#last guy she loved died in front of her at the drop of a hat she is allowed some insecurity because THEY STILL LIVE IN A WARZONE

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Cracked Armor (Short) (Extended War Timeline)

(A/N: This devolved into Saphira and Glen quietly squeeing to each other while Eragon and Arya have a camaraderie moment completely oblivious to the possible deeper meaning of Eragon being so understanding of Arya's connection to Fäolin and Arya being so touched by it. It started out as a touching piece where Arya feels vulnerable about Fäolin and Eragon is, as said before, very understanding of it, but I had to run an errand in the middle and we ended up with this badly toned, no one is consistent with previous characterization slop. So take it with a grain of salt.

Also, if you ask Arya if she's superstitious, she'll say no. However, she finds many things the Varden soldiers do to honor their fallen friends a good way to respect the memory of the dead, so she follows some of their traditions. She also wears Fäolin's dogtags on her belt, muffled by magic ofc so they don't jangle around.)

CRACKED ARMOR

Glen looked over when Arya let out a soft curse. “Ah, damn it all.” The familiar sound of an armor release clip clicked into the still dust laden air as the younger elf undid the fastenings at her right forearm. “Fucking Wardbreakers. I can’t fix this out here.” 

The dismay in her tone was enough that Glen leaned over his battlemate’s shoulder to take a look at the damage. The bracer was dented in significantly, enough that a dark bruise was already blossoming up on Arya’s forearm as she lifted the sleeve of her combat suit to check for any bleeding. Cracks shot out from the divot in the mix of spidersilk and aramid weave, all the way down to the interior layers. The thin sheaf of spongy aerated gel peeked through in places, a shimmering, foamy white among blued steel and matte black.

Mentally mapping out the angle of impact, Glenwing racked his brain. He was sure at some point he had–

“Ah!” The medic looked down. A blob of malformed metal was embedded in the abdominal region of his own armor plates. “Was wondering where that ricochet came from.” 

“Are you alright?” That she had asked him was telling, at least in their odd little language. The round must have stung on impact, enough that she was worried it had not slowed enough to prevent him from being harmed. He would have to look at her arm, but for now he was pleased she was moving it without any wincing or restricted range of motion. 

Having made his own assessment, Glen waved away Arya’s increasingly troubled frown. “Barely felt it. Looks like your armor’s the most damaged of all of us.”

Frown eased, the disappointed air returned to Arya’s face. “Yeah. Better the armor than any of us, but…” She trailed off, fingers tracing the damage. 

“You two okay?” Eragon was tugging off his helmet as he approached. He had caught the concern in the voices of his companions and, leaving Saphira in Blödhgarm’s capable hands to finish up the final nicks and scrapes, went to investigate. “Sounds a bit depressed over here.”

Arya held up the damaged bracer. “We took a casualty.” Eragon took the armor piece and let out a low whistle. “Don’t know who the hell fired it, but it was definitely a Wardbreaker.” Her expression soured further, eyes oddly soft despite the obvious annoyance. “I can’t repair it out here. Rhunön’s the only one who can fix something this broken, and who knows when we’ll go back.” 

Eragon passed the bracer back. “You have spares, don’t you?”

The elf shrugged. “For this one in particular, yeah. I guess it’s lucky in that regard.” 

“Oh.” Glen’s voice was muffled as he slid his chestpiece over his head. Once free he gave his currently wild silver mane a good shake to clear his eyes and tilted his head in condolences. “It’s that one.” 

At Eragon’s raised eyebrow, Arya rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s…a good luck charm. It’s not my original bracer.” Glen rolled his eyes and not-too-subtly kicked the side of his battlemate’s foot. “Fine! Fine. It’s Fäolin’s.” An unexpected blush met Eragon’s gaze when he flicked his eyes from the damaged armor back to Arya’s face. “Some…old tradition a buddy of mine taught me. Even if our dead stay dead, they can protect us in a way. I might have taken that literally.” 

To the elf’s surprise, Eragon was smiling at her when she finally looked up. A genuine, gentle smile that lit his face. Shit, why did he suddenly look so much like Fäolin in that moment? Not really, not his appearance, but the feeling he was giving off, that warmth? 

“That’s a wonderful idea.” The Rider touched Arya’s shoulder. “I know I’m not much on the whole repair side of things, but if Rhunön made it, then perhaps her spells from forging Bris–my sword. From forging it could help?” 

Glen didn’t move. This was a moment. Don’t breathe, don’t move, let them have it. He could feel Saphira’s mind hovering at the edge of his, questioning, and he let her in to explain and show what exactly was going on. The pleased amusement that radiated into his thoughts echoed his own, though far less tense in anticipation. 

…These two dorks were fast becoming a fascination for the dragon and medic alike.

“Thank you.” Arya’s hand covered Eragon’s at her shoulder, genuine appreciation thickening her words with emotion. “That…that you offered means a lot. But Rhunön’s armor spells are different from her weapon spells.” 

Ah! Glen could see another hint of blush on both of them now. He shared his internal excitement with Saphira. The equivalent of a draconic high five buffeted his mental form in equal elation.  

“I see. Well, if you do want some help with it, just let me or Saphira know.” Eragon shifted his grip and gave Arya’s hand a quick squeeze before pulling back. “I think Rhunön did pack me some aramid repair tape when she was going through Saphira’s saddlebags. Would that help?”

“Immensely. Thank you!” The gentle squeeze was returned and just like that, the two separated. 

Glen hastily busied himself with unlatching the hidden clasps at his left bicep, a grunt of dismissal all Eragon got for a goodbye. The difficulty wasn’t entirely false, the armor never having been altered to fit over his prosthetic properly, and it provided the perfect cover to hide his smile.

A bit too tight still. Damn it. Okay, now he actually couldn’t–

“Oh, come here.” Arya reached up and seized a handful of his combat suit, giving the stretchy material a firm yank. Glen hit his knees with a whuff of surprise, eye to eye with his friend and giving her a sheepish grin. “If I get you out of this without taking your arm off, then will you tell me what the hell that weird look you were giving me and Eragon was?”

