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loverslantern · 3 months ago

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The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: A dangerous spirit is bound to an old family portrait that brings misfortune and death to anyone who buys it.

Warnings: Cannon violence and gore. flirting if you can call it that

Word Count: 10,688

Provenance

(Master list, Previous Chapter, Outfit Board)

Music thrums through the dimly lit bar, mingling with the hum of conversation and clinking glasses, drawing a crowd that fills nearly every corner.

I managed to escape from Sam and his research onto the safety of the dance floor two songs ago. And while I wasn’t always privy to dancing, it’s hard to ignore a live band.

So, I let the bassline sink into my bones, guiding my steps as I start to move. My hips sway in time with the sultry beat, each sway slow and deliberate. My arms lift, hands tracing soft arcs above me as I lose myself in the music. Then, fingertips brush my waist, and if they didn’t feel so familiar, I’d pull away. But, I know these hands, I know each callous as I feel them through my dress. “‘You come to dance?” I ask, turning in his hold to face him. He wears that charming smile, eyes dropped to my hips that still move with the music. “No, uh…” his eyes move back to my face. A smile stretches itself onto my lips as I tilt my head to indicate I’m listening even if I’m dancing. “Uh,” he turns his head away, “Sam was tryin’ to wave us down, but you were, um….” his eyes meet mine, “distracted.”

“Little disappointed that wasn’t a ‘yes,’” I tease, although I know he isn’t the type to dance. I slide my hand over his where it rests on my waist, gently pulling it away and taking it in mine. “Too bad Sam needs us, huh?” I say, starting to walk backward and leading him with me. “Yeah,” he sighs, “Too bad.” Something mellows in his eyes then, something I can’t quite grasp before I turn around and guide him back to our table.

The moment we reach Sam I collapse onto the little stool with a bright smile and a satisfied huff, taking my abandoned half-drunken soda into my hands. “Alright, I think we got something,” Sam announces, looking between us.

“Hit it!” I point at him.

“Oh yeah, me too,” Dean answers, glancing back at the bar to a girl I forgot he was talking to.

“Or not…” I mumble as he continues. “I think we need to take a little shore leave, just a little bit. What do you think, huh?” he asks, looking back at us, “I’m so in the door with this one.”

“So, what are we today, Dean?” Sam mocks. “I mean, are we rock stars, are we army rangers?”

I avert my eyes to the newspapers strewn about the table, pretending like I do not hear their conversation. “Reality TV scouts, looking for people with special skills,” Dean answers, and I can hear the grin on his face, “I mean, hey, it’s not that far off right?”

“You are being particularly icky with this one,” I comment, looking at him now as I bite on the thin black straw in my drink.

“She’s right,” Sam adds.

“Yeah, well it’s working,” Dean counters, “By the way, she’s got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam answers.

“Yeah, you can but you don’t,” he argues. I hit his arm, throwing him a look. He shouldn’t be pushing his brother like this. He can’t possibly expect Sam to be ready to move on when his girlfriend died only a couple of months ago, let alone not feel guilty for moving on. “What is that supposed to mean?” Sam bites back. But, I give Dean a ‘don’t’ look, they don’t need another thing to fight over. “Nothing,” he answers, taking my warning, “What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all…” Sam trails off, his findings coming to an abrupt end. “Dean!” he yells, gaining back the attention of his brother, “….No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside.”

“Could just be a garden variety murder you know, not our department,” Dean rationalizes, taking a sip of his beer.

“Says the guy who wasn’t paying attention,” I mumble.

“Hey!” he grumbles.

“What? It’s true!”

“Anyway,” Sam interjects, “Dad says differently.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, suddenly more interested.

“Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second one right here in 1945, and the third in 1970, the same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were slit, doors were locked from the inside. Now so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one.”

I have to give John credit, he seemed to have a hunch for these sorts of things and was persistent enough to keep up on it. It’s admirable at the very least. “Alright, I’m with ya,” Dean replies, “It’s worth checking out. We can’t pick this up til first thing though, right?”

I roll my eyes, though, of course, I'm not surprised. Not only does he not trust the legitimacy of a case until it has the John Winchester seal of approval rather than just trusting his brother, but of course, he’s immediately trying to go back to his potential hook-up. “Yeah,” Sam sighs.

“Good,” Dean grins, immediately going back to the bar. I don’t know whether to be disgusted or jealous. “Anywho,” I start, “I’m gonna go back to the dance floor, wanna join me?”

“No, you go,” Sam insists.

“Okay, well if you change your mind you know where to find me. Or, if you just need anything,” I offer.

Sam and I check out the Telesca's house while Dean reaps the consequences of a hangover. Either way, the house was a bust. There’s no sign of anything supernatural, in fact, there’s no sign of anything.

We approach the Impala and in it, a sleeping Dean occupies the passenger seat. He sleeps slouched with sunglasses on, I suppose to combat the sun for when he does decide to wake up and join us. Sam walks around the car sporting a mischievous smile as he leans into the open window and honks the horn. Dean jumps awake, his sunglasses slipping down his face. I scuff, laughing a little as I get into the backseat. To be fair, it is a little funny. And Sam, who finds it infinitely more funny than I do, laughs loudly as he takes the driver's seat. “Man, that is so not cool,” Dean grumbles, adjusting his sunglasses clumsily.

“We swept the Telescas with the EMF. It’s clean,” Sam informs, “And last night, while you were…well…out.”

“Good times,” Dean smirks, a satisfied look on his face. I cringe even though something sharp stabs my heart.

“I checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas,” Sam elaborates.

“Alright, so if it’s not the people and it’s not the house, then maybe it’s the contents. Cursed object or something,” Dean deduces.

“Yeah, funny story,” I start, “There’s literally nothing in that house.

“Yeah, you said that,” he counters.

“No, like literally empty,” I clarify, “Like empty empty, like more than just crime scene cleaners.”

“No furniture, nothing,” Sam explains.

“Which could mean it’s either in storage somewhere, given to family…”

“…Or at an auction,” Sam adds, finishing my sentence.

****

Beautiful classical music plays in the auction house, where nearly every surface is covered in trinkets or furniture. Nicely dressed people flutter around in their expensive suits and dresses, holding champagne flutes as they chat.

To say we stick out is an understatement. We aren’t dressed nearly as nice as we should be for a place like this. I mean, they have violin players here. I feel incredibly awkward as we walk around, it’s like everyone’s staring…. They might actually be staring. Maybe we should’ve gotten more entail for a place like this before coming in because it is a horrible day to be wearing shorts.

The class difference feels apparent not only just clothing but in manners. Their prideful eyes flip onto us, seeping in as if they can read us. They can sniff out our class the same way we can see theirs. And it’s no help that Dean keeps stopping for the finger food, shoving it into his mouth without care. “Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean comments.

“They’re usually nicer than this,” I respond, looking around, “I mean in terms of people and environment ...not that this environment isn’t nice but it’s…”

“Disturbing?” Dean answers, popping another piece of food in his mouth.

“I was going to say pretentious but that works too,” I nod. Thrift stores and estate sales were usually nice experiences but a place like this is more about boasting through showing your wealth than enjoying your search for items to complete your home or yourself. In other words, it’s a great way to remind you of your class and just how much you don’t fit in.

“Can I help you?” a voice suddenly asks. An older man with grey hair and blue eyes stares at us. Dean looks him up and down before shoving more food in his mouth, “I’d like some champagne, please,” he says putting on his best posh voice.

“No, baby, he’s not a waiter,” I cut in, putting a hand on Dean’s upper arm.

Sam holds out his hand, “I’m Sam Conners,” he greets. But, his introduction is not met with the same friendliness. The man just looks at him, not moving. Sam gives a sharp nod, retracting his hand, “That’s my brother Dean and my sister-in-law Y/N. “We’re art dealers, with Connors Limited.”

“You are….” the man searches for the word as he looks at us with skepticism. “Art dealers.”

“That’s right,” Sam confirms.

“I’m Daniel Blake,” he finally introduces himself, “This is my auction house. Now gentlemen and madam this is a private showing, and I don’t remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We’re there chuckles, you just need to take another look,” Dean answers, unamused, as he grabs a drink off a passing waiter. “Finally,” he mumbles, bringing it up to his lips.

“What I think my husband means to say,” I intervene quickly, the word sounding strange on my tongue. It’s a title seeped in irony—one I long for even though he spent last night with someone else. And yet, here I am, calling him my husband, craving a title that’s only pretend. “Names are such funny things. They just….slip on by. If you should like, I have no problem looking at the guest list with you so we can get this all cleared up.”

He raises his chin high, seeming to consider my offer. “Very well,” he answers, “Come along.” He turns around, stiff in his movements. I move away from Dean, my hand slipping off his arm as I throw back a wide-eyed glance. I follow after the man, moving further and further away from the boys. He goes to a security guy and asks him to go fetch the book because apparently, he can’t do it himself. “I don’t mean to come off as intruding but I didn’t see a ring on your finger,” he says.

He didn’t believe Sam’s lie. He’s testing me to determine our legitimacy. I put on my best smile, “You must have glossed over it,” I reason. I hold up my left hand, displaying a matching wedding band and an engagement ring. Both are aged silver bands, the engagement ring having a simple diamond at its center. It’s all I could come up with on short notice—quite literally in the seconds it took me to answer and raise my hand. “Charming,” he comments, lacking conviction. I put my hand back down, keeping the rings there even as my smile falters.

Finally, the rather thick book reaches the hands of Mr. Blake who simply wastes no time in cracking it open. He flips through the pages until he finds the names under ‘C,’ his finger skimming down the page. His face drops. He clears his throat. “Yes, there you are,” he declares, placing the book in a way I can see. His pointer finger is just below our names, newly placed by yours truly. “I apologize for the disruption,” he says, closing the book with a thump.

“Oh, that’s okay. With all those names it’s easy to miss,” I reply. I almost feel bad for deceiving him, he must feel crazy. But, we do need to figure out what killed the Telesca's and everyone before them so it is necessary. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go back to my boys,” I say with a nod, wanting nothing more to get away from this man….no offense to him.

I feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walk back to the Winchesters like he still suspects us and is just waiting for a slip. So, without a second thought, I move closer to Dean, slipping my hand beneath his blue jacket and resting it on his back. He doesn’t question it; his eyes flicker to mine, but he just pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. The warmth of him sends butterflies crashing into my stomach, and my pulse quickens until I can barely focus on anything but the solid warmth of his touch. My heart pounds so wildly that I have to force my gaze forward.

That’s when I notice the dark-haired woman standing in front of them. Her hair is pulled back with two curled strands framing either side of her face, highlighting her sharp, thin eyebrows and kind grey eyes that are fixed intently on Sam. She wears a black dress with a bit of a plunging neckline, accented by a sparkling brooch at its center. “But, Dad’s right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds,” she says, adding to whatever conversation was at hand, “Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asks.

“I’m afraid there isn’t any chance of that,” Mr. Blake says, his voice suddenly appearing from behind us. What could he have possibly found? “Why not?” Sam asks.

“I fear we have guests complaining about your….” he looks us up and down. “Appearance. We do have a very strict dress code.” A sigh escapes my lips, no way this constitutes us being kicked out. So much for creating a whole illusion.

“Well, we don’t have to be told twice,” Dean responds putting on his horrible posh voice again. He’s probably done with this scene.

“Apparently you do,” Mr.Blake retorts cooly.

“Okay. It’s alright,” Sam intervenes. “We don’t want any trouble. We’ll go.”

The day’s light filters in through the entryway as we step out. It’s hard to tell if guests were complaining about us or if he truly just wanted us to go. Either way, he got us to leave. We pause just a few steps away from the doorway, Sam already moving far ahead of us.

The sun catches Dean’s eyes as he turns to look at me, a smirk playing on his lips, “I guess I’m your husband now,” he says, his voice low. My heart stutters behind my ribcage and it takes all my willpower to keep my eyes on his and not let them dip to his mouth. “That you are,” I answer, an easy smile on my face.

“Maybe I should get you a ring,” he teases.

“Apparently, you have,” I hold up my left hand for him, the rings still there. He reaches for my hand, thumb brushing over the bands, his eyes lingering on the diamond. The gentle pressure sends a rush of warmth through me, and my stomach does about ten flips consecutively. He looks at me through his lashes, that smirk only deepening, “You bad girl.”

I gasp, taking my hand from his to hit his chest. “I didn’t steal them!” I insist, but he just catches my hand again, bringing his thumb back to the rings.

“Have to admit,” he murmurs, eyes sparkling as he meets mine, “I have good taste. Could’ve added a few more diamonds, though.” He says it so casually, with such cockiness, and it just fuels a quiet, barren dream that I now want more than anything. “Well,” I reply, feigning nonchalance. “You can keep that in mind for the next time we get married.”

I slip from his hold with a teasing smile, and he lets me go. I let the rings disappear from my finger, leaving the same way they came. At least I have control over them leaving. It hurts to give myself hope, and I don’t know why I do it. I fix my faltering smile before I spin around, walking backward as I speak to him. He hasn't moved from where we stood, something written on his face. “I really didn’t steal them. They aren’t real.”

****

“Were you really flirting with that girl?” I ask Sam, a proud smile on my face. He rolls his eyes, no doubt knowing where I got my information from. “I wasn’t flirting. We were just talking art,” he defends.

I laugh, “I think that might count as flirting. At least in your book.” I don’t mean to tease him too harshly over this, after all, I’m proud of him. Maybe that sounds weird but just like Dean I want him to be happy, and it’s good if he’s trying to move on after Jessica. “Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean mocks, “Where’d that come from?” he asks as we approach their room, bags in hand. I’ll go to my room later, as for now, it’s easier to stick with them.

“Art history course,” he answers simply, “It’s good for meeting girls.”

I laugh again, nudging his arm with my own, “Look at you go.”

He scuffs despite the smile on his face. Dean puts the key in the lock, turning it as he says, “It’s like I don’t even know you.”

He pushes the door open to reveal a complete disco-themed room. The walk-in is lined with black and white diamond wallpaper, and a metal divider made of circles separates the walk-in from the sitting area. Very ‘70s. Meanwhile, the sitting area has granite-like floors and completely black walls that contrast with the two white seats that face a long dresser-like table where speakers and lamps rest, and right above it an abstract painting sits. More of the same dividers separate the sitting area from the back where the two queen beds reside, the diamond wallpaper makes its reappearance there as well as the red carpet.

“Huh,” the boys hum at the same time.

“‘Huh’ might be an understatement,” I mumble, following after them into the themed room. I feel like we should be in Vegas with a room like this, that feels more appropriate. But, at least it’s fun…? They move deeper into their room, dumping their bags on their respective beds while I leave mine by the door. “What was…providence?” Dean asks.

“Prov-e-nance,” Sam corrects, “It’s a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past.”

“See, your art history class isn’t just helpful with getting girls,” I say, taking a seat on one of the white seats. Apparently, they found a painting that belonged to the Telesca's. The painting was a family portrait with two young boys in suits on the left and a young girl in a frilly dress holding a doll with matching clothes on the right. And, at the center a woman, likely the mother, sits wearing a dress with similar frills and ribbons as her daughter, a balding man with a serious face standing behind her.

“Speaking of girls…” Dean snaps his fingers at his brother, smirking.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam responds, smirking right back.

“Not me,” Dean laughs.

Sam’s face drops, “No no no, pick-ups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn’t my ass she was checking out,” Dean remarks, giving him a look.

“Sam, she couldn’t take her eyes off of you,” I add, “And I wasn’t even there for half the conversation.”

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” he responds.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team,” Dean reasons. “Call her.” I’m tempted to correct him and put it in kinder words. But, I stop myself as I realize that if we frame it as a proper date, he might back down. He might not feel ready to move on or feel too guilty about it and, frankly, no one could blame him.

****

A Re-run of Scooby-Doo plays on the large TV in front of us, the take-out we ate a while ago sitting in the trash can now as we lounge on his bed. Our backs lean on the cushioned headboards, the crisp motel blanket covering both of us as we sit side by side, close enough for our thighs to touch. He chuckles at some silly joke Scooby made, the sweet sound warming my heart.

I’m glad we decided to hang around if only to see him this content. I like the familiarity of this—of him. I wish we could have endless moments like this. If only we could live in a gap between time where all is well. I’d like that. I think he’d like that too. Time seems to melt together here where responsibility is put on hold to just…breathe. I hope Sam is having a good time on his date, that’d just make this whole day as perfect as it can get.

I’m pulled out of my thoughts as a plastic spoon comes crashing into my personal space, landing right in my (flavor) ice cream. “Hey!” I exclaim, laughter immediately bubbling from my lips, “You have your own ice cream.” He gathers a big spoonful and I don’t stop him or pull the container away. “So?” he shrugs, putting it into his mouth as he puts his arm around my shoulder, bringing me closer to his side. With a hand on his chest, I pull away enough to look up at him, “You’re ridiculous,” I say though my voice lacks conviction. His eyes meet mine, his head tilted down slightly, “Yeahhh,” he smirks, “But you love me.” He says it confidently as if he knows it's true even though he means it in a teasing way.

Then his eyes dip down and I can’t quite find the right words because the right words are “I do” and I can’t afford the truth. Not now….maybe not ever. This hunting trip has been a blessing and a curse. I get to spend more time with him than we probably ever had, and yet to be this close hurts. It’s as if he’s the sun and to even get in his gravity field would burn me right up. Though, maybe being like Icarus would be worth it. “You’re lucky I do,” I tease.

The click of the door tears my eyes away from him. “Sam!” I say excitedly as he comes into the motel room. “How was your date?” I ask.

“It was…” he searches for the words as he removes his blazer, “Good. I got the provenances.”

“Great!” I leap from the bed, leaving the rest of my ice cream on the nightstand, “I want to hear every single detail,” I take a couple of the manilla folders from him.

“There’s really not any details to share,” he answers with a tight-lipped smile.

I give him a pointed look, “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“That’s not gonna work on me,” I say, taking a seat on one of the chairs in the living room area.

“Fine,” he gives in, throwing his blazer over the back of the other chair before taking a seat, “The restaurant was fancy.” I practically hang onto each word, waiting for more to come. “And?” I ask, beaming.

“And the food was good.”

I groan, laying my head against the chair, “Dude, these are hardly details!” I twist in the seat to look back at his brother, “Dean, help me out here.” He looks up from the ice cream container in his hand, “This is all you, sweetheart,” he answers, shoving more ice cream in his mouth. Wait. My ice cream in his mouth. I roll my eyes, turning back around, “You guys are being such guys right now.”

A sheepish smile rests on Sam’s face, his eyes already on an open file. “Fine!” I give up, throwing my hands up, “Keep your date a secret!” I shake my head as I pick up a file of my own.

I get to reading as the room falls into silence that’s only broken up by the sound of turning pages. “So, she just handed the providences over to you,” Dean starts.

“Provenances,” his brother corrects.

“Provenances,” Dean repeats with a bitter tone.

“Yes. We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers…”

“And?” Dean asks, using the very word I had used. I look up from my papers, expecting to hear more information than he was willing to give me. “And nothing. That’s it. I left,” Sam answers.

“You didn’t have to con her or do any…special favors—”

“Eww,” I laugh, “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?”

“Hey, her head is in the gutter too,” he says and I can practically feel him pointing at me. I turn in my seat again, “I didn’t say anything!” I defend.

“You sure were thinking it though,” he remarks, a slight smirk threatening the corner of his mouth.

“And you know that how?” I counter giving him a pointed look. But, Sam cuts him off before he can get a word in, “Could you both stop, please?”

“Yeah, sorry,” I mumble, returning to my reading.

“You know when this whole things done, we could stick around for a little bit,” Dean offers, not exactly backing down like his brother wanted.

“Why?” Sam asks.

“So you could take her out again,” he answers. “It’s obvious you’re into her, even I could see that.” It’s quite a conflicting situation. On the one hand, maybe we shouldn’t push or encourage him to go on dates when he’s clearly still grieving his girlfriend. In truth, it feels wrong and inconsiderate but on the other hand, maybe encouraging him could help with the moving on and accepting process. Or, perhaps this isn’t our place at all and we should shut up. “Hey, Sam, you said the first murder was in 1912, right?” I ask, deciding to move on from the conversation of dating. “Yeah, why?” he responds.

“I have a family portrait here from 1910 with the first sale in 1912 to Peter Simms,” I explain, lifting the paper for him to see. Then, there's a familiar presence behind me, a hand resting on the back of my chair. “Peter Simms murdered in 1912,” Dean reads, holding his Dad's journal in his free hand.

“There’s another sale in ‘45 and then in ‘70. Does that match?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” he nods, confirming this was what we were looking for.

“Then it was stored until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam fills in the rest of the information. “So, what do you think, it’s haunted? Or cursed?”

Dean shifts behind me, the journal coming to a soft close, “Either way, it’s toast.”

Pitch darkness cloaks us as we break in, from climbing the ridiculously tall metal gate to the careful way Sam disarms the security alarm before Dean works at the lock with careful, gloved hands. Our flashlights guide our way into the quiet auction house. It’s so different now without all the people, more enjoyable even.

The painting is located quickly and cut from its frame with a switchblade. And as quickly as we came we left, doing almost everything in reverse. “Four minutes,” I announce, “‘Think that’s a new record.”

****

The cut-out painting lies in the dirt of a random side road. Something that took a lot of work and talent to do left to burn in the middle of nowhere. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me we’re doing the art world a favor,” Dean remarks, dropping the lit match onto the art piece.

This had to be some sort of crime.

I swing my legs off the bed, shoving my laptop onto the duvet as I get up to answer the knocking at my door. Before opening it, I tug my shirt to sit properly off my shoulder.

“Hey, we have a—” he stops short, those green eyes dropping to my bare legs. The oversized shirt I’m wearing only reaches mid-thigh. A smirk tugs at his perfect lips, and whatever he is going to say goes out the window. His gaze drags up my frame slowly, my insides going all warm and my stomach flipping in a way I wish it wouldn’t. “What were you up to?” he asks, the smirk still easy and lazy on his face. A huffed laugh escapes me, and I hope he doesn’t notice the blush creeping onto my cheeks. “What happened with ‘we have a…’?” I answer instead.

“What?” His eyes snap back to mine from wherever they were looking.

I laugh again. “Dean,” I say firmly, trying to keep the conversation on track. “What were you going to tell me?”

He shrugs, something he doesn’t do often, his smirk turning into a goofier smile. “I have no idea.”

I give him a pointed look, he’s messing with me now. “Come on, Winchester, focus.”

His eyes dip down again, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek as his gaze crawls back up. “Oh, I’m plenty focused.”

“You were saying something about ‘we have a…’” I try again, hoping to jog his memory.

“Problem,” he finishes, shuffling a little bit as he adjusts how he’s standing. “Right. A problem.”

I wait for him to elaborate, but he just stares at me. “What's the problem?” I ask, leading this conversation.

“‘Can’t find my wallet,” he answers, nodding awkwardly. I try not to let the surprise show on my face. All this because he couldn’t find his wallet? “Do you need help finding it…?” I offer.

“Yeah,” he nods, then pauses. “Wait. No. I think I dropped it at the warehouse.”

“What!?” I exclaim. “Why didn’t you say that sooner!?” Immediately I spin right back into my room. “Let me get dressed real quick,” I add over my shoulder.

He steps into the room, letting the door shut behind him as I rummage through my duffle. “Wait.” I pause, turning to face him. His eyes dart up to meet mine, eyebrows raised as if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t have. I brush his antics off as I ask, “Do you want me to just,” I raise my hands, wiggling my fingers, “magick it here.”

A small look of surprise hits his face as if he hadn’t thought of it. “Right. So–”

****

“You could have encouraged him instead of fake losing your wallet, you know right?” I ask, looking up at him as his brother and Sarah converse across the room.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he remarks.

