat.

"Runnin' out of time here Corporal," Quaritch said, his grip tightening.

"You already lost one kid today. You really wanna lose another?"

Jake grunted as he moved forward, his knife held out.

"Do not test me," Quaritch seethed, his eyes narrowing in anger.

"Just kill him, dad!" Kiri shouts, as you flinch.

He moves the knife closer to her throat, "Weapons down."

Hesitating Jake tosses the hatchet and knife to the ground as Kiri shouts, "Don't!"

You barely register the next words out of the man's mouth when a boy comes out from behind a pillar.

"No! No, don't hurt her!" he shouts as rushes in front of him.

"Stand there! Don't move," Quaritch shouts, his voice filled with anger as he takes the knife away from your throat.

You can already feel a warm and steady trickle flowing down your throat as Kiri looks at you and gasps, "Your nec-"

But she is interrupted as Neytiri leaps forward and grabs the boy, holding her knife to his throat.

Quaritch flinches as she speaks, "Release. Or I cut."

"What you think I care about some kid?" he laughs.

"He's not mine, we're not even the same species."

"Jus- please don't! Don't hurt her!" the boy sputters as Kiri pleads for her mother not to kill him.

Your eyes fall to the knife on your thigh, so carefully concealed they hadn't even noticed it when cuffing you. Taking advantage of the Colonel's distraction you reach down and grab it, hand shaking on the hilt.

"A son for a son," Neytiri hisses as you unsheathe the blade, the shell hilt cool in your palm.

She cuts his chest, "I cut," and you strike. Slashing upward you cut the Colonel's face.

And that's when you feel it, the cold metal of the Colonel's blade in your chest, the warm liquid sprouting forward and Kiri's hand on your arm as you fall backward.

Neteyam watched as the Metkayina emerged from the ocean, her long hair dripping wet and her eyes sparkling in the sunlight. He couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat as she smiled nervously in his direction. Giving a small wave he took a step toward her as he waited for Tsireya and the others to join him.

"I don't think I've seen you around here before," he said as he approached her, stopping a few steps in front of her in the sand.

A look of melancholy washed over her as she smiled sadly, "I-"

Before she could answer the sound of a throat clearing interrupted him, "What are you doing here?"

Turning back, he could see Ao'nung and Tsireya standing behind him. Ao'nung's voice was cold as ice, his expression angry, while Tsireya's was twisted in a mix of confusion and concern as she reached out to the girl.

Her expression shifted to one of discomfort as she glanced at Ao'nung before turning her gaze back to Neteyam. "I was just taking a swim," she replied, her voice soft and subdued.

Neteyam could sense the tension between Ao'nung and y/n, and he felt a protective instinct kick in. "Is there a problem?" he asked, his voice firm.

Ao'nung snorted dismissively. "No problem. We were just wondering what a sänui is doing here," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

She tensed beside Neteyam, but before she could respond, Tsireya stepped forward, placing a hand on Ao'nung's shoulder. "That's enough, Ao'nung. Let's go we have lessons to teach," she said firmly, her gaze flickering between Neteyam and the girl.

"Neteyam," Tsireya said, her voice strained as she walked into the waves, "Come, join us, you will learn nothing if you stay on the shore," her hand gestured for him to follow.

Glancing back in the girl's direction he gave a quick wave and leapt in with the others.

As he swam alongside Tsireya and Ao'nung, Neteyam couldn't help but wonder about the girl he had just met. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different about her, especially with the way Ao'nung and Tsireya had treated her. And the words Ao'nung had thrown at her stumped him too, he had called her a sänui, a failure. They seemed close, yet distant at the same time, as if they were holding her at arm's length for some reason.

The lessons that day were intense, what with it being their first day in the ocean. His arms felt sore as he followed his siblings back to their mauri.

Your hands rang the water from your hair as you stepped into your family's mauri, the room tense as your Mother set down a basket and grabbed an herb from your sister.

"Tsireya tells me that Toruk Makto's children have seen you," her voice is harsh and cold, but her gaze never meets yours as you stand in the entryway.

You feel a pang of guilt as your mother's words hit you. You knew that you shouldn't have been seen with Neteyam, or any of Toruk Makto's family, but you couldn't help it. You were curious and there was something about him in particular that drew you in, something that made you feel alive.

"I- I'm sorry, Mother," you stammer, looking down at your feet. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Your mother snorts, turning to face you with a scowl on her face. "You never mean to cause trouble, but trouble always seems to find you," she says bitterly her hands now holding a mixing bowl.

You feel the weight of her words, the same words she's said to you countless times before. You know why there is malice in her voice, and her eyes every time she sees you, and it cuts your soul. Honestly, it wouldn't be half bad if she would pretend you didn't exist, but your Father put a stop to that.

"I'll be more careful in the future," you say softly, hoping to diffuse the tension in the room.

Your mother nods, but her expression remains stern. "You're getting older now, y/n, and it's time for you to start thinking about your future. You can't keep running around the clan, you need to stay out of sight, and the way. It is what Eywa has willed."

You feel a lump form in your throat at her words, knowing that she's right, but don't want to give up the feeling that deep down she's wrong. That Eywa would never will such a thing, that she would never will your Mother to cast you aside the moment you took your first breath, that there was some reason you were the way you were.

"I understand Mother," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

She gives you a curt nod before turning back to her work, signaling that the conversation is over. You take one last look around the mauri before silently slipping out, feeling the weight of your mother's gaze as you walk.

But before you can fully exit the mauri, you bump into someone who exhales deeply. Flinching you glance up to meet your Father's eyes, full of melancholy as he gives you a tight smile, "My daughter," his hand lands on your shoulder.

Biting your lip you greet him, "Father," his eyes look down at the small basket in your hands, and they grow concerned.

"Where are you going so late?"

His eyes search yours for an explanation while you try not to frown, "Just for a swim."

He sighs in relief, "Be back before eclipse," and with that he heads inside, calling out to your mother, "Ronal," his voice trails off as you walk to the shore.

As you make your way toward the shore, you can't help but feel a sense of unease. Your mother's words still linger in your mind, and you know that she's right. You can't keep running around the clan, it's time for you to start thinking about your future. But the idea of conforming to the clan's and Eywa's expectations feels suffocating, and you can't help but wonder if there's more to life than just following the will of Eywa and listening to the people gossip in hushed tones when you pass them by.

Shaking your head you reach the shore and take a deep breath, feeling the cool breeze on your face. You can taste the salt in the air and the water is calm, as you wade in slowly, feeling the gentle waves lap against your ankles. You close your eyes and let out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. Hearing a snap you turn to see one of the Sully children standing not too far behind you on the shore. You freeze as he waves and takes a step closer.

"Hey," he whispers as the waves pick up in pace.

Feeling a chill run down your spine you quickly dive forward, the cool water engulfing you, the taste of salt on your tongue. As you swim further out, you can hear the distant chatter of the clan behind you, but you feel a sense of freedom being out here on your own. The water is your sanctuary, your escape from your troubles, and yourself. You dive deeper, feeling the pressure in your ears as you go. You know you should surface soon, but you can't help but stay down, enjoying the weightlessness of being underwater. Suddenly, you feel something brush against your leg, and you startle, quickly kicking back up to the surface.

Gasping for air, you look around, but there's no one there. You try to shake off the feeling of being watched, but it lingers, and you can't help but feel uneasy.

Neteyam stands dumbfounded on the beach after your curls disappear in the waves, the inky blackness of the waves obscuring the fact that you had ever been there in the first place as he turns to leave. Walking through the sand he wonders what you were doing out so late, and then he stops in his tracks.

In front of him stands the Tsahìk, her eyes foreboding and cold as she steps past him and towards the sea. Greeting her he quickly heads back to his family's mauri and lays down on his bed, his head swimming with thoughts of the strange girl.

The next morning he woke early to begin lessons with the ilu. Ao'nung took the lead on lessons while Tsireya demonstrated how to make Tsaheylu with them. It was just as Neteyam was about to take off with his ilu when he saw you. Your hair was now adorned with a scattering of orange and blue seashells, matching your top, and your eyes pointedly looked at the water as you called for an ilu.

As the ilu came forward you tossed it a fish, and patted its neck gently, smiling he urged his ilu to slowly move toward you. When he was mere inches from her he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Ao'nung,

"Again today," he seethed as he swam forward on his ilu.

She jumped back startled at his approach, falling over her feet and taking in a mouth of seawater as she fell. Neteyam's hand shot out and pulled her up as she rubbed her eyes.

"What are you doing here again?" Ao'nung asked, his voice harsh as he regarded her.

"I-," she paused as she looked down in thought, her eyes clouding with tears.

Stepping in between the two Neteyam sent a glare at Ao'nung, "Why can't she be here?" he hissed as he helped you gather the scattered contents of your bag.

"And who is she to you any way that you care so much she's here," his voice is stern as he looks to Ao'nung for an answer.

Your face pales as your younger brother's eyes lock on you and he laughs, "Tsmuke is just as useless as you all are."

Neteyam looks at him warily, "What do you mean? Why insult your own sister?" his voice is heated and a wave of confusion washes over him as he steps towards him.

You were their sister? It didn't make any sense to him, why treat you so coldly and call you a sänui, and worthless. Ao'nung feigns surprise, "You don't know?"

Biting back a laugh, he continues, "Oh, of course, you wouldn't, you're from the forest, so it might be difficult to understand," his finger points at you in accusation, "She has no spirit sister. No Tsaheylu. No connection to Eywa. She is worthless."

Neteyam's eyes shot to you, his eyes concerned as you stumbled back in the waves, "Your sister?"

He could feel his blood boiling as Ao'nung laughed and Tsireya turned away, her eyes locked on the sand.

He couldn't believe that anyone, let alone her own brother, could treat her so cruelly just because she didn't have a Tsaheylu. He could see the hurt and pain in your eyes as Ao'nung's words sunk in.

Turning to face Ao'nung, he spoke firmly, "That doesn't give you the right to treat her that way. She's still your sister-"

He's cut off by your shout, "No, he's right," a sad look washes over your face as you mount the ilu, and dive forward, disappearing underneath the waves.

Feeling his anger rise his hand clenches into a fist as he turns to Ao'nung and punches him.

sänui [sæ.ˈnu.i] n. failure (particular instance of failure)

requests are open~

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed~

please comment below if you'd like to be added to the taglist~

taglist~

[corazondebeskar-reads]

the devil you don't know (or however it goes)

hunter/raider!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: When Joel's men bring back the (adult) daughter of a rival group of hunters, he sees an opportunity.