“What look?” He may have sounded the picture of innocence, but the open handed cuff to the side of his head made clear that his face was betraying him yet again. “It was nothing! I just hadn’t realized that you and Eragon had talked so much about Fäolin.” 

Arya rolled her eyes and, with practiced ease, teased the stubborn clip open with a satisfying clatter. “Uh huh. You looked like you had eaten some fermented mango again.” 

“I did not!” A teasing smile had started at the edge of Arya’s lips, her fingers finding the next clasp in the system out of pure habit. At the positive sign Glen lowered his voice. “Okay. I really didn’t know how you two were getting along. Neither of you mention it, but the Bloodoath is almost two years past now. You both seem…better. Even better than before.” 

A softness flitted across his battlemate’s eyes as she lifted away the medic’s bracer. “He’s really grown up. Saphira too. They’ve both matured a lot.”

“Yeah.” 

The silence between them grew until Arya had finally shimmied the armored glove off Glen’s prosthetic. She regarded the final piece with a thoughtful look before turning back to her bestest of friends and, as gently as gently got with Arya, whapped him on the side of the head with it. 

“Stop being so weird about me and Eragon, weirdo! We’re friends! Stop making it weird!”

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

CoD!Widow AUs make me cry and I love it

Like imagine being married to Price, and he dies in action.

The guys only find out he's married because as they are waiting for evac, they know he won't make it. The silence is thick as he goes into his chest pocket and pulls out a polaroid of his wife that he's kept hidden for for the past two years. It's a picture of them eloping at the courthouse, posed in front of the courthouse steps. She's got on a short white wedding dress, and he's dipping her back in a classic romantic kiss.

The next polaroid he shows them with shaky hands is of her and a little baby boy, and he has their captain's eyes and her smile and a head full of curls. John tells them they named him John Jr., but he's affectionately called JoJo.

John tells them that he was going to invite them all home for the leave after this mission, the Wife's been begging to meet them all says, "Who are you to deprive JoJo of his uncle's? They can keep their mouths shut about us." But now he's sad because he's dying, and he should have listened to her, and he won't get to see either his wife or JoJo meet his boys for the first time.

John makes Simon, Kyle, and Johnny swear on taking care of his wife and son. He was all they had. He wants them to hug her tight, always send her flowers, she likes pink garden roses the most, but is just as happy with any flower. He tells them that her favorite holiday is Christmas, and since JoJo was born, John has always dressed up as Santa so the boy could sneak downstairs and 'catch him' setting out presents. They are a colored lights on the tree and stockings above the fireplace kind of family, hot cocoa with whipped cream with sprinkles, not marshmallows type of family. Snow days spent making snow angels and snowmen type of family.

In the end, he just tells them to make sure his little family knows he loves them and let his wife know he wasn't alone when he took his last breath. That was always her biggest fear, him dying in the field alone.

It's actually Kyle that is able to bring himself to knock on the red front door to the sweet little country side house. The home is perfect it looks like it is big enough for a family of at least five. There's an apple tree out front, the grass is manicured, and there are well-kept and well loved flower boxes on the windows.

Kyle feels sick to his stomach, and he doesn't want to be holding his Captain’s hat, dog tags, and under it, the British flag. He's the one that does it because Johnny can't form words because he spent the previous night crying so badly he lost his voice, and Simon has been at his worst with shutting down, he hasn't even taken off the gloves and mask he was wearing since they still had Captain’s blood and scent on them, Kyle suspects he's still in shock. Kyle is the only one even halfway put together out of three to speak with their Captain’s Widow.

The front door opens, and it's her. She's wearing a pink apron, a smudge of cake batter on her cheek, and on her hip is Jojo. Kyle could have choked and died when he noticed the small bump in her middle. It's clear that Captain didn't know, or else he would have said something about this, too.

Her eyes are bright for a second as she swings open the front door, "Finally he lets you off base" She goes to laugh but that sound dies in her throat when she sees what he's holding. Kyle watches as the light dims in her eyes and her smile slowly drops.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Price." Is all he's saying before she's wailing in heartache.

Part 2

[muichiroslover]

HEY!!

I saw you made a part two on the meliodas angst.

I was wondering if you could make a part two of that ban angst where ban runs into y/n years later. Cuz she survived the demon by jumping into a deep body of water somehow and washed up somewhere.

I just think its would be pretty cool 😅

Oooo yes! I changed up the story a little if you don’t mind! I hope you enjoy this!

Part 1 here!

Pairing: Ban x fem! reader (pt 2)

Warnings: none!

Genre: Angst

_______________________________________________

Meliodas sits at the bar as Ban cooks up some food for when the boar hat opens

“Hey Ban have you heard about that masked hero going around?” Meliodas asks as he gets himself a cup of beer

Ban turns around placing down a simple breakfast plate

“I’ve heard of them” he says shrugging and the door opens to show a excited Diane

“Are you guys talking about the masked hero?? I heard that she’s actually a girl!” She says excited as she sits close to Ban and Meli

“Oh yeah? I wanna meet this Masked hero, after all with her around she’s been taking all of our work” Meliodas says cheerfully

“Eh she doesn’t sound that interesting” Ban says dismissively and Diane rolls her eyes at that

Finally when the team had all arrived they were just chatting when all of a sudden their were booms and explosions, they all got up with haste

“That’s our call” Merlin says

“Please stay safe Ban” Elaine says and he nods

they all begin to leave the boars hat, they quickly follow the sound of the noises and screams

But by the time they had gotten there they were surprised to see a person fighting the last demon, a mask covering their lower face and a hood over them that pulled down to a cloak

“Is that-“ King begins surprised as the person finishes off the last demon and the people cheer and praise them

“That fighting style looks familiar, though I can’t quite put my finger on it” Merlin says putting a finger to her chin in thinking