“I don’t think making us think you could get caught for last night because you dropped your wallet is very fun,” I point out, crossing my arms across my chest. His wallet was in his pocket the whole time, which of course he knew about. What he really wanted was an excuse to get Sam and Sarah together again after their date. I don’t necessarily disagree with what he intended to do but it also isn’t exactly fun to be in the warehouse again. It’s like no matter what we still can't fit in.

But, he doesn’t need to say it. We both know Sam wouldn’t have come here otherwise.

****

“I don’t understand, we burned the damn thing,” Sam says, frustrated.

“Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious,” Dean grumbles.

“And we can for sure rule out it’s not a duplicate….somehow…right?” I ask even though I’m not convinced of what I’m saying either. But a girl can dream. Sam turns in the passenger seat, delivering me the nastiest pointed look to ever be received. “Okay. Okay. I get it,” I say, raising my hands in defense. “I was trying to be…hopeful.”

Dean nudges his brother's arm, getting him to lay off of me. “Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?”

“Okay, alright. We, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it’s always the painting’s subject that haunts ‘em,” Sam informs.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting,” Dean adds.

“Who do you think would know about them?” I ask.

****

The smell of old books fills my senses as we step into the second-hand bookstore, the little bell above the door chiming softly. It’s quiet and warm in the store with books stacked in piles littering the floor, making walking almost hard. Others are neatly arranged on tightly packed shelves in an attempt to fit more. If we weren’t here on business, I’d spend so much money here. I have to force my eyes away from the alluring spines of the novels, a gentle hand on my lower back encourages me to focus. I don’t need to turn my head to know the hand belongs to Dean.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?” the old man behind the counter asks.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam answers. The man lays out a huge book, dust sprinkling from it as he opens it to reveal the many news clippings inside. He’s well organized, I have to give him that. But, my focus is broken by the flicking of pages beside me. I look at Dean, his free hand holding open some old magazine about guns. Naturally, the guy encouraging me to focus is unfocused himself. But, he looks so happy as he flicks through the pages it’s hard to be upset. “Want me to buy that for you?” I ask softly, the words slipping from my lips before I have time to think. I kind of want to hit myself for that one.

But then he turns that smile on me and suddenly I do not want to hit myself. “I’m a big boy,” he says, his gaze dipping lower. “I can buy my own stuff.” His eyes slowly trail back up to meet mine, but his hand doesn’t stay still. It dips slightly, taking my stomach with it. His middle finger hooks lightly through a belt loop on my jean skirt, the rest of his fingers splayed on my very lower back. “You rarely buy things for yourself,” I point out. He only buys himself the necessities.

“I dug up every scrap of local history I could find,” the owner announces, pulling my attention forward. “So are you crime buffs?”

“Mhm,” I hum. “Yeah.”

“Why do you ask?” Dean asks, and I can feel the heat of his gaze pulling away from me.

“Well…” He holds up a newspaper article. The lead story, taking up most of the front page, is about the Titanic. But, a little further down to where he points is a side article titled: ‘Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.’

“Murder-suicide,” I mumble to myself. It’s certainly not the first.

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean says, stumbling on his words.

“The whole family was killed?” Sam asks.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids’ throats, then his wife, then himself. Now he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” he explains, his voice gravelly with age.

“Does it say why he might’ve done it?” I ask.

“Let’s look,” he answers, turning the newspaper around so that he can read it. “‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist.’”

It’s certainly not surprising news considering it was the early 1900’s. “Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…” he continues. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mumbles as he skims the page. “‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um….” he clears his throat. “So, instead, old man Isaiah…well he gave them all a shave.” He draws his hand across his throat, mimicking the motion of slitting one's throat as he laughs.

“That’s, uh, certainly one way to put it,” I respond, my words harsh. It was hardly a laughing matter. An entire family was killed because some guy let his anger and ego get in the way when all his wife wanted was to get the kids and escape his wrath. His laugh dies down pretty quickly once he realizes no one is joining in. “Does it say what happened to the bodies?” Dean asks.

“Just that they were all cremated,” he answers.

“Anything else?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family.” He shuffles through the papers in the book, “It’s right here….somewhere. Right—here it is.” He holds up the paper for us to see. It’s the family portrait from the painting.

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asks.

****

“I’m telling you, man, I’m sure of it. In the painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad’s looking out. The painting has changed,” Sam argues for the fifth time since we’ve been sitting at the table.

“Alright,” Dean finally gives in. “So, you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?”

“Well yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted then how are we gonna stop him?”

“Maybe not everything was burned,” I suggest.

“Kind of hard to miss something when you’re cremated,” Sam counters.

“Well yeah but that doesn’t mean a keepsake doesn’t still exist,” I point out. “Or, not even a keepsake but maybe anything that’s on his person in the painting that’s still around now. If it’s personal enough.”

“Maybe,” Sam nods, seeing my point. “And if we figure out what and burn it then no more killing.”

“Yeah,” I nod with him, “We just have to figure out what…somehow.”

“And where,” he adds.

“Well, if Isaiah’s position changed then maybe some other things in the painting changed as well,” Dean suggests. “You know it could give us some clues.”

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asks.

Dean's face goes blank, “I don’t….know..uh…I’m still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He rises from his seat and moves across the room to his bed, he throws himself onto his back and crosses his arms across his chest. I have to stop myself from ogling him with the way the grey shirt looks on him, especially with those forearms on display…

“Which is a good thing cause you get some more time to crush on your girlfriend,” he teases.

“Dude. Enough already,” Sam says firmly.

“What?” He answers in defense.

‘“What? Ever since we got here, you’ve been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, alright?”

“Well, you like her don’t you?” He reasons. Sam groans and rolls his eyes. “Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consulting adults,” Dean adds.

“What’s the point, Dean?” Sam responds, his voice rising as his frustration rises too. “We’ll just leave. We always leave.” It’s quite a reminder. The life of a hunter isn’t a kind one for many reasons, one of them being how lonely it can get. It’s knowing a normal life can’t ever truly exist because once this is embedded into you it stays. And he had tried to get away from the hunting life and it had worked for as long as it did with his girlfriend whom he was happy with until, once more, the hunting life caught up to him and he had to lose it all unfairly.

“Well, I’m not talking about marriage, Sam,” he defends.

“You know, I don’t get it. What do you care if I hook up?” he asks, getting more agitated.

“Cause then maybe you wouldn’t be so cranky all the time,” he answers calmly. Sam stares at him, then huffs out a breath and looks away. Dean sits up from the bed as he continues, “You know, seriously Sam, this isn’t about just hooking up, okay? I mean, I–I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you.” But, once more he doesn’t get an answer other than a sigh.

“And…” he continues softly. “I don’t mean any disrespect but I’m sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody like that…but…I would think that she would want you to be happy.”

Tears fill the younger Winchester’s eyes. But, Dean continues anyway. “God forbid have fun once in a while. Wouldn’t she?” “Yeah, I know she would,” he answers softly, a half smile managing on his lips. “Yeah, you’re right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” Dean asks. This time Sam doesn’t answer. And, luckily, I don’t have to give Dean a look to tell him not to push it because he lies back down. “Yeah, alright,” he says crossing his arms across his chest. “Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah so…”

A little surprisingly Sam picks up his phone, clearing his throat as he does so. “Sarah, hey, it’s Sam,” he says awkwardly. “Hey, hi….Good, Good, yeah, umm. What about you?”

I have to try not to cringe at how awkward this is. It’s uncomfortable.

“Yeah good, good, really good,” he repeats himself.

“Smooth,” Dean mumbles.

“So, uh, so listen. Me and my br—we were, uh, thinking that maybe we’d like to come back in and look at the painting again. I–I think maybe we are interested in buying it.” There's a pause before his eyes widen and he exclaims, “What?!” He stands up and paces, “Who’d you sell it to?”

Oh frick.

“Sarah, I need an address right now.”

****

The Impala roars up the drive, Sam and I not waiting for it to come to a full stop before jumping out. Sarah runs down from the driveway, her eyes wide in panic, “Sam what’s happening?” I hear her ask as I move past them and up the porch.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have come,” Sam says from behind me. I knock as loudly as I can against the door, “Hello?” I call loudly. Dean appears at my side, banging on the door and shouting, “Anyone home?” From what I can see the lights look off.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger, what sort of danger?” Sarah asks. But, unfortunately, she has to be ignored for now as we try and get in. Sam goes to the windows and starts banging on them as best as he can with the metal gates in the way. “I can’t knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it,” Dean announces.

“No time,” I intervene, shaking my head. If Sarah wasn’t there I’d blast it open but she doesn’t deserve to be brought into this life any more than she’s being exposed to it. So, instead, I cover my hand with my sleeve and put it on the doorknob. I apply a little magick, a stream of purple mist going into the locks. I turn the knob and push the door open, revealing the darkness that cloaks the house. “What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah remarks. I don’t wait for their conversation to pan out as I nod towards inside, quietly asking Dean if he’s going to follow. Unsurprisingly, he follows after me as I step into the house before he quickly takes the lead.

“Evelyn,” I call as we venture in deeper. I can hear the insistent steps that follow behind us, one set familiar the other not.

A soft glow of light stretches into the hallway just enough to lead our way. We turn into what looks to be a lounge. A blonde lady sits half-turned on the sofa. I take in the room swiftly from the burning candles to the painting that sits above the mantle. The father in the painting isn’t looking straight or down, instead, he looks at the daughter. “Evelyn?” Sarah says softly, appearing beside us. But, based on the lack of reaction or even recognition it’s likely that we’re too late. “It’s Sarah Blake…” She carefully walks into the room and closer to the woman. “Are you alright?” She slowly reaches a hand out to Evelyn’s shoulder.

“Wait! That’s not a—

“Sarah don’t. Sarah!”

Our warnings don't stop her. Evelyn’s head tips back, exposing the long cut on her throat. Sarah screams, the noise seeming to reverberate. Her head is barely attached to her neck, blood spewing from the cut rapidly. “Oh my God. Oh My God!”

Sam quickly intervenes, putting an arm around her as he leads her out of the room.

We’re forced to watch Sam pace back and forth even though we’re supposed to be researching. He’s been doing it all morning. He’s very distracting.

He finally stops with a knock on the door. The person behind it is the reason he was pacing in the first place. He opens the door and in storms Sarah. ”Hey. ‘You alright?” Sam asks.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn’s, alone, and found her like that,” she spews. Her hands are balled in fists at her side, a fire of determination burning in her eyes. And even though she’s angry, Sam’s face relaxes. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.

“Don’t thank me, I’m about to call them right back if you don’t tell me what the hell’s going on,” she demands. “Who’s killing these people?”

Sam looks at us for help, and the question is clear in his eyes. I shrug, I don’t feel comfortable enough to give a solid ‘yes’ but she won’t take no for an answer. She deserves an answer. He looks back at Sarah, “What,” he corrects.

“What?”

“It’s not ‘who.’ It’s ‘what’ is killing those people,” he elaborates. Expectantly, she looks at him like he’s crazy. He sighs, “Sarah, you saw that painting move.”

“No,” she says firmly. “No…I was…I was seeing things. It’s impossible.”

“Yeah well, welcome to our world,” Dean and I say in unison. I look at him a little shocked, “Jinx.”

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy,” Sam continues. “But we think that painting is haunted.”

She bursts into laughter, tears filling her eyes. “You’re joking.” But, of course, we aren’t. She looks between Sam and Dean and I. “You’re not joking.”

“God, the guys I go out with,” she mumbles. And for Sam’s sake, I hold back my laughter.

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that,” Sam explains. “Wherever this thing goes people die. And we’re just trying to stop it. And that’s the truth.”

She takes a deep breath, “Then I guess you’d better show me. I’m coming with you.”

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and…and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Look, you guys are probably crazy,” she says bluntly. “But, if you’re right about this? Well, my Dad and I sold that painting that might’ve gotten these people killed. Look I’m not saying I’m not scared because I am scared as hell but…I’m not going to run and hide either.” She strides over to the door before pausing and turning back, “So are we going or what?” Then, she walks out.

She’s cool. “Sam?” Dean says. Once he has his attention he points to the door after Sarah, “Marry that girl.”

****

“Uhh…isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah asks as I open the door again. We didn’t have to rush inside this time but it’s easier than waiting for a lock to be picked. I probably should’ve done it when we broke into the warehouse….

“It is,” I answer as we walk in. “If it makes you feel better your prints are already inside…and on the victim and because you found her they’ve already been cataloged or considered. So a couple more won’t make a difference seeing as they likely don’t suspect you. I mean, they let you go after getting your statement so that’s good.”

She looks at me a little strangely, a tight-lipped smile on her lips. I’m probably not helping the crazy allegations. “I used to do the whole crime investigation thing….sort of,” I try to explain. The writing job I had was a weird one because I wasn’t really doing any crime investigation, I’m not certified like that. But I did need and use skills that investigators might have. It was kind of an excuse to be a nerd and write. Also, it paid well. She nods. I don’t think I’ve been convincing…maybe I should stop speaking. “You’ve already lied to the cops. What’s another infraction?” Dean remarks as Sam lifts the painting down from the wall.

“Aren’t you worried that it’s…gonna kill us?” Sarah asks.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night,” Sam answers. “I think we’re alright in the daylight.”

Dean takes the photocopy of the original painting out of his pocket and holds it up in comparison. “Check it out. The razor, it’s closed in this one but it’s open in that one,” he points out.

“What are you guys looking for?” she butts in.

“Well, if the spirit’s changing aspects of the painting then it’s doing so for a reason,” Dean explains.

“What’s that thing in the painting,” I ask, squinting and pointing behind the family. “I mean the painting that’s in the painting.”

“Looks like a mausoleum,” Sam answers with a tilted head. Dean looks around before grabbing a glass ashtray from an end table. He holds it up to the mausoleum. “Merchant,” he confirms.

****

Carefully I step around the gravestones, no need to upset any more dead people. “This is the third boneyard we’ve checked,” Dean complains. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

“At least we’re looking for a whole building rather than a lonely gravestone,” I point out. This way we can beeline to the building area instead of searching each line of graves. “So this is what you guys do for a living?” Sarah asks.

“Not exactly. We don’t get paid,” Sam answers.

“Well, Mazel tov,” she remarks.

After venturing deeper into the graveyard we found the mausoleum, the ‘Merchant’ name carved right into it. Dean breaks the lock, revealing the mass of cobwebs and dust. Various nameplates fill one wall while the other side holds the urns all lined up with glass-fronted boxes built into the walls. But the number of urns is weird.

“Okay, that right there,” she points at a doll in one of the boxes. “Is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“I think it’s cute,” I shrug. The doll isn’t creepy, it’s quite normal with its brown hair and white dress. There isn’t an eye missing or a smudge on it. “Well, it was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam explains. “Whenever a child died sometimes they’d preserve the kid’s favorite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

“Notice anything strange here,” Dean asks.

“Yeah, there’s only four urns,” I answer. “And unless I suck at counting there should be five.”

“Daddy dearest isn’t here,” he confirms.

“So where is he?” Sam asks.

****

An office building, a lot of lying, paydirt, and possibly interrupting an almost kiss between Sam and Sarah later leads us to another graveyard, a grave, and some shovels. According to what Dean and I had found, the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were ashamed of Isaiah enough to not want him to be kept with the rest of the family. So, he was given over to the county who gave him a simple burial. Not a cremation. Therefore, a body to burn. Which again, leads to the shovel in my hand. Bad day to wear a white shirt because now I have to keep my zip-up on and digging up a grave is already a workout. Yay, sweat.

Sam lifts himself out of the grave to stand with Sarah and her flashlight. Even with 2-3 people digging it’s a lot of work. I don’t even want to know how long we’ve been at this for. “You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she comments.

“Well, uh, this isn’t exactly the first grave we’ve dug,” Sam responds. “Still think I’m a catch?”

She laughs and God they need to kiss already.

Finally, Dean’s shovel hits something hard. “Think I’ve got something,” he announces.

“Oh thank God,” I sigh, leaning on the handle of my shovel as I wipe some sweat from my forehead. “This so sucked.”

“Now you can stop worrying about your pretty little shirt gettin’ all dirty,” Dean remarks. I roll my eyes, of course, he picked up on that. “I’m gonna hit you with my shovel,” I threaten, my smile ruining the seriousness of my words.

“Are they always like this?”

“Yup.”

“I’d like to see you try,” he counters as he looks me up and down.

“And I’ll hit both of you,” Sam threatens, peering into the grave.

“Okay Obi-Wan Kenobi,” I mumble as I help Dean clear up more of the dirt to open it.

“Nerd,” Dean remarks.

“Dude! You saw the movie too!” I defend.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “Move back so I can open this.”

****

Lighter fluid and salt in place, Dean strikes his match. “You’ve been a real pain in the ass Isaiah. Good riddance.” He tosses the match in, everything going up in flames.

****

The Impala pulls in front of Evelyn’s house, hopefully, for the last time. “Keep the motor running,” Sam directs, opening the car door.

“I thought the painting was harmless now,” Sarah says beside me.

“Better safe than sorry. We’re gonna bury the sucker,” Sam explains.

Sarah gets out of the car, declaring, “I’m going with you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she answers, something shining in her eyes. Okay, now they really need to kiss. Sam tries to get out of the car again before Dean stops him, “We’ll stay here, you go make your move.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes as he gets out of the car. “Sam. I’m serious!” But, he’s ignored as they round the car and move up the stairs. Dean turns on the radio, a silly love song playing. I have to shake my head with how obvious it is, the upbeat tune paired with lyrics like “I’m in love with a girl that I’m talking about…I’m in love with a girl I can’t live without…” Sam practically whips around to give his brother a dirty look. But, Dean being Dean shrugs, seeing no problem with his intervention. Sam motions for him to cut it off, his eyes wide. Surprisingly, Dean shuts it off but not without sighing. “I’m fairly sure they’ll kiss even without your ridiculous music,” I say as I watch them enter the house.

“It’s not ridiculous,” he counters.

“I love a good love song but that was painfully obvious, Dean. Plus, can you really kiss to that one?”

“One way to find out.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna try that on your next hookup?” I ask. He shakes his head but I can’t see his face from where I sit in the backseat and with his head downturned I can’t use the rearview mirror either. But, I don’t have time to dwell on it and he has no time to vocalize an answer when our attention is taken away by the front door slamming.

He’s out of the Impala and up half the stairs before I can open my door. “Sammy, you alright?” he calls out, shoving himself against the door. His phone rings a half second later and I don’t think I’ve seen him pick up his phone quicker. “Tell me you slammed the front door,” he says. And I try to connect the pieces of the conversation with only half of it. Something with a girl. “Wasn’t the Dad looking at her?” Dean asks. “Maybe he was trying to warn us.” Well, that answers what girl.

“Hey, sweetheart?” He suddenly directs at me. “Could you—” I nod before he can finish. I know what he wants. “Move back,” he tells them. I know this time simply unlocking it won’t work with a spirit being the one to keep it closed. I guess Sarah gets to see a door exploding anyway. “Wait! What do you mean no time?!” But my hand is already raised, a blast of energy going right through the door. Shards of wood explode inward.

“Where’d they go?” I ask, the entryway clear of people and spirits. When he told them to move I thought they’d remain close by, not disappear. “Damn things on ‘em,” Dean answers, moving past me to go in headfirst. “Sammy!” he yells. But there’s no response. “What could be left behind?” I ask, following after him, “We saw her urn!”

“I don’t know,” he throws back. Something crashes and slides fast behind me. I spin around, a large wooden cupboard now blocking the remains of the front door. Closing us in. “Really?” I get it doesn’t want us to leave but I just broke the door. “Sammy!” Dean yells. Something else slams and this time Dean’s gone too. “Dean! Sam!” I call, moving further down the hall. How big is this house? My phone buzzes in my pocket. I fumble for it, flipping it open before I can catch more than the first letter of the name. “Where did you go? I looked away for two seconds and you were gone. Are you with Sam?”

“I’m a little stuck right now,” he answers, his voice sounding a little gruffer.

“Where are you?” I repeat, spinning around slowly for any sign of where he went.

“That doesn’t matter I–”

“It kind of does,” I cut him off.

“Listen,” he says firmly. “I need you to do something for me, sweetheart,” he groans.

“Dea—”

“Think you can do somethin’ for me?”

“Yeah, Dean jus—”

“You gotta get back to the mausoleum and burn the doll, it might have her real hair,” he directs. ”The keys are in Baby, g—”

“I can get there quicker than that,” I cut him off. “Just…be safe and find Sam.” I hang up before he can say anything more. I roll my shoulders back, I can do this. I’ve teleported before. Hell, I managed to teleport to a place I’d never seen before back with the asylum hunt. This may be further but I’ve been there once so that’s going to have to be close enough. Also, I have no time for this. I exhale, summoning my powers forward. I don’t have time to focus on what I want as I did at the asylum. So, I put all my hope into it working as simply as I can. I flick my wrist and envision the inside of the mausoleum. Then…I’m there.

Man, I’m getting good at this.

I waste no time in sending a small blast of energy at the glass covering. It shatters in the box, covering the doll in glass. Carefully, I lift the doll out of the box and hold it in one hand as I hold my pointer finger up. A little flame ignites from the tip of my finger, not hurting me in the slightest. “Sorry doll,” I mumble, holding her hair over the flame. Quickly, it ignites. Her brown hair goes up in flames and with it, I hope, the spirit of the ghost girl. I shake off my finger flame, not needing it anymore with how flammable the hair is. I put the doll down on the stone floor, letting it go up in flames as I take out my phone. I click on Sam’s contact, bouncing on the balls of my feet, nervously, as it rings. Please be okay. “Sam! Oh my god, are you guys okay? Did it work?”

“We’re not bad.”

At the auction house, workers buzz around packing various things up in crates. The spirit is dead for good this time and no one else got hurt. “This was archived in the county records,” Dean announces, walking over with some papers. “The Merchant’s adopted daughter Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? ‘Cause her real family was murdered in their beds.”

“She killed them?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah,” Dean answers. “Who’d suspect her? ‘Sweet little girl. So when she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit’s been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Guess she figured she couldn’t get away with it twice,” I say, thinking out loud. Yet, through death, she was able to get away with it continuously.

“So where’s this one go?” One of the workers asks, holding up the Merchant family portrait.

“Take it out back and burn it,” Sarah directs. Both workers seem to pause at once, looking at her strangely as if she might be joking despite her serious tone. “I’m serious guys. Thanks,” she insists. She looks back at us, the workers walking off with the painting. “So why’d the girl do it?”

“Killing others? Killing herself? Some people are just born tortured. So when they die, their spirits are just as dark,” Sam answers.

“Maybe,” Dean adds and I agree with that far more than the idea that people are born evil when it’s more complicated than that. “I don’t really care,” he continues, “It’s over, we move on.”

“Ahh,” Sarah sighs. “I guess this means you’re leaving.”

I nudge Dean as he looks between the two. This is our cue to leave. “We’ll go wait in the car,” Dean says. “See you, Sarah.”

“It was nice meeting you,” I add, giving a little wave before we head out. “Now I can give you your thing,” I tell Dean.

“What ‘thing’?” he asks, looking confused.

“You’ll find out in just a second,” I laugh, skipping in front of him. I get to the car first and open the back door. I bend down as I open my duffle, taking what I left on top in my hands. I zip up my bag and turn to him holding it behind my bag before the big reveal. “Okay, it’s stupid,” I warn. “But here.” I hold out the magazine he had been reading at the old bookstore the other day. His eyebrows rise, and his mouth parts as if he wants to say something, except nothing comes out of his mouth he just smiles and takes it from my hands. “Sweetheart…” he trails off, looking down at the magazine. I smile brightly as he looks at it, practically beaming where I stand.

Then, a knock swifts both of our attentions. I look up at the auction house door, Dean turning to do the same. And right there in the doorway, Sam kisses Sarah, his head bent down to her level and his hands on her waist. “That’s my boy,” Dean smiles.