Warnings: DARK, dub-con, Joel Miller is not a nice man, suspension bondage, abduction, captivity, themes of torture, mentions of past sexual abuse (not Joel), starvation, dehydration, a smidge of knifeplay, a pinch of bloodplay, seriously dead dove do not eat, ambiguous ending, reader has suicidal ideations because of anxiety and threat of imminent death, I mean it guys, this is somehow less depraved than the last raider!Joel but way darker, author makes up stuff about how garage doors work because google failed her but she's probably on a watchlist now so, canon-typical violence, gags, overnight bondage in an unsafe environment, reader's age isn't specified but she was an adult when the outbreak started

Prompts from this list by @absurdthirst.

also on ao3.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Back in the before, in all the movies and books, when the damsel in distress or dashing hero was captured, they woke up clueless. Thinking they were home before it all settled in. They’d write off the pain as a hangover or a friend’s shitty couch.

That’s not how it happened for you.

When your consciousness first blinked back into the world, you were already having a panic attack. Your brain had registered the clues long before you were involved in the process.

Your cheeks are already streaked with tears before you can open your eyes. Your throat is dry and aching, and you can’t breathe.

Of course, you don’t realize it’s a panic attack at first. You just assume you’re dying. Here in this damp, cold… garage?

Recognition snaps you out of it. You’re still gasping, ragged, like you’re full of broken glass, but you’re alert enough to look around.

You’re alone. Small mercies. Or maybe not, given the way you’re tied up. Coarse rope forces your arms behind your back, wrapped from wrist to elbow. Your shoulders ache from being yanked backward, but the length has some slack, at least, between you and the bracket on the thick steel wall.

No. Not a wall. A door. You’re tethered to a huge door, inflexible accordion-style metal punctuated with heavy-duty brackets. No windows, no rotting wood. Impenetrable.

The door isn’t closed all the way, but it’s locked into place. Even if you got your hands free, it would take time and strength to remove the locks and open it enough to slip out.

The air coming through the bottom is chilly but fresh.

It helps. Focusing on the cold shushes the other alarms in your body. Enough to realize it's not just your arms that are tied.

There are loops of rope around your thighs, tethered to the same point as your hands, and loops around your ankles, which are attached to the side walls nearby. Both grant you enough slack to move a little but hold your legs wide enough to prevent standing.

Not that it matters, you think, as a door on the other side of the room swings open.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” croons a man as he steps through the frame, the soft twang plucking at your heartstrings.

No. No. “Miller.”

“I was surprised to see you, too. M’boys said they found one of your daddy’s people in our territory. Imagine my face when they dragged you in.”

“So let me go. You know he’ll come looking.”

“Will he? Lotta blood out there.”

“Not mine.”

“Oh, I know. I saw the way you carved up one of my guys. You got him good.” He almost sounds pleased. “But daddy doesn’t know that, does he?”

“He’ll still look for me.”

“You think he’s going to break our pact for you? He’s gonna risk facing me over a runaway?” He pauses. “Were you runnin’ to me?”

“No,” you snarl.

“But you are runnin', ain’tcha?”

“No,” you lie. “I just got lost. He’s waiting for me for dinner.” Part of that, at least, is true. You would have never intentionally crossed into Joel Miller’s land.

“Alright, I get it. Better the devil ya know, right?” he grins.

You glared over his shoulder, refusing to look at his stupid, smug face. That was why you had stayed these last few years. When supplies ran lower and lower and your father found other ways to keep his men loyal.

At the end of the day, you had food, water, and shelter.

As you look anywhere but Joel, you see what fills the industrial metal shelving along the walls. There are stacks of boxes of bullets. Pallets worth of bottled water and canned goods. Cases of dried pasta. A couple dirty mattresses are leaning against the back wall. Your stomach sinks.

He sees you taking in the stock. “Sorry, would have kept ya in the other one, where we usually have our… guests, but see, it’s a little messy right now.” He pulls a Dasani out of a case and brings it over, pressing it to your lips after pocketing the lid.

You rear your head back.

“What, you think it’s drugged or somethin’?” Joel takes a big swig out of the bottle, a drop rolling down his chin. He swipes it away with the folded cuff of his denim button-up. “Why would we waste any of the good stuff on you?”

He offers it back up to you, and you let him pour it in your mouth. When he takes it away, you spit it at him.

He sighs. “Wish you hadn’t done that,” he says and tips the bottle over your head. “But if that’s the way you’re gonna be, I’ll go.”

But he doesn’t leave. Not yet. First, he presses and holds the button on the wall and watches as the pulley cranks to life.

The machinery grates, gears crying for oil, and you flinch from the noise. You don’t realize what’s about to happen until it does. The ropes holding you aren’t that long, and as the garage door slides up, it lifts you with it.

You scream. “Stop, please, put me down.”

Joel shakes his head, disappointment exaggerated in his scowl. “Shoulda been good. Now ya know.”

He releases the button when the door is open. You’re hanging, now, with your arms pulled to their limit behind you. Your shoulders already burn. The loops around your thighs and ankles keep you balanced at the expense of spreading you wide. You jerk, trying to… what? Trying to get out? You know that wasn’t happening, not like this. All you were going to do was dislocate your shoulders.

The late summer breeze blows in, and you shiver. Your hair and shirt are soaked.

“Don’t worry,” Joel jerks his head to the dark house across the street. “Ain’t got neighbors.”

He goes to leave, and you can’t help it. “Don’t, please!”

He stops and turns around, head to the side like you’re a puzzle he wants to figure out. “You gonna shut up, or do I gotta take care of that?”

Blood drains from your face.

He comes over to you and pulls a filthy bandana from his pocket. He rolls it up and ducks behind you. You try to lock your jaw, but he digs his fingers into the hinges until you open a little. He presses the bandana into your mouth, yanking back on it, and tying it tight behind your head.

“Night,” he tips his head, flourishing a hand like a fucking cowboy in a Stetson, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You don’t sleep, waiting for hungry dogs or Joel’s men to find you trussed up.

When he comes back in the morning, you’re a wreck. You survived the fucking apocalypse, but none of it could have prepared you for this. You’re blinking in and out of consciousness.

There’s nothing but the pain. You’re sure you would have cried or thrown up, but you’re so dehydrated now that you can’t even spare a tear. It’s not lost on you that you got into this situation by wasting water.

“Chilly in here,” he says by way of greeting, tugging the bandana off you.

You keep your eyes closed. Imagining his smug smirk is bad enough; you don’t need to see him see you like this.

“You shoulda worn a jacket, sweetheart.”

“Did,” you croak, and wish you hadn’t fallen for his bait.

“Ah, someone took it from ya? Must have been a nice one.”

It was. It was patched up and ugly, but so was everything in this world. And it was warm. Heavy denim with quilted down lining. The last thing you’d ever take from your father, you thought.

He walks around you. You’d stiffen if you could, but you’ve long been stuck, muscles given out.

“Alright, let’s get ya down.”

At least the dehydration saves you from the whimper you almost let out. But it’s silent, and if Joel notices anything, he doesn’t react.

He walks back over to the door and presses the button. “S’gonna hurt like a bitch,” he warns before the door jerks backward, click click clicking as it lowers. It’s slow, but when your legs touch the ground, you may as well have plummeted.

You scream, wrenching it from your haggard throat, hands balled into fists behind your back. When you’re fully on the ground, you collapse against the door, only sparing a wince when your head bounces against the jutting metal seam between panels.

“Deep breaths. You’ll be fine.” He crouches down in front of you, same ratty denim shirt and jeans, same scuffed up boots. “You ready to behave?”

You nod, barely moving, but he gets the message.

“Y’look thirsty.”

You crack your eyes open to peek at him but can’t. They roll back into your head, lids fluttering.

You’re vaguely aware that he leaves and comes back but have no idea how much time passes. He crouches back down in front of you, and you hear the crinkle of a decade-old plastic bottle.

“If I give you this, are you going to spit it at me again?”

“No,” you whisper.

“You gonna ask nicely?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, but your brain is mostly static, so you give up without much of a fuss. “Please.”

He hums his approval and brings the bottle to your lips. He only lets you take tiny sips, infinitesimal in the arid expanse of your mouth. He pulls it away far too soon, and a soft sob leaks from you in its absence.

“You can have more later. Don’t need you gettin’ sick all over my garage.”

He leaves.

When he comes back late into the evening, you’re asleep, but you startle awake when he turns the light on.

Your wide eyes follow him as he moves about the garage. When he finally approaches you, it’s to offer more water. You accept it immediately, opening your mouth for the bottle before it even reaches you.

“Learned your lesson, huh? Good girl.”

It’s accompanied by a sneer, but that doesn’t stop the way your pussy clenches for a minute. Given that you’re still fully clothed, he remains blessedly unaware.

“Can you just, like, shoot me now or whatever,” you mumble. You know you’re not leaving that garage. You’ve seen where he keeps the top supplies. You know which house this is—or at least, the numbers on the house across the street.

“Nah,” Joel says as if you’re discussing what to eat for dinner. He sits down in front of you, knees bent up, leaning on them with the arm holding the water bottle. “You’re gonna help me first.”

“Why would I help you if you’re going to kill me?”

“Because I’ll make it quick for ya.”

You think you might throw up the water.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he gestures at you with his loose hand, now grasping a closed switchblade. “You know how this goes. Seen your pops do it plenty, right?”

You nod.

“I don’t think you’re gonna make me, though,” Joel muses, and scratches his chin with the outside of the blade.

“I was running,” you blurt. “If I tell you everything, I swear, he’ll never know, I just want to—”

“‘Fraid not,” he says, shaking his head. “Nothin’ personal, sweetheart, just can’t trust ya.”

The way you’re staring at him with your pretty eyes, glistening with fear, makes him scowl harder. He flicks the blade open and watches as a tear escapes before you close your eyes.

“Promise?” you whisper.

“Promise what?”

“Promise you’ll make it quick, if I tell you everything.” You’re shaking, and realize you’re probably about to have another panic attack as your breathing grows shallow.

“Yeah, I promise,” he says. He stands up and watches you, the way you’re clenching your hands into fists and trying to breathe out of your mouth.

“Jesus. It’s not gonna happen right now, calm down.”

Before he leaves, he gives you more water.

You’re awake when he comes back the next morning. He sits in front of you, legs crossed, and sets a cloth full of dried meat between you, and another bottle of water.