“Well let’s not let her get away! I wanna ask her some questions!” Meliodas says excitedly as he starts walking towards the person

“Captain!” Diane shouts following after him and King sighs as he follows and so does the rest of the team

The person was adjusting their mask and putting their weapon away getting ready to leave until

“Hey! Masked hero, nice to meet cha! I’m meliodas!” A voice suddenly says next to them, they slowly look to the side and down at the little man who was grinning widely at them

The team soon gets closer as well causing the person to back up

“We won’t hurt you, our captain here is just too curious” King sighs as he sits up criss crossed on his floating pillow

The person still didn’t make a move to get closer or speak as she basically glared at the group in front of them

“Is it just me or is she glaring at us” King sweat drops and Gowther nods

“She is in fact glaring at us, after all we left her to die” he says and the whole team looks at him confused

That’s when Merlins eyes widened

“Y/n?” She asks and it falls silent as the masked person makes a ‘tch’ sound, slowly they remove their hood and pull down their mask

Your eyes looked tired and dead and your face void of emotion, you had a scar that took up most of your right cheek now and your hair was slightly disheveled

Everyones eyes widen upon seeing you and your new appearance

“W-we thought you died” Diane says, tears starting to form in her eyes and you stare blankly at them

Flashback

As the demon grabbed you you believed this was the end and that your life would end here because of your stupid love for a guy who never loved you

you thought you could accept that

you were wrong, you used the wine bottle you were drinking and broke it, you stabbed it into the demons hand that was gripping you and it let you go dropping you to the floor in pain

You got up quickly, limping a bit and started running as fast as you could, the demon didn’t stay still for long as it chased you, you started running towards the boars hat, but you suddenly stopped

It’s not like they were looking for you, in fact the one you thought you could trust the most left you for dead, you grit your teeth, running back to the place you dropped your weapon you find it and pick it up, you skillfully kill the demon and drop to the ground

You were in a lot of pain, the injuries were brutal, usually Merlin would heal you right up but now

You shakily get up

You limp around and end up leaving the town, you go to a town a few towns away and end up collapsing, when you wake up you slowly sit up to look around the infirmary type room, the door opens and a guy looks up and smiles

“You’re awake, I was afraid that you would be asleep for a day or two” he says and you get on guard, he noticed this and smiles kindly

“Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, I saw you collapsed and wanted to help, you can leave if you want but don’t push yourself too hard with those injuries” he says and you furrow your brows slightly as you slowly slip out of the bed

You keep an eye on the doctor who was fixing the bed you left and sighed when you realized he truly had no bad intentions

“Uh..thanks” you mutter and he turns around and lightly smiles

“You’re welcome”

It was like that for the rest of the months you were missing, you’d go out and fight demons then come back to Dr. Ealis’ office

“Jeez Y/n, this time is really bad” He says as he mixes potions together, you groan “Sorry Ea, they were tougher then I thought” you say as he sighs and hands you the light blue potion

“It’s fine, just don’t be too reckless” He reprimands and you roll your eyes as you chug the potion

Ealis also was the one who gave you the mask and cloak, he’s the only person you felt you could truly trust in this world

Flashback over

The team stand guiltily silent as you stared at them blankly

“That’s how I survived being left behind by my ex boyfriend Ban for his ex girlfriend Elaine” you deadpan looking directly at Ban who looks away from you

“We’re so sorry Y/n...” Merlin says not knowing how else to respond to this, Ban was biting his tongue to stay quiet, this hurt for some reason

You sighed as you pull back on your mask and pull your hood up

“I don’t care anymore, I’m fine as I am now and don’t need to rely on this team” you say

“Don’t say that! Please come back!” Diane cries and you close your eyes

“I’ll pass, I escaped death once, I won’t put myself in the position to have to escape it again, goodbye” you say and before they could say anything you were already off, they stood in shock and guilt

Ban covered his face as he sunk to the floor, a tear slipping out

“This is my fault, I’m sorry y/n”

[tumblingdowntheway2019]

I was thinking a couple of days ago, Lady Dimitriscu has no problem picking up people due to her height and strength. So here is how I'd imagine each character would react to being picked up. Consider this a wholesome head canon for Mama/Big Sister Lady Dimitriscu! 🤗

The Dimitriscu Daughters -

Honestly, she has no problem on how they get carried around. Being a mother to three (3) daughters taught her that they all have their own traits and personalities, but the one thing that always makes her heart swell with joy is seeing her little insects happy. Here's how they typically get carried around.

Bela Dimitriscu -

Being the oldest of the three (3) daughters, she usually has to make sure she sets an example for her other sisters. Seeing as how Bela tries her best to make her mother happy, nothing beats ending the day than a simple piggyback ride. She gets so tired, it doesn't surprise Lady Dimitriscu that her eldest just falls asleep like that.

Cassandra Dimitriscu -

Ahhh the middle child of the Dimitriscu Family. She is a bit more childish than Bela, however she can sometimes be found being carried around like a doll at times.

One moment, she'll be resting on her mother's hip, another time can be a piggyback ride, and nine (9) times out of ten (10), she'll be held at the tucked under her mother's arm at the waist. She'll just hang there pretty casually.

All depends what mood she is in.

Daniela Dimitriscu -

You really never know with this hyperactive woman. She'll ask her mother to flex her arm, before suddenly grabbing onto it so she could hang there. Sometimes Fireman's carry.

Another time she was spotted being held by the ankles, upside down at her mother's back because she was acting like a bat. (Much to her mother's and sister's amusement.)

Another time, Daniela asked her mother to flex, she sat on Lady Dimitriscu's arm just to take her hat before pointing at what direction they should go. Mimicking her mother is a common thing to see here.

All three (3) Daughters at once -

Lady Dimitriscu never complained about carrying them around the castle. Her daughters are happy and that's all she ever asks for. Even if they all swarm her at once and form back last second to do so.

Oh how the Mighty Dragon loves her Trio of Bats.