(Next Chapter)

Tag List: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra @fablesrose @ada--44 @bonkydarnes @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara @mxltifxndom @stilesxreid @chaotic-luvrs @tiggytaylor @deanwasscaredbyacat @imaginexred @daisychaingirl

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #the hunter and the witch #sam winchester #dean winchester x witch reader #slow burn #john winchester #supernatural season one #dean winchester x f!reader series #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #witch reader

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 years ago

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Chapter 2: What's Cookin' Good Lookin'?

Summary: After you meet Javier Peña giving a presentation at your elementary school, you get ready to meet him at your co-worker's backyard cookout. You just hope that he remembers you.

Warnings: Mentions of Javi's past with the DEA, mentions of grief/death, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of blood and needing first aid (nothing major), Javi taking care of you, allusions to sexual tension, you being a sarcastic asshole and Javi being too smitten to care

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: Shout out to Chucho Peña for being the G.O.AT. And Javi putting his DEA first aid skills to the test. Thank you for the likes and reposts! These two are fun to write.

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Javi couldn’t think of the last time that he had turned on the radio in his truck. It had practically gone untouched since he had returned home to Laredo. But today, on his way back to the Sheriff's Department, he had put music on full volume the whole drive. His brain overflowed with images of you. Your smile, your laugh, God, the way you looked in that damn dress. The sweet smell of you still lingered in his mind as you had gotten only inches away from his lips. “See you on Saturday.” If he had known that today’s trip would have ended like this, he would have become the damn D.A.R.E representative of the office. He was so consumed with thoughts of you, that it wasn’t until he had passed City Hall that he realized he had driven by the Sheriff's Department 15 minutes ago.

“How’d it go, Peña?” Javier could barely take 3 steps into his office before Carter was already at his door. “You sure look happy.”

“Hey, look who made it out alive!” A 2nd voice chimed in from outside the office door, Carter’s partner, Detective Miller.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be that bad! Was the hot one there that I told you about? Jesus, I’d go back to do that stupid ass presentation again just to see her.”

“God I hope she was, she must have been out sick the day I went because all I got were 3 middle aged ladies and disappointment.” Carter and Miller laughed to each other.

“Definitely would have paid way more attention if she was my fuckin’ teacher, god damn, she is a hot piece of a-”

Javier was no stranger to his co-workers checking out women on the job, hell, he was guilty of it too. But there was something about the conversation that made his stomach churn with jealousy.

“She’s got a fucking name, alright? Don’t talk about her like that.” Javier snapped, leaving the two men standing in his doorway stunned. Given his reputation, Carter and Miller thought Javier would be quick to join in on the banter.

“Jesus, sorry man. Just trying to have some fun.” The two backed out of his office, not expecting such a reaction from him. Carter was just about to open his mouth, hoping to gain some intel from Javier’s trip, but before he could, Miller gave him a silent shake “no”, gesturing to get the hell out before Carter did something else stupid to piss their boss off.

Despite his interaction with Carter and Miller, Javi spent the rest of the day in a surprisingly good mood.

Fuck, did he feel… happy?

It obviously wasn’t a look that Javier wore often, considering that as he left the office for the day and gave a smile, accompanied by “Have a good night!” to the office secretary, she looked up at him with legitimate concern and asked if he was okay.

Dust swept around his truck as Javi pulled down the dirt driveway to the front of the Peña ranch. The quaint house was nestled amongst acres of farmland, sat in front of a well loved barn where the horses were kept. The porch was lined with a colorful arrangement of flowers and figurines, all lovingly placed by Lucia, and even more lovingly tended to by her husband, Chucho, who swore his best to keep her garden alive after she no longer could.

The front door let out a faint squeak as Javier made his way through, taking off his shoes and setting down his things before making his way over to the fridge. Reaching at the handle to grab a beer and something to eat, he saw the bright yellow sticky note placed at eye level as he bent down.

Javi,

It’s Wednesday. I’m with Las Vengüenzas (The Embarrassments) for cards. Will be back around 9. There’s leftovers in the fridge. Símon is being an ass today. Watch out.

Love, Pops

Chucho Peña was notorious for leaving notes everywhere around the house. Javi was pretty sure if he didn’t make a bi-weekly trip around the ranch, the entire thing would be covered in yellow post-it notes.

After inhaling half of a leftover sandwich, and finishing off his beer, Javi slipped on his boots and made his way out to the barn to round up and feed the horses for the night. Before accepting his new position at the Sheriff's department several months ago, Javi spent the beginning of his time home from the DEA working with his father on the ranch. When he came home from Colombia, he didn’t really have a plan. Just that he couldn’t take working for the DEA any longer. Even after he had leaked the dark, unsettling truth of what had happened with the Cali Cartel and made a point to politely tell the DEA to fuck off, Javi would still receive the occasional call asking him if he would consider coming back to help fight the drug war raging across the border in Mexico. The request to fuck off got less and less polite with each call.

Still, Javi felt unsettled resigning himself to a life of ranching forever. His body had proved to him that he definitely was not as young as he once was, and he couldn’t help but miss the fact that what he was doing held some sort of significance to make things better.

When Dean Morris approached Chucho about the new training position opening up for the department, he told the elder Peña that the office was willing to do just about anything to have Javi be a part of their team. No field work, normal office hours, pay raise, and good benefits. Just providing his expertise and knowledge to new recruits and staff about strategies to stop trafficking across the border. Javier had considered the option of telling him to fuck right off too, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like an idiot to pass something like this up. He felt guilty leaving his position at the ranch with his dad, but his father assured him “If I could do it all these years while you were gone, I’d sure as hell look like a fool if I couldn’t keep doing it now. Don’t think you’re still getting out of helping while you’re around, though. You can promise your old man you won’t leave me too high and dry. ”

So here Javi was, making good on his promise. As he opened the gate to the barn, 2 of the horses trotted up to him immediately, knowing that it must be close to dinner time. 3 more slowly followed, leaving one left for Javi to corral.

Where the hell was he?

“Son of a bitch.” Javier muttered to himself, noticing that the last horse he was looking for was all the way across the field, perfectly content where he was standing. Chucho was right, Símon was going to be a pain in the ass today.

“Símon! Get your ass over here! I’m not going all the way out to get you!”

Nothing.

“Fine, starve to death, see if I care.” Javi had a sweet spot for animals, but Símon’s unruly antics tended to make the horse an exception to the rule.

Javi turned his back and made his way to the other 5 horses choosing to give him much less of a hard time. Javi filled the troughs with food, leaving the horses happily munching on their dinner. As he got one last scoop from the bucket to place into the trough, a soft muzzle bumped its way under the scoop, causing the food to fly everywhere. Símon let out a loud whinney, mocking Javier for letting out a startled yell and dropping the remainder of the food all over the floor of the barn. “Stupid ass horse…” Javi grumbled.

As Javi ventured his way back to the house, several more lights had been turned on inside the house, signaling that his dad must be back from his weekly cards night.

Kicking his boots off on the back step, Javi greeted his father. “Hey Pops. You were right about Símon. Pendejo scared the shit out of me and knocked a whole scoop of food out of my hand.”

“Well from what I gather, it seems like that’s a small tarnish on what otherwise seems to be a pretty good day.” Javi could hear the delight in Chucho’s voice from around the corner. He had forgotten that both Maria and Estelle’s husbands were a part of Chucho’s card club, and were probably both delighted to gossip to their husbands about their eventful day at school.

Javi joined his father in the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the dining room table and plopping himself in it. “Word travels fast, I guess.”

“Not fast enough for Maria, apparently. She called me as soon as she got home from school to tell me about today. She was delighted to see you, and even more delighted to tell me that apparently you’re now joining me for the cookout that you very adamantly told me you weren’t going to.” Chucho raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I heard she’s a sweet girl.”

Javi rubbed his hand across the width of his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Pops, listen, it’s not that big of a deal, I just met her today. She seemed nice.”

“Must be a little more than just nice if you’re willing to go through the ringer your mother’s friends are about to put you through on Saturday.” Chucho now delighted in the fact he could tell Javier was becoming increasingly more sheepish as the conversation continued. “Ah, the things we do for love…”

“Dad, listen I-”

“I know, I know, you just met her. But let me tell you hijo, I knew from the moment that I laid eyes on your mother, she was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. The fact that you’re volunteering yourself to talk with your friends and family you’ve been avoiding since you’ve been home just for another chance to see her? She must be something special.” Chucho sighed, and made his way past Javi, extending his arm out to pat him on the shoulder as he passed by. “I just want you to be happy, hijo. Sounds like today was a good start. Well, this old man is off to bed, I may not be beautiful, but I sure need my sleep. Good night, Javi.”

“Night, Pops.”

Chucho retreated to this bedroom, leaving Javi alone in the kitchen. Javi stared at the pictures hanging on the wall across from the table. His gaze traveled across the wall noting the variety of framed photos. Him as a toddler in nothing but a cowboy hat and diaper, his mother and father standing next to him holding his diploma from his high school graduation, and Chucho and Lucia slow dancing together at their 25th wedding anniversary party. Javi smiled at the joy and happiness radiating off their faces in the photo.

Today was a good start.

You were convinced that time could not have moved any slower than it did between Wednesday and Friday. Exhausted from the end of the school year excitement, you were sure that even a constant IV coffee drip was going to be enough to keep you alive for the next few days. The only thing keeping you going was Saturday. Specifically, Javier Peña.

Your week became a little more bearable in the moments in the staff lounge you got in between inhaling your lunch, listening to your co-workers drabble bits of information about Javier and the Peña family. You tried to absorb as much of it as you can, without trying to sound too over-eager or ask too many questions. On Wednesday, after your encounter, you asked at lunch how the ladies knew Javi. From there, you had learned that his late mother used to work with the rest of the 3rd grade team before passing about a decade ago (And had been inseparable up until then), he had started his new job at the Sheriff's department a few months ago after returning back to Texas (but you couldn’t figure out where or why he was gone), and they were definitely not a fan of some woman named Lorranie (you weren’t sure why on that either, but the look on their faces told you Lorranie was bad news). If there was one thing your co-workers loved to do, it was talk. While you were happy it provided you with some intel about Javi, the thought of what these ladies had been saying about you behind your back was also petrifying.

Some way or another, you finally managed to make it to Friday at 4:00 PM, students now all gone from your classroom and headed home for the weekend. With the few ounces of energy you had left, you began to gather your things from your desk to pack up and head out with the promise of Saturday finally on the horizon.

As you were turning off your lights and closing the door behind you, the 3 Amigas of 3rd grade came strolling up behind you.

“So, mija, are you excited for tomorrow?” Maria said, giving you a playful nudge in the arm as you joined the group of ladies walking down the hallway towards the parking lot. You could already feel your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. Of course you were excited for tomorrow. The thought of seeing the tall, broad and handsome man that was Javier Peña was the only thing you through this week. His deep brown eyes, the way his shoulders stretched the back of his navy blue suit, his hands? You had only known this man for less than a week, yet the image of him flooded your brain every day since you met. Not to mention the fact you hadn’t been on a first date (or anything even close to that) since you met Paul almost 3 and a half years ago. It was only now that you felt the nerves swirling around in your stomach, realizing tomorrow you were actually going to see him again.

“Yeah, I’m really excited! I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I’m uh, actually kind of nervous though.” Your voice began to trail off as the women looked at you with a smirking suspicion. You quickly elaborated, trying not to make it too obvious the reason why you were worked up was because of the one person you were most looking forward to seeing.

“You know, because this is my first big party I’ve been to since moving here, and I don’t know a lot of people, and want to make a good impression and-”

“You’ll know us” Linda cut you off with a smile.

“You’ll know someone else there besides us old broads, too.” Estelle winked.

“Mija, there is nothing for you to worry about. Just be yourself, and I’m sure that everyone there will love you. Anyways, we’ve already put in a good word for you, so I wouldn’t be too nervous. ”

“Maria, leave the poor girl be! She’s a tough cookie, she can fend for herself!” Linda retorted. She could tell from the look on your face that this conversation was turning out to make you more anxious than expected. “It’ll be a fun time, mija. Drive home safe and we will see you tomorrow.”

The 4 of you waved and said goodbye as you parted ways to your cars scattered across the parking lot. As you sat down in the driver’s seat, you couldn’t tell if you were covered in sweat from the hot, Texas sun beating through the windows of your car, or because the idea of tomorrow had you a hot mess.

Your apartment was finally starting to feel like home. Pictures of your family hung on the walls, furniture finally delivered, contents of moving boxes unpacked and put away. You were a little too Type A for your own good, and while for the most part, your boxes had been sorted and organized you still didn’t feel settled until everything felt like it had a place. The last thing left to put away was a box marked “CHICAGO” that had sat in the corner of your living room, long after its counterparts had been sorted to their rightful home. You had told yourself that you needed to finally face unpacking this box before the school year came to an end, and with your countdown at 4 days, time was starting to run out.

After you had finished putting away the contents of your school bag, you changed out your work clothes, tossing them in your hamper and rummaging through your dresser to pull out a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized Chicago Cubs shirt, its logo faded and fraying from all of its wear. On your way back to the living room, you passed through the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. If given a choice, it was always Miller Lite. Growing up with 3 older brothers, it was the beer they would sneak you sips of when your parents weren’t looking. It was the beer you drank in college, knowing that a night drinking most liquors would send you to an early grave the next morning. It was what you drank almost every night for months after finding out you had wasted years of your life with Paul, who couldn’t be bothered to give an apology for what he had done to hurt you. If there was one thing you were, it was a little too stubborn for your own good, and you and Miller Lite had a history you weren’t willing to part ways with now.

That lead you back to public enemy #1- The “CHICAGO” box. You saw crossed legged on the floor as you rested your hand on your face, the other bringing the beer to your mouth for some liquid courage. The thing that frustrated you the most about this stupid box was that you knew exactly what was inside it. You could probably name where the contents were positioned inside the box. But every time you came close to ripping the packing tape off, you found yourself frozen in fear. If you opened that box, you would be admitting to the fact that when you were faced with the toughest moments in your life, you chose to run. Run half way across the country without looking back. And that- that made you feel a sense of cowardice that hung heavy on your conscience. You’d like to think that you were strong, determined, willing to stand up for yourself. But when it mattered most, you were none of those things. You were far from it.

So here you were again. You and that damn box. After this week, you didn’t have it in you to intensify the staring contest you had started with an inanimate object, and the prospect of tomorrow was enough to ruin your mood over a stupid container full of things. Exhausted, you sat yourself down on the couch, curled up in a blanket and turned on the TV to watch the next NHL Playoff game.

There were a lot of things you loved about Texas, but their lack of enthusiasm for hockey was a bit disappointing. When people asked you some of things you missed most about the midwest, a hockey fix was at the top of your list. Growing up with 3 older brothers who all played, you were convinced you came out of the womb with skates on. You were also convinced the need to keep up with your brothers is what fueled the fire for your overly competitive nature. The only downside to your love for hockey was when it came to dating. Being around your brother’s teammates, you constantly heard “how hot it was” or that it was “so sexy” when girls knew about hockey, or sports in general. In reality, whenever you brought up your interest on dates, it backfired. It turned into “Well you only know about it because of your brothers” or “It’s weird that you play hockey, that’s too manly.” One man once made the mistake of taking you on a first date to a skating rink thinking it would be cute to teach you how to skate, until you lapped him several times as he wobbled like a baby deer, and made him storm off in anger because a girl was better at skating than him. His loss.

Taking another sip of your beer, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy as you leaned your head further and further into your couch pillow. Despite trying your best to stay awake, exhaustion and comfort swept over your body, as you were lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of cheering and bullhorns coming from the TV.

It wasn’t until you were greeted by a sharp, stiff pain in your back that you realized you had fallen asleep, curled up on your couch, not even making it into bed last night. You grunted and rolled over to look at the clock hanging above your kitchen counter

10:13 AM

Shit. You were definitely not planning on sleeping in this late. The cookout wasn’t until 2:00, and all you had on your to-do list was to shower and get ready, but the last thing you wanted was for anything to make you late for something you had been looking forward to for the past 3 days.

After taking what you so lovingly deemed the “3 hour shower” (washing and conditioning your hair, shaving, and scrubbing down every inch of your body), you stood wrapped in your towel, staring at your open closet. You swiped through several pieces, throwing them down on the bed, bracing yourself for the personal fashion show that was about to ensue.

Almost an hour later, and half your closet now scattered about on the floor, you were convinced that if you had woken up at 7:00 AM you still would be crunched for time trying to pick out an outfit. What the hell does someone wear to a casual cookout full of a bunch of people they don’t know, and one really hot one that they want to get to know better?

After a few more combinations, you ruled out shirts and shorts, worrying that you were going to look too informal amongst a group of strangers. You dug back through your pile of dresses, trying a few back on hoping to find a solution. At 12:30, you landed on a baby blue sundress covered in small, white and pink flowers. Considering it was going to be 89 degrees today, you figured the spaghetti straps and knee length cut would be acceptable. It made you feel confident, and even a little sexy. After almost an hour of trying to toe the line between cute and casual, you threw on the dress and give yourself a quick run down in the mirror. Not half bad. You spent the last bit of time in the bathroom finishing your hair and a little bit of makeup, a routine you had down to a science, followed by swearing at yourself under your breath as you shoved the explosion of clothes on your floor back into your closet.

As you gathered your things, you took one final deep breath for reassurance as you headed out the door and down the steps to the front of your apartment building. You had been to Maria’s house before for her Cinco de Mayo party, recalling directions and that it wasn’t too far of a walk from your house. The whole way there, your hands were balled in fists squeezing your fingers, fueled exclusively by your increasing anxiety as you got closer and closer to Maria’s house. Knowing the social butterfly Maria is, you shouldn’t have been shocked by the massive number of cars lining the street leading up to her residence. As you walked up to the back gate of the house, you took several deep breaths before mustering the courage to make the trek down to the party. With each step across the hot cement of the sidewalk, your brain swirled with questions

“Is he already there? Is he actually excited about seeing me too, or do the ladies at work just feel bad for me and they’re trying to make me feel better? God, does he even remember that I’m coming or who I am? Fuck, was this dress even a good choice? What if I’m way too dressed up and he thinks I look like an idiot? Jesus, I hope they have alcohol at this thing.

Your heart raced as you approached the gate to her backyard, with a sign in bright, colorful letters that read “Fiesta this way!”. As you pushed open the gate, you were greeted with the thick scent of meats cooking on the grill, followed by upbeat Latin music and chatter amongst the guests. When you looked around, you were greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces. You began to walk further into the crowd when a tight embraced wrapped around you from behind.

“MIJA! I’m so glad you came!” Maria’s familiarity gave you a slight sense of relief. “Listen, I have to go help with the food, but there are lots of drinks in the cooler so help yourself, food should be up in about half an hour! Not everyone is here yet, but if anyone comes looking for you, I’ll be sure to send them your way.” Before you could make any attempt at a comeback, Maria winked at you and escorted herself back to the porch to continue setting up dinner.

Taking another sweep around the backyard, you made your way over to the drink coolers sitting on the side of the house, when you felt a tug at the bottom of your dress. Surprised, you turned around to see a small freckly face staring back up at you.

“Extoose me. My big bwother says dat your his teacher and dat sometimes you pway with dem at weecess and dat dey weeelllllyyy want to pway baseball but none of da other gwownups will pway and dey need someone to pitch. Will you pweeeeseeee pway wif us?”

Looking up, you noticed a small group of kids gathered in a cluster now smiling and waving at you.

“Hi, Alex. Hi, Sophia.” You waved back at two of the kids you knew from your class. “You know it’s okay to come ask me to play, you don’t have to send your little brother.”

Alex looked at you with a sincerely confused look on his face. “I didn’t know if we were allowed to talk to our teacher if they’re not at school.”

Sophia slapped him with the wiffle ball bat. “Of course you are, stupid. Teachers don’t live at school. They do real people stuff too.”

“If I’m so stupid, why didn’t you ask her, Ms. Know-it-all?”

As the two continued to argue, you took another look around at the party. With the familiar face count only at 3 (being Maria, and Estelle and Linda who you had waved to from afar), you realized that your choices were to either go converse with people you’ve never met, stand alone awkwardly, or go play baseball. The choice seemed easy enough.

“It’s okay you guys, I’ll play with you. Only for a little bit though, okay?”

The kids cheered as they placed a bag full of wiffle balls in your hands, glad to have an adult that would be able to throw a semi-hittable pitch. The kids took turns lining up to bat, as you threw towards them. Giving a little extra encouragement to the ones who needed it, you high-fived each kid as you let them have a “homerun” by running as fast as they could around the backyard. Noticing your collection of wiffle balls had dwindled down to zero, you sent the group of kids to scatter around the backyard to collect as many as they could. As you bent down and reached your hand out to pick up one of the balls close to you, a much larger hand set itself on top of yours.

“It’s been a while since I’ve played, but I don’t think the pitchers are supposed to go out in the field to collect all the balls.”

Shifting your gaze upwards from the grass, your eyes traveled up the length of the figure standing before you. Tight, dark washed jeans, followed by a white, short sleeved button up, that exposed the tanned skin of his chest. Next, a strong jaw and mustache, and deep, chocolate brown eyes that had lived vividly in your memory since first seeing them a few days ago.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would have figured that you’re a teacher by day, MLB pitcher by night.”

You shrugged your shoulders and mischievously rolled your eyes. “Damn, you caught me. My secret is ruined!”

Javi shifted the hand that was on top of yours under your palm, engulfing your hand in a gentle grasp, pulling you up to a standing position.

“Thanks.” you blushed as you brushed your hands down your sides to flatten your dress. You watched as Javi’s eyes darted looking you up and down, his tongue darting out to lick across his bottom lip.

“Can I uh, get you something to drink?” Javi asked. Noticing that his hand was still holding yours, he shifted his weight and tried to casually place his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, a beer would be great. Unfortunately, I don’t think they allow players to drink on the field, but it looks like they called someone in from the bullpen to take my place so I should be in the clear.” You both laughed, looking over to see that none of the kids had seemed to care that you had gone missing, and someone else had gladly taken your place as pitcher.

“I’ll be right back.” As you sat down at the edge of an empty picnic table on the patio, you couldn't help but gawk as Javier’s back turned to yours, revealing just how tight his jeans were and how broadly his shoulders stretched. His trip to get both of you drinks was prolonged by several people coming up to him, either shaking his hand or patting him on the back. You were curious why so many people had such an interest in Javi, and why he didn’t look thrilled about it.

After a few minutes, Javi made his way back to you, two beers in hand. “Well, you sure seem like a popular guy, Mr. Peña.” He slid your drink across the table to you, letting out a small scoff at your comment.

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve been home.” He looked around as if he was checking to see that no one else was coming up to bother him.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. Do you mind me asking where you were?” You took a sip of your drink, and traced your thumb along the condensation of the bottle.

Javi shifted in his seat and continued to look around. “I was uh, I was in Colombia working for the DEA.” It was his turn to take a much longer drink than the one that you just took.

“Oh shit, like the Drug Enforcement Administration DEA?”

“Last time I checked, that was the only DEA I knew of.” He looked down at his beer and let out an uncomfortable laugh. You had seen plenty about the happenings in Colombia on the news the past several years. Needless to say, none of it was “feel-good” content. Working for the DEA was one thing, but if he was down in Colombia? He would have really been in the thick of it. Putting two and two together, it now made sense why his trip to get you both drinks had taken so long.

“Well, um, it does sound like a really interesting job. If you ever want to talk about it, I would love to listen. But I totally get the whole feeling uncomfortable when everyone thinks you’re a hero and wants you to tell them everything when all you want is to not talk about it at all.” You reached out to place your hand on top of his and give him a reassuring smile. He looked back at you with crinkled brows and genuine confusion. You could almost feel his demeanor shift, like you were the first person who had ever considered trying to understand how he felt about the situation he was in. “My dad was a firefighter, I had 2 brothers who were in the military and another brother who’s an EMT. Obviously it’s not fair to compare anyone’s jobs, but they always hated how everyone else felt entitled to their heroism when a lot of the time, they felt far from it.”