He picks up a thick strip. It doesn’t look like the shit they used to sell at grocery stores. It looks like they’ve salted and dried their own fucking jerky.

You stare as he rips off a piece and eats it.

“What? Y’ain’t got pigs?”

You shake your head.

“Jesus,” he sighs. “Is there even anything to take, or am I wasting my fucking time?”

“Lots of guns,” you shrug. “Some food. Not like you’ve got.”

Guns were more than enough of a reason, and you both knew it. He ripped another piece off and held it to your lips.

You didn’t hesitate.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” he says while you chew. “I’m going to ask you a question. If I believe your answer, you can have somethin' to eat or drink. If I don’t believe you, that’s when things get tricky.” He opens the switchblade and sets it next to the water.

It takes hours, but true to your word, you tell him everything. The layout of the old campground your father took command over. Patrol schedules. Planned raids. Locations of guns, food, medicine, everything.

By the end of it, you’d had two sticks of the jerky and the whole bottle of water. You look more alive than you have in days, given that you’d been thoroughly lost for two before stumbling across his men on patrol.

“Why’d you feed me?” you ask when he stands to leave. “Aren’t you about to kill me?”

“No,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gotta see if your information is good. Probably won’t even make a move for a week or so.”

You tense. “You promised. You promised you’d make it quick.”

“I promised I’d make it quick when I kill ya. If you told me everything. Can’t prove you did until it’s done.”

He doesn’t know what he expected you to do, but screaming was not it. It’s a wounded, rageful thing. He hates it. He stomps back over and covers your mouth, blade in hand. It presses against your cheek, and you hiss.

He pulls his hand away and watches the blood drip down your cheek. You don’t scream again, but there’s something in your eyes when you stare him down.

“Coward,” you whisper.

His hand wraps around your throat, pushing you against the garage door. He doesn’t remember kneeling down close to you, but that’s where he finds himself as he squeezes, bringing the knife up above his hand.

You aren’t struggling, yet, His grip isn’t that tight. Some air still leaks, and you laugh. “C’mon,” you taunt.

He lets go. You slump down a little, chest heaving. There’s blood dripping down from the small nick in your neck to your cleavage.

You watch him watch it. “Can you at least clean that up if you’re going to leave me here?”

He doesn’t know what possesses him. It has to be the unhinged look in your eyes, spreading to him like poison. He grabs your jaw in the hand with the blade and pushes your head to the side so he can lean down and lick the blood off your breast. You moan.

He spits it to the side, and turns your head back to look at him. Your lips are parted, pupils blown. “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls, leaning back, putting distance between him and your tits.

“C’mon,” you repeat, but this time, it’s heady.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” But he doesn’t wait for you to answer. He grabs your jaw again and kisses you. It’s not kind or soft. It’s all teeth and snarls and the knife against your cheek. But you kiss him back, because it pleases the ravaging wildfire of rage that lives in your chest. Fuels it.

He pulls back. “Shit," he mutters.

“You gonna fuck me or what?”

He lets go. Stands up. You think maybe he’s going to get his cock out, but he stalks over to the door. “Or what.”

He slams the door so he doesn’t have to hear you howl in fury after him, spitting insults.

He doesn’t come back the next day.

By the second morning, you’re starting to panic. You’re so thirsty. The last bottle had a few dregs in it, just a sip, but it's just out of reach. The only light you have is when it creeps in from the little gap between the garage door and the uneven concrete.

When he comes that evening, he’s ditched the denim. He’s got tight dark pants and a gray t-shirt on. You don’t look at him directly as he gives you water and more of the salty jerky.

He crouches down in front of you again. You’re getting tired of it. Of his stupid pretty face and this stupid garage. Your arms are numb, and the pounding in your head hasn’t gone away since the first day. You don’t even know how long you’ve been here anymore.

“Why’d you ask me to fuck you?" It’s less of a question than a statement, but you know he expects an answer.

“Dunno. Thought maybe you would.”

“I’m going to kill you. Your pussy ain’t going to change that.”

“Didn’t expect it to.”

“What, you a virgin or something? You trying to get fucked before you die?”

“Or something, yeah,” you mutter.

“Shit.” He can’t believe he’s considering this. It feels like crossing one of the few lines he hasn’t crossed.

It’s not lost on you. “Are you having a fuckin' moral dilemma about this? You’re gonna gut me, and you’re trying to figure out if it’d be fucked up to have sex with me?”

“Not gonna gut ya,” he says. “Said I’d make it quick, didn’t I?”

“Oh my god. That was so not the point.”

“Shut up. Look at me.”

You do. He’s holding the blade again. “I verified your information yesterday. We’re going to make our move tomorrow. I’ll be back by sundown. You still want this?”

It feels like he dumped the water on you again. You shiver. So that’s it. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be gone.

“Yes.”

“Fine. But we’re doin’ this my way.” He walks away, and you think he’s going back inside until he stops and presses the button.

You’re shocked enough that all you do is gasp when the door lifts, pulling you into the air. He stalks back over to you and holds the blade up. “Hold still.”

You’re hanging in the fucking air. What does he think you’re going to do? Fly away? But you hold your breath anyway while he slides the knife between your skin and clothes. When you’re bare to him, he drops the knife and grabs your waist.

“You done anything? Anyone ever make you come?”

You shake your head and murmur, “No, no one.”

When you look up at him, you’re surprised to see something almost soft behind his eyes. You glare. “What, is it going to make you feel less guilty if I have an orgasm?”

“What do I got to feel guilty for? You fuckin’ begged for it.”

“Then fuckin’ fuck me already,” you snap. Your arms hurt again. You want to fuck him, you want to land your fists against his stupid face, you want to not fucking die tomorrow.

But you can only have one of those things, so. “Please,” you say, and sigh.

He cups your breasts, stroking thumbs over your nipples. He leans over and licks, and you moan again, soft this time.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t gotta do that. Just fuck me.”

“Ain’t doin’ it for you,” he lies.

You don’t protest again, not after he takes a nipple in his mouth and sucks. He brings a hand to your cunt and thumbs your clit, sliding two fingers down to start working you open for him. He eases the first one in through your slick, and you whine.

“I’m not gonna be nice,” he says, panting a little. “It’s going to hurt.”

“Yeah,” you agree, watching as he stretches you open. Your legs are held so wide they ache, but it doesn’t stop your eyes from rolling back when he picks up speed.

He holds you tight when you come so your arms don’t jerk too hard. It’d be a shitty end to a shitty life, you think, to wait all day with dislocated shoulders for him to come home and slit your throat.

Finally, he pulls his cock out. A man of his word, he doesn’t go nice or slow. It does hurt. His cock is thick and long, and he makes it fit even as your body tries to reject him. He hooks his hands under your thighs, forcing you to put some of your body weight on him as he fucks up into you.

It takes the pressure off your arms, and you suspect maybe he's strong enough to fuck like this without the help from the ropes.

The burn is exactly what you wanted. It stings, and you cry, silent but for a few whimpers. He pulls another orgasm out of you with his clever fingers on your clit.

When he comes, he pulls you to him and sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You wail, but you also come again as he fills you.

You expect him to leave you there, dangling and dripping his spend. But when he lets go, it’s just to lower you back to the ground.

He tucks his soft cock away and zips up, staring down at you. You lay against the door, trying to catch your breath.

“What’d you mean by ‘or something’?” he says, surprising himself.

“S’nothin,” you sigh.

He sits down, offers you water. You drink and watch him, tense and untrusting.

“Was that the first time you’ve been fucked?”

“First time I ever wanted it,” you say.

His jaw ticks. “Answer one more question for me, ‘bout your father’s camp.” He waits until you meet his eyes. “If you’re strugglin’ for food, how’s he keeping all them happy?”

You flinch and look away.

He doesn’t need another answer.

You don’t expect to see him in the morning, so you’re startled when the door opens. He throws something on the floor, but you don’t have time to look before he’s crouched over you, knife in hand.

You had promised yourself you’d be brave and quiet when he came for you. But you thought you’d have time to prepare yourself, so when he brings it toward you, you flinch back and cry out. “Hold still,” he snaps. He doesn’t have time to wait for you to cooperate, so he holds your shoulder with one hand and slices through the rope with the other.

When he’s done, he jabs the knife in the direction of the pile of fabric by your foot. “Get up. Get dressed.”

You can’t stand. He huffs and pockets the knife, pulling you up. Your limbs barely move from the way they’ve been stuck, splotchy and limp from poor circulation. He helps you tug the flannel on and step into what must be a pair of his boxers.

He looks you over. “S’all I got.”

“Okay,” you say. You’re so confused. Between the pain, the hunger, the dehydration, and the fear, it’s a wonder you can string together a single thought.

“Let’s go,” he snaps as he heads for the door, like you were supposed to know already. When you get into the house, he grabs one arm and pushes you ahead of him, through a kitchen and living room and out another door.

Most of his men are in two vans, but Joel shoves you into a pickup truck. He buckles you in and waves a finger in your face. “You try anything, and it’ll take you days to bleed out.”

You just nod. You’re thinking now that he probably doesn’t want to kill you in his house. Blood all over the stockroom would be a pain in the ass.

At least you got to see sunshine again.

It’s not a long drive, but you keep your eyes closed. The autumn sun is weak, but you think you might cry as it brushes your skin.

Joel doesn’t say a word.

You don’t open your eyes until he parks. He hops out and comes to pull you out the other side, but when you see where you are, you panic and try to push him away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snaps. “Get out of the fucking truck.”

God. Everything you’d heard about him is true. Was he really this cruel? Monstrous enough to drag you back, to die here when you’d finally escaped?

Or—has he struck a deal? Is he going to give you back to your father?

You can’t breathe.

Joel crowds you against the truck, hands on your shoulders, and shakes you a little. “Snap out of it, I ain’t got time for this. Stick with me and keep your mouth shut.”

For a moment, neither of you move. You get control of your breathing and realize he hasn’t restrained you. He didn’t give you shoes, but you still know this land far better than he does. You told him all your father’s secrets, but not yours.

“Don’t,” he says. It’s the softest he’s spoken to you yet.

And, god help you, you nod.

Two of Joel’s men are struggling to hold your father when Joel drags you into the living room of the main cabin. He’s holding your wrists behind your back, his gun pressed into your side.

“Oh, thank god, honey, you’re okay,” your father says, but his face falls when he sees the gun. “C’mon, Miller, let her go. She’s not a part of this.”

“She is now,” Joel says. “Found her on my land. Ain’t that right?”

You want to close your eyes, want to ignore your part in this, want him to just fucking shoot already, but you can’t look away from your father’s face.