____________________________

Salvatore Moreau -

This guy is just happy for some interaction with someone. But he is always anxious about it.

His excitement can occasionally cause him to throw up, but thankfully he warns her in time before doing so, so no accidents yet.

His back being sensitive means that the most comfortable way of being carried around is either by piggyback, or being held from under his arms.

Moreau rarely gets carried, he does mainly on his good days, but he generously returns the offer when the Dimitriscu Family are in the reservoir by pulling along a boat for them or using his mutated form as a means of having some fun swimming with the family.

____________________________

Karl Heisenberg -

Scruff of the neck, no hesitation or questions about it. Whenever Lady Dimitriscu and Heisenberg get into an argument, she would just pick him up by the back of his shirt and lift him up to eye level.

Doesn't stop him arguing back, however. A quick turn of her wrist and he would have his back to her. Or just so she can grab his belt and throw him somewhere. Hammer and all!

On a good day however, Lady Dimitriscu would carry him from under his arms and help him reach for something, he doesn't complain much about it really. He acts like a little pup at times if grabbed from the scruff of his neck.

Heisenberg occasionally gets carried around, but more so in arguments than anything else.

____________________________

Angie Beneviento -

Another Daniela actually. Angie would use her small size to sneak up to the tall lady and climb up her dress.

Aim of the game, make it to the hat. It is usually all for naught however, as Lady Dimitriscu always nabs her before she even reached her shoulders. She should really try and giggle discreetly.

The Doll would often team up with one of the Dimitriscu Daughters for a surprise attack on The Dragon Mother.

Other days, she would openly be seen sitting and dangling her legs from Lady Dimitriscu's shoulder. Occasionally whispering in her ear or saying what Donna needed and wanted to say.

Lady Dimitriscu will ALWAYS know when the little doll is hiding under her hat and peaking out from under it. Angie had never lost her hat yet when doing this, so why stop it? Beside, she has plenty more where that came from.

____________________________

Donna Beneviento -

This one was a work in progress really. The poor Dollmaker has Agoraphobia, the fear of leaving her safe space (her home) and the anxiety to go with it. It took Lady Dimitriscu a good while just to have her come over and visit the castle. Never forced, just extending the invitation every once in a while. Happiness swelled within Lady Dimitriscu when the Dollmaker finally gave a nod to accept.

Donna had often seen Lady Dimitriscu carry around her daughters in the castle. The Lady of the Castle was so different from the stern and strong woman she had often seen in meetings and debates. In front of her was a mother who has no hesitation to instantly drop the act in a heartbeat and be with her Little Bats.

It made Donna sad really. She barely remembered the times she was carried around by her parents and sister. Ever since they died, all her time was in isolation with her dolls.

Then one day, Lady Dimitriscu noticed Donna in the library, having some difficulty reaching a book she spotted and no Angie in sight. Donna accepted her help but was too nervous to speak to the older woman.

"May I just lift you up so you can take the book you want?" Lady Dimitriscu patiently asked with a soft smile, her usual pose more relaxed yet elegant as always.

She can see Donna's nervousness from under the veil, before the Dollmaker hesitantly lifts her arms up. And gently she was lifted to grab that book on herbal medicines and local flowers, before Lady Dimitriscu sets her down again. Before she leaves, Lady Dimitriscu felt a tug at her dress, turning to see Donna reach up again.

"You wished to be carried?" She asked, chuckling.

Donna almost regretted asking when she saw the tall woman chuckle. Embarrassed, she was going to dismiss the idea before suddenly she was swooped up onto the taller woman's shoulder, Donna clinging onto her head in surprise. The older woman chuckled before assuring her that it was ok. It is what family does after all.

She then comforts and assures the now crying Donna that it was true. She was crying from happiness.

Now, Donna is like another Bela, either on Lady Dimitriscu's shoulder or a piggyback. Most days, when they are alone and at Donna's own pace, she can be seen without the veil and occasionally with Lady Dimitriscu's hat on in it's stead.

And they have conversations too, not always long, never forced, used to be one-sided with silent answers. But how delighted she was and proud when she finally heard Donna quietly say, "thank you."

____________________________

And there you have it. Donna's ended up being more of a little story but I felt it necessary to explain how it comes about.

And that's my Head Canon for Lady Dimitriscu carrying her family around. Hope you enjoyed it. 💕🤗💕

If you wish to use these ideas then feel free to do so. All I ask is to be tagged and credited for the idea.

Hope you all have a great day! 💪😎💕

[britishsass]

I just remembered an old au from pre-PN2 that I drew-- I called it Adult Swap.

I have old notes about them, but nothing here is new. So here goes. My past notes from pre-PN2.

What I've got is that Fred and Sasha swap, Milla and Gloria swap, and then the last four just get shuffled around. Edgar is the coach who teaches basic training, Boyd does like every job and no one questions it, Morry is the guy outside of TT guarding it, and Ford is trying to get over past trauma on his own.

Here's a bit of discussion about the folks from WR in this au, though!

-All four are getting treatment for their problems.  -Also they're all dating in a big poly relationship.. because I can ship what I want.

FRED

is a friendly guy, but he can be rather intimidating thanks to his height (he's a tower in his own right) and he kinda vibes w/ David from Camp Camp. You know, overly friendly, naive, but a nice chap.

He still has the stupid hat. it's a gift from an old camper and he's not taking it off.

jack of all trades, master of none, but he really doesn't like to harm others if he can help it.

mostly uses telekinesis to catch things he drops or to catch himself when he trips

if he had to choose favorite campers, he'd say Dogen and Milka

His mind still has a portrait of Napoleon. He doesn't like to talk about it. Ever.

He comes across as a bit nervous, but he has good reason since he's almost died more than the others due to his unyielding stupidity loyalty to those he cares about.

GLORIA

Hair is a lot more swoopy, she's a lot more bright and kind, but she still falls into depressive states that take a while to get her out of it.

She's the second most grounded of the quartet, which is funny, since she's a levitation specialist.