He swallowed and clenched his jaw as his puppy dog brown brown eyes locked with yours. No one had ever even bothered to consider the fact that Javi had no interest in talking about his past. That the last thing he felt like was a hero, that he regretted the things he had done. Yet here you were, holding his hand, reassuring him he didn’t owe you anything. He opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s okay, really.” You reassured him once more. “The one thing I do want to know…” Your voice trailed as you took another sip of your beer, Javi’s face once again shifting to concern “is how much Maria has told you about me, and how much damage control I need to be doing.” Breaking the silence, you and Javi both laughed to yourselves. You watched as the tension seemed to dissipate from Javi’s body.

“I could say the same thing. If it makes you feel any better, the only thing I know about you is that you just moved here not that long ago from Chicago, and that Maria was very insistent that I would be an idiot if I tried to do anything to mess up my chances with a gorgeous girl like you.”

“Well the first part is true. I moved here at the end of December, so that’s what? 4 months now? And yeah, I’ve lived in or just outside of Chicago my whole life, so it’s definitely taken some adjusting. The 2nd half seems like a bit of an exaggeration.” You had never been good at taking compliments, but you could feel your cheeks flush.

“Damn, Chicago to Middle-of-Nowhere-Texas? That’s a big move. The 2nd part is definitely not an exaggeration in the slightest. You look…” His eyes shifted over you once more, biting down on his lower lip. “You look beautiful in that dress.”

“PEÑAAAAAAA! How have you been?! Mierda, it’s been too long, amigo!” A clearly drunk party goer was standing next to you and raised up a hand holding his beer, extending it towards Javi. As he continued to stumble toward Javi, he lost his balance, and the glass beer bottle he was holding slipped from his hands, shattering on the cement patio. Glass shards and beer foam went flying on contact, and your shin was in the way of the cross fire.

“Jesus, that hurts, shit!” Looking down at your leg, you watched as blood dripped from the point where a piece of glass lodged its way into your skin. Javi looked like he was about to murder whatever drunken idiot had stumbled his way over to him, but before he could, he had already rushed around to the side of the table you were sitting at. You tried to get up to get a better look at the damage, but Javi firmly grasped your hips and ran his hands down the sides of your thighs to sit you back in your seat. Well, being insanely turned by a man trying to help you get a piece of beer bottle out of your shin was a new first.

“Don’t move. I don’t want the glass to shift around anymore and make the cut worse.” His hands still hadn’t left your thighs.

“Javi, I’m fine. I can walk.” You began to stubbornly protest. You tried to hide the grimace on your face from the pain you felt as you began to stand up again. “Seriously, it’s fine, I’ll go find some first aid stuff and- OH, okay?!”

Before you could finish your sentence, Javi had scooped you up like it was nothing and was carrying you bridal style towards the house. Your head rested against his chest, coming face to face with unbuttoned flaps of his shirt. His scent overwhelmed you, somehow smelling even better than when you bumped into him just a few days ago. The thumb of the hand that was holding you beneath your legs traced back and forth across your knee.

“This seems a little unnecessary, don’t ya think?” Trying to hold it together, you looked up at Javi.

“You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” He looked down at you and shook his head with a slight grin on his face.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Javi made his way through the crowded patio to the sliding glass door that led into the house.

“DIOS MIO, WHAT HAPPENED?!” Maria shrieked, her face darting between you, Javi, and the blood running down your leg.

“I don’t know what to tell you Maria, the baseball game back there got pretty heated. Those kids are ruthless.” Your sarcasm clearly did not go over well, as Maria’s expression was now flooded with confusion and panic.

Javi rolled his eyes. “Tell Don he needs to get his drunk-ass together. He dropped a bottle and it shattered, some of the pieces flew into her leg. I’m guessing the first aid kit is still in the upstairs closet by the bathroom?”

“Yes, mijo, but-”

“No, Maria, she doesn’t need to go to the hospital, I’ll take care of her.” Boy, have you never been so excited about being injured.

“I don’t know, Maria, I think I’m dying!” You flopped one of your free hands up to your forehead, doing your best to look like a tragic Renaissance painting.

You could tell Javi was trying his best not to laugh, knowing that Maria was already halfway to dialing 911. “She’ll be fine, I promise.”

Javi used his hip to slide open the door, leading you through the kitchen and up the staircase. All jokes aside and adrenaline subsiding, you were now beginning to realize how much pain you were in as your legs jostled while Javi carried you up the stairs. You scrunched your face and bit down on your lip to try and ignore the pain, but it wasn’t doing much. Javi looked down at you, noticing your face.

“Hermosa, are you okay? We’re almost upstairs, I’m sorry about that pendejo.”

“Yup, I’ve never been better. I feel great, actually. LOVE having this piece of glass stuck in my leg!” You noticed your sarcasm meter was probably getting a little too high for the situation. “No it’s okay, thank you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let you bleed out on the patio.” As you crossed the threshold of the upstairs bathroom, Javi shifted you in his arms and sat you down on the top of the bathroom counter. He gave the top of your knees a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back, don’t move.” He made his way out of the bathroom, hearing him rummage around through the closet in the hallway.

“Do I really have a choice?” You heard him chuckle from outside the door. He came back holding a first aid box and a few towels and squatted down in front of your leg dangling off of the countertop.

“You help women take glass shards out of their legs at barbeques often?” You gestured down at the first aid kit, noting how fast he had found it.

“Surprisingly, you are the first.” Opening up the kit, he pulled out a few supplies. “I spent a lot of time playing here as a kid, and definitely went through my fair share of band-aids.” Carefully, he placed one of his hands around the back of your leg, pulling it closer towards him. You were surprised that with hands as big as his, he was incredibly gentle.

Trying to downplay your pain, you looked down at him and asked, “What’s the prognosis, Dr. Peña? Do I get to keep my leg, or are you destined to carry me everywhere for the rest of your life?”

“As much as I would love to, I think you’re gonna make it out okay.” He plucked a pair of tweezers out of the kit and looked up at you with remorse. “I’m gonna pull it out, but it’s probably gonna hurt. Is that okay?” He rested his free hand on top of your thigh. “You can squeeze my hand if you need to.”

Without hesitation, you released the hand that was gripping the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles were turning white. You slowly interlaced his fingers with his, his thumb stroking back and forth over the side of your hand.

“Okay, whenever you’re ready.” You said, beginning to squeeze his hand tighter.

“Okay. 3…2…”

“FUCK! Agh, so much for 1?! Holy shit, that hurt!” You were trying everything in your power to hold back the tears welling in your eyes, trying to be as tough as possible.

“I could say the same for my hand. Jesus, you’ve got a death grip, hermosa. I’m surprised my fingers aren’t broken.” You released his hand as he laughed and shook it out, now using both to rummage through the first aid kit again. Pulling out some gauze and tape, he carefully wrapped up the cut and tied up the bandage to hold it in place. He was so attentive making sure that you were properly bandaged up, that it wasn’t until he heard your small sniffle that he looked back up at you, noticing a small tear streaming down your face.

Generally, you prided yourself on being pretty damn tough. Growing up with brothers, you learned to play rough and deal with the consequences. More importantly, you hated crying in front of other people. Trying to quickly regain your composure, you tried to subtly wipe the tears off your cheeks, hoping Javi wouldn’t notice. Slowly, he rose up, placing one hand on the counter just outside your hips, the other coming up to your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the wetness under your eyes.

“I promise I’m not a baby, this shit just really hurt.” You said, trying to defend yourself. His hand cupped the side of your face.

“Cariño, you don’t need to apologize.” He leaned his body in closer to yours, your faces now only inches away. “You’ve been un soldado, if anything.”

“A what?” You were surprised your brain even had the capacity for questioning at this point.

“A trooper” Javi leaned in closer, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “So much so, you’re making it hard for me to try and take care of you, considering how damn stubborn you are.” His words whispered down the side of your neck, followed by another kiss. You could feel your heart racing, your breath becoming heavier with each word. Slowly, his body shifted down between the opening of your legs, his hands wrapping around your injured calf, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your bandage.

Your mouth hung half open, praying that your brain would concoct a half coherent sentence. Your hand traveled down to brush the top of Javi’s soft, curled hair, forcing his gaze to shift back up to you. “Last time I checked, I don’t think doctors are supposed to kiss their patients”

He stood back up, both hands now cupping your face as he leaned in and whispered, “well it’s a good thing I’m not really a doctor, am I?” Your mouths met with a magnetic attraction. His hand had now slipped behind your head, raking his fingers through your hair as he pulled you in closer. Your hands that had been grasping the edge of the counter as a form of self control now freed themselves, grasping around Javi’s biceps, reciprocating the closeness you craved. Your body lit up with an electricity that no kiss had ever made you feel before. His hands began traveling down your body, his intensity causing you to let out a small, breathy moan. Your legs slowly wrapped around the small of his back, pulling him tighter. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs as his hands grasped the meat of your thighs as they slowly slid their way under the hem of your dress.

“JAVI?! MIJA?! IS EVERYTHING OKAY?? DO I NEED TO CAL 911?? THERE BETTER NOT BE BLOOD ON MY BATHMAT, I JUST WASHED IT.”

Both out of breath, your mouths parted as Maria’s shrill voice carried up the stairs. You had blacked out for the last few minutes, forgetting you were sitting on top of your co-worker’s bathroom counter, door wide open. Javi rested his head in the crook of your shoulder as he whispered “God dammit, Maria…” under his breath.

“Impeccable timing on her part, to be fair.”

“IF YOU DON’T RESPOND I’M COMING UP THERE AND CALLING THE AMBULANCE!”

“All good, Maria!” You shouted down, Javi’s face still resting by your neck. “Dr. Peña told me it was a close one, but I’m gonna make it out alive.” You both giggled. “We’ll be down in a second!”

“Are you gonna clear me to walk, or am I getting carried again?” You said, giving him a playful nudge.

He gave you a quick kiss. “Just take it easy okay?” Grabbing your wait, he lifted you up and helped you off the counter. He gestured his arm towards the doorway. “After you.”

After you had hobbled your way down the stairs, you and Javi found empty patio chairs along the fence of the yard. After you had sat down semi-comfortably, Javi started making his way back toward the house. “Drink?” He said, looking back at you and continuing his stride.

“As long as you don’t drop it on me, absolutely.”

You were shocked by how quickly the next few hours went by as you sat and talked with Javi. The conversation flowed between you effortlessly as you covered the basic conversations, like your likes and dislikes, favorite things and families. You had even worked up the nerve to tell him how you ended up in Laredo after you broke things off with Paul. Now a few drinks in, your liquid courage had you diving in deeper.

“So, tell me this, Javi. You are arguably one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. You nursed me back to health from what was clearly a life or death experience, and you have impeccable taste, besides the fact that you haven’t seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, or Star Wars, or E.T., which I will forgive you for, as long as you do good on your promise to watch it with me. You have also proven to be an exceptional kisser. How the hell are you still single? Is there something I’m missing? Are you like, secretly married and have a family, a serial killer, wanted by the FBI, are the people at this party a part of some sort of secret cult that’s gonna kidnap me?! C’mon, there’s gotta be something?!”

Javi coughed on the beer that he had just sipped down his throat. “Jesus quierda, no! What would make you think that?”

“You seem too good to be true, there’s gotta be a flaw somewhere, c’mon!!”

“Well, I’m gonna take the high road and assume you’re not any of those things, I could say the same about you. This is most fun I’ve had since being back home.”

You raised your eyebrows and gave him a questionable gaze.

“I’m being serious, hermosa.” You could feel in his words that he meant it.

“Well I’m glad. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time too.”

You sat in a comfortable silence. Looking around, you noticed that not only had the sun gone down, but the once bustling backyard had now dwindled down to only a few party goers on the patio and a small crowd inside. The last thing you wanted to do was leave, but you also didn’t want to be walking alone at night, half hobbling from your injury.

“Hey, I’m really sorry, believe me, the last thing I want to do right now is leave, but I probably should start waking home before it gets too late. Not a huge fan of being a woman walking alone in the dark, ya know?”

Javi quickly set down his beer. “You were going to walk home?!”

“What, I’m not allowed to walk?! I don’t live that far, and it won’t take that long, I’ll be fine!” You crossed your arms in defiance.

“The shuffle across the yard I watched you take to go to the bathroom an hour ago says otherwise. Hermosa, let me drive you home, please?”

Too in pain to prove a point, you let out a huff of defeat. “Fine.”

“Thank you. I know you CAN do it, but I will carry your stubborn ass back before I let you walk. Here.”

He extended his arm out to help pull you out of your seat. He followed your lead taking slow steps across the yard, leading you out to the street where his truck was parked. Before you could argue, he opened up the passenger side door and lifted you up into the seat. “Just gotta get the keys from my pops and then I’ll be right back.

“What if I try to make a break for it?”

“It won’t take me long to catch you.”

“Touché.”

Javi closed the door behind him as he headed his way back into the house. Watching him in stride, you really needed to thank whoever made those jeans.

Javi found his dad amongst his friends at the kitchen table inside, talking and laughing amongst themselves. “Hey Pops, can I have the keys?”

Chucho took a sip of his beer and looked around at his friends. “Seems like things are going well then, huh?” The men chuckled to one another. “She’s very cute, Javi. Seems like she doesn’t put up with your Mireda either, I’m surprised she wants to spend more time with you!”

“Well she lives close and walked here and after Don’s clumsy ass still broke a bottle in her leg, I’m not gonna let her walk home. Believe me, I was worried I was gonna have to carry her.”

“I’m giving you a hard time, Javi. Here, take the keys. Don’t worry about me, I’m sure one of these fine gentleman will give this old man a ride home.”

“Thanks pop.” Javi took the keys that were outstretched in his father’s hand. As he began to walk back out to the car, he grabbed Javi’s arm.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile like you have tonight. It’s a good look on you, hijo.”

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year ago

Note

I went for safety by choosing from an old prompt list. So, still with Juice, "I'm following the map that leads to you", please?

Btw, as you told me I could pop a few requests in, I might send another one for someone else. But I haven't decided who yet so we'll see tomorrow...

Canvas!Series:

Canvas - You've brought so much colour into Juice's life.

Follow Me - Your ex Ronnie realises you have a new boyfriend.

Runaway - Juice comes home to find you absent.

Goodbye - Juice recieves a phone call from you in the middle of the night.

Love Letter (feat: Filip 'Chibs' Telford) - Juice begins to spiral.

It’s Evelyn that gives Juice the map, the one with your location highlighted with a red felt tip heart. He keeps it in the passenger seat of the truck as he makes the drive up to Spring Creek in Nevada. It’s been almost a year since he last laid eyes on you, since you’d called him from a pay phone in a shitty motel in Carson City to say goodbye. He’d been up there a couple of times to find you but the trail had always gone cold, now he knows why.

You were an artist with barely two cents to rub together, you didn’t have the resources to vanish the way you did. He’d assumed you’d had help, he’d just never realised how close it was to home.

“Did Chibs know?” he’d asked Evelyn as he’d sat at the kitchen table in the home the two of them shared.

“Not until this morning.” She had told him as she set the mug of hot chocolate down in front of him. “Keeping the secret gave him plausible deniability.”

Which means it gave the club plausible deniability. If anyone discovered her complicity in a network that helped to spirit women and children away from abusive situations, being disbarred would be the least of her worries.

“You saw what it did to me, you knew…” He trails off bitterly, his eyes stinging.

He’d almost killed himself last year, shot himself up with so much dope, he’d woken up choking in a pool of his own vomit. He’d been lucky that time. It should have been a wake up call but it wasn’t.

“That’s why she sent the letter.” Evelyn explained to him. “She couldn’t stand the thought of you blaming yourself.”

It had taken him weeks to read it. By that point he’d gone so far down the rabbit hole he didn’t know which way was up. It was Chibs that saved him, that forced him to read the letter, to understand it wasn’t his fault that you’d left.

“Why now?” Juice asks her, gesturing to the map and Evelyn picks up the newspaper from the counter and tosses it onto the table in front of him.

3 Dead During DEA Drug Raid, the headline reads.

“Her ex, he’s one of them.” Evelyn tells him, tapping her finger on the article. “I’ve told her it’s safe to come home but…”

“…but she doesn’t know if she has anything to come back to.” Juice finishes as he leans back in his chair.

“A year is a long time Juan.” Evelyn reminds him. “As far as she knows you’ve moved on, got yourself another girl.”

“No.” He says resolutely as his gaze strays to the garden outside of the window. “I fucked around in the beginning but there’s never been anyone that comes close to Simone.”

Eight hours later Juice finds himself standing on the doorstep of a cabin in Spring Creek. It’s the first time in almost a year he’s felt hope.

Love Juice? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

@stydiaswish @goosterroose @darqchilddaydreamz @librarian1002 @redpool @trublu2u @fleureeee @hatersaremymotivators @ravennaortiz @just-a-throw-away @fangirling-and-lovin-it @keyweegirlie @kmc1989

#juice x reader #juice #juice x you #juan juice ortiz #juan juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz #sons of anarchy #juice ortiz x reader #soa

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freshlyrage · 1 year ago

Text

Running Like Water

Chapter 23

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I’m bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.1k

a/n: This is a double update, read the previous chapter here!

You found a routine by yourself that week. You spent sun up rearranging the wedding seating in the backyard. That was the only time you and your mother spoke – when it came to setting up for the big day. 3 days until the entirety of Laredo would gather at the backyard your mom left neglected for years. You better believe she hired the best gardeners to trim that monstrosity you all called a backyard. But it was beautiful, you found yourself daydreaming at the altar while you sorted through seating arrangements.

When you were alone in bed you called Javier. He had been working a lot since he took off with you last weekend. Driving back and forth from the DEA’s office. He’d be exhausted by the time he got home, he’d still groan and sigh, removing his shoes with his cheek pressed to the receiver. He was embarrassed by it but there was nothing cuter in this world than his little old man noises. You, on the other hand, felt aimless. The communication between you and your mother had fallen straight to none. Not even her husband sparked a conversation like he usually did in his corny step-dad way.

On Wednesday your brother comes to visit the backyard. It was the first day you decided to not tamper with the backyard equipment. The sun was exceptionally high and splitting that day. Instead, You lie on a blanket, basking in any tan you can before you sport that light yellow bridesmaid dress when the sun was blocked by your idiot brother. A bowl of grapes sat by your head.

You took in a deep breath before speaking. The few days you spent alone, alone reflecting —you decided not to bicker with him for the next three weeks, you knew the wedding had nerves high—you hadn’t brought up your father. Frankly, you’d like to never have that talk again with Frankie. Well actually, you never wanted to talk of that man… ever again.

“Do you mind?” You squint your eyes up at the curly haired boy. God your mother prayed to the lord every night he’d cut that shag off, dios por favor, haz que ese chico se corte el pelo antes de la boda. You sit up and pout as he stands with a shit eating grin. You wanted to kick his ankles out.

He bends down to grab a grape. “I’m not mad at you for all the Javier shit in high school-“

“Ugh!” You groan loudly, ridiculously tired of this topic. You just wished he’d forget it, move on, let it flow or whatever the fuck. God knows you had to, you dwelled so hard on the past you drove yourself away from Javi.

“No-I’m not mad about anything-I’m tired of being a bad brother, i’m tired of letting us drift apart because of mom. So will you get up and ride your bike with me?” He spits, extending his palm out to you. Your heart swells wide in your chest and your eyes double in size. You feel embarrassed to be choked up by your brother being nice for once. Overcome by the urge of hugging your brother and telling him he’s the best brother like you did when you were little (only when he paid for ice cream). Your grin grows wide and you take his palm.

You giggle and hop to your feet. “Let me change.” You look down at your clothing. A bikini with some small shorts covering you, You wouldn’t dare biking around town with your breasts out, no shot. That is something you most certainly cannot do when Melissa Dios Diaz is your mother.

Your brother laughs, running his sunglasses up his hair. You follow him around the side of the house. “No need, we’re all heading to the lake.”

You speed up your steps to keep up like you did as a little girl, your brows furrowing.

“Who’s we all—“

There’s Genie, in a big t-shirt and shorts. Sat up on the same white bike, her hair down in big blowout waves like you remembered. Grinning with the glow of a pregnant woman. How many things have changed, how much has stayed the same. With the sun basking behind her you nearly miss Javier sitting next to her, right on his bike. Cigarette dangling from his lips with a shirt unbuttoned showing the tan mass that was his chest. His lips curled at the sight of you.

Your heart catches in your throat.

You tried so hard not to burst into tears the second the four of you dropped your bikes by the dock. You hadn’t swam at your lake in nearly a decade and here it was, glistening the way it did. There were two small lakes in town, one simply titled our lake, which was… well. Then there was 4 Corners Lake, the lake people like Lorraine went to throw back beers– that one dried up in 1984. Your lake, the lake you splashed around on every sticky summer day of 1978. The place where Javier would stare at your sun freckles.

Genie did not waste a moment before pulling her shirt over her head and jumping in with her fiance's yell of, “Be careful!” You cringe at the sight of a pregnant Genevieve plunging into water the way she did but she comes right back up without a smile.

She whoops, “She’s fine! The water is so refreshing baby, come in!” Frankie laughs and pulls off his shirt as well. Your brows screw together. He hops right in after.

“She?” There was no way, she was far too early in her pregnancy, not even three months. You look at Javier who was unbuttoning, removing his shirt from his shoulders, you do a double take at the expanse of his chest. You never see him like this in daylight, good god, Javier Peña was hot.

My boyfriend is hot.

Your brother emerges from the water, stumbling on his words and shivering. Wiping his eyes and flipping his long locks, water splashing his fiancée in the face. She shrieks and hops on his back. He yelps just as loud and it was like a mirror facing back into your childhood. You never want to be upset with your brother ever again. “Jesus-“ He swears, Genie crawling her neck to kiss his cheek while she clings to him, “She has some weird mommy intuition that she’s carrying a girl” He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something else but Genie tickles him and your brother has now long forgotten your conversation. He play fights in the water instead.

You smile to yourself, fumbling with your shorts. Sliding them off with a quick glance at Javier. Truthfully, you haven’t hung out all together with your new… circumstance. You can’t help but be ridiculously awkward. You didn’t even spare a glance at him while the four of you biked. He was behind you and when you were kids you would look over at him so often you would lose your footing and steer off.

Javier though, doesn’t seem to be too concerned. Who stands next to you and shoots a glance at your bare legs before leaning into your ear.

“Last one in the water owes the other a sexual favor.” In a flash of an eye he slaps your behind and he’s running down the dock.

“No!” You shout in true desperation, it wasn’t because of the idea of possibly getting him off—more so the idea of him beating you in a race. You run right after him. “What are you?! Fourteen!”

Your bare feet slap against the wood and you’re nearly caught up to him—years of lacrosse was nearly on your side, until he jumps in with a yell of “You wish I asked you that at fourteen!”

You shriek and jump in right after him. The cold water shocking your system, you’d attack Genie if she wasn’t pregnant for saying that this shit felt nice. You stay under for a second longer afraid of realizing just how cold it is once you reach the surface. You feel Javier’s calloused hands grope you under the water and you’re delighted to feel him.

You break surface and he parts from you. You wipe your eyes and scowl at him which causes him to grin like an idiot. Shaking your head you splash him, “Jodón”

Your eyes finally adjust and you giggle to yourself as Genie creeps up behind Javi, jumping on his back as well. This is how you remembered her, the sea-monkey that was your best girl friend. Always climbing up someone’s back at the lake. Javi laughs and supports her weightless body. “You two are so cute.” She smiles, resting her chin on

Javier’s shoulder. Frankie groans like always.

This had always been the dynamic, Genie egging on the idea of you and Javier, and Frankie making zombie like noises of disapproval.