“I swear to god, Miller, if you laid a hand on her—”

“Like your men did?” He waits and doesn’t receive a response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“You know how it is,” your father says. He can’t read Joel, never could. “Everyone’s gotta contribute somehow. Keep morale up,” he plows forward, oblivious to the dangerous way Joel’s eyes have darkened. “Look, I can look past it. Whatever you did, she probably had it coming, for trespassing. We can call it even.”

Joel’s slow smirk is feral. He nods. For a moment, your father breathes with relief. But Joel isn’t looking at him.

His men move quick, and your father is on his knees in just seconds. They struggle to hold him down with hands on his shoulders, but he stops fighting when Joel lifts the gun away from you.

He doesn’t aim it at your father, who has to watch as Joel flips the gun in his hand and offers you the grip. He didn’t even notice that Joel had let you go.

You don’t say anything. You look at Joel for a moment, and your father watches you slowly move to take the handgun. He has the nerve to look relieved again, until you stop, holding it in both hands in front of you, looking at it.

“What are you doing? Shoot him!” your father says.

You look up at your father, grimacing against the bile rising in your throat.

You look at Joel again, gun heavy. You wonder what would happen if you let it drag down, out of your fingers, to the knotty pine panels that cover every surface. You wonder what would happen if you clasped your fingers around the weight of it and raised your arm to the left.

Joel’s men watch him, unsure. He holds up a hand and waits, watching the glow from the hearth dance across your face.

“Shoot them, you stupid girl, and get me out of here.”

Joel steps closer, puts his hands on your waist, and leans in. “Up to you, darlin’,” his hot breath against your ear.

You pull the trigger.

[bwat5-blog]

Hope: Part 4 (Arcane Fanfic)

Non-Canon compliant

Jinx walked into The Last Drop and, as always, even after all these years, she had to shake off the memories clinging to her like cobwebs. No matter how much she wished it were true, Vander isn’t behind the bar, smiling and laughing, smoke drifting from his pipe. And Vi isn’t off in the storeroom in the back, throwing punches at shadows. She’s unconscious in a bed… and she needs her.

The whole bar goes silent at the sight of her. She wasn’t exactly unaware of her growing status during the occupation, but it still made her uncomfortable. Hushed whispers and exclamations filled the air as she stopped and forced a grin onto her face that showed just a bit too many of her teeth.

“Well, come on! Your big, fat hero is home! Someone point me to the people who made it happen!”

She heard a heavy door slam open and measured, slow footsteps before a familiar gruff voice called, “In here, kid. Quit riling the natives.”

Jinx turned to behold Sevika leaning heavily on the doorframe, looking positively exhausted. She walked over and clapped the burly woman on her shoulder. “Hiya, Lefty!”

Sevika scowled. “What are you doing here? Your pardon isn’t finished yet.”

“Oh, I heard the news that Kiramman bitch is getting the boot and wanted to come thank the heroes who made it happen personally!” Jinx cackled.

Sevika stared at her, dark eyes studying. She took a step forward. “They’re in my office…” then leaned in closer “I know that look. Don’t kill anyone,” she whispered.

Jinx nodded and walked forward partially but stopped just enough that no one in the bar could see her face. She leaned a little closer and said softly, “I missed you.” Then she continued on, stepping past Sevika down the hall and into the open office.

Two men and a woman sat in chairs facing Sevika’s desk, drinking Noxian whiskey and chatting amicably. The first, short and squat with large watery eyes- Jinx dubbed Toad. The second, a woman tall and thin and pointed- Birdy, and the last, a small shifty man with bright eyes and a frantic nervous energy- Weasel. They all stopped and turned when Jinx walked in, Toad standing hurriedly.

“Well, look who it is. They must have sprung you early! Welcome home, Jinx.” Toad extended his hand.

Jinx smiled and shook his hand. “Oh, well, I got the news, but I just had to come and say thank you personally! I mean, not only did you bust me out, but Kiramman is getting the boot too!” She walked around to the desk and sat in Sevika’s seat as the muscular woman closed the door, groaning.

Toad plopped back into his chair and nodded. “It’s the absolute least of what she deserves. I was in favor of more just recompense, but Sevika seems to have gone soft,” he said, glaring through his small, whiskey-addled eyes.

This man must truly be an idiot to call Sevika soft, Jinx thought, but she smiled.

“Oh, I think I heard that. You wanted to see her tied to a post and lashed, right?”

Toad nodded. “And make that traitor sister of yours watch for good measure. Or better yet, have her join that Piltie bitch for her own punishment.”

Jinx stiffened. “Is that right?” she asked, her fingers digging into the wood of the desk so hard they were turning white.

The woman next to Toad, thin and reedy with pointed features—Birdy, Jinx recalled—looked at him with alarm. She turned to Jinx with her hands up. “Now, now, no one suggested that.”

Jinx stared at Toad, feeling her smile stretch, her breath quicken, and the shimmer starting to course through her veins. Her old friend calling to her from the deep places of her mind.

Toad wants to hurt Vi… wants to hurt Vi… wants to make her suffer, wants to make her cry…

Jinx felt her insides twist and the pressure build in her head as she tried to calm herself when a fist, like a piston, slammed into the desk so hard the wood cracked.

Jinx’s head jerked up, ripped from the haze, to see Sevika standing over Toad, glaring. “I believe I told you what would happen if you don’t stop running your damn mouth,” she snarled.

Toad looked up at her in shock, his face going bright red. Birdy nodded and started to stand, gathering herself and jerking on Toad’s arm, as Weasel looked at Sevika with a huff. “As your peers—” Sevika cut him off with a cruel chuckle.

“You three were chosen by our people to be leaders. To be their voice. And your first big achievement is trying to get a kid in her twenties whipped because she fell for the lies of someone older, wiser, and more experienced who took advantage of her. Think very carefully before you call yourself my peer. Now get out, before you say something I can’t protect you from.”

Toad looked down and really seemed to see Jinx properly for the first time, fear and shock clearing some of the whiskey-induced haze in his mind as he beheld those electric purple eyes staring at him… and although he could not name it, he now knew the same fear as a prey animal staring into the eyes of a predator it knows it cannot escape.

Birdy cleared her throat. “Jinx… we are very pleased you are going to be freed. What you have come to mean to our people cannot be overstated. And we would NEVER”—she turned to Toad with a glare—“wish any harm upon Violet. This is her home too.” She inclined her head to Sevika and led Toad and Weasel out, leaving only Jinx and Sevika in the room.

Jinx stared quietly for a moment, still breathing so heavily her whole body was heaving as the voices rasped and cackled for blood. She curled in on herself, a vibrant tear rolling down her cheek as she focused on her breath.

In: 1… 2… 3… 4… 5. Hold: 1… 2… 3… 4… 5. Out: 1… 2… 3… 4… 5.

She repeated the cycle until the voices went back to sleep, then looked up to find Sevika sitting across from her, waiting patiently.

“Thanks for… ya know…” Jinx gestured to the desk.

Sevika chuckled and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, taking a long pull and wiping her mouth. “It was as much for you as it was me. It would be a lot harder to finalize your pardon if you murdered the three brand-new councilors of Zaun when you aren’t even supposed to be walking the street yet. I don’t need the headache.”

Jinx chuckled and pulled her legs to her chest. “I’m trying… trying not to feel that way anymore. Caitlyn’s dad is helping me. He’s gonna be mad at me,” she said sadly.

Sevika was quiet for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Hey. Look at me.”

Jinx looked up, and Sevika continued. “You’ve been up there what, a week? From what Caitlyn told me.”

Jinx nodded. “Something like that…”

Sevika scoffed. “Well, shit, kid. If he’d fixed you in a week, that’d be a hell of a thing. He’d be a damn mage.”

Jinx uncurls slightly as Sevika continued. “Listen… I don’t know a damn thing about mental health. I mean, aside from being a walking, talking cautionary tale. But I do know these things take time. And from what I’ve heard, and just in the little I’ve seen from you… I think you’ve got a shot. I don’t think he’s gonna be mad at you for almost losing control, Jinx. This is more of a long-haul type of thing. Don’t punish yourself for stumbling at the beginning of the race.”

Jinx stared at Sevika for a moment before smiling slightly and sitting up. “When did you get so wise, Lefty?” she chuckled.

Sevika scowled. “I’ve always been wise. You morons just never listen,” she said, but she couldn’t hide a slight smile.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Did you really come down here to confront them?” Sevika asked.

Jinx sighed. “I don’t want Caitlyn being sent away… she and I are making progress. Slow, but real. And Vi... I don’t want that for her. It’ll be just like before. She’ll feel torn between staying with me and going with the woman she loves, and she deserves better. I thought maybe I could… I don’t know.”

Sevika looked at her with confusion. “Sent away?”

Jinx nodded. “The whole exile thing,” she said in a keep up, dummy tone.

“Kid, it was her idea,” Sevika said plainly.

Jinx froze. “No, that… that’s not true...”

Sevika nodded. “She came to me with it before the meeting. I don’t know what she told you, but...” she shrugged.

Confusion and anger warred in Jinx’s head. “What the hell… why would she do that? She knows Vi needs her. She knows that. Why would she—”

“Why would someone who feels like they hurt everyone they love and destroyed what they cared for want to push everyone away?” Sevika asked, eyebrows raised.

Jinx stared, realization landing on her like a brick. She leaned back, groaning. “God, I’m an idiot.”

Sevika chuckled. “No argument. Although when your sister finds out you rode to her defense, she’s gonna hug you so hard your head pops.”

Jinx laughed sadly and nodded. “If she’ll just fucking wake up…” she whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

“I heard she saved your life,” Sevika said quietly.

Jinx nodded. “You know Vi… always bleeding for people who don’t deserve it.”

Sevika shook her head. “She’s got a habit of putting herself last that she needs to work out, no doubt. But you’re doing her wrong, saying you don’t deserve it.”

Jinx scoffed. “After everything I did, I think I can safely say her almost dying to protect me was the last thing I deserved.”

“I was there the night Vander died… the night it all went wrong. Do you remember?” Sevika asked.

Jinx nodded, feeling her throat tighten. She would never forget that night.

“Before you set off the bomb, Vi stood in front of more than ten of Silco’s men—only fifteen years old—with Vander’s big-ass gauntlets on. And she went toe-to-toe with every last one of them. Do you think it was about whether Vander, Mylo, and Claggor deserved it?”