She really wants to help Crystal and Clem, and knows what they're planning. She specifically takes care about them, and offers them more help.

Her mind is still a stage, with more of a backstage now.

Does plays with her students sometimes, doing her best to involve all of them, and she loves the campers a lot, though it hurts when she sees herself in them.

She calls them all her little starlets

She's the best at pulling Edgar back from one of his states, though Fred is a close second thanks to his nursing training.

EDGAR

He's called the coach, but he's really just a friendly fellow who wants to keep up with the students.

He teaches basic braining, and it's basically black velvetopia with a lot less bull, literally. The dogs are still there, they can fight other figments of his memory, but usually it's a very kind place, with people always willing to point the way for a bit of help.

If he had to choose favorites, he'd say Misha and JT, but he doesn't like to choose favorites.

He still paints, and decorates the whole camp for holidays. Any holidays.

He also has a bullfighting cape in his mindscape, and he loves it.

He does not do what Morry does. I don't know the plot of this au but none of these four are going to harm their partners and that is final.

Specializes in psy-blasts, but he prefers to leave teaching that to others, as he has issues with getting his emotions back under control.

He's the best at talking to Napoleon in a way he understands, and also he can give a very, very rough translation of the french from his knowledge of Spanish, so he tends to have to help when Fred gets into a rough situation where Napoleon has to front for him.

He helps with Gloria's plays behind the scenes, and does a lot of repair work with Boyd too.

BOYD

He does about 15 bajillion jobs around Camp Whispering Rock

I'd be lying if I didn't say his specialty was pyrokinesis

His favorites are his fellow pyrokinetics.

If he gets startled, he will almost always light something on fire as a reaction.

He doesn't have dark circles under his eyes because he can sleep now!!

Boyd's head is still a twisting, turning, mess... But it's fractured into fragments, thanks to everything that happened on one of their missions. (Remember: I made this pre-PN2.)

Boyd is the best when Fred is out of commission, and he does his best as a sort of second-in-command at camp, even though he's a bit messy and almost always has a few burn marks on his clothes, hats, or nearby tools.

Now for the folks from this version of Thorney Towers!

Out of these four, you'd usually see them in the order of Morry, Milla, Sasha, Ford. Crispin and Loboto still have the exact same roles and personalities because I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else having to take Crispin's place, and Loboto is perfect for his role. Here are some notes about them in general before I again ramble: -It mostly goes off of the same problems that they have in-game, just brought to much worse conclusions thanks to Shaky Claim being awful. -You get the straitjacket from Sasha, metal tongs from Ford, and a picture of Loboto from Milla for the disguise. -Sasha and Milla are still in love. Because I ship 'em. Shh.

SASHA

His glasses were broken ages ago, making it hard for him to see

He used to be a psychiatrist who used puzzles as his personal favorite thing to do. However, when he left Crispin alone with his puzzles, Crispin, being the worst, stole one piece from each puzzle, destroying it.

He stares at the sky a lot.

Very dull colors

His mind is full of puzzles and trying to put the right pieces together, having to do things in the correct order to push giant pieces into place to continue.

He keeps lashing out at others, but it's mostly because he can't see much, feel much, or do much since he's trapped in a straitjacket and in his own mind.

shoes and his childhood trauma do occur a lot

Crispin makes fun of him for being a doctor and yet being the most broken now

none of his shoes (the two on his shoulders or those on his feet) match.

MILLA

She basically broke after what happened at the orphanage.

Lots of fire, lots of panic, lots of nightmares to fight

There are what seem to be ghosts of children walking around, running around, laughing and playing

Her hair hasn't been taken care of in ages

Her clothes are still burned, and she refuses to give up on seeing her children around. Raz helps her to return to reality, and she and Sasha hold hands at the end, burying her face in his shoulder when Morry burns it all down.

her picture is something she believes to be from her children before she comes to her senses

Music is playing throughout, and playing it helps her to return to her senses. maybe an emphasis on violin/nero playing violin while rome burns?

MORRY

Fam, we all know what happened to him.

his getting close to the rabbit. him being rejected over and over. its all a comedy of errors and it drove him mad in canon, in this au it just didn't get helped either.

he sees raz as a bunny and tries to help him, but refuses to let him in because that's where he thinks the butcher is

it's a lot like basic braining is in canon tbh

lots of things seem weird, and there's an inner soldier that's hidden deep, deep inside, behind a fight against the butcher. it's hard, but it does help him in the end. soldier is his milkman tbh

there are a lot more rabbits in his mind, trying to lead you astray from the right path.

FORD (Please remember, pre-PN2!)

Yet again, we know what happened. the psychic duel

In this it's just a physical fight that still nearly killed him and nearly ruined his entire life.

this time it's full on DID instead of just different roles at camp

The different parts of his mind have keys to other parts, and it's a maze of doors and the like

He's trying to make the perfect burger, just stuck trying over and over as each personality argues how to do it until it's burned again.

He hands over the spatula once he does it, and he just sits on the edge, eating the burger, wondering why any of them stay in Thorney Towers

The plot would not include any of them being actually bad people. It would likely be that there’s bad guys actually trying to use these kids, but they don’t know them that well. And so they hire Loboto to take the kids’ brains, and accidentally involve some pretty heavy issues. Though it might be that Crispin’s part of the final boss fight, idk. That whole plot thing is still super up-for-debate, y’know. If anyone has any thoughts or ideas about them, feel free to ask me stuff!