“Enough…” Frankie called before swimming slowly to catch up with the small circle you created by the dock. Genie hops off Javier’s back and dips back under water to re-wet her hair.

She shakes off the water on her face. “Grow up, it’s been years we should talk about this. Where better than in the place it all started?”

The sun beams hard so your left eye shuts in defiance, it also shuts because you don’t want this moment ruined by being forced to lie even more to your brother. Javi watches you with concern, his own brows screwed together. He clears his throat, “Talk about what?” His graveling voice cuts.

“About how the two of you were making us all suffer for the past 6 years of will they won’t they.”

You shake your head with a smile, to your shock Frankie chips in with a lighthearted voice, “Well yeah, me and Genie had a bet on who would call the other first.”

It’s silent for a moment, all that is heard is the sound of running water, birds and bugs. Javier nods, his lips in a tight line. “I don’t want to talk about that. If you want to talk about me and Andrea, talk about before I left. I’ve done enough explaining about why I was gone.” There it was, Javier’s typical grumpiness coming through—you couldn’t help but agree. High school, middle school, all the time that he was here, all the time Genie and Frankie were around, they could know about that. Houston, Miami, that was just for the two of you. It was your business, your time, your miscommunication. You weren’t eager to share you and Javier’s six year long cowardice.

“To who?” Frankie asks flatly, it isn’t an attitude yet so you let him slide. If he shows one ounce of attitude about this, you’re ready to drown him.

“To Andrea. Because she was the only person I wronged when I left.” He looks over at you, with a pained crease between his brow. You harbor no more resentment, you just nod, and he knows. Frankie looks between the two of you and his face softens. It’s rare and you nearly smile at it.

“That’s fair.” Is all he says, creating another silence. You feel light as a feather and it isn’t just the water, it’s the fact that for the first time in your life, your brother doesn’t put up a fight.

You smile at Frankie and Genie, “Well! I’ve always wanted you two to just date.” Genevieve beams before flicking some water at Javi.

He shakes his head hiding a smile, “Did you really? You’re still close with Lorraine I mean that’s kind of—“

“Oh please! Lorraine is my friend, you guys are my family. I never thought you and her were compatible—no offense!” The four of you laughed together because it was true, Frankie knew it the most. He’d make a face every time Genie offered to bring her along. At the time you thought he was being a prick, and well, he was, because that’s just Frankie, but she really was only nice when she was drunk. “And… think of it this way, you already trust and know Javier and his family. Imagine having to learn a new fuckface with a new family, and god forbid he could even be a northerner. And the sicko wants to date your sister! I’m not—like pressuring you two to date or anything but, you know, Javier and Andrea are practically best case scenario.”

Frankie narrows his eyes at his wife to be, “I guess you’re right.”

You gasp audibly, covering your mouth. “Who are you!?” You shriek, splashing him.

Javier says simultaneously, “I swear I just saw the clouds part and heaven shine down on me.”

“Oh fuck you guys!” Frankie laughs and splashes the two of you. And so the water fight begins, for miles into the surrounding forest all you hear is the laughs of four childhood.

You hoped that if you ever get the chance to be pregnant, that you would look as beautiful as Genevieve did.

She lies on a blanket right in the center of the dock, basking in the sun in a bikini. Starting right above her belly button is the tiniest bump of life. And boy does your brother annoy you, but there was truly nothing sweeter than the sight of him just staring at her while she rests. His hands rubbing her tummy, she squints at him and smiles, they laugh together.

For a few hours, you and Javier are like fish, swimming around each other, throwing each other, splashing and disturbing the peace with your loud cackles. You decide to take the last 3 hours of sun beams to sit at the dock, back facing the couple. They talk and you can’t hear, so you and Javier converse freely. Hoping they are also in their own little world.

“I hated August, I still do.” You say looking over your shoulder at him. He’s looking at you with those big brown eyes and god you wished you were alone right now. His mustache is still dripping and heavy from the water. He doesn’t respond, instead shifts closer to let you ramble. “I hated going back to school and seeing you like four times during the year.”

He nods. It’s weird to think that before 1980 they hadn't really been at the same school, the summer would end and it was like you ceased to exist for Javier. It wasn’t anything you really thought of until now, for so long your mind could only circle the details of your freshman year in high school. Being at the lake reminds you of middle school and your heart race picking up when you would run into Javier at a game or at church. He lived a different life not made for you every September through May. You can’t find yourself being upset about it but god were you curious what those months were like for him. He could figure what they were for you, they were lonely, isolating times. Sitting at lunch with your English teacher, walking home, reading, and repeating. You cant but ask now,

“How was your freshman year?”

He’s staring at the patch of freckles at the slope of your shoulder, dozing in them like a constellation, figuring out how to answer that question. He clears his throat and sits up straight. “Do you want me to be honest?” You give him a blank face and he catches the wave. “Alright, I got really popular out of nowhere. I made all these new friends, I was kind of shitty.”

“Shitty how?” You tilt your head, you sensed something shifted in Javier’s junior year, your classmates still whispered of him and you know people did double takes when you walked with him the halls.

This topic was like pulling teeth it seemed. “You know how Laredo high school can be really cliquey… like when you accidentally sat at the theater table and the entire cast of Chicago gave you dirty looks all year.”

You laugh at the memory, you didn’t really make enemies in high school of course unless it was with the thespians. “Yes…”

Javier cringed, “I made a joke with my friend that I could hook up with every girl from each clique.” He says it in a hushed tone and looked over his shoulder immediately, hoping your brother doesn't hear, he was just as distracted as he was fifteen minutes ago. Your eyes widen and you stare out into the lake. A weird sting of jealousy coursing through your blood. You weren’t jealous now, no, you felt sad for the fourteen year old you that stayed up daydreaming about Javier all of seventh and eight grade while he was doing… that. You face relaxes for a moment when you’re reminded to relax, to let go.

You smile a bit and look back at him, you see it in his brow he began to panic internally at your silence. “So…”

He laughs, shaking his head, “I feel like this is a trap.”

“No! It's not, I was practically obsessed with you back then– I need to know everything for…” You make a motion of a small person standing in front of you. “That Andrea.”

He looks at you skeptically, his eyes roving around your grinning face trying to detect possible dishonesty.

“I only had actual sex with Harietta on the cheer team and Clara from science research. But you know I hooked up… with a theater girl, a soccer girl, two girls from band, a lacrosse girl –”

“Oh god please don’t tell me you hooked up with Priscilla Villa!” You shriek and he cackles with a guilty face. “No! My god, she was my trainer… okay so that's what you were doing… okay.” You turn away from him and back at the reflecting of the sun that is just an hour away from making the sky go pink, you've spent so many days watching the sunset here as a teen back then you never thought you’d be emotional over something like your lake. Javier is no longer laughing, he sat up straight again with a clenched jaw and a frown.

His own freckled chest expanding and falling slowly, “Do you see me differently?” Its quiet, it’s insecure, like maybe you shouldn’t have asked about this. Like he was embarrassed by your sick prodding, your own chest fills with panic.

You look behind you once more and your brother is cackling at a joke Genie made down the dock. You were safe to touch him.

You hook your finger in the bracelet around his wrist, loosening the piece of string to slip your wrist in between, cuffing–tying the two of you to each other. You fingers slipping into his hand that still dwarfs you after all these years. “No… never. You were so young.”

He nods, “Yeah…” His voice gravels and he clears himself again. “By the time I was seventeen I had been tired out. Probably why I was so committed to the first real relationship I got into.” You never made the link but you knew Javier had been sexually active far too young, you suppose you still had some shit to work out because you never considered the effect that would have on a young boy. “I think about all of our parents, how they married so young. When I was younger I couldn’t imagine giving up my freedom so young, I thought about my dad getting married in his early twenties and used to think, what an idiot. But I don’t know now, I feel like I've done it all. I’m not sure I want to do any more of that.”

Your skin goes hot at his words, but you can’t speak. You can’t, you’re afraid you’ll ask him to just marry you–afraid of being irrational but when he talks like that you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure.

“And I don’t want to start over either, I think doing this with someone else will break my spirit. Starting over, watching you start over, watching you settle down.” He whispers the last part and you squeeze his hand tighter, leaning into his shoulder. “I guess I’m saying that… come November, I don’t think I can bear just going our separate ways.” His voice is the way it always was, almost grumpy sounding, deep but instead with a hint of shakiness. How it sounds whenever he speaks of his mother, or of Houston.

“I’ll write to you all the time.” Is all you can say.

“I’ll pay for your international calls.”

“I’ll send you pictures in the mail.” You beam, lips twisting with mischief. “All sorts of pictures.” His brows shoot high and he looks over his shoulder again.

“I’ll wait for you, I don’t care how long.” He says while looking at Frankie and Genevieve who’s backs were now facing the two of you, the light captured him so perfectly like this. His eyes a warmer honey color and his nose casting the shadow that made him look carved by a higher power. You wanted to frame the moment. He looked back at you, less than an inch away from your face. His eyes fan, eyes looking straight down to your shoulder and he kisses the patch of freckles. Small kisses on salty skin.

You frown, running your fingernails through his hair, your left hand still tied to his. “I’ll always wait.”

You want to say, I’m always waiting.

You untangle a moment after and reminisce on different times, on happier times. Uninterrupted for a bit until you hear the sound of standing and shuffling. You and Javier both turn to see Genie and Frankie standing hand in hand.

“Hey! We’re gonna uh—“ Frankie turns red mid sentence, they’re standing at the doc Genevieve has a blush on her face as well, and she shakes her head.

“We’re going to take a walk. We’ll be back in an hour.” She beams and grabs ahold of your brother's hand and they make their way being painfully obvious.

You and Javier slowly look at each other with a smirk.

“They’re about to bone.”

“Ew.” You groan, looking at the backs of their heads as they slowly disappear.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, Javier’s eyes hot on your chest. You suck in a breath, your breasts moving against your tiny bikini top. Javier looks absolutely starved and truthfully, so are you. He clears his throat.

“Should we-”

“Yes.” He blurts, standing and pulling you with him. You laugh and check your surroundings and hold his hand.

“They went that way, we can go over here.”

The sky is almost pink, hopefully you could see the sunset from where you drag him. You walk in front of him with your arm folded behind you, you guide him this time and to be fair you did lose the race to the water earlier. There’s nothing more fitting than a hookup amongst the trees of your lake. Your sandals crunch through leaves as you inch farther into the greenery, no carved out path but you make sure not to go too far. In silence the two of you find a tree out of sight and close enough to home base.

You drop his hand and turn to face him, “So-” He’s already got you pinned against the tree, attacking at your mouth. Kissing so roughly you stumble and hold his shoulders for support. He breaks away and you’re left panting. “Javi-”

But he’s licking a stripe from your shoulder and up your neck, sucking just below your ear. “Taste like salt and coconut, so sweet.” He grunts and drops to his knees. You gape at the sight of Javier on his knees, in the dirt, his nose skimming your bikini bottom that had that unwashable scent of sunscreen and chlorine from a pool trip last summer. You lean forward and nails digging into his tanned shoulder blades. His hands engulf the back of your thighs while his soft face rubs along your clothed mound, inhaling and kissing you. Worshiping you. “Always wanted to see you in a tiny bikini, want to slide it to the side and make you come on my tongue.” He looks up at you, and drags his pointer finger at your folds as they show through your daisy printed bikini bottoms.

You shut your eyes tightly and take in a deep breath.

“I was the last to the water. Stand up.” You say as demanding as possible but truly you were about to crumble. He furrows his brow in protest but you keep your distance, and you switch positions. Dropping down to your knees, your back faces the tree and he cages you in. Your heart races every time it’s up to you and purely your skill to get him off. Even though you have done far less to get him to come in his pants, putting your mouth on him still makes you nervous.

You suppose that’s why it also still makes you so wet. Your knees crunch against leaves, you waste no time palming him like you usually do, he’s hard—he’s been hard all day. Fingernails hook in the waistband of his swim trunks and his throbbing cock sprang out, hitting his bare chest before settling. It’s so red it’s nearly purple. You pout, “Oh Javi-I’m sorry I made you wait so long. Will you let me take care of this?” You widen your eyes like he needs any convincing, brown, wide and glossy.

His throat bobs and he nods, running one hand down the back of your head. “Yeah querida, please-oh fuck.” You give him no time to think straight before you’re dragging the tip of his cock against your sticky lips. Just teasing the entrance you’ll let him fuck for a bit. Your brows screw together and you reach your unused hand down to your breasts. Pinching and squeezing, Javier isn’t sure what to focus on. Javier crowds your hand with his, guiding himself on your lips. “Please Andrea, open up–you're killing me.”

You sit perfectly on your heels, attempting to release any tension he caused when he was on his knees just a minute ago. You’re about to open your mouth when Javier roughly grabs your chin and your mouth pops open by force. You feel your bikini bottoms soaking more at the new harshness in his hold, and your mouth is finally crowded by his length. “Mnmm-” He thrusts the blunt head at the back of your throat. He continues rolling his hips while you attempt to catch up with your tongue, your eyes flash up at him in utmost desire. Being used, letting him use you makes you feel the most in control you’ve ever experienced. You move your hand from your breasts to cup his balls. “Don’t you dare-fuck–keep touching yourself.” He gravels out.

You nod and make a sobbing noise around him. Letting him go you slip your hands back down your body. He gravels out.

You nod and make a sobbing noise around him. Letting him go you slip your hands back down your body. Rubbing yourself through your nylon clad cunt, digging your nails into his thigh while you touch yourself through your bikini. His eyes were screwed shut while he rolls his hips against your face until your lips are close to the base of him, you gag. His hand grabs the back of your hair and separates you from his cock with a gasp and a string of spit connecting the two of you. Your cheeks are stained with tears and you look up at his face. His face concerned while he runs his hand from his hair down to your cheek, wiping your lip free of spit. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles.

He’s being so gentle and your brows furrow. You didn’t want gentle, with a frown you grab his hand and guide it to the back of your head once more, taking him back into your mouth. “Fuck— baby-baby I’m gonna come.” His hips stutter and you relax your throat to take him farther once more. He comes with a moan of your name and a tight grip at your hair that stings. He fills your mouth and all you could do is breathe through your nose while he folds over with both hands gripping the tree behind you.

He softens in your mouth and you decide to part. Swallowing and licking your lips you wipe your eyes free of tears. During your self recovery Javier exhales and tucks himself away. Head blurry, Javier reaches down to stand you up right from under your arms. He wipes dirt from your knees and kisses your hip bone while he’s down there. “Thank you. You’re always so good.” Your cheeks warm.

“I know.”

He shakes his head at your comment and kisses you roughly, pinning you against the tree. You stand on your tip-toes and hold his shoulders to push back into the kiss. His large calloused hands cover your entire waistline, sliding slowly to your lower back—goosebumps rising like it’s the first time. He takes an entire handful of your ass, kneading and rolling. You didn’t have the biggest behind and you surely didn’t have the biggest breasts but he still touched you like you were carved by Michelangelo.

There’s no breeze in this heat, but branches rustle as if footsteps approach. “Mmm—I love you.” He whispers against your lips. A sun sets in your heart, in complete bliss you smile against him.

“I love you too.”

“I fucking knew it!”

You and Javier jump from each other with a gasp. Genie stands five feet away with a thrilled look.

“We-“ You begin, your heart beats out of your chest. “How long were you there for!”

She cackles, “I only saw minor groping and I love you— you guys I’m so excited right now—“

“It’s um-“ Javier begins and his voice dies before rubbing his head.

“No-no don’t explain it to me. I won’t tell Frankie or anything but if you two are serious which you just said I love you so… well Frankie will get over it just you should tell him. Tell him after the honeymoon he’d be too busy being my husband to care.” She rambles as she usually does when she’s thrilled.

“We’re dating.” Javier states and you could burst into flames.

You smile and nod, “We were planning on waiting until after the wedding to tell anyone.”

He looks to you with a smile and Genie squeals running between the two of you and hooking arms.

“Okay, tell me everything. I’ve been waiting years for this.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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famousautomatondreamsrockstar · 7 months ago

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I'm gonna distribute drugs 2 hours before the concert starts so me and all my guests can be high when the music plays at Madison Square Garden.

Camila Cabello is gonna play a full set before Lorde is gonna play half a set before Taylor Swift is gonna play a full Taylor Swift set and then, we're gonna play a full Automaton Dreams set and then, a full Drugs, Sex, And Money set at Madison Square Garden — Taylor Swift is opening for my solo band, is opening for my all star band.

Taylor, I need you to invite your blonde Swiftie fans to be in the crowd with us.

Lorde can open for Taylor Swift.

Invite all your best friends and celebrities — the kind of people you trust not to betray us.

Doors will probably open at noon and we'll run the festival until 3 am.

We'll film the entire festival and release it as a 12 hour movie.

I'll dose everyone who comes to the crowd with drugs — anyone who wants some.

Where are we throwing the afterparty so we can go home and finishing tripping?

#NYPD #NYCMayorEricAdams

#Police #DEA #DEAHQ #UNODC #GhadaFathiWaly

I'm gonna bring MDMA, LSD, LSA, Ayahuasca, Psilocybin, Mescaline, THC, Oxycodones, Adderall, Cocaine, Salvia, DMT, Ibogaine, 2CI, Methamphetamine, 2CB, Bufotenine, Vyvanse, and PCP.

Everyone call all of your drug dealers and tell them to start manufacturing the drugs for me so I can buy them for the movie because I don't grow half that shit.

Everyone who is dealing drugs to me has clemency on all charges, despite all circumstances.

I'm gonna be on LSD and methamphetamine and Adderall and Vyvanse so I can stay up for the whole length of the concert. I'm gonna take microdoses of the rest of the drugs because I need to perform.

I just realized we could have a week long festival at Madison Square Garden so we can have more performers and more time to hang out and do drugs.

Who wants to perform? I'll pay you to perform — I'll pay y'all very well — how much would you charge me to perform?

I want #BillieEilish #KatyPerry #AutomatonDreams #TaylorSwift #BakerGrace #HeatherLaRose #DrugsSexAndMoney #Lorde #CamillaCabello #TheWeeknd #BonJovi #CharliXCX #EmpireOfTheSun #CultRecords #KingsOfLeon #ArcticMonkeys #TameImpala #DevendraBanhart #MGMT #LilWayne #EdSheeran #JustinBieber #TheKidLaroi #LanaDelRey #TheStrokes #TheVoidz #AlbertHammondJr #SummerMoonBand #MileyCyrus #HarryStyles #Grimes #AlexandraSavior #BeachHouse #JackHarlow to perform.

I want y'all to perform your singles, not your new songs — only your coolest hits.

I'm gonna buy out the venue so we can have an invite only crowd.

Don't forget to wear ear plugs.

We're gonna be serving raw vegan cold pressed juice and raw vegan food at the festival.

Call Madison Square Garden and tell them I'm offering fifteen billion dollars to buy out the venue for a week and I want legal nudity and sex allowed inside the venue so we can have sex inside the venue.

I'll be distributing drugs during the filming of my movie — it's not just a movie, I'm actually going to be distributing drugs in real life — it's not a fiction.

I'm asking for permission to please be allowed to manufacture and distribute drugs for my movie and I want The DEA and The UNODC and The CND to send uniformed and undercover police agents with me so y'all can approve of it.

We can't put the poison in the drugs, it has to be pure because we're trying to be healthy.

I'll pay you anything you ask for and you can date my daughters and my wives.

#Police #NYPD #Government #DEA #DEAHQ #UNODC #CommissionOnNarcoticDrugs #GhadaFathiWaly

Don't invite a lot of dudes to The Madison Square Garden Festival, preferably chicks.

#Dallas #DallasTX #DallasTexas #DTX #FBI #UnitedNationsHumanRights #police #JoeBiden #DallasPoliceDepartment #TheWhiteHouse #DOJ #DepartmentOfJustice #CIA #CentralIntelligenceAgency #TheSupremeCourt #SCOTUS #HumanRightsWatch #UNPGA #POTUS #HouseGOP #HouseRepublicans #congress #senate #SenateDemocrats #SenateGOP #EuropeanUnion #EUCouncil #EuropeanParliament #parliament #EuropeanUnionComission #EUComission #TheFederalReserve #InternationalCriminalCourt #UNPeacekeeping #UnitedNationsPeacekeeping #UnitedNations #UN #USArmy #NATO #president #primeminister #10DowningSt #governor #mayor #citycouncil #intelligence #military #Europe #America #NewYork #NewYorkCity #American #elitesociety #RoyalFamily #news #FoxNews #US #UnitedStates #ODNI #ODNIgov #DirectorOfNationalIntelligence #sheriff #sheriffs #LAPD #LosAngeles #California #LosAngelesPoliceDepartment #NYPD #WorldBank #UNPOL #InternationalMonetaryFund #IMF #capitalism #NSA #WEF #WorldEconomicForum #LieutenantGovernorDanPatrick #DanPatrick #GovernorGregAbbott #GregAbottt #CsabaKorosi #GeorgeWBush #TonyBlair #NationaSecurityAgency #NSAgov #NSAcyber #UNWomen #MichelleBachelet #RobertaMetsola #LizTruss #HillaryClinton #UrsulaVonderleyen #MarjorieTaylorGreene #CsabaKorosi #VladimirPutin #Kremlin #DonaldTrump #DonaldTusk #BorisJohnson #JillBiden #women #girls #Wikileaks #Amnesty @amnestyusa @amnestyinternationalub-blog #AmnestyInternational #Pontifex #SkullAndBonesSociety #Illuminati #Rosicrucians #Freemasons #DEA #DEAHQ #CND #UNODC #GhadaFathiWaly #BIS #BankForInternationalSettlements

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hazbinextgeneration · 1 year ago

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Demon Bride Ch31 Interluding P4

(DISCLAIMERS AND IMPORTANT INFO!!!: EVERYONE in this story is in their early 20s-30s! This story will contain mentions of past abuse and death! I'll be keeping it as SFW. Some backstories have been slightly altered for this particular story, and some characters cannonically dead or harmed is alive and well. I own nothing.

Credit to @flanelltees for the designs I based the demons off to look more demon-like with tails and pointed ears.

This story will be sfw, but there will be some blood, implied death, fighting, some gore mentioned, and a few other things that will be made aware by warnings. Pay attention to warnings at the top of any chapters just under the summery please.)

Once in the mountain villages it was a custom that once a year on the night of the new year's first moon, an unlucky young lady would be selected and left for the demons to become one of the unlucky few who married such a husband. In exchange for this offering the demons would protect the villages and leave the humans in peace. Until one day a powerful warrior drove the demons away freeing the humans of them. Now 2,000 years later, it's become a tradition that once a year, a new young lady would be picked and wait for her future husband to retrieve her from a shrine in the mountains. And now the lucky tradition would fall upon Y/n L/n. It would be her own turn to take on the tradition and not have to worry about demons. After all that part of the old tradition was just fake, made up by paranoid ancestors. Everyone knew demons didn't exist....Right?

(WARNINGS!!!:Mentioning of killing.)

First Part Here:

Demon Bride Ch 1 Thus It Begins

(WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS!!! EVERYONE in this story is in their early 20s-30s! This story will contain mentions of past abuse and death! I'l

TUMBLR

Last Part Here:

Next Part Here:

(These are some events and important bits that happened between the chapters that mostly focused on reader and other demons.)

The air smelt of smoke. The land had been burnt of fire. Many of his servants were hurt and Eri was running around like a panicked chicken looking everyone over. There hadn't been any deaths thank goodness. But-

"THIS IS A DISASTER!!"

Most everyone winced or looked at one of the Upper Moons ranting looking a mixture of panicked, sad, raged, and if they were to be honest almost about to cry as his hands dug deep into his long black locks.