Jinx shook her head. “No, but—”

“But nothing. Violet isn’t perfect, and she’s made plenty of bad choices too. But Vi knows who she loves, and for those people, deserve has nothing to do with it. Being willing to fight and bleed for those she loves isn’t about them; it’s about her. You let her down. But she knew who you were and what you meant to her anyway, and so when the time came, she didn’t hesitate.”

Jinx nodded, tearing up a little, and was shocked to feel Sevika’s calloused hand on hers. “She’s coming back. Believe me. I tried to kill her twice. No sissy explosion is gonna finish her.”

Jinx looked up and laughed. “Good point… but what am I supposed to say now? I have to go back.”

Sevika looked at her. “Can I ask you something? … Do you and Vi even want to stay here?”

An hour or so later

Jinx took a deep breath and vaulted over the walls of the Kiramman estate, moving through the crisp night air like a spirit until she reached the window leading to Caitlyn’s bedroom. As she climbed up, she heard… laughter?

“I’m okay, Cait. I’m okay, I promise,” a raspy, exhausted voice laughed softly.

“Promise all you like, Violet, you brave idiot. I’m never letting you go,” Caitlyn’s teary voice exclaimed.

Jinx’s pulse quickened, and she climbed faster, throwing herself through the open window, landing like a cat. Vi and Caitlyn both turned and looked in shock and surprise. Jinx walked forward, her hands shaking as she pushed her hood back and locked eyes with Vi. Jinx could hear her pulse in her ears, feel the salty tears streaking her cheeks.

“Vi…” she almost whispered, her lips trembling.

Her older sister smiled and extended her arms. “Where have you been?”

Jinx flew across the room, burying herself in Vi’s muscular hug, sobbing as Vi wrapped her up. “I love you Vi.. god I’m so sorry I didn’t say it before I was so afraid”

“It’s okay… I’m okay… I love you to” Vi said softly, holding Jinx so tight she could barely breathe, but she didn’t even care.

Jinx turned to Caitlyn and extended a hand, smiling even through tears “What are you waiting for?”

Vi looked at them both in shock as Caitlyn walked over and joined the group hug. Vi started crying. “I love you both… so much…”

[mediumgayitalian]

She almost runs over her guitar on her way in the driveway.

For a second, the image is so obscene that she laughs. She’d gotten her hands on a permanent marker, when she was three, scrawled her name across the body with careful hands a tongue stuck out of her mouth in concentration. The N is backwards, and she’d creatively used the soundhole as the O. Hollered for Daddy to come look, to come ruffle her hair and swing her over his shoulders for a job well done.

He’d come to look, alright.

“Well, Helen,” he’d said to his wife, scrubbing a hand over his neck, “damn thing’s hers, now, I suppose.”

He’d always warned her to be careful with it. Scolded her for every sticker she’d slapped on the neck, every painted doodle on the face. Picked it up when she left it sprawled on the couch, placing it gently on the stand. Careful as he was with all her things, with her.

It’s strings-down on the pavement, now, half-crushed under the weight of her patched pink backpack. She takes a half step forward, chipped paint of her purple toenails scratching against the wood of the guitar. She crouches down and touches it, softly, wincing at the twang of the twisted strings.

“What…”

A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye catches her attention. She looks up just in time to catch the pale blue curtains swish quickly shut over the bow windows, to see the lights flick off.

Mouth dry, she touches her stomach. The swell is barely there — barely noticeable. Barely far along enough to feel the kick.

She wants to scream. She wants to run up to the door and bang on it ‘til Mama swings it open, wants to collapse to her knees and sob and beg for their forgiveness. Wants to tell them about how scared she’s been for months. Wants Mama to grip her hand in her calloused ones, sit her at the kitchen table and get her the exact type of tea that’ll settle her stomach and soothe her heartburn. Wants Daddy to smooth back her hair and press a kiss to the crown of her forehead, squeezing the curve of her shoulder. Wants Wally the cat to hop up onto her lap, mrrping and bumping his head into her sternum.

Instead, she swallows. She swings her backpack over her shoulders, picks her guitar gently off the cracked driveway, and walks straight-backed to her car. The key sticks in the lock, as it always does, and in her increasingly desperate attempts to force it open she twists the damn thing, and the key is sad and thin and bent when she yanks it out and she cries, almost, the tears build and build and build in her eyes, util suddenly she grits her teeth and decides that she will not. She shoves the key back in the lock and twists the other way, bending it back into shape, wrenching open the door and throwing her backpack in, relishing in the thunk as it hits the passenger door. With her guitar she’s gentler, barely, setting it neatly along the backseats and wrenching her hand back as hard as she can to make up for it.

She sits in the drivers seat so hard the whole car shakes. The steering wheel is warm, still, from the heat of her palms on the drive here from Molly’s house, because she’s been overheated lately. For the last four months, to be exact. Overheated and cranky and nauseous and heavy.

“Well,” she whispers, resting her forehead on the steering wheel. She wraps her arms around her stomach, squeezing her eyes shut, biting her tongue as hard as she can. “It’s you and me and sheer fucking will, I guess, kid.”

She rifles through her CDs until she comes across a case with a wood-pattern print and a man with a revolver lounging across it. She pulls out the scratched disc and feeds it carefully into the player, waiting for the deep baritone to rumble through her shit plastic speakers, and listens to the first bar, the second, the third.

But this is for real, so forget about me. Eight more minutes to go.

The light doesn’t come back on. The curtains don’t flick. Her Daddy doesn’t come runnin’ out the door, screaming for her to wait. Mama doesn’t follow out calmly after him. All there is is shadow, shadow, shadow, and the shape her guitar made upside down on the pavement.

She backs out of the driveway where she tripped and fell and lost her first tooth, and drives, and drives, and drives.

———

When she was little, her uncle took her to go see Alien.

He shouldn’t have. It was far too old a movie for a kid her age, and the clerk had told him so. But Noah Solace had a penchant for being stubborn and a chip in his shoulder, so he’d taken her anyway. He should have left when the alien leapt from its nest and definitely when one of the freaky little parasites burst from the guy’s chest, but he didn’t, and Naomi had watched frozen completely in her seat, palms sweating, spine rigid, squirming at the thought of something growing inside her. Of being betrayed by something that lived in the deepest recesses of her body.

The day after she leaves home, she taps her chewed-up fingernail on the sides of the wall-phone by a rest stop. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. The Bell logo is covered partially by someone’s tag, by a curved C and bubble O B A L T. Ironically, the worn Sharpie ink is purple.

617 343 7844. She knows the number by heart. She knows the song of dialling it like she knows Jolene. Bah-duh-duh bah-duhduh duh-bah-duhduh. One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three, four. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She sucks her lip into her teeth. Training her eyes on the purple COBALT tag, the obstructed Bell, the rainbow of wads of gum balled up in the corners, she presses the right buttons. Bahduhduh-bahduhduh-duhbahduhduh. Ring. Ring.

What is she doing. What is she doing.

Ring. Ring.

Naomi isn’t one for planning. She’s absent-minded, she knows she is. Flighty and distracted. Head in the clouds, never one to study. A coaster. A drifter. A real one, now.

Ring. Ring.

Hey, Uncle Noah. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. I keep forgetting to respond to your letters. How am I? I’m great! I slept with a god and now I’m nineteen and knocked up and homeless, to boot. Wanna come pick me up?

Ring. Ring.

God, what is she doing. What is she doing.

Ring. Ring. Ri—

“Fuck d’you want?”

Low baritone. Gravelly. Rough, slurring. Sleepy?

“Hello? Can you hear me? Who’s this?”

Hey, Uncle Noah. It’s been years since I’ve seen you. I keep forgetting to —

“Is this one’a them fuckin’ tele — fuck they called — tele…tele…”

— respond to your letters, great, nineteen knocked up —

“Tele…grams? Telefuckin…telemarketers! You one’a them fuckin’ telemarketers?”

— pick me up pick me up pick me up please —

“Swear t’a fuckin’ Jesus — I told you sons of bitches —”

— parasite —

“Ah, fuck you. You call here again I’mma fuckin’ —”

Click.

Riiiiiiinnnnnng.

She stares at her own finger on the receiver, white and bloodless. Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.

You have disconnected. To reconnect your call, please —

She flings the phone from her hands, against the receiver, against the box, clink, clatter, bounce, tap tap tap tap tap tap against the pavement. Tap. Scritch. Tap tap tap. And flees to her car.

———

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

She blinks back at the yellow little fuel light, humming along to the stereo. She can push it for a while longer, probably. Maybe even to the district line.

What happens if she just drives? If she drives and drives and doesn’t stop. Lets the little light blinkblinkblink at her, keepin’ time with Reba McEntire and her dying husband. That’s the night when the lights went out in Georgia.

She’d have time to pull over, probably. Coast on the speed she was going, cut across to the gravel shoulder. There’s no one else around, anyway. She could recline her seat and cross her arms over her chest and watch the clouds through the dusty top of her windshield. Sleep through the night and wake with the mourning doves’ cooing. Then what? That’s the night that they hung an innocent man.

Walk, probably. On the side of the highway, along the stretch of dying grass and reedy weeds. Guitar on her back and backpack tucked under her arm, strolling under the balmy March sun and sing to the cawing crows, to the rushing cars. Well, don’t sell your soul to no backwoods Southern lawyer.

Someone’d pull up next to her, probably. A trucker or a group of hippies. Headed to Oregon, they might say, round glasses covering bloodshot red eyes. Need a ride? ‘Cause the judge in the town’s got bloodstains on his hands.

And she would need a ride. She’d sing for them, maybe. Pluck along to Hey Jude on her out-of-tune guitar and holler with the wind rushing in from the old broken windows. They’d know someone in Cali, of course they would, slip her their card. He’s a manager, he’s looking for some new talent. You’re just what he needs. Well, they hung my brother before I could say.

Right. A knocked-up nobody who’s paying for gas with her last few bills and the four quarters she found in a sticky mess of juice in her cup holder. She’ll go platinum, right up there with the Stones and the Roses. Naomi Solace, part-time mom, full-time country star. The tracks he saw while on his way.

She drifts off the exit to the first gas station she sees. The blink, blink, blink of the light irritates her, now.

The highway town she drifts through looks like a carbon copy of the dozens of others she’s been to in her life. The giant grey rest stop, the 24 hour McDonalds, the three separate Mattress Firms. She skips over the Buccees — the stupid mascot gives her the creeps — and pulls into the first gas station she sees. Dollar twenty a gallon. Jesus.