[kermitbread]

hear me out—no, you will listen to me. sit down there and listen very carefully

I will bestow you a cat returns au... in the form of a list of erratic thoughts I've been having since 10pm last night I think I've gone batshit insane

part one of idk because I have too much going on in my brain to put it in a single list so here part two will be out maybe tomorrow

okay, so we have nene as our lovely protagonist

she thinks of herself as unassuming, just an ordinary girl

her best friend is mei and they're both in the same class together

nene has a crush on this one popular guy at their class but she's too shy to confess (even with mei's constant encouragement)

she doesn't really count on something utterly bizzare to happen to her while walking back home from school

while talking to mei, carrying the shovel she had borrowed from a neighbor to return

she spotted an orange cat run from a convenience store

now what was strange about this was that the cat was carrying a small white box wrapped in a red ribbon in it's mouth

nene questioned this, while mei didn't really see it as a big deal

the cat suddenly began to cross the road, not realizing the huge truck coming it's way

the driver won't be able to see a small cat like him, nene thought

she ran off, surprising mei as she approached the cat, who had froze in place upon seeing the incoming truck

she swung the shovel, scooping up the cat and flinging it to the bushes

she also luckily managed to step aside quickly enough to avoid getting run over by the truck

unfortunately she had dropped the shovel and the truck wheels snapped it's wooden handle into pieces

how was she going to explain that to her neighbor now?

she turned to the cat, and she couldn't believe her eyes

it was standing on its hind legs, dusting itself off like a human would

and it talked. it fucking talked

it thanked her for her kindness, and promised to reward her soon enough before picking the box back up and leaving

she could only sit there, dumbfounded, as mei ran up to her, yelling in concern

she regained her senses though, and continued back home without any more scuffle

"must have been my imagination. I'll just go to bed and forget all about this."

oh you were so wrong nene so so wrong

next thing she knows a parade of cats walking like humans stopped in front of her house

a cat in robes and spectacles introduced her to the supposed king of the cats

they had apparently wanted to thank her for rescuing the king's only son

a very frightening old man—erm, cat, sat in a portable throne, only addressing her through short sentences

and a brown spotted cat declared about the rewards she was going to be having tomorrow

nene didn't know why or how she was acting calm throughout the whole thing

but the next morning was chaos

cattails overgrew in the front of her house, catnip placed in her skirt pocket that attracted a lot of neighborhood cats, and bugs and rats in her locker

what kind of horrific rewards were these?! they were only things cats would enjoy!

even worse, she saw her crush hanging out with another girl, supposedly his girlfriend

as she wallows in her sorrow, the brown spotted cat from last night had visited her at school

she doesn't really pay attention as he tells her if she didn't like their first wave of gifts, she can get married to their prince

yeah. maybe marrying a cat prince would be good. cats had it easy, and she wouldn't have to worry anymore. no one would be bothered by her ever again.

wait.

the brown spotted cat took her mumbling to herself a yes, and before she could even properly tell him her refusal, he had already left

oh great. now she was going to get married to a cat. A fucking cat.

whatever will she do?

a girl's voice spoke to her, although she couldn't see where it was coming from

the voice told her to find the cat bureau, by finding the black cat that would lead her to it

ultimately, upon walking from school, she spots a black cat snoozing on an outdoor cafe's chair

she felt like an idiot, asking a cat, but she did it anyway

"are... you the black cat that I'm supposed to find?"

no answer. it was hopeless, anyway

"ah, what am I doing. you're just a stupid cat anyway. And I'm stupid for even doing this."

but the black cat suddenly meowed at her before she could leave, looking back at her with glowing yellow eyes

and it didn't look like it appreciated her stupid cat comment

it then tilted it's head, signalling her to follow it

nene had to go through literal ups and downs before she reached a quiet, peaceful spot she had never seen before

it looked like a miniature town, nifty looking houses built next to each other circling a fountain with a statue of a giant crow on the center

the black cat she had followed was now sitting on a chair in front of a bigger, white house, reading a newspaper like it was nobody's business

was this the place? she was about to ask when the sun had began to set, and lights began to shine from the houses

it was beautiful until the black cat interrupted

"oh come on, amane. no one wants to see your cheesy light shows."

the lights immediately died out, and before she knew it, the door of the white house opened, warm yellow light shining from the inside

one step. another one.

nene found herself staring down at another identical black cat, only this time... in a white suit?

he was definitely a cat, alright, but he had the proper proportions of a human

he tilted his hat at her, smiling

"welcome to the cat bureau, darling. we've been expecting you."

oh. so much charisma

[jovnie]

The king's arrogance | Namjoon

Summary

The King had knowledge on everything and one in his castle, however he knew nothing of the kingdom he ruled before him. That was till one day he left and found you a street merchant.

Words 5k

Namjoon king au! Reader civilian!

Warnings: fluff, cocky joon, medium amount of smut, mentions of parent death, creampie, oral ( female ), big-dick Joon, nonconsensual touches, creampie, rough sex, lot of plot. Very quick relationship.

I beg that you listen to The mary go round from the moving castle [ slowed ] when reading. I think you'll enjoy it even more with it in the background.

Namjoon sat on the throne, laid back and legs spread apart as a servant read him his to-do list for today.

"Well sir, today starts the month planning of the ball. We have a few colors I'm sure you'll enjoy, however, I'm sorry to inform you that the family members that shouldn't be named threatened third way onto the guest list" the man spoke in fear, nodding and sighing namjoon dismissed the servant with talks of the guest later.

"Mrs. Pot is the tea almost ready?" He asked kindly as the elder Korean lady nodded with a bright smile. Smiling softly, the older lady pinched his cheeks softly.

"I still remember when you were a baby and your late parents running you from tea session to tea session. Oh, how I'm sure you miss them as much as I " her smile faded, as she poured the tea on the table in front of him.

"I do, it's been 18 years now. Since I was 10 I believe, so right 18 years. I'm sure they would've loved to taste this freshly poured tea once again" he reassured, rubbing her back and once done taking a sip with her.

"I'll make sure to clean the alter table later and pour some tea with them" she smiled delicately, as took a drink of her tea.

That was right this year would make it the 18th anniversary of his parent's passing ever since the flood. It was heartbreaking, as his eyes dimmed in sadness the older lady pinched his cheek as he smiled with a tear down his cheek.