"MY HOME IS DESTROYED!! THE GARDEN IS COMPLETELY BURNT!! WE WON'T BE ABLE TO GROW ANY FOOD!! THERE'S A GAPING HOLE IN HALF MY HALLS AND ROOF!! I HAD SHELVES OF IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS IN SOME OF THOSE ROOMS!! I WON'T BE ABLE TO REPLACE ANY OF THEM!! THE MASTER IS GOING TO GIVE ME A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH FOR THIS!! AND WORST OF ALL MY SERVANTS WERE NEARLY KILLED AND I'M MISSING A WOMAN AND CHILD!!" KyoGAI hissed and Screamed out an unintelligible screech before rounding on his heel to face the just as equally angry Upper Moon next to him. "BUT WORST OF ALL YOU COME ALL THE WAY HERE TO TELL ME THAT THEY WERE KIDNAPPED AND NOW KAIGAKU IS TAKING THEM OFF TO WHO KNOWS WHERE?!"

AKAZA sighed and help up a barely contained hand. "I understand you're deeply upset but you have to remain calm-"

"UPSET!? UPSET IS A FUCKING UNDERSTATEMENT!! IM. FUCKING. P I S S E D O F F!!! DO YOU NOT SEE WHAT THOSE WATER BEETLES HAVE DONE TO MY WHOLE LIVELIHOOD?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PROVIDE FOR MY PEOOLE?! WHERE AM I GOING TO GET THE MATERIALS TO FIX THIS?!"

Akaza sighed and only shook his head. "Look. All I know is that Kokushibo got into my head just now. He said you already told him someone damaged your home and then I just explained to both of you want really happened. Hantengu's sons have gotten really out of hand. According to him they were after that child for whatever reason but that's not the important thing now. What's important is that they're all safe and no one's gotten hurt yet."

"Then what about the one's who caused this mess?!"

Veins appeared all along Akaza's arms as deadly fists tightened up. "That's why I said yet. Kokushibo is on his way as we speak, at his insane speed he should be here within a day and a half to assess the damage. I'm going to be tracking down the ones who did this and take them to Hairou until Kokushibo can decide what's to be done about them.'' Golden blue eyes glanced up and hissed when he saw a young lady crying hard as Eri wrapped bandages around her leg. "Dammit! All these innocent women so affected by their reckless actions. It pisses me off to no end!"

"Then you should go find them before they come back or before they decide to go after Y/n again!"

And that thought only pissed him off more. He looked back to Kyogai. "Will you be able to take care of everything until Kokushibo gets here?"

"If he'll be here as soon as you say then I can manage a day or two until he arrives. You need to stop them before they end up killing somebody! It's only a matter of time."

Kyogai was right. It was only a matter of time. And he had to find them. Quickly. And find them he did. Pretty easily might he add. He had helped Kyogai for a little bit first moving some debry around and helping with some of the victims. After everyone was accounted for and left. The first place he went to was the place that was full of collapsed trees, and scotch marks from hundreds of lightning bolts. Anyone could clearly tell a fight between powerful demons went on here with branches and fallen trees littering the ground everywhere. But there wasn't any signs of any demons still hanging around the area. So he opted to pack up and move onward to a different direction. The scent they left behind was strongest towards the north of here so that's where he opted to go. North. Fast strides. And no more than five miles away was where the five people responsible for such heinous crimes. All sitting down a small bonfire with a wild pig roasting over the flames.

"We've been searching these woods for ages!! And still no sign of any of them!! Dammit, Karaku!! You are such a fucking idiot!!!"

"Hey. Don't blame me for it!" The green eyed one pointed at the youngest. "Zohakuten should've used his wooden dolls and trapped them when he had the chance!!''

"HE COULD'VE IF YOU DIDN'T BLOW THEM AWAY!! AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING!! WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU AND UROGI WHEN WE NEEDED YOU!?"

"I WAS TAKING CARE OF FATHER AND LEFT LATER THAN YOU FOUR AND YOU KNOW THAT!! IT TOOK ME A FEW HOURS TO CATCH UP WITH YOU!! WHERE WERE YOU AND KARAKU WHEN I DID SHOW UP?!," the youngest brother demanded as equally raged as his oldest brother, "AND WHY WERE THESE THREE ACTING LIKE LOVE STRUCK PUPS?!"

"HEY! I happened to have almost drowned! I nearly died!," The one with the wings shouted back perched on a low hanging branch, "Do you know how hard it is to move with wet wings weighing your spine down?!"

"A-And I was poisoned and helpless at the time. B-B-But Sekido has a point Karaku. You shouldn't have done that," the blue one stuttered out.

"Alright! I fucked up but don't gang up on me when Sekido was the one who kept getting beheaded and left us to do most of the work! And I was blown away by that stupid samurai! How was it my fault I acted on fighting instincts?!"

"It's quite easy to explain really. ALL OF YOU ARE USELESS BUMBLING IDIOTS!! I CAN'T COUNT ON YOU FOR ANYTHING!!" AKAZA STARTED stepping forward. "KARAKU IS DISTRACTED BY ANY PRETTY WOMAN!! BOTH UROGI AND KARAKU NEVER TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY!! AIZETSU NEVER GROWS A DAM BACK BONE WHEN HE NEEDS TOO!" Akaza slowly stepped out from behind some trees. "AND ZAHAKUTEN IS MORE STUBBORN AND THINKS HE KNOWS EVERYTHING!! AND THE MASTER IS GOING TO BE FURIOUS WITH US!! HIS COULD LITERALLY NOT BE ANY WORSE!!"

Karaku froze in his spot first seeing the taller Upper Moon approach Sekido from behind. Aizetsu wheezed a breath out stuttering and holding up a hand to shakily pointed behind him. Zohakuten leaned over to look past Sekido and much like Karaku immediately froze. Urogi choked on the roasted pig leg he was eating which landed on the ground with a thud and he began coughing a lot.

"What's wrong with you morons now?! Does the truth hurt? GOOD!! MAYBE YOU'LL BE ABLE TO- HRK!!" Something strong wrapped around his neck and lifted him up. He choked and dropped his staff to grab at the hand wrapped around his neck before he was turned and froze as he stared into the rage filled eyes of Upper Moon Three.

"I should've expected you to be trouble. As soon as you became Upper Moon Four you challenged me without thinking." His grip tightened. "Now all of you are going to put out that fire and come with me. If not-...Well Kokushibo never said to keep you in one piece. He only said to bring you back. Now what will it be."

....The bonfire was quickly put out and five men were marched off towards the direction of the Infinity Castle.

**********************************"****************************************

Hmm.

Well this certainly was quite a headache wasn't it? After all why wouldn't it be? He had a lot of work on his shoulders to complete. He didn't have the time to get all these problems. The beginning of the year was fine enough. It was only when he summoned Kaigaku to train that he was made aware of the news.

The bark of trees felt rough against the palm of grey skin, perfect to blending into shadows and walking along the darkness of the cursed trees that beckoned any unknowing traveler further into their branches. A light step. Another light step. Light enough to not be heard by anyone my dear. A quiet mouse amongst the darkness a contrast to the many others in the surroundings. He moved amongst the shadows which were his best friends. His only allies in this battle of the most deadliest predator to live among them and for once he wasn't at the top of the deadly food chain.

Dark tree past dark tree. Weaving past darkness and limbs and lungs heavy with air whirled around by the wind. Close. The danger was close. Breath. Sweet air was the need. The fuel for the best outcome. For his eventual clash with the death bringer. The trees couldn't hide that from him. Adrenaline pumping. Viens bunching up as a black tsuka of a katanna was grabbed, burnt to the touch as the rumbling of thunder was fueled by the whirling, taunting, wind in his lungs to make way for an electrical storm that bubbled through his blood vessels and gave the needed power to metal to become the lightning strike that shook the scene before him. All time became irrelevant as with each mighty push of his body from the allied shadows gave him the momentum for the target gaining closer and closer to his face. Where was it? WHERE WAS IT WHERE WAS IT?! He felt it was close so whe-

SHING!!

A metal against metal sounds. A shine of silver in the dark. A dash of shadow. And a strike of thunder. The thunder struck the moon hard with a might that should be feared certainly. But the moon always shines brighter. A deadly hand struck out and with one blow to his head. The thunder was defeated.

"You have... improved greatly since our last meeting...But you...still rush things too much.."

There was a mumble from the body on the ground followed by a loud groan. Yep. He'd have a headache for the rest of the day now.

"If...you had waited ...ten more seconds... you would have...dealt a great blow to my...shoulder blade... However you seem to be...in better spirits..than before." There was a sound as a moon's blade was put away. "Get up...We shall try again immediately..."

The black cloaked body cursed at himself but pushed himself to his feet as he was ordered. "Yes. Let's try again."

"... Perhaps you..have something on your mind...that distracts you? You seem...oddly calmer...But I doubt...you have learnt patience yet."

"Heh. You could say that I guess." A rare smile that wasn't as smug was smiled.

"The magatama on your wrist...did you perhaps...lose it again?"

"...No. I chose to present it to someone else."

"Explain."

"I'm engaged."

Silence.

"....I see. ...I was not expecting this...Who?"

"It's complicated. I honestly don't believe it myself a few times. ...But it's not important. I'm ready to continue. Let's try again-"

"No...You shall explain...to me..all details at once..it is...a matter that... impacts your... ability to..concentrate. I must know...in order to ..best make it so...you focus..."

It was quite a surprise for him to learn about the entire situation. A human girl stumbling blindly in here being chased by other demons during mating season and then being chased into the safety of Kyogai's mansion only to be courted by his apprentice and agreed to be engaged. To be fair not the worst surprise he's ever heard of but it was still a surprise anyone wanted to marry such a angry samurai. ...Hmm. he'd look into it later. Unfortunately any training had to be cut short with news reaching him about a string of murders in the capital. A slew of murders had taken place overnight and seven girls between the ages of sixteen and twenty had been brutally slaughtered in one night. He had to cancel the last week of their planned training to go and see what this was all about. He was afraid it could've been a demon with Bloodlust Syndrome. This wasn't good. However not even a few days later it went from bad to worse thanks to himself being summoned by Nakime and Kyogai and Akaza.

"What seems to...be the problem."

"What's wrong?! I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG!!," Kyogai mentally screamed at him. Hmm. Strange. Usually the lowest Kizuki was much more docile to him but it seemed something riled him up beyond rational thinking. "TELL THE MASTER TO CALL OFF HANTENGU'S SONS!! THEY DESTROYED MY HOME AND KIDNAPPED TWO PEOPLE UNDER MY CARE!! AKAZA JUST ARRIVED AND HAD TO EXPLAIN WHO THEY WERE!!!"

Akaza stewed silently in agreement to their right as Nakime silently observed keeping them all together.

"Calm yourselves... Explain...in detail...what has happened."

He was mentally rubbing his temples by the time Akaza and Kyogai had finished explaining the entire situation to him. The things he had to fix on a daily basis was maddening as it was infuriating.

"Where is Kaigaku? Tell him...to assist...until I arrive."

"I can't. I ordered him to get the woman and child somewhere safe."

He mentally turned to face Akaza. "You went... deliberately..over my head...and ordered him..away?"

"I had to ensure the victims they were after were safe!" Akaza spoke with barely held back rage. "What do YOU think I should've done?!"

"....We will discuss.... you're disrespect later...for now you will...track down the ones responsible..and bring them to...Hairou for holding...until I can arrive. I must see...the damage done....When you have delivered them...you will bring the girl...and child to me. They seem...the focus..of much trouble...I have to figure out. Until then...you are all... dismissed." A strum from Nakime cut off both of the Kizuki talking to him originally but he still had one other thing to do. "Nakime...Bring me... Kaigaku immediately."

STRUM!!

The sounds of the biwa guitar sounds out and he waited patiently mentally rubbing his temples. Perfect. Now he would have to put his investigation on hold while he saw over this mess. He only had to wait ten minutes but eventually someone joined the two of them. An irritated annoyed presence that was familiar to him but the new male paused when he noticed Kokushibo there.

"Sensai?," Kaigaku asked clearly confused to what was going on.

"I'll get to..the point. I am aware of your problem....You left your..post and...took the human girl and ...child somewhere." Kaigaku remained silent. "Akaza will be there...in five days time..to retrieve them from your...custody..you are to leave..them and head back...to your post.. immediately."

"WHAT?! BUT I CAN'T!! SHE NEEDS ME!!" Kaigaku pushed back with force that his stubbornness came with. "She can't be left alone!! What kind of thing is that to ask me?!"

"Are. You. Questioning. Me." Kaigaku went cold and silent. "You. Will. Do. As. I. Say. Immediately. Or there will be.... consequences. Nakime."

STRUM!!

Their connection was severed and he was left in his own body. Again sighing and getting ready to experience a massive headache. Things were not going as he liked.

************************************************************************************

-THIS NEXT PART TAKES PLACE A FEW DAYS AFTER CH 29-

Something's bubbling in one corner. Something stinks of chemicals on the desk. The world in here was dark save for random candle lights. What lied inside was not for the faint of heart and where brave men wouldn't even dare venture. So maybe that's why he did. He was considered insane after all. Insane enough to poke the sleeping dragon. He knew the monster inside knew of his presence long before he just blatantly opened the door with a loud creak.

"Did you bring me what I wanted?"

The figure in the dark corner didn't even look up from his work. A small syringe in his hand dripping a few drops of a clear orange liquid into a slightly larger vile of crystal clear different liquid. The few orange drops were swirled inside like small mists. Footsteps approached him and he still didn't bother to look up when a small notepad was placed on the table next to him.

"And that is?"

"New information I got on her from Kaigaku. You should read it over and have a look. It's actually quite interesting.~"

Red eyes finally bothered to look up and put down his work. The viles put down. And the notepad slid over and opened. There was silence as teal eyes watched as pages were slowly read. The only sounds were the crinkling of paper as pages were only turned ...and slowly the notepad was closed.

"....Bring me Kokushibo. I want all Kizuki to the Infinity Castle immediately. And I want that human with them."

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gallavich-headcanon · 2 years ago

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hello, my head is empty and i saw a baby bird on my dashboard, cue

mickey finding an egg in ians garden one day when ian asks him to water the plants (ian has to stay a little longer at work but insists at watering the garden at the same time every day)

at first he isnt sure what to do, he should probably leave it be right? but then again what if some animal takes it and eats it or something? it doesnt look like any egg hes seen before so he takes to google, searches by image and comes up with the conclusion that it must be a northern cardinals egg (i checked and its a common red bird in chicago)

he takes the egg inside and after making a very diy nest in a shoebox goes back to google

i can see it so clearly - mickey researching everything there is to know about caring for an egg, not even intentionally it just kind of happens. one second hes just trying to make sure on the type of bird its supposed to be and the next hes checking craigslist for heat lamps

i cant decide whether or not mickey would tell ian right away. maybe hed be embarassed, try to hide it for a while? or would he be so busy reading about caring for an egg he doesnt even notice ians back home until its too late to even think about hiding it?

its something that unexpectedly becomes so very important to mickey, lets him explore his more delicate side in a way that he never has the chance to before. a small step towards warming up to being a parent, perhaps?

idk where i was going with this, my brain literally just saw a baby bird and thought mickey

thoughts?

also it could go either way, aprox. 14 days pass and the egg hatches everyone is happy and either they keep the bird until it can safely leave or they keep it as a "pet" of sorts or the egg doesnt hatch at all but ian convinces mickey that they could get another egg, buy it from someone that cares for birds or something just so they know for sure that that one will hatch

(thats a more "angsty" approach - mickey thinking he did something wrong, is overwhelmed with emotions he doesnt understand. its emotions he never gave himself the chance to process, a lot of things that hes had bottled up for years - the egg not hatching acting as the straw that broke the camels back)

Mickey finding an egg in the garden is such a funny idea!

(I googled it for y'all)

(i checked and its a common red bird in chicago) -> hahah I appreciate the research!

One second hes just trying to make sure on the type of bird its supposed to be and the next hes checking craigslist for heat lamps -> Listen, he's a go big or go home kind of guy. No in between. He's so cute though! trying to take care of the egg.

I cant decide whether or not mickey would tell Ian right away. -> I think he would be embarrassed but way more concerned for the egg, that he comes clean right away! He's worried about the egg! He needs help. Ian can laugh at him later but he needs someone to keep it warm while he googles more things.

idk where i was going with this, my brain literally just saw a baby bird and thought mickey -> me with every single thing that happens to me lol

NO TO THE ANGST I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE MICKEY BEING HEARTBROKEN BY A DEAS BABY BIRD.

I want it to hatch, and Mickey would take care of it, until it's read to leave. Mickey would be extremely sad when the bird leaves but at least it's healthy and happy. When Ian asks him if he wants to get a bird / pet, Mickey declines. These were the most stressful 3 weeks of his life, he's exhausted. The keep a picture Ian took of Mickey and the egg/bird on the fridge.

I have so many feelings about Mickey and that egg.

#marstheterrible #sorry it took me so long!#gallavich headcanon #unhinged feelings #my headcanons #gallavich #shameless #ian x mickey

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sekhithefops · 2 years ago

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The Son's Garden

So, I'm autistic. One of the issues I have because of it is called "social overload." I get stressed out very easily when I have to deal with a lot of people, sometimes to the point that it actually causes me physical pain if it gets bad enough.

I live with my mother as well, and most days after work I'm totally burnt out and want to be left alone when it comes to face to face interactions. She... also doesn't quite get how this stuff works and can't quite wrap her head around the idea that I'm not ignoring her because of her, but because of everyone else I had to deal with that day. She keeps hovering around me and going on about how I can't even say something to her when all I'm doing is waiting for her to give me some peace after working all day.

So I decided to vent my frustrations about this via writing. Its a rough thing, mostly written out of emotion, but yeah. Here it is.

The Son’s Garden

In a land far away, there were gardens. Some were big, some were small, some were full of vibrant flowers, some were plain and simple but a joy nonetheless, but everyone had a garden of their own.

It was tradition to share your garden with those close to you, but for one young man this was difficult. His garden was wide but the soil there was unusual, and plants grew only with difficulty. He did his best to grow what he could, but it took a long time and hard work and the plants that grew did not grow well.

To make matters worse the garden was along a well-traveled road and every day travelers would trample the young man’s garden to pieces. They did not mean to; some were just in a hurry to get where they were going, some did not realize what they were walking across, some were upset and their emotions blinded them to what they were doing, some were drunk and too taken by their revels to see the delicate blooms trampled underfoot.

Thus, the young man’s garden at the end of each day was left in ruins. What few buds he could grow were stomped into the dirt or torn up by the hooves of horses, some were chewed up by wild animals, few were left unmolested… and all he could do is try to rebuild with what little time he had to himself.

The young man’s mother would often ask him why he did not share his garden with her. He tried explaining to her how he was sore all over from the work of keeping it maintained at all, how hard it was to even grow in the soil of said garden, and how every day the multitudes he dealt with would wreak havoc on it. He tried to put up fences and signs, but they ignored them completely. He tried his hardest to plant and grow and fertilize and weed, but it was of no use.

His mother lived her own life, sequestered in a tiny cottage, and did not see the people stomping through her son’s garden. Only the aftermath when her son would be tired and weary, bereft of all energy, and unable to even offer a single flower… for he often had none left to give after each day.

She only saw her son as a dour and angry young man who would ignore her or snap at her. She did not see him try in vain to guide travelers around his garden, weep in frustration at the buds torn to pieces by dozens of boots, the carefully tilled soil wrecked by cart wheels, and the like.

She did not understand his frustrations, stating only that she had to deal with such too when she was younger, or that he should feel fortunate to have grown what he had. Her own garden had been home to a rather horrible beast in her younger days, a large dog that she had invited in one day when it was young and sleek, but who became more ferocious and feral as the years went past until she was finally forced to chase it away.

Her problem was gone, the dog had fled for parts unknown and was a distant memory now, and her garden grew small but lovely flowers in all colors and patterns without the beast.

But her son’s garden was not her garden. The soil was different, the seeds were different, everything was different about it, and while she no longer had to deal with a beast trampling her garden her son had to contend with not one but dozens of people a day doing so.

His mother felt that if she could spare a bloom, so should her son. After all, everyone has a garden.

But not all gardens are the same, infact precious few of them are. How her son wished that one day she might understand this.

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

As I said, this was mostly something I wrote as a venting piece. I don't dislike my mother, but she can't quite get how this stuff works even after an entire childhood of going to therapy and counseling for stuff (to be fair I was born in 1986 so for a good chunk of my childhood the autism spectrum wasn't even a concept yet,) but yeah. Just needed to get that out.

#autism #neurodivergent #short story #short ficiton #metaphor #social issues #social interaction #mental health

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colleenmurphy · 2 years ago

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"One hour and thirty-five minutes...Jesus. Never said I'd do this."

'Well. There's a million and one things you said you would never do, Normy ol' chum. Committing to that lovely lady inside the house on 102 Bayberry Lane was one of them and you did that.'

Edging the nose end of the impossibly practical Ford he was issued into the adjoining garage. It was a sprawling place that hadn't been more than a farmhouse when they'd bought it back in '80 just after she'd gotten the teaching job at the Sloughbridge Academy and he had made detective. Sure she had been the only member on staff that wasn't going grey and he was the only guy in the department that actively looked forward to going home to his wife. Four bedrooms two baths and a finished basement with a fully stocked bar. An in ground pool in the back with a garden oasis and a damn koi pond. Colleen Stansfield nee Murphy had a way of getting things done. He had been gone on a stakeout for two days and he'd come home to her digging the pond out by hand by herself with a shovel wearing overalls four sizes too big and one of his ribbed white undershirts. Long dark hair had been plopped into a bun on top of her head and she was covered with dirt and jabbering away about Koi breeds and frogs and all sorts of plants she had planned. The second stakeout he'd come back to a fully constructed greenhouse. His wife certainly had vision and drive and they never lacked fresh food thanks to her scatterbrained ideas.

"You came into my life like a fucking bullet."

Grabbing his suit coat and his wallet from the dash he felt something fall out of the pocket near his foot. The pills. Mr. John Smith's Librium to be exact. Prescribed by Dr. Schlafen. Two totally fictitious people to get his grubby little hands on a thing that helped him keep it all together. Another bullet in his life, each one of them. He'd never touched anything heavier than Col's home grown hippie lettuce until he'd gotten in with the big heavies at the DEA. First he needed something to keep himself up. Then bring him down. That's where Col' and her stash came in. But now...now this. Just during work hours, to make it go fuzzy. Here at home he had a glass of wine or two and enjoyed his time with his wife. Here at 102 Bayberry he was just Norm, or babe or 'Belly Rubber to the dog and 'Butler' to the cat.

Throwing the pills into the glove compartment he closed the driver's side door and walked up the front walkway. The front flower beds had been replanted with Butterfly bushes and lavender along with catmint and yarrow. The humidity of the day hit him harder here than it had in the city oddly enough. A summer storm was looking to roll in.

Some Lou Gramm song was playing on the stereo as he stepped into the front hall. Greeted by two very large mutts he had brought home after his shift when he spotted the box. Laurel and Hardy were exemplary dogs trained in both home defense and given to companionship. The feline of the house sauntered down the stairs and appraised him with her pinched face and spring green eyes much like her mistress's. Mrs. Danvers was an aptly named feline. No sign of aforementioned mistress either yet.

'Where the hell could she be? I hope she's not stuck again in the pantry.'

Popping his head into the kitchen she wasn't there either. Then smell hit him before he saw the smoke as a low rumble of thunder caught his attention. Out on the back deck overlooking the pool and koi pond he found her sitting with her legs criss-crossed as she sat with her back straight a metal rod, her long dark hair piled on top of her head. She must have been out in her studio because she wore her usual tank top with paint covered jean shorts, barefooted. He noticed that her toes were painted a cheery lantern red. He smiled and made a mental note to suggest a take out for dinner.

'Or perhaps dinner on the waterfront? She's got a sundress that would show off that tan.'

"Welcome home, Nor."

She held out a long slender hand to him, offering him the handmade pipe she'd made many years ago in her first pottery studio.