There’s an old man at the pump across from her. He stares as he pumps his gas. Nausea builds in her stomach, but whether that’s the gross factor or the avocado-sized mass growing inside her, but she doesn’t stick around long enough to find out. She sprints for the little convenience store at top speeds, shoving open the door and ignoring the startled cashier and stumbling into the little bathroom in the back, barely making it to the stained toilets before emptying the contents of her stomach. She can see the half-digested junior bacon cheeseburger she had for lunch. It makes her throw up more. It also makes her mourn the eighty-nine cents she spent on it. Fuck.

She walks back into the convenience store grimacing at the taste of her own mouth. Nobody tells you that mouthwash and water bottles account for approximately eight billion dollars of your pregnancy cost. Of course, Naomi has never asked, but that should be a bigger part of the condom ads.

Or abstinence ads. She’s not sure how helpful a piece of rubber is against godly sperm. Mary seemed to struggle with the ordeal. Godspeed to her — she gets why the Catholics are so bananas for her now. This shit is hard and she handled it like a champ. Good on you, Mother Mary.

“Just these?” the cashier asks hesitantly, poking at the travel mouthwash, the water bottles, the singular packaged pickle, and the tiny jar of strawberry jam. And the plastic spoon she grabs from the hot table.

“And pump number 5. Please.”

“…Twenty-three sixty.”

Gas and water and a snack.

Twenty five dollars.

She has to count out her coins, hyperaware if the cashier’s dirty look. She bites back a comment about how frustrating it must be for them to have to do their job when it’s so busy out, what with one customer. Shame. Because she’s used up her irresponsibility quota for the next few years, she reckons, so she oughtta bite her tongue.

Half her fortune poorer, she walks back out to her car. The gas nozzle is still sticking out if it. She puts it back while holding her breath — do gas fumes kill growing babies? They probably kill growing babies — and shoves open her trunk, digging around. Blanket — no. Forgotten impulse purchases from months ago — no. Umbrella — no. Grad cap — no, and also why.

Finally, she finds what she’s looking for. She climbs onto the hood of the car, digging into her jam pickle, and flips open the paper atlas, turning the many pages until the map of Texas stares out at her, huge and overwhelming.

Twenty-six dollars and forty-nine cents. That’s what she has left. ‘Round twenty bucks for a full tank — that’s what she has left. 400 miles on a full tank. Seven or so hours until she’s out of the state.

“I could leave,” she says aloud.

And go where? New Mexico? Barely. She’s nowhere near LA, she’s nowhere near New York; hell, she’s nowhere near Austin. She’s nowhere near anything. Not even the nearest Amtrak station. She could drive until she runs out of gas, leave her car on the side of the road, and walk — to where? To the desert? To some serial killer’s basement?

To fucking find Apollo again?

“This is ridiculous.”

Slamming the atlas closed, she stomps back into the convenience store.

“There a secondhand store near here?” she demands.

The cashier regards her for a moment. Taking her in, probably, her ratty jeans that she can’t button anymore, her stained pink sweater, the greasy mess of her hair. The jam sticking to the corner of her mouth and the sliver of stomach pushing over the waistband of her pants. Her peeling flip-flops.

“Not here,” they say finally. “Highway town, ma’am. Ain’t got shit but what you can see from the road. You wanna real store, you gotta head ten miles east to Blowshow.”

“There’s a town called Blowshow?” she asks incredulously.

“There’s a town called Sheffield,” replies the cashier, mouth twitching, “which no one calls Joansburg, on account that the mayor was caught with his secretary gumming his green bean behind his desk by the film crew of the local news station coming to talk about a recent policy change. It’s got a main road and a general store, and will most definitely have a secondhand store.”

Naomi nods, rocking back on her heels. “Anybody hirin’?”

“Well, I ain’t been to Blowshow since last Sunday. And even then only to come see my sister. I wasn’t lookin’ at help wanted signs.”

“There’s gotta be somethin’.”

The cashier hums. The busy themself with a stack of cigarette boxes behind the counter, fiddling with a strip of cardboard come loose.

“There’s a diner,” they admit. “Di’s. Worst turnover rate than any place I ever been to.” The glance over at her, eyebrows raised. “Frankly, you won’t last a quarter year.”

Instead of sneering something about bowing out quickly and how they must know lots about finishing early, because that’s gross and also uncalled for, Naomi simply walks out. She gets in her car and starts the engine and turns the radio to thirty, making the warbling over the speakers so warped she might as well be listening to static, and guns it east. Or what she’s pretty sure is east, anyway. It’s fifteen minutes the empty pothole roads give way to something that looks like it’s seen a person in the last forty years. A little house sits nestled in the trees, bikes strewn about the driveway. A few hundred yards down road is a jogger that she gives a wide berth. In minutes, she’s pulling into a proper town — a tiny town, with more trees than people, but a real town with a real purpose. She slows to a crawl, eyeing hand-painted banners and peeling signs until she finds what she’s looking for.

The secondhand shop is small, clustered, and smells like mothballs. A shelf of broken old toys blocks her view of the rest of it and any people that may live inside of it, so she steps aside it, stepping carefully around chipped tile and stacked up boxes, looking for the right section. (The right shelf, really; nothing in this store is big enough to be a section.)

She finds what she’s looking for in a dusty old corner near the very back. Behind a broken typewriter and an ancient fax machine, and more random wires and cables than she can count, is a little portable cassette player. A pair of wiry headphones are wound around the hunk of black plastic, foam ear muffs cracked and peeling, and the worn label on the side reads Isobel. She grabs the clunky old machine carefully, brushing the pads of her fingers over the peeling paper label, and holds it to her chest.

At home she has a proper CD Walkman. It’s pink and pretty and covered all over in shiny foil stickers, and it’s chipped on the side from when she dropped it down the stairs. It skips every sixth song of an album without fail and she has to skip three backwards and two forwards to hear it. She has a collection of CDs to go with it longer than her longest shelf, and they’re arranged by colour and favour.

On another shelf, she finds a series of chipped cassette tapes. She flicks through the selection, frowning, trying to restructure hopes that were set too high and read labels written thirty years ago.

“I’ve got an extra box of them by the counter,” says a voice, making her yelp.

“Christ alive, you could kill somebody,” she snaps.

The man shrugs. He wears the loudest shirt she has ever seen and cutoff shorts that are way too short for someone his age. There are streaks of blue in his white hair, and four sweatbands on his left wrist. Green purple grey yellow. One, two, three, four.

“I’ll take a look.”

She spends another ten minutes in silence. The box, at least, has a little more variety than the shelf, so she picks out what’s worth it. She ends up with a stack the size of her arm.

“I have ten dollars,” she lies, Mama’s lecture about showing your cards ringing in her head. “That cover it?”

“Beautifully,” says the man, shiny gold-tooth smile. His bug-eye spectacles gleam in the yellow light. He holds out his hand. “Ten bucks for the player and tapes.”

Looking him right in the eye, she hands him her last twenty-dollar bill. He glares, when he sees it, muttering something about liars and thieves. Strangely, he looks at her with a little bit of respect when he slams her change down onto the counter.

She walks back out to her car, unwinding the headphones as she does. She’s half-worried the ancient things will disintegrate in her hands, but they manage to stay whole, if a little warped. She slides in behind the wheel and pushes back the seat, settling against the itchy carpet upholstery. With a quick glance out the window to make sure there are no creeps, she pulls up her shirt, bunching it up around her ribs, and lowers the waistband of her jeans. She eyes her belly critically.

There’s definitely a bump. Not much she couldn’t explain away with a particularly filling lunch, but it’s hard and there and constantly kicking at her from inside. Slowly, feeling foolish all the while, she stretches out the headphones until both halves rest on either side of her stomach. She picks out one of the tapes, slides it in the player, and clears her throat.

“Listen, kid,” she says, trying to sound less embarrassed than she feels, “I don’t want some lame baby who doesn’t know that Tina Turner was country first, okay? That’s a — waste of my time.” She clears her throat, hovering over the play button. “I better get some engagement.”

The twangy guitar is loud enough that she can hear it through the headphones. Or maybe they’re just that bad. Either way, Alien Parasite should be able to hear it just fine, amniotic fluid be damned.

“‘Means your true love daddy ain’t comin’ back,” she sings along. She closes her eyes and relaxes against the recliner seat, bare skin tingling. “‘Cause I’m movin’ on, I’ll soon be gone. Mhm, hm hm. So I’m movin’ on.’”

At the crest of the bridge, as the guitar speeds up and beats get harder, there’s a point of pressure right above her navel. Another, a few seconds later, at her pelvis. A third right below her ribs.

“Acrobatic little freak,” she mumbles fondly, smiling at her stretched taught skin.

She adjusts the headphones, adjusts herself, and turns the music up louder.

———

next

[klarolineashur1919]

La Tua Cantante Series

Part 2

Romance Isn't Dead

Nina Pov

I'm crazy is all I could think about as I stood by myself at night in what looked like a sex trafficking target spot. I thought people would be out at night for the bars or restaurants but no, not one soul was out just my dumbass to see possible Italian mobster. I was right under the clock tower just like he said right in the perfect line of view for a kidnapper. The place was empty and here I was standing in the middle of the place clear view for anyone. It felt like a place a sniper has a bullseye on my forehead right now.

"When you know, you know..." The possible criminal is late, my feet started to wandered to the fountain near by.

"When you know, you know" I sit down on the side of it.

"It kinda makes me laugh, runnin' down that path" My hand runs through the water in the moonlight.

"When you're good as gold....Cause when you know, you know" I hummed along until I could feel a presence looking down at me.

"When you're old, you're old.....Like Hollywood and me, the diamond on your ring...The soul that you bring to the table" I looked up at his fascinating eyes. He was staring at me but it wasn't in a creep way. It was like he was admiring the view...I was it.

"One that makes me sing...In a minor key...Cause when you know, you know" He started to speak but I couldn't hear him. I slowly took out my earpods getting up from my spot.

"Hey" I do a little wave as he just nods and smiles at me.

"Good evening" He gives a very tense smile "I hope you weren't waiting long." He always looks so stiff with his hands behind his back and his stance so straight.

"Oh no...not long" I slowly make my way to him until I'm standing in front of him. We're just staring into each other eyes for a moment. It makes me look down giggling.

"I thought we could have dinner or go dancing or both" He says kindly smirking.

"That sounds fun" I bite my lip while we still stared at each other. He eventually offered me his arm, which I took with a light snort at the action.