"Now don't go soft on me Namjoon, you have to stay strong for those who can't and I know it all hurts. But they'll be watching you like garden spirits. I know your mother is very proud and your father knowing how much a man and a king you have become. Now I have to go, it's time for me to go tend the gardens. Goodbye joonie" she waved, after collecting the empty teacups snd pots. Watching her wheel everything away, namjoon felt comforted by her words and took a deep breath before getting up and moving on with his day.

He spent the day testing and looking at fabrics, color swatches, and paper samples. The ball, gala, or celebration was very important for the kingdom. They only three one when it was important and this time it was a celebration of life once lived aka his parent's death date. September 4th. This day celebrated life and death, just like fall. He loved the metaphor behind it and hated how true love ended so quickly in his eyes. However he too wishes to be able to die with the one he loved dearly by his side, he hated how romantic it sounded and how bad he wanted it. Love wasn't an easy game and not once could he find someone who commented with him in a deep, if not spiritual way.

Itching the back of his head, he walked on and into his room. He had another busy schedule ahead of him. Sometimes he just wished he could live amongst the people for a day. That's what he'll do. Looking around for his leather satchel, he put together what he called a commoners bag. A bag that contained money, an id, and a diary. Looking around for clothes that seemed passable for a commoner and changed into them. From there he grabbed his stuff and snuck his way out of the Castle through the bag. He made sure Mrs. Pot knew where he was just in case this would get him in trouble. After all, the family would show up unexpectedly most of the time and he had people watch his every move as well.

Making sure his hat covered all of his hair, he walked into the street lights and found a carriage ride who was going home or into the city. He paid the guy and let him into the buggy and the city.

Namjoon did this for a weak till he knew the ropes of running out of the kingdom St night, he tried his best to avoid getting caught with the knight guards and the pesticide workers who showed nd yelled deals in his face. He also learned patience along with that, another valuable lesson needed as a king or so he was taught.

One night he went into a low-lit bar with entertainers. Majory we're female and drove the men in the room wild. He's had his fee share of women, but not when it came to this level. He found it charming and often sent gifts to them for their hard work. From the kingdom's guards and not him personally. Still, he ordered rice wine snd some jerky, before leaving. leaving a lady much shorter than him, bumped into his shoulder.

"Guards there's the thrift!" A younger woman pointed, as the men ran after her. Wanting to know what was up, he walked up to the merchant and simply asked. You explained that the woman was a theft, they would steal all her family food at night to make their profit.

"I'm sure you can be more um what are these?" He asked, picking up the food he's never seen before.

"Fruit?" You questioned grabbing the lemon out of his hand. "Well shops closed sir, come back tomorrow and you can buy our lovely fruit," you said kindly, walking up the stairs in this wooden place. Following you, namjoon closed the door behind and also walked up. Namjoon didn't know much manners, but he had the basics for a king. However, to a common person like you, he was a pest, rude, etc.

"Um, what are you doing?" you asked folding sheets for your bed up.

"It's nighttime aren't you gonna ask me to stay and wait till morning?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I supposed. By the way, there's a futon bed over there. I'll make dinner soon then!" you welcomed, as namjoon looked ok confusion at what the blanket on the floor was trying to imitate. Taking off his shoes, he placed his bag on the 'futon' and hung his jacket and hat on the hanger by the door.

Arriving back you blushed hard, as a beautiful looking man was now clear in your view. Luckily for namjoon, you had no money to spend on papers like everyone else or let alone money to go to the balls either. Therefore you had no clue that this man was a noble, let alone the king. If you did you would've just died at how you just treated him.

"It's beef and seaweed soup, with carrots and onions" you listed off as you placed the bowl on the floor diner table. Placing a spoon and a napkin on the side, you forgot the drink. Walking away you grabbed him a cup and poured lemonade in, before walking back. On your arrival, you saw him going to town on the meal. He slurped and moaned as he complimented your cooking. Chuckling, you sat the glass of lemonade down and took the napkin to wipe his chin and cheek. Placing it down, you watched him continue and enjoy it. Although there was only enough for his, you still had something to eat. You simply had bread and butter with some lemonade as well.

It took him a bit to notice you didn't have a bowl which made him feel a bit guilty but instead handed her 30 ₩ which was a lot during that time. Not wanting to take it, he "accidentally " dropped it down your bra and smiled.

"Well it's late, we should sleep and then go out to shop for food and new clothes" the man spoke.

"I'm sorry but I don't know you, how do I not know you're not trying to kidnap me or steal or worse kill me!" You mentioned as the older man stripped off his shirt.

"You don't have to, just know ill help you and accept the gift" he spoke, pitting his clothes beside him.

"Excuse you, you don't come in someone's house and act like this. Do you even have manners?" You added in frustration.

"I paid you, it wasn't a gift. It was a payment and I can tell you've never gotten one" he snickered, laying on the futon snd taking your cover. Annoyed at the man, you crossed your arm as he mouth "you have a problem?"

"Yes, I do! What's your name to begin with?" You asked, laughing it off he closed his eyes.

"Surprised you don't know and it'll stay like that for a bit darling" he whispered, moving over he patted next to him. "Sleep with me"

"No! I don't sleep with strangers like that, unlike you I have honor " you mentioned, getting up to go change into something appropriate for bed. Once done, you came back and he was still in the same position as before.

"I think I demanded that. besides I can ruin this little shop of yours if you don't. " he threatened, looking at his nails snd then at her. Well dressed and groomed man, you could visibly see the power he likely had. This was your mother's business and you promised her you would take care of it. Saddened you laid down next to him and whispered "please don't, this is all I have left."

"So we're on the same page I believe, no?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Yes," he replied. She felt uncomfortable and annoyed at the fact she had to do this for a business. Let alone a man, then again the men weren't always so kind to the women here, most always. She sighed and just accepted it, as he covered the two up.

"Call me Joon, " be whispered in your ear. Nodding, his hands traveled up and down your wist. Coughing, he halted then stopped after finding a comfy place to lay his hand.

"Do you do this with every woman?" You asked, curious.