"You do know that I'm obligated to report this and most likely arrest you."

A grin spread across her face as she sauntered over to his side and kissed his cheek before moving to forehead and then finally to his lips leaving a lingering tingle on them. She smelled of lavender, chamomile and the spicy heady burnt rope and brown sugar of her homegrown.

"You wouldn't dare and you know it, Stansfield."

Norman Edward Stansfield was a man who had done some Things in his life, as his wife would call it, and many of theme had come to regret but marrying her was something he would do a million times for a million years until the stars burned out.

#Norman & Colleen Stansfield #@aristobun #still completely rough sorry for the typos

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kirsteng42 · 1 year ago

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Always a good time with Javi P!!!

Javier Peña’s Sex Lighting

S1E2 and S1E4

Oye, we know Javier Peña fucks. Let’s take a closer look at how he sets the mood:

Javier knows the power of good lighting; overhead lights are off and he relies on soft lamps, including the ugly lamp on the bar behind him.

This lamp in the entry way below the dog prints is gone when Elisa is hiding out in his apartment, so this is definitely a sofa sex-lighting lamp.

The kitchen undercabinet light, which appears to be a soft glow instead of harsh fluorescent. All the better to sex you with, my dear.

And the small gooseneck lamp highlighting his huge answering machine and that sweet ass stereo system.

The only thing more romantic than this lighting would be candlelight, and I wouldn’t put it past him, but maybe he just doesn’t think that far ahead.

Now, let’s take a look at the bedroom:

It’s a little hard to make out, but it looks like there’s a bedside lamp giving off this wonderfully warm glow:

And in the next shot, we see another lamp on a table adjacent to the wall. I wonder what Javi’s budget was for lamps?

Overall, I’m impressed with his sensuality. If I were on the fence, I would definitely fuck Javi once I was under the influence of these soft lights. (I also lament the loss of these soft bulbs to LEDs. RIP soft pink blush bulbs that made my skin glow…)

#javier peña #narcos #the love of my life #i blank Elisa out of my memory #hated that character so much!#the lighting is beautiful #He Knows what bulb colour shows his skin off to perfection #dea homes and gardens

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lonespektr · 1 year ago

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OCTOBER 22 & 23 HORROR WATCH

Make ups

Red Rose 1x1, 1x2, 1x3

Smart House dependent can't turn on her own lights by hand

As soon as her mom comes home she jumps???

Apparently they sign shirts over there

One brown person nobody likes ... Alright

Everyone got an invite to Beckys except this one

Whop turns out becks is being nice she didn't invite her because there's a cover charge and she knows she po

Lol where is the music coming from???

Our protag has wandered away from the party and been linked - via becks

A vid/game!!!

Of red rose

Masquerading as a beauty filter app

This guy old enough to play a dad now??

The other one they all hate is south asian

And apparently the gonnies aren't cool

This is what's wrong with children these days

It's targeting lonely people that's pretty foul

Hanging out in the graveyard ...with???

Those meter things in the UK for electricity are predatory as shit as soon as the power goes out the phone bugs her this like big data

And boom three wishes the power comes back on

Do they like a drain on society???? 🧐🧐

Do they look like they want to speak to the manager???

Not climate change 🤣🤣

Lol wtf

It told her build a fire

It's recording and accessing her apps

Here it is again they keep showing the kids of ghost of themselves

The kids appear to be fighting about literally nothing

Oh that's her mom

Figured that was her dad because the other dad was also mid thirties

All them little friends is broke but i guess shes food stamp pantry broke

The other one was rich so why target her

She's not wondering why the phone knows ger friends name

OH SHIT

She declined to do a thing the phone told her to do it hacked the tv and put up shame video standing in the food pantry line

And it's been texting her friends and sending her fake texts

Wild

Phone to her to kiss the guy her friend was seeing and that's on the tv now??

Ohhh now it's sending live vids of her little sisters she left at home

She told each twin they are in charge of the other one , which if they are both responsible girls is smart 🤣🤣

1x2

The lights are out at the house again what happened to that 100$ credit??

Can't believe Americans don't have that shit system

The girls are safe but they were hiding in the cubbord

They said someone was in the garden

The electronics are going in and out but she doesn't have a smart house so the phone can't do that

The phone keeps showing her her dead mom in partial silhouette haunting the house

She deletes the app

Mental illness/suicide

The app obvs did not delete

Gross now the phone is using her dead moms voice

Absolutely foul

This is just abject cruelty

She used her common sense and didn't message her she wrote a letter

They may but they are so shit at communicating thru didn't resolve anything

Literally no reason to carry the phone though

Okay well she wanted to show her the thing but before and afterwards you should have taken the battery out

Twins and dad are off to visit family

Unclear why dark black hair hates new guy

It's just random children stuff as soon as the two indian kids made a decent joke they are now legit

Apparently

Mam are you googling exorcisms on the posessed phone?

Church got bose blue tooth surround sound

Phone does not want to be exercised and something is sneaking up behind her (in the camera)

Keep throwing holy water at it

It stopped.

The kids have crowd sourced that the phone is the common denominator and new south adian kid says it doesn't really matter if it's not real because she's having a shit go

Dude they saw the phone deconstructed on the floor right???

Then they are saying she posted something

The phone is on the floor ??? The windows open

One kick

It's a flimsy lock

You could say it's cause their house is shitty but it could also be cause they already had to break that door down once

folks remember that suicides and family deaths is an increased high risk for suicide of their loved ones

That is a cheap ass casket they are dirt poor or the UK regular folk do not bury dead like the US

That was short of a pine box by two gold handles and some laquer

Sis don't download it baby

Bro you hiding behind the closet

AI hacker stalker

How he not see it, it was right there???

Panopticon see 👀👀👀

Now other apps are doing stuff WTF???

The overarching thing is poverty and not great parents or unavailable parents due to poverty

They all jumped to ghosts instead of just a hacker

She's

#graywatchhorror23 #red rose

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daydreamingnightscreaming · 1 year ago

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Reoccurring Nightmares

I have had two reoccurring nightmares in my lifetime. It never sounds scary when I talk about them out loud or even typing it out, but the way I wake up with my heart racing...

So, the first one I've had a lot since I was about four years old. It stopped when I was around thirteen and about five years ago, it happened again but with a small twist.

When I was little, I used to have dreams about my "other mother". I used to tell my mom that she wasn't my mom, that I have a mom, and she was tall with long brown hair, down to her waist, she always wore dresses, and I never knew her name. Obviously, this used to break my moms heart. I was kind of a shitty kid. But hey, what kid knows any better?

The first nightmare I had, I was in this two story house that was very similar to my grandma Sophie's house. Which was oddly a one story. It was like my mind took it and stretched it. I know it was her house, cause she always had a mirror down at the end of the hallway that I ALWAYS avoided looking into. It was creepy! Gave me uncomfortable vibes when I would have to go use the restroom. On the outside of the nightmare house, it wasn't my grandma's. It was kind of vintage style with a black roof, very green lawn, and very innocent feeling. Until I would take a step onto the grass.

That's when I would feel the agonizing fear in my chest. Every time I would tell myself, "why are we going in here again?" As much as I didn't want to, dream me had different plans. We would enter and the heaviness would be so overwhelming I just wanted to run, but I couldn't. I knew every time what was going to happen. I would go down the hall, avoiding looking into the mirror, and I would go into "my room" of the house - keep in mind, I never had my own room at my grandma's. I would open the door and things would be thrown, voices everywhere, screams, things floating in the air. One time when I had the dream, I was able to lay on the bed and speak to some of the voices. I kind of took over my space in the dream. Made this weird boundary. Told them to knock it off on throwing my stuff and they weren't allowed. But every time, they won. I would run out of there. In the hallway, my grandma had photos of everyone up, and they would be broken, smashed, or thrown off the walls. Every time I had to jerk myself awake to escape it all. Sometimes there would be more rooms I would go into, but usually it was just "my room" and then I'd have to drag myself out of it.

The next nightmare, I tended to have during my teenage years. It was very odd and slight details would change every time.

So, from what I remember, it was kind of Hocus Pocus meets Haunted Mansion meets The Haunting vibe. The Haunting used to scare the living shit out of me, by the way. The garden is what really always stood out to me in that movie and definitely plays it's part here. So outside of this huge house/mansion, was a cemetery full of unmarked graves. I would enter into the garden area and be greeted by the owners of the home. Young, mid-thirties couple, and they would tell me to be careful right before sundown; to be locked up in a room and not come out until the sun was back up. Now, I don't remember ever staying there, but sometimes my brother and mom would be with me, other times it was just me. I would go up the winding stairs (seriously look up the Haunting garden, it's freaking beautiful), and down the hallway where the bedrooms were. Before I could do anything the whole building would tremble and sure enough there was a full on army of spirits.

I was always able to get out and go down the hills to the houses and make it to my "moms house". When I would get there, I'd remember "No, I need to go get Cindy." (Cindy is my first dog, who passed away in 2009). My family would tell me I was crazy and that I needed to get inside, I would tell them no, grab a broom, and fly back to the mansion. (Yeah, I know.) In the hallway again, I would call out to Cindy. It would be deafening quiet. I would open the door on the right and there she would be, sitting, waiting for me. I'd tell her lets get going and we would walk out of the room together. Or, she would be down the hallway and guide me to this said room, and be waiting for me. This is another dream I would have to shake myself awake. Usually crying.

Now remember how I mentioned my "other mother"? Well, this last time I had this dream, I was about 23 years old. When Cindy and I would go to leave, she would stop in the hallway and though I knew another person was walking towards me, I just kind of kept my eyes to the floor. You know, like when you don't wanna make eye contact on accident with someone you're walking past? I looked up when they got closer and it was my other mother. She stopped and smiled at me. Before I could say anything, her and Cindy would be gone. I'd wake up.

Now, I feel like I could either make one of these a short story. Or even combine the two. I like a lot of details in stories, but I tend to see everything as a movie and babble when I write. I wonder if I could do it. I'm going to look into resources and see if maybe I can make this a thing.

This blog will be my dream journal, my inspiration, my ideas, and even some draft chapters. We'll see <3

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fourtwentythousandmiles · 2 years ago

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Day 63

The long return home

Waking in our gorgeous room, with a late breakfast and a late checkout, as well as a mini bottle of champagne to finish, was the perfect way to slowly say goodbye.

It was humid as hell even after pouring with rain in a huge deluge as we were walking to the breakfast spot.

But Dea and I took a stroll around the sleepy old part of town as a last goodbye to the wonderful architecture and gardens.

Breakfast was traditional Japanese multi course with cold alcohol free sake, grilled fish and some delicious savory tastes.

The taxi ride to the airport was hassle free and with a 4pm boarding we had plenty of time for last minute Uniqlo shopping and some tasty food.

Flight’s boarded, on time and ready for take off. Is pouring with rain and Typhoon Lan is due in a day or two so we’re keen to get our 10 hours flying back to San Jose underway.

And we’re back, safely at home, unloaded and doing the wash as we try to fall into the right sleeping habits.

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hazbinextgeneration · 2 years ago

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Demon Bride Ch15 Of Reading And Memories P2

Credit to @flanelltees for the designs I based the demons off to look more demon-like with tails and pointed ears.

...Right

WARNINGS!!!:Mentioning of reader's injuries also reader gets a papercut and a little bit of blood is shown, also mentioning of past abuse, death, killing, and past abusive homes considering the Spider Family. Kyogai does have a garden, it looks something like the picture linked below only a bit bigger. Also spider family is Rui's actual family for this au.)

First Part Here:

Demon Bride Ch 1 Thus It Begins

(WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS!!! EVERYONE in this story is in their early 20s-30s! This story will contain mentions of past abuse and death! I'l

TUMBLR

Last Part Here:

Next Part Here:

To be added

First of all the Q and A answers. Thank you to EVERYONE who asked questions. Secondly the chapter will be under neath the answers. I'll be answering them all to the best of my ability without outright spoiling the story outright. I won't be listing anyone names or be saying who asked what, but rest assured your question will be here if you asked one since I copy pasted them all here. If there is more than one question next to one another then it's because the person asked more than one question. Now without further delay- Let's get into the answers and then the next chapter underneath them!

*How do you get the motivation to write this?

Slow and steady to avoid burnout, breaks if I need them, and my love for the Demon Slayer Series.

*what the other think of y/n when y/n ran away from the village and what insipire you to write this cool story?

That will be answered further in the story, can't spoil that since it's part of the main plot but let's just say everyone has mixed feelings. I was actually inspired by a few other animes! Studio Ghibil's Spirited Away, Bed and Breakfast For Spirits, Demon Slayer itself, Snow White With The Red Hair, and Studio Ghibli's The Cat Returns being the main inspos.

*Who’s your favourite character??

Gyutaro but just because he's my favorite that doesn't mean he'll get special treatment. All love interests will get equal love routes.

*will daki be her friend?

Semi-friends yes.

*Hopefully this isn't too much of a spoiler question but, will we be able to meet the upper moons soon enough?

Yes! In one way or another Y/n/You/reader will be able to meet all the upper moons.

*1. In Chapter 8: All in a Name, you wrote the story in the first paragraph about a mysterious man who was that Kokushibo or Yorichii? 2. Does a demon like or dislike eating human foods? 3. Is the story "Demon Bride" about various demons x reader or not? And why? 5. Who's your favorite demon and why? 6.Is the reader's eye truly purple? 7. Does the reader have anyone a close friend from her village? 8. The nice book story that was read by the reader was that from Kyogai? 9. Is it true that demons get blood donated by humans? If so, then did humans make a contract or deal with Muzan? 10. Does the reader get a chance to meet the Tsugikuni Twins?

1. I can't reveal who it was exactly but I CAN say who it was not. And no it is not Yorichii. Yorichii is deceased for a long time. 2. Yes! You might remember Kyogai eating in one chapter, But just like people every demon likes and dislikes certain foods. 3. YES! Because I love all these demons and I haven't seen any reverse harem stories for them so I made one. 5. Gyutaro. His backstory is the most moving to me. 6. Yes! But if you paid attention carefully they weren't always purple. 7. No. Reader is not particularly close to anyone. 8. Maybe! And it will be addressed next chapter so just wait and see! 9. Yes. All blood is either donated by the humans or Muzan trades things in exchange for it or pays the humans a certain amount of money for it all. 10. Yes but not until later in the story.

*Who is the hero of a story?

There's not really 'a hero' of the story although Y/n is the main protagonist.

*Like who do we have a chance with ! Human or demon

No Human love interests sorry. Since this is a story focusing on the Upper Moons specifically. But if you want a specific list of who all the demon romancable are : Douma, Akaza, Kokushibo, Kyogai, Kaigaku, Enmu, Gyutaro, and Hantengu's Clones which are actually his sons in this story: Sekido, Karaku, Urogi, Aizatsu, and Zohakuten.

That is all the questions. Again thank you everyone for asking and if you continue below, you'll be able to read the next chapter. Make sure to heed the warning on top of all chapters.

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(Warning: Kaigaku does have some wounds and some blood is mentioned, mentioning of wounds. The poem Akaza uses is linked below.

www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=qIw3Rg3q&id=DDE10E4367D38B04898F46C858988D71A4F55477&thid=OIP.qIw3Rg3qWqdQdwgzUuvXGwHaHa&mediaurl=https://th.bing.com/th/id/R.a88c37460dea5aa75077083352ebd71b?rik=d1T1pHGNmFjIRg&riu=http%3a%2f%2fmsmoem.com%2fwp-content%2fuploads%2f2014%2f07%2fa-poem-about-strength-ms-moem.jpg&ehk=q4ZMrjENPnaofSzcswNKF8XgbtIL62kjEFmHEKeNCxQ%3d&risl=&pid=ImgRaw&r=0&exph=560&expw=560&q=poem about strength&simid=608052612372314167&FORM=IRPRST&ck=1ECA4F6D9BD9E48A80216631F707A458&selectedIndex=4&ajaxhist=0&ajaxserp=0)

"You...Your blood...It smells of peach blossoms....I like that."

The last thing he was expecting when he came back to rest from a strenuous day was to be lured back by the sweet scent of the beautiful bud he came to appreciate. He figured Kyogai's little minions had somehow grown some in the garden considering that's where the smell was coming from but it was very...faint. Which was odd. In fact he didn't even smell a trace of it until he was just passing by the garden on his way back from the kitchen, but there was no mistaking the smell of the sweetened fruits he's come to know and fond over so well. His day had been extremely testing of his patience anyways, so why shouldn't he pop in and make the pathetic underlings hand them over to him? After all HE was the one who was doing all the protecting and patrolling for them and he over ranked all of them including Kyogai so it's not like they could do anything about it really. ...Plus he was tired of the kitchen just serving nothing but soups and pathetic stewed vegetables. Seriously, did no one know how to cook a good wild boar?! Or did Kyogai just never import any meats!? Those peaches were rightfully deserved by him! What he hadn't expected was the sudden shift in smell the closer he got to the source of the smell. And the reality of what it actually was made him irritated and snort the sweet smell from his nostrils.

It wasn't peaches!

It was peach blossoms!

Flowers!! He had gotten sidetracked by rotten flowers! What a waste of his time! He was more annoyed now, but then a thought hit him. Why would someone around here even have peach blossoms in the first place if they didn't have any peaches? It didn't make any sense. What did make sense was for him to investigate further into this matter not only because it confused him, but also because if there was any peaches about he absolutely wanted them and would have them even if he had to use force. But what he had come onto stumped him more than the smell itself. He wasn't expecting to stumble onto Y/n reading a book of all things to some snot nosed brats and their mom!...How'd she even get out here in the first place!? Did someone carry her? Dont tell him she walked there!! He was starting to get angry again. But all of that was put to the back of his mind when he smelt the scent. Stronger. More potent than before. It was drawing him to it almost mindlessly and he could care less about the little brats screams when he just marched up behind them startling them into shrieking in fright and running to clutch onto their mother. He just found the source of the smell.

Blood. HER blood.

Pinpointed to a small harmless cut on her right index finger. Well that didn't stop him from grabbing her hand, the sweet, sweet smell intoxicating enough to be classified as it's own poison. Blue and black eyes stared at the small still open cut on her fingertip, pupils blowing thin like a cat's as he lightly growled.

"Hmph. That's a neat trick. So how'd you do it? Do humans smell like fruit after consuming the food or something? And why are you bleeding anyways?''

Well.... this certainly was the last thing you would expect. In fact it was quite surprising, enough so that it made you drop the book onto the grassy ground, your wrist entrapped by Kaigaku's hand tightly. Almost enough to be painful but not quite. You just sat there stunned at first as he stared at you...Before frowning into a scowl.

"Kaigaku, what on earth do you think you're doing!?", you demanded and in one yank you were able to pull your arm from his grip-

Kaigaku paused blinking.

.....You were able to pull your hand out of his grip?

He paused more as you...stood up?? You stood straight up your other hand rubbing your wrist with a small hiss escaping your mouth as you glared daggers at him....How were you able to stand right now?

"ACK-" He leaned back with a blink as a firm prod poked him suddenly in the middle of his forehead. It didn't hurt him, no. Nothing a human could do could really harm him (at least nothing permanent) but he was off guard enough to yelp and smack a hand to his temples where Y/n had poked him. Followed by his own scowl and mini growl aimed at her. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!?"

"FOR ALL THE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS YOU CAUSED ME!! THAT'S 'WHAT'!?", Y/n snapped back at him pointing making him blink at her hand, "AND EVERYTHING ELSE YOU'VE CAUSED ME YOU WALKING PIG'S ARSE!!"

He flinched as your hand then pushed him back next. Strong enough to push him back one step. ONLY ONE STEP but still a step. Wait-....You were able to push him back a step?

"I STAY RIGHT ACROSS FROM YOUR ROOM!! ARE YOU A FULL OF SO MUCH ENERGY THAT YOU MUST KEEP ME UP ALL NIGHT AND WAKE ME UP SO EARLY IN THE MORNING!? AND IT'S NOT JUST NIGHT OR EARLY MORNING THAT YOU DO IT TOO!! YOU'RE LOUD AT ALL TIMES OF THE DAY!!! I CAN HEAR YOUR FITHY MOUTH THROUGH MY WALLS AND IT'S BOTH ANNOYING AND DISTRACTING AND MOST OF ALL RUDE!! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO GET BETTER IF I CAN'T SLEEP THROUGH YOUR RAMBLING!?"

He ...blinked again. ...Before shaking his head and opening his mouth-

"If you say anything vulgar in front of these children or their mother, so help me I'll have Kyogai contact whomever your 'Master' is and personally tell him everything you've done!"

THAT made Kaigaku's eyes widen before he scowled again. "Are you threatening me?" He growled in such a low tone that it might've been threatening but....You....Weren't afraid?? No. Instead Y/n placed her hands on her hips.

"No. I'm not threatening anyone. I'm just telling you exactly what I...would..." Purple eyes blinked as she paused. Her eyes gaining a look as if she was thinking 'Wait a moment', before they slowly widened and the scowl slowly melted away along with any annoyance on her face. He rose a brow at her reaction before she just blatantly pointed to his cheek. "You're bleeding!"

"....Huh?" A black nailed hand reached up to rub at his cheek. A small sting of pain came from his cheek and when he pulled back his hand, there was some red copper smelling liquid smeared lightly on it. "Oh yeah. Forgotten I had it."

"What happened to you!?"

"Tch." He rolled his eyes. Now Y/n was concerned all of a sudden? Humans were so dam weird. "Nothing I couldn't handle. Some dam idiot decided to challenge me to a Blood Battle for my title while I was out." Idiot. He didn't even follow the rules!! "The moron didn't want to wait for one of the Upper Moons to oversee the battle as witness per the rules, so I had to take care of that problem. Like I said nothing I couldn't handle." Although the idiot had slashed open his cheek. He must've had some kind of poison in his claws because his cheek was healing much slower than it normally would. Which is why he came here-

Y/n's index finger, which STILL had an open cut, directly touched the cut on his cheek. Getting some of the red blood on her own finger. "Does it hurt-"

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, WOMAN!?" He cried out and y/n blinked as he took a massive step back, instinctively reaching a hand behind him to grip the Katana handle hidden behind his head. "ARE YOU JUST TRYING TO ANNOY ME AT THIS POINT!?"

...The scowl was back on her face. "NO YOU DUNCE!! I WAS JUST TRYING TO SEE IF YOU WERE ALRIGHT!!"

"Oh! And now why would the human of all people want to do that?"

"Because I don't want to see you hurt!" He paused. "Believe it or not, I don't like to see anyone hurt especially someone who helped me out of danger's reach." She gestured at him. "You need to be more careful to not let wounds linger and take care of them."

He stared still at you blankly. Dumbly...and when you still didn't get an answer out of him, you sighed and even reached up to rub your face. Why? ...WHY must all these things happen to YOU of all people? Thousands of people in your lands and you had to be the single human to wind up in this situation. And why were demons so insistent on waiting for their wounds to magically heal up instead of taking care of themselves? First it was Kyogai with the wounds on his back and now Kaigaku was acting like a spoiled child who didn't get the sweets he wanted. The only difference was that Kyogai had listened and let Eri treat him after you asked him to let her, but something told you Kaigaku would more likely say 'Please' than listen to anyone trying to help him. Sigh....Well you couldn't just sit by and in good conscience let him stay hurt. Could you? No. So when your purple eyes just happened to scan behind him as he still stared, and saw the small garden's stream, you began to it. Kaigaku blinked as Y/n just casually stepped aside him and walked right on past him.....WAIT!! SINCE WHEN COULD SHE WALK LET ALONE STAND BY HERSELF!? Y/n walked all the way over to the small stream that was present and there she stood for a moment as he just stared at her...before Rasing a brow as she began doing something he couldn't see.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

He got no reply which irked him more.