He asked me about my day, how I got to his castle and how I met Heidi. I told him how I really just sat in cafes all day drawing and journaling. How it wasn't really Heidi that brought me to the castle but I just thought the castle itself looked interesting and somewhat crashed the tourist group.

"It wasn't Heidi" He asked almost shocked.

"I'm not into girls" I say jesting at his confusion while he looked to be deep in thought.

We got to a little fancy Italian restaurant after a short walk.

Demetri opened the door of the restaurant making me a say a quick thank you as looked at him slightly surprised by the gesture.

The staff looked stressed as Demetri and I walked in but there were no customers in the restaurant.

Demetri and them spoke in Italian as I watched the interaction it was very interesting. The host or owner of the restaurant was sweating profusely while Demetri wasn't rude though I had no idea what they were saying but he looked above the man's head as he talked to him.

The man eventually led us to our table tripping over himself as he walked which I noticed made Demetri roll his eyes while I bit my lip sympathetically. Demetri pulled out my chair for me and tucked me into the table.

"Thanks" I said in a kind of long way as I looked Demetri over intriguingly.

"Do I pique your fascination?" Demetri says teasingly at the look I was giving him as a waitress came shaking as she put glasses of water on the table, stuttered as she spoke to Demetri in Italian before walking.

"You're definitely in the mafia" I deadpanned making Demetri laugh but he ended up biting his lip as if he was thinking about something.

"I think I will leave that a mystery" He said coyly giving me a smirk that made me give him one back.

"A drive by isn't going to happened at any moment" I say with fake worry making him chuckle again.

"Oh no..no drive bys" He genuinely smiled but slowly faltered before he spoke "Would you say you lead an exciting life" he looked at me as if he was inspecting me making me hold back a scoff.

I shrug "I came to Italy on a whim for the summer so I guess I do try when I have time" I say slightly mocking "How about you...do you live an exciting life" I jokingly raise a brow.

"No all very boring" He says genuinely.

"I don't believe that" I say in a mock sly way.

"No its true. My life is extremely boring. This right here actually is the most excitement in months" He says nodding down to the wine that was shakily brought to the table.

"Do you mind if I order for you" He asks me politely making me shrug a little.

"I don't know italian so you might as well surprise me" I say watching him begin to order.

He had such a regal air about him I notice.

Maybe he's a prince. He has to be something special.

"Are you from Italy?" I ask watching the waitress is hurrying away.

"No, Im from Greece" He looked distance for a moment.

"I've always wanted to go Greece" I watched him intrigued by his actions and facial expressions.

He nodded with a somewhat sad smile as if he hadn't been home in a long time.

"How long has it been since you been on a date?" I said starting to get a vibe off him as this made him chuckled but pause biting his lip slyly for a moment.

"I don't really go on dates" He tried to say in the most gentlemanly way which made me chuckle.

"Then what do you go on?" I say mockingly raising my eyebrows at him. The look on his face I would've thought him being so pale I would've seen a blush on his cheeks but he almost looked embarrassed.

"I have a lot of....friends" He tries to say in the most polite way possible but it only makes me laugh.

"And am I to be your friend?" I mockingly inquire. This made all joking manner leave his face.

"No...your-" He says looking at me with eyes that definitely had me blushing.

"Different" I deadpanned interrupting making him smirk.

"Truly" He countered and I smirked at the comment.

"But you are right... I'm not going to be your friend" I playfully scoff as he looks at me intensely.

Me and him stared into each other eyes for a moment. In that moment I realized something. I never believed in love at first sight or soul mates. But this man across this table I feel a pull, a connection that was completely indescribable. I just knew he was going to be a huge part of my life.

No matter how long it would last.

[dwonfilm]

Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 at this point) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Supernatural level violence, fluff towards the end.

Mentions: Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Lucifer

Here’s Part V if you haven’t read.

Part VI:

Dean was bewildered, looking at Bobby with an expression that was all kinds of confused but also verged on the side of hope—though he’d refuse to admit it out loud. “You’re gonna help us.. what’s in it for you?” Sam questioned, just as confused as his brother. “What? I can’t simply want to help out?” Crowley quipped back despite everyone knowing it was a load of crap. That was given away by the expressions of both Winchesters. “Bobby, a word.” Dean spoke with a tone that was unamused but also cracking with bits of desperation. Bobby and the boys walked toward the kitchen, leaving Crowley to muse over the contents of Singer’s living room. Once all three were standing by the kitchen table, the eldest brother began to speak. “What the hell Bobby?!” Dean spoke, dragging his hand along his face. “Listen kid, I ain’t got time to sugarcoat this so I’m just gonna come out and say it. It’s been a year and a half, we’re runnin’ outta options here.” Bobby explained, causing Dean to physically wince and Sam to sigh. “I know it’s not ideal, but boys.. Crowley may be our last hope of getting [Y/N] outta hell. We’ve exhausted all the options..” Bobby was trying to be delicate as he spoke, Dean wincing again. It wasn’t hard to see that he was struggling. Sam spoke this time, seeing that his brother was teetering on the edge of losing it. “How do you know we can trust him, Bobby? He isn’t exactly the Queen of England.” Now it was the older man’s turn to sigh. “Don’t ya’ think I know that? If he crosses us, we gank the son of a bitch.” Singer was exhausted, the bags under his eyes a clear indication of lack of sleep. He’d been the one more often than not researching things, spells, ways to break someone out of hell. [Y/N] was like a daughter in his eyes, he’d made sure she was taken care of more often than not—just like he’d done with Sam and Dean.

“Tick tock ladies! You’re wasting time!” Crowley yelled from the living room, holding one of the family photos from Bobby’s shelf in his hand. It was from a couple years ago—both Sam and Dean, [Y/N] and Bobby. It was a happier memory, all four smiling towards the camera. Sam was the first of the three men in the other room to speak up. “Listen Dean, I think.. I think we do this. Bobby’s right—we don’t have many options left. If he screws us over, we make him pay for it but.. the longer we leave her down there-“ Dean’s eyes snapped up to Sam’s and the younger of the two immediately stopped talking. “You don’t think I know that?! You don’t think I’ve been kept awake at night thinking about what he’s doing to her.. what he’s making her do? I know first hand, okay. I just-..” Dean interrupts himself and it’s apparent he’s about to breakdown. “Listen boy, this may be the last shot we’ve got to bring her home.” Bobby spoke solemnly as he put his hand on Dean’s face. They stood there for a moment before the elder Winchester sighed. “Okay.” He said, looking at the floor and trying to keep any semblance of composure. “Okay.” Sam repeated. All three men stood there for a moment, mostly so Dean could pull himself together. It had been about five minutes before all three of the men filed back into the living room. Crowley was now seated on the couch, legs crossed and looking utterly bored. “Oh look, did the Brady Bunch finally come to a decision?” He asked, his accent strong on each word. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean just glared at the King of Hell. “What do you want—for helping us get her out?” Sam inquired, knowing there was something that Crowley wanted or needed from them. Before Crowley could speak, Sam added another part to his statement. “Tell the truth this time, we don’t have time to waste.” Crowley couldn’t help but to chuckle, his gaze moving towards all three of the men.

“Right now? Nothing. However in the future I’ll need assistance and who better to have an I.O.U. with than the bloody Winchesters?” He laughed again, and this brought a sense of unease between the brothers and Bobby too. “Vague. Of course.” Dean spoke, irritation bubbling in his tone. “Listen if you want to leave the broad to rot then by all means!” Crowley bit back and this caught Dean off guard. He tried to let the angry side be the side that came to the forefront but it wasn’t. Instead the sad part of him was what showed itself. “Don’t. Don’t you talk about her like that.” Dean’s voice was shaky, the emotion clear in his voice despite the attempt to conceal it. Sam shifted awkwardly on his feet, trying to move it along. “So—how are you gonna bust her out?” He asked, unsure if they needed to play a part in whatever was about to happen. Crowley stood up, straightening his black jacket. “Well, since it was an odd little kidnapping and she didn’t have to technically die.. there’s no need to dig up a body. Did you lot make some kind of grave for her regardless?” Crowley inquired, mostly looking at the elder Winchester. “I did. Why? What could you need from that?” Dean asked, not thrilled with her place being exposed to just anyone. “I don’t need anything sunshine. That’s where you’ll find her when I’m done. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a bird to free from a cage.” Once Crowley had finished his sentence, he vanished. Dean sighed, throwing his gun onto Bobby’s coffee table. “I’m gonna go to.. her place. I don’t know how long this little trip of his is gonna take but I need to just.. be alone. I’ll wait there.” Dean spoke, his eyes gazing down at the worn out wooden floor. “Alright. Take your gun, take one of those blades just in case. We don’t know whether that slimy bastard was telling the truth.” Bobby replied, leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen again. “Dean, I really think that I should go with you-“ Sam began. “No. Sammy, I know you’re worried about me. I know. I’ve just gotta clear my head. I’ll take my phone, my gun, the blade—everything. I’ll be okay.” Dean spoke, trying to reassure his younger brother. Sam wasn’t convinced but he knew better than to keep pushing. “Okay.” He replied, looking at his older brother with sympathy.

Meanwhile in hell..