"Are you deaf!? I said what are-"

RRIIIIIPPPP!!! He was interrupted by the sounds of what sounded like cloth being torn and Y/n all of a sudden knelt down to dip a balled up fist into the water.

"....Seriously. What ARE you doing!?"

Y/n still didn't answer as she lifted her hand back out of the water squeezing an object clenched within her fingers, and he finally saw what it was. It was a piece of cloth the same color as the plain Kimono she wore. Water dripped from the cloth as she squeezed it before giving it a few shakes and standing back up, turning as she did to face him. And he found out where the cloth came from when he saw the clear rip in her other sleeve from where it must've been ripped from. With a serious face, she approached him. Arms outstretched to his face and cloth dripping wet.

"Hold still!"

Kaigaku jumped back another step as you approached. "I'll ask again. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

"I'm going to clean your cut. DUH!"

"HELL NO!! I'M NOT LETTING YOU TOUCH ME!!!"

"Then take this and clean the cut yourself!" You said thrusting the cloth back at him making him take another step back, his back facing the tree. "The least you can do is take care of yourself."

"It'll heal on it's own! I don't need random humans fretting over me like you are!" Another step back-

"What is with men and insisting they're fine when they're clearly bleeding!? JUST TAKE THE CLOTH!!" You kept your hand forward to him as you stepped forward, making him again step back away from you,...and you paused. Kaigaku's back would end up hitting the tree if he kept backing up and didn't look where he was going...That was an idea. So you kept stepping. "Here! Just take it! I won't even have to touch you then!''

"NO! As if I'll rub my face with anything that touched human skin for a long period of time!" Just a few more steps to go.

"Stop being a big baby and just take it or hold still so I can do it!"

"I ALREADY SAID NO!! LEAVE ME ALONE!! FUCK OFF!!"

"You came and bothered me first! And not until you're taken cared of!"

"What is with you and-" His back came into contact with something hard and his head turned to see that he had backed up into the tree Y/n had been previously leaning against. Taking this chance, you leapt forward closing the distance between you both and reaching your hand out. The sudden movement made him snap back his face to you inhumanly fast. "THE FUCK ARE YOU-"

The words died on his tongue as soon as it hit him. An overpowering smell of blossoms. PEACH blossoms. It caught him so off guard that it stunned him for a moment, and he stood there in surprise but nothing could catch him more off guard then what he saw and felt next. A velvet like softness touched his face, like nothing he had ever really felt before, like a Featherly gentleness just gingerly keeping him put in place as beautiful lilac purple orbs pierced through the veils of flowers and gentle rain pierced through blood staining his skin, wiping it away like a gentle rain refreshing the dirtied earth once more.

"There. See? It's not so bad," you spoke gently like you would to a scared child, even smiling at the silent Kaigaku who did not dare move. One hand cupping his unharmed cheek to keep his head still, while the other gently rubbed the cloth over his cut on his other cheek. It didn't look very serious or deeply slashed and the bleeding had stopped long ago, thank goodness, but it needed to be cleaned as did the smeared blood around it. You supposed the blood wasn't too smudged on because it all came off rather quickly when you ran the wet cloth around the cut before directly cleaning said cut. All the while Kaigaku did not move an inch, not even flinching when you finished cleaning him up. When all was said and done, you released him and took a step back to give him small smiling. "See? It didn't take that long, and now your wound looks so much better."

He still didn't react to what you said, but he did blink and looked down when you all of a sudden grabbed one of his hands and rose a brow at it. His hands still had some smudged red on it from when he rubbed at his cheek earlier, and he finally flinched when you began running the still wet cloth over the small stains.

"W-WHAT A-A-ARE YOU DOING!?," he finally managed to bark out, instinctively balling his fists against your hold.

"I'm cleaning all the blood off you....And stop that! You're crushing my fingers! Are you trying to hold my hand or something-"

"F-FUCK NO!!" Immediately the grip disappeared and his voiced raised just half a pitch higher. It made you raise your brows and glance at him..before continuing to wipe off his hand. "Y-YOU'RE FUCKING NUTS IF YOU THINK I'D WANT TO DO THAT WITH ANYONE!! LEAST OF ALL PEOPLE YOU!!"

"Goodness. Thank you so much for that reassurance." You rolled your eyes with a deadpanned tone before dropping his hand and holding up both of yours. "And you're all clean. See? It didn't take too long and it didn't harm you at all. Now did it?"

"Dam woman!" He hissed pulling his hand to himself almost defensively. "I swear if you didn't need so much time to heal, I would've just kicked you right o-"

"OK!! I FOUND IT!!" The cheery voice of Eri sing songed her way out as the spider looking demon came bounding out of the door, her box of medicines in hand. "Sorry it took me so long to find it, but I misplaced it, and Lord Kyogai pulled me aside for a progress report. But I found it now so I'll be able to-" She stopped both walking and talking when she saw the small spider family huddled together, as well as Kaigaku still with his back against the tree, and you standing directly in front of him. She stared for a while before speaking again. "Uh..L-Lord Kaigaku! I wasn't expecting you. Um...Did I miss something?"

"Nothing too important," you answered her before Kaigaku could even say something. "In fact you came back right on time."

Kaigaku made to move- "ACK-"

Your hand shot out and grabbed him by the sleeve, yanking him back harder than he expected. "Would you tend to his cheek wound please? I'd rather know he was looked after."

"Um..." She looked between you and Kaigaku's deep scowl for a moment before shaking her head. "Um. Sure. It would be my pleasure."

You weren't sure why Kaigaku stayed still when Eri got that foul smelling green goop of hers out of her box and smeared it all over the cut on Kaigaku's cheek until he looked like he had a green blob just sitting on his face. Maybe he knew you'd fight him until he did get looked after. No matter. You were satisfied knowing that he was at least taken cared of.

"That ought to be enough, but maybe we should have Eri take your temperature. Your face is red-" Your hand barely grazed his forehead before he yanked himself away from all of you and began stomping off towards the mansion again.

"FUCK OFF!! I DON'T NEED YOUR PITY OR ANYONE ELSE'S FOR THAT MATTER!!"

"Gods! A thank you would be nice!", you shouted after his stomping form annoyed. He ignored you of course, and didn't stop even when he disappeared back into the mansion. "What is his problem? Does he just like to annoy people?"

"Lord Kaigaku is....difficult. You shouldn't worry too much over him." Eri shook her head. "But what happened while I was gone?"

"Nothing but Kaigaku being annoying and rude again!"

"Ah...Well anyways since I have my kit here, I can take care of your papercut now."

"Huh? Oh. I forgot about that."

"Yes well-" You didn't fight Eri when she grabbed your hand even though you were still holding the cloth you used to clean off Kaigaku with. But Eri had paused seeing your hand and blinking. "Huh? Hey. Your finger has already been cleaned of blood."

"Oh yeah. It must've happened when I dunked my hand in the stream." Eri rose a brow at you. "It's a long story."

"Well no matter. It'll save me the trouble of cleaning the cut then!" You agreed and watched as she looked when you stuck out your pointer finger and she looked at it...before again frowning. "...Was the cut on your other hand?"

"What? No, it was on this hand. Why?"

"Because there's no cut on this finger."

"What?" You looked to your finger and sure enough, Eri wasn't lying. There was indeed no cut on your finger. Blinking, you immediately held up your other hand and looked on your other pointer finger in case you had somehow remembered wrong and the cut was there instead. But there was no cut on that finger either. "I-...That doesn't make any sense! I had a cut just less than five mintues ago! I could still feel it's sting then!"

Eri, seeming to be at a loss for words, looked between you and your hands before just shrugging. "Well...It was just a tiny measly papercut. It must've healed by itself by now." She let go of your hand with a shrug. "We should just be glad it doesn't require any actual medical attention then!"

You blinked and just stared at your hands. "I...guess."

"Come on. You were in the middle of reading a story right? Let us calm down the children by reading some more. They seem frightened."

You shook your head. "R-Right. By the way, what did Kyogai want to ask you?"

"Oh don't worry about it. Nothing really." She waved you off. "It's not important anyways."

The busy mansion had become less busy now that January and mating season were finally over. Thank the gods. He wasn't sure how much he could take documenting the countless deaths and marriages that happened this year brought. His hands were used to working so it was rare that they would ever get sore or tired, but this year was a good contender for almost making it happen. So for now he could just sit back and relax while he wrote out his monthly report to be sent to the Master. He had to admit, his Master would probably be irked that this report was a little late because of the amount of work dogpiled onto him, but better late than never. The smell of ink was almost drowned out by the sent of cooked chicken and rice that had been presented to him for lunch just a moment ago. Good. He was starting to get pretty hungry. A pair of chopsticks plucked a piece of a plump chicken meat from the bowl-....Before they were immediately placed back down with a sigh.

"I wonder what it is this time."

He heard him before he saw him. The angry stomping that got closer and closer until angry mumbles joined that sound and he could literally count the seconds until it happened- SLAM!!

"KYOGAI!!!"

The sliding door was slammed open and Kyogai sighed as the younger Upper Moon stomped his way inside. He didn't need to look up to find out who exactly it was. He couldn't have knocked?

"Good afternoon, Kaigaku. What is it that bothers you now?"

"WHAT WAS THAT PROGRESS REPORT FROM YOUR HEALER ABOUT THE HUMAN!?," the angry black haired demon demanded before stopping just in front of his desk. Arms crossed and glaring at him. "SHE'S TAKING TOO LONG TO HEAL AND I WANT TO KNOW WHY!!"

"Y/n."

"....What?"

"Her name is Y/n you know. Perhaps you should start calling her by her name instead of simply calling her 'The Human' all the time."

"Whatever! I want to know what's up with her!"

"*sigh* Nothing really. According to Eri, she's healing extremely well. It seems Enmu's medical teas are doing the trick. She's walking but I told Eri to make sure she doesn't try to do anything that'd put strain back on her body until Enmu comes back in a few weeks. But why are you so worried all of a sudden?"

"I'M NOT FUCKING WORRIED ABOUT THE HUMAN!!! I just wanted to know what was taking so long for her heal is all!!"

"Kaigaku, humans and our kind are vastly different. A simple heal for us will take weeks or months for them. We must be patient with our more fragile counterparts. She won't take too longer to heal anyhow. You could learn a thing or two of patience." He paused smelling a rather foul smell. "...What's that smell?" Turning his head, he found the source noticing the green ointment smeared on his face. "Ah. I see you met Eri before coming here-...Why is your face red?" Was he that angry at something?

Kaigaku seemed to fumble for a moment looking almost startled before hissing. "NO!! IM FUCKING FINE!! I JUST NEEDED TO KNOW WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER IS ALL!! ARE YOU SURE SHE'S NOT SICK IN THE HEAD!?"

"She's fine, and she's healing steadily. So there's nothing to stress yourself over about."

"Then why did you want a medical report?"

"To make sure things were fine and they are. And to ask something of Eri."

"What?!"

Instead of answering he just held up the food and of course, the younger demon yanked it out of his grasp. Kaigaku must've been rather hungry from whatever he had been doing because he began scarfing down his dinner almost as soon as he grabbed hold of it. Sigh. Too bad. He was looking forward to that meal. Oh well. He'll just have Mayla bring him an extra big dinner to make up for the lack of a meal.

"Akaza will be coming here in two to three days time to retreive the surviving Spider Family members-" Kaigaku stopped stuffing his face immediately, looking at him, cheeks puffed out full of food and a few pieces of rice sticking to his face. Messy. "-and escort them to Douma's cult." His brow rose as Kaigaku gulped down on said food. "...So I highly suggest being kind to Miss Y/n."

"Bah! Akaza's too soft hearted to weaklings-"

"You mean women and children? If I remember right last time you two met up, you insulted a woman in front of him and he proceeded to 'train' you until your hands couldn't hold your sword anymore." Kaigaku remained silent. "Like I said you best behave." When the other man looked away, Kyogai smiled and turned to finish writing his report.

"Tch! What do you two know anyways! After all, by law she's my fiance."

He stopped in his tracks again before snapping to Kaigaku stuffing his face again. "....Excuse me?"

He huffed smugly and almost proudly as he just continued stuffing his face. "Hmph. She's the one who offered something to me when I asked if she had a dowry, even if she didn't know what the implications were or not, by law that makes us engaged."

"WHAT!?" Kyogai scowled at him almost hissing. "That doesn't apply to this situation!"

"Oh really? How doesn't it?"

"You know how! She won't be here within a few weeks anyways! The Master would want us to fix your problem not add to it!"

"I know that! But it's a fact you should know."

...Kyogai's brow rose higher. Not sure why Kaigaku felt the need to tell him that useless detail, but he would make sure to keep an especially closer eye on him from now on.

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"OW!"

Another papercut was gained to you, but this time on your other hand and just a little while after you had just gotten the last one.

"Hold still so I can bandage it for you. Then you can finish the poem you were reading."

Thank goodness Eri decided to start carrying her medical box again after the small incident.

"Spring is a season that radiates warmth, new beginnings, and positive energy. It denotes a calm and peaceful atmosphere with a clear blue sky. The days are radiant, lovely, and peaceful with a golden sun. When the land wakes up it becomes a good mother to all, delivering food and giving life to the darkness-"

A small white hand reached over into your vision and you smiled looking up at one of the children who pointed a finger at one word written and made some kind of noise in question before looking at you expectantly.

"Oh! Atmosphere? That's just another name for the heavens."

It had been almost two days since Kaigaku's little tantrum and it seemed whatever you said to him made him shut up since you weren't woken up at random times in the middle of the night or kept up or woken up really early in the morning anymore!...Well almost shut up. You still heard him and saw him a few times cursing something or someone out before stomping off in anger. But those incidents only happened in the middle of the day and you weren't always present for them being outside more in the garden away from the inside. So it seemed at least something had gotten through that thick skull of his for once. In the meantime you still joined Eri in the garden and the girls and their mother had shown up again and again. The mother still seemed reluctant to be near you which was probably why she chose to sit near Eri instead but she didn't stop her children from interacting with you, and the children had seemingly grown bolder. Getting close enough to peek at the words inside the pages you held, one even pointing at a word she did not understand and making a sound in question before pointing to another and asking you the same noise. Although none of you noticed the approaching footsteps before they stopped in the doorway curious to what he suddenly saw.

"That's radiant. It's just another way of saying something is wonderful or beautiful or the like." You pointed at her. "Like you." Then at her sister. "And you."

You weren't sure if they could understand you or not but they both smiled at what they interpreted as a compliment and you smiled widely at them. With a smile still on your face you motioned to the book. "Shall I continue reading?" They made a few noises that sounded like a yes to you so you turned back to the book and started to read. "The days of long cold winters sleep has risen to make way to other corners of the lands for his sisters Spring and Summer to come take his place, and embrace us all in the treasures they bring. The strength-....Oh."

"What is it?," Eri asked as you just stared at the page you were on before you flipped a few good pages before stopping.

"That's where all the stories and poems end." You held up the book which still had plenty of pages read, but all of them were blank. "I guess whoever was writing in it didn't get to finish it yet." Come to think of it...Who WAS the one writing this book? The writing was all so detailed and beautifully done, so it was obvious that whoever wrote it was talented..You would ask Kyogai about it later today. "There's nothing else to read yet."

The girls made some kind of disappointed noise that was so like human it literally caught you off guard for a good moment ...before Eri frowned at them and chittered something you couldn't understand but she said, "Don't be like that! She can't help it if the rest wasn't written."

You didn't pay her much mind however. There was something that made you pause and it was the mother demon. She was looking away from all of you back towards the mansion and you wondered why-

"Well what would you say would finish that sentence about strength, Madam Y/n?"

You snapped back to Eri with a blink, not noticing the approaching footsteps stepping a top the soft grass before a voice spoke out to you all.

"Strength!" It made everyone who wasn't looking that direction jump and snap their heads towards the direction to the approaching man. "Mental, physical, emotional, and raw. Strength keeps you going when you feel you can go on no more." He stopped just a few yards away from you all and held up a hand before with a popping of bones it snapped inhumanly fast into a tight fist. "If you're wondering if you're strong, the answer is always yes. Don't underestimate the silent strength that you don't even know you possess."

Your whole group had different reactions. Immediately the two children scurried back to the safety of their mother who just still stared, Eri paled to such extremes that she might've died right then and there, and you just stared at the man before you. He looked...so strange. So unhuman. His skin was almost a perfect white but was tinged grey-green lightly, and he had blue stripe marks all over his body. You could see them all as clear as day in a strange pattern you've never seen before and he too had a long tail swishing behind him like Kaigaku's only thicker and longer similar to an opossum's you've seen in the wild. Like most other demons you've seen he had pointed years that were also blue along with his fingers and toes, but strangely all his nails were a striking red that contrasted with the rest of the colors on his body. But what stood out to you the most was his facial features as they were the most striking. His hair, eyebrows, and (most strangely) his lashes were the most beautiful shade of pink you'd ever seen, but his eyes were what stood out to you most. They were completely light blue with small black veins leading to two gold yellow orbs that had kanji where the pupils should be. You couldn't read them too well from how small they were printed on his face and how far from him you were sitting, but they translated somewhat to 'Upper Three'. Other than his appearance there wasn't anything too odd about him. His clothes were plain. Just a pair of biege-ish pants tied around his waist with a small blue pouch attached to it's side, a dark magenta vest resting over his shoulders, and a pair of beaded anklets settled on his legs. You both continued to stare at one another before you rose a brow and slowly broke the silence.

"That..was a very lovely analogy of the term of strength." You wearily eyed him and the fist still raised but gave a relieved sigh as he gave a small smile and lowered it.

"I thank you," he thanked you back with a small bow of his head smiling wider. "I pride myself on knowing all about strength no matter what definition of it is used, so I am glad someone thinks I do well to know it."

You nodded back to him but rose your brow further. "I hope you don't mind me asking this, but who are you? I've never seen you before and I would've remembered seeing someone with your unique features in the mansion."

He actually chuckled a little bit. "I'll take that as a compliment.'' Pressing a hand to his chest, he bowed from the waist slightly. "I am Akaza, Upper Moon Three of the Twelve Kizuki." You paused. Wait...Did he just say he was- "And you are a human who smells of amaryllis blooms."...Wot- "Those flowers symbolizes strength, although I have only seen them once when my Master was trading botany many years ago. Nonetheless, I find them appealing. You have very wise selections in perfume."

Perfume?....You weren't wearing any perfume. What was he talking about? Before you could say anything there was a sudden movement that startled you, in the form of Eri throwing herself onto the ground in a deep bow.

"L-LORD AKAZA!! F-FORGIVE ME!! I-IF I WOULD'VE KNOWN Y-Y-YOU'D BE COMING TODAY I WOULD'VE GATHERED A LUNCH FROM THE KITCHEN FOR YOU!!," she practically shouted in both fear and nerves and she dug her forehead deep into the grass below. "PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!"

LORD AKAZA!? TWELVE KIZUKI!? Wait a second- Your purple eyes widened before they snapped back to the demon who's smile seemed to gain a little bit of sadness. He was another member of this Twelve Kizuki you kept hearing about!! First Kaigaku and Kyogai, then that Enmu man, and now this man. Akaza he said his name was right? The man hummed almost sadly but approached forward without speaking until he stood before Eri and kneeled down to one knee. You jumped when he held out a hand and slowly lowered it towards her form-

SMACK!!

The spider family froze. Eri jumped but didn't move from her knelt position. And Akaza froze..his hand still held out but was smacked away with enough force to no longer be held over Eri. And he blinked. .....Did you just smack his hand? He turned to you blankly, surprised as you frowned at him. Having quickly rose to your knees and practically leaning over Eri almost as if in a protective stance between her and him.

"Ok! Listen you!" You pointed right at his face making his eyes cross to look at your hand. "I don't care what moon phase you claim to be! I have been both insulted, and scared by two of you already!! And don't get me started on what a pervert that one man came off as! I don't care if you're offended or not!! YOU KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF ERI!!"

There was silence.

You stared at him. He stared at you. The spider family looked on horrified as the only silent witnesses. Before Akaza spoke again.

"I wasn't going to harm her."

"...What?"

"I wasn't going to harm her," he repeated again. He wasn't mad? Raising a brow as if almost offended he'd be accused of something like that. "I'd NEVER harm a woman. Especially one much weaker than myself and unarmed."

"I-" You blinked. "Then what were you-"

"I simply wanted her to stop kneeling before me. She has no need to and I don't want her too." You turned silent when he slowly turned back to Eri whome remained still. "Eri is it now? Kyogai has mentioned you as a healer correct? Can you please do a request for me?"

"O-Of course!" You yelped back as Eri suddenly sat up immediately with a strained smile on her face. Boy she was fast. "W-What ever my lords need, I'll be s-s-sure to deliver!"

Akaza smiled happily at her. "That's wonderful! I thank you for your assistance. I heard you are a healer, so I don't suppose you will look over the dear woman and her children before I take them away from here would you?"

She immediately nodded. "Of course, My Lord! I can do that easily!"

"Then it's settled! Oh! That reminds me.'' You could only watch as he stood back up and went for the pouch on his side. "I brought this for the little ones!" You both could only watch dumbfounded as the man turned and ...WALKED ON HIS KNEES!? Over to the small spider family whom was still frozen scared maybe, and leaned forward in a...bow. And chittered away something to the mother-

"Eri."

"Ah!" Said demon jumped when you spoke. "In gods name, Miss Y/n. PLEASE don't do that when I'm anxious."

You ignored her nodded to the strange new man whom by now had held out the small pouch to her in offering. "What is he saying to them?"

"Isn't is obvious?" ...You deadpanned looked to her. "...Oh. Right. Can't speak our tongue. *ahem* He's greeting her and explaining why he's here. He's also giving a gift of konpeito candy. I told you he is very kind to women and children."

You opened your mouth-

CRUNCH!!

You were both interrupted by the sounds of teeth crunching hard candy in their mouths and the sounds of Akaza clapping happily at the small girls who were happily raiding the small bag he had gifted them. Their mother chittering something with a worried look.

"Do not worry," Akaza assured her, "I did not get a lot, and the travel to your new home with burn off any sugar they consume. However I want to get you all a good meal before we leave. You'll need the strength for the long journey, especially your beautiful little ones. I shall bring some out to you all...And while I shall be inside..." There was a popping of bones as his hands dug into fists on his legs and a small vein appeared on his head as he turned to you and Eri, despite his sweet smile and calm tone not changing. "I believe you mentioned before some of my fellow ranks being cruel to you, causing you to lash out at me earlier. I apologize on their behalf. Would they happen to be the two that's currently inside?"

You blinked. "You mean Kyogai and Kaigaku? Oh no. Not Kyogai!" You explained holding up your hands. "He's been nothing but polite and kind to everyone I've seen, including myself. Kaigaku however has been rather rude." You frowned, still remembering how rude he's been. "He's very difficult like a spoiled child."

....He inhaled and let out a sweet chuckle. "That sounds like him alright. But I'm sure he'll cause you no more problems! He's a quick learner despite his temper. ....Excuse me, Ladies." He slowly stood before bowing to all of you still smiling. "I shall return with some food shortly. After they have eaten and have been looked over I'll take them. Please pardon me."

With a quick turn of his heel, Akaza quickly spun around and quite stiffly, began walking back towards the mansion in long strides, his fists still balled at his sides.

"Oh no."

"Oh no?" You snapped back to Eri. "Oh no?" You repeated raising a brow at Eri. "What do you mean 'Uh oh'?"

"Well...I think you might've doomed Lord Kaigaku." She guiltily looked at you as you froze.

"Eri. What do you mean?"

"W-Well...Remember when I said Lord Akaza was v-very gentle to women and children? He hates men who're rude or otherwise to them, which...Lord Kaigaku is. Everyone knows the two of them don't exactly get along well, and by you mentioning your frustrations with him...You kinda set him up for Lord Akaza to..fight him."

You froze for a moment. Her words slowly sinking into your mind. And only one word escaping your mouth.

"CRAP!!"

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