[Y/N] wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, time simply didn’t exist in this place. She was exhausted, her body aching and loaded with scars. Lucifer knew exactly how to get to her, which wasn’t rocket science—for whatever timeframe she’d been imprisoned for, she was living the same few scenarios repeatedly. Right now, it was probably her least favorite one. She was in the woods, running, trying to move as fast as she could. Running as if her life depended on it. Because it did. It wasn’t exactly dark but it wasn’t light either, probably around sunset time. She couldn’t stop running even if she wanted to, because rational thought didn’t exist here. [Y/N] didn’t know she was in hell during these scenes of Lucifer’s crafting. All she knew was that these situations felt completely real. Every time. Occasionally she turned her head to look behind her, to see if what she was being chased by was still following her. Finally her feet stopped and suddenly they’d felt like they were cemented to the ground. [Y/N]’s lungs were burning and she wasn’t sure how long she’d been running. It felt like her bones had become cinder blocks and she was finding it difficult to even stand. Suddenly a twig snapped and she turned quickly to look in the direction it came from, but, then another snapped and it was in a complete opposite direction. “Well, well, well. Look who finally stopped running.” Her eyes went wide, watching as the entity that the voice belonged to emerged from the bushes. “Dean?” [Y/N] questioned, shock written on her face. “In the flesh sweetheart.” He replied, but something was.. off. She knew in her gut that something was wrong, from the tone of voice Dean was using and the way he was moving. “How did you know I was running? I mean, besides the obvious.. how did you know I’d be here?” She asked, though the pit forming in her stomach was giving her answer she didn’t like. “Oh, you don’t know?” He asked, everything about his tone sending uneasy chills throughout her body. “What? Dean, you’re scaring me. What’s going on..?” She questioned. Every instinct was telling her to run away, but in her heart she wanted to believe this was a mistake. [Y/N] wanted to believe that she was just scared from whatever was chasing after her and that was making her see things that weren’t there.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his green eyes dark and unreadable. He laughed dryly and she felt her hair stand up on end. “Dean..” she spoke, her [Y/E/C] eyes scanning his face for any sign of the man she knew and loved. He remained silent but took a step towards her, which caused her to step backwards. It was at this point that her heart began thumping against her chest. [Y/N] turned to walk away, but a hand firmly gripped her arm and stopped her in her tracks. “Where did you think you were going [Y/N/N]?” He asked, with the grip that he had on her arm getting firmer. She tried to pull her arm away from Dean, but that only made him hang on tighter. “I just.. ow, Dean you’re hurting me. Please.” She tried again to free herself but it just wouldn’t work. “Now now sweetheart, you’re tough. You can handle it.” Now she felt ill. There was no way this was her Dean, she didn’t know who this was or what this was but it wasn’t him. “What are you? You’re not Dean.” She stated plainly, her arm stinging with the pain of the hand holding it. “I’m not? That’s funny, been Dean all my life. My life that’s been dragged down by weak people.” Despite the fact that she could tell something was wrong, [Y/N] felt the sting of his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She spoke, the tone of her voice betraying the strong front she was trying to keep. “Oh, I think you do. I can hear it in your voice. You know what a burden you’ve been to me.” Dean’s voice was stern, cold—she couldn’t deny that the words were getting to her heart. “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t gonna work on me.” She replied, unable to keep her voice from breaking this time. “It doesn’t matter what your heart or your brain is trying to tell you. This is me, matter of fact this is me finally getting things off my chest. Look at me.” He demanded, despite her avoiding his gaze at all costs. If she looked into his eyes she knew she’d break down. This angered Dean and so he grabbed her face with his free hand and turned it toward him—just as she’d known would happen, tears welled up at the bottom of her eyes. “Oh, wow, look here! [Y/N] is crying. Again.” She cringed, he was so cold and she knew that something had to be wrong. There was no way he’d ever talk to her like this let alone grabbing her in this manner. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. It was like she was living in some alternate reality. “Now you’ve got nothing to say hm? C’mon [Y/N/N] you never stopped running your trap any other time. Matter of fact I can’t think of a single time you’ve been lost for words.” He spat, which would’ve caused [Y/N] to recoil into her shell if he didn’t have his grip on her.

“You know, I had enough on my plate trying to babysit Sam. That’s my family. That’s my flesh and blood. You? Well, all you were was a good lay. I knew you’d have a hole in your heart after your old man kicked the bucket. I’ve never loved you, [Y/N]. I pitied you.” Dean spoke and that was the line that broke any resolve she had left. Sobs broke the silence from [Y/N] and this brought a cold laugh from Dean’s lips. “You’re pathetic. I don’t know how I’ve stomached you and your bullshit for so long.” He continued, she couldn’t speak. Not one thing could’ve ever pointed to this happening, at least not in her eyes. All she could do was sob. Now her chest was aching for an entirely different reason than before. Finally, Dean released his grip on both her face and her arm, but she didn’t run. She couldn’t. Another dry laugh was pulled from the man that stood in front of her and she just felt herself shrinking. “Luckily, all of my struggles end today.” He spoke, which obviously caught her attention. [Y/N] was trying so hard to speak, but it didn’t matter. Dean had turned around and buried an angel blade deep in her chest. [Y/E/C] eyes widened as they gazed into the green ones they’d once happily get lost within. There was no love to be found in Dean’s gaze, only disdain. However it wasn’t finished there—in an action of true hatred, the man she once called the love of her life was twisting the blade. This was it—she was dying today. If there was any hope in her, it was snuffed out when Dean had pulled the blade back out of her chest. Cool silver drenched in her blood, blood which was gushing from the open wound. “Goodbye [Y/N.]” He said, shoving her to the ground where she’d land on her back. Deep crimson quickly staining the dirt. She looked up at the sky, slowly blinking. As a hunter it was almost a guarantee that violent death was the way you’d go. She just never thought that violence would come from the most important person in her world.

“[Y/N]!” She heard someone calling her name, but she couldn’t move. “[Y/N]!” Again a voice was yelling her name, they sounded so far away and yet so close at the same time. Now her breathing was becoming shallow and she knew that her last few moments were winding down. “Goddammit wake the hell up [Y/N]!” She gasped. Eyes opening to see a bunch of stone around her—so she rubbed her eyes before blinking furiously. “Well good morning sunshine, so glad you could finish your bloody nap.” Crowley spoke, which had [Y/N] scrunch her nose up. “C-..Crowley? What.. what do you want-“ She attempted to ask but she was cut off almost immediately. “Listen we don’t have the time for this ‘explain yourself’ shit okay? We’ve gotta go.” Crowley spoke, sticking a key into a weird looking gate and walking inside. If he had any sense of morality, he’d feel bad for finding her in such shape. Bags under her eyes, scars over her body. “Get up, sunshine. We’ve got places to be.” He spoke, grabbing onto her arm and disappearing from the corner of hell.

[Y/N]’s “place” (grave).

Dean had been sitting there for a couple of hours. Just staring at the wooden ‘headstone’ he’d made for [Y/N] when Sam had suggested it would be good to have a place that she could rest. Of course, the difficult part of that—if you could call it difficult, was that there was no dead body. It felt a little silly at times, making things for a grave that didn’t even hold the woman he loved. Sam was right though, as much as he’d hate to admit it. It had become a place for Dean to find an odd sense of normalcy. It became a place where he could break down and get drunk and just.. miss her. While it was true that Dean did the drinking and the missing her whenever he went, it just felt better when he was here—for lack of a sensible term. It was here that he found a connection to her, he felt her presence surrounding him here somehow. Saddened and tired green eyes had been staring at the ‘grave’. Dean had decided to bury one outfit he deemed pretty enough to spend the rest of time wearing. Alongside that he’d handwritten a letter for [Y/N] that no one else had ever seen, so he placed that underneath the dress when he’d buried the makeshift coffin. “Please.. I need this to work. I just.. I can’t go on living without you, [Y/N/N]. Man I want to trust this but we’ve been through so much, we’ve tried so much to get you back. Sam and Bobby think this may be our last hope of saving you, sweetheart. I can’t face a world where it’s hopeless, I can’t believe in doing good for anyone when the best thing was stolen from this world.” He’d done a good job up until this moment of not crying. Everyone that knew Dean for all of five minutes knew or could tell he wasn’t one for crying. It was a sign of weakness, that’s what he was always taught. Emotions were never something he felt fully, always trying to shove them down and lock them up. It was something [Y/N] had helped him with in their relationship.

It was at that moment that a weird noise caught Dean’s attention. He blinked several times to rid his eyes of the excess tears and tried to remain on high alert. No one except for Sam and Bobby knew where this place was but that wasn’t enough. Everything that they’ve fought, the things they come up against, they had their ways of getting information. Again he heard something and so he slowly drew his weapon. No one would invade her space—no one. Realization finally hit and he put his gun down, running over to the grave and beginning to dig with his hands. “[Y/N]!” Dean yelled, feeling anxiety building up inside of him. He was throwing dirt like a madman, trying to get to her. Suddenly there was a hole and Dean could hear coughing. “Baby! Baby.. I got you.” He replied, words flying out a mile a minute. Now his digging was redirected to where the hole began, hands coming up from the dirt. Once the opening was big enough Dean abandoned the digging and grabbed onto her arms. “Hang on I’ve got you, [Y/N/N].” He said, pulling while she was pushing and once her head broke through the dirt she inhaled deeply. It took about a minute more, but finally he was able to pull her entirely free from the grave. [Y/N] took several deep breaths, Dean gave her the space to come to the realization that she was alive. Slowly but surely, she began to blink and rub at her eyes. Once she felt she was seeing clearly, her eyes settled on Dean. He was nervous and didn’t want to spook her or move too fast. She tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak. About to try again, Dean decided to soothe her and take a step closer. “Hey, baby.. hi it’s okay. That uh, that happened to me too. It was hard to speak at first but it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He was speaking softly. Tears were brimming her eyes as she finally started to realize what happened.

“Dean..” she croaked, voice still strained but not as badly as it was before. Now it was his turn to feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.” He spoke, taking another step towards where she was sitting in the dirt. “Am I..?” She asked, voice again straining. He took the opportunity to close the space between them, sitting in front of her on the ground. Green hues danced along every feature on her face, giving her the same butterflies she’d always had. Dean breathed softly, using his hand to gently tuck some of your tangled [Y/H/C] hair behind your ear. “You’re alive, baby. You’re here where you belong.” His voice was cracking due to the emotion he was feeling. Dean continued to stare into those [Y/E/C] eyes and every heartache he’d felt over the last year and a half seemed to vanish. “..tell me something only you’d know.” [Y/N] said, still fixated upon his beautiful green eyes. “Wha-“ Dean paused. There was a pit in the bottom of his stomach because he thought he knew why she was asking. It would hurt but he needed to know if his suspicions were right. “Lucifer made this one of the scenes in your head, didn’t he?” He asked, knowing that more than anything the devil himself loved a good psychological torture method. Slowly her gaze sunk to the dirt and that felt like a knife to his own heart. He figured Lucifer would use him to fuck with [Y/N] but hearing it.. he felt so heartbroken. “You have a little freckle on your hip bone, you love to sing in the shower but you refuse to believe me when I tell you it’s good. Your favorite thing to do was sit on the beach listening to the waves. You made me go with you the day of your father’s funeral when you needed to breathe.” Dean was prepared to keep talking but suddenly arms were flung around his shoulders and immediately his arms wrapped around her waist. [Y/N] began to sob, clinging to the love of her life like he could be ripped away at any moment. Luckily, Dean was doing the same thing. Together they sat there, wrapped into one another and crying—these were finally tears of joy.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I am so sorry about the long delay between chapters. My mental health was rocky and also I suffer from mild arthritis in both of my hands and any time I sat to try and write, I couldn’t for very long without my hands aching. Here it is though! I hope you love it and I’ll do my best to lessen the time between this and the next one. I appreciate all of the support and love on the story!

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