"Well the last time I had a woman in my arms, she tried to advance me in marriage" he mentioned, putting his neck in-between your shoulder and neck.

"I do however have experience If that's what your aim is?" He said softly.

"Not really, I mean if a stranger just threatened your job and made you do this. Along with inappropriate touching for people who just met, I'd believe you'd be the class below poverty. Not a king not noble" you told, unexpectedly holding his arm between your breast.

Noticing, namjoon's cheeks flushed red. Luckily the lantern. Was behind him and not in front, so she couldn't see. "Toché" he replied.

"However I can see you've had a bad experience with men hmm?" He asked, softly brushing his nose on her neck.

"So you're not around here I see, well yes every guy here is just shit. Rude snd ignorant as you" you huffed, as raised an eyebrow.

"I'll give you that, feminist huh. Cute, haven't met one till you" he smiled, intrigued. "It seems like I've violated it huh, touching you snd acting sloppy" he added, moving your hair out your face.

"Glad you noticed, now turn the candle out!" you demanded, closing your eyes. Doing just that, he then wrapped his leg around you snd kissed your cheek.

"Good night"

Morning came, as the two of you laid there comfortable in each other's embrace. With him being the first to wake up, he tapped your shoulder and you woke up soonly after him. Yawing and stretching, you made sure your hand hit him on purpose.

"Sorry," you said coy, as he rolled his eyes up and shrugged it off.

"So when's breakfast?" He asked, getting up as you realized he had just worn cotton briefs. One's that we're expensive and that added more mystery to him. Why was someone who could've been from a noble family be here and threatened for his stay? Then the thought of maybe it's all stolen.

"The time?" He asked waving his hands over your face as you realized you had zoned out.

"Sorry, we have to go get food and we can buy food at the square." You mentioned.

"Where's the bathroom?" He asked, you pointed to the medium-sized room across from him. The place was small and combined, so you could see the kitchen from the bed area and a mini living room. Nodding off he grabbed his clothes snd began using the pump to pump water into the bath.

"Don't use all the water!" You yelled.

"I can and make you join me" he yelled back, smirking.

"No ill make you get more water from the lake behind here" you replied, itching your hair.

"Don't you have to get more water anyways, less work" he mentioned, leaving the door open and sitting in the tub? This man was quite weird when it came to flirting, it somewhat seemed motherly and innocent. However on the other hand, overly sexual and mysterious.

"Fine" you huffed, striping and walking towards the tub. That's when that harsh look he had softened and turned into a stare. There you were in front of him, naked snd he took every moment to vies your body. He saw how thick your hair was and how curvy your body was. He liked that, he paid attention to how big your breast was and the fact it looked like you haven't trimmed in a week. Which meant you looked old enough for him to do special things with.

"How old are you?" he questioned.

"I love how you did all of this without asking' she rolled her eyes, trying to muster a pony 0tail with the length and thickness of her hair.

"Turning 20 next month!" she replied excitedly.

"28 next month as well" he replied, breathing out the air he had subconsciously kept in. Getting in, she sat in front of him, covering her chest with her knees.

"I can still see you!" he laughed, grabbing the soap from the tray. Washing his body first, he took his hands and spread her legs open and washed below and around her arms and chest.

"Open," he said, waiting. Opening your arms you rolled your eyes and he splashed you with water. "Manners young lady " he mentioned. Knowing he's right, you sighed. Your father once told you the same when he was alive and because of that "Joon" reminded you of your father a bit. He acted mature and young simultaneously.

Washing your arms and your thighs, you washed off the soap on his neck and took the plug out to drain the dirty water. Placing the soap down, he spread his legs open and you accidentally saw something you shouldn't have. Frightened and embraced, you blushed. Taking his hand and pushing your gaze to meet his. He smiled softly.

"It's fine, just don't get too threatened by it. I'm aware of the size," he mentioned, looking you in your eyes. Nodding, you this time pumped the water until it was all out. Cleaning the both of you, you couldn't help but feel shy snd flustered. He felt the same, only he knew how to hide it. But not everything he knew or wanted to hide.

He looked in your eyes, noticing a soft dismal look on you to which he replied with "tell me are you okay?" Thankful for the concern, you told him about your parents passing and the shop's importance to you was. He understood automatically and exchanged his parent's passing in less detail. He didn't think he'd meet with someone with such a familiar background as his, even if they were below Noble.

He took her hand and placed it on her chest. "They're here, I'm sure your mother would be proud of how you came out to be. So leave it at that" he smiles wildly, with his eyes closing shut a bit as he did. You were glad to hear that and he never thought that Mrs.pot's comfort would come in handy, but he's glad to say and share a similar message.

"Speaking of do you have an altar?" He asked gently, unplugging the water and helping you stand up. Nodding you pointed out the door to a small corner. He thanked you and grabbed both of you a towel. Getting dried and dressed you did your hair as he went over to pay the slightest respects. Smiling at how kind the gesture was, you walked over to the rack and tripped over your foot trying to hand him his stuff. You saw a journal fall out and your eyes met his.

"You're a journalist?" You questioned, fixing your dress and hair before getting up and handing his stuff.

"Yeah, not from here tho," he lied, dusting dirt from your shoulder. Nodding you both made your way down the stairs, as he took your hand. Noticing it, you smiled. You wondered why he was being nice to you all of the sudden, however, that all changed when a guard walked past by and he brought you to a kiss. Confused and his eyes waiting for them to go, you kissed back hesitantly. Letting go, you looked at him worried he shrugged it off and you walked him to the square.

Hand in Hand, you brought namjoon to the bakery. Looking around, he pointed out the most expensive bread on hand and paid. Thanking him, he leads your hand to the vendors outside. Lucky for you, he knew about gardening and what was good. He helped and taught you the basics snd you learned you've been scammed for years. Thanking him, you took him to a cart of flowers and smelled the fresh roses, looking up at him. He paid for the golden yellow rose bouquet. Now it was for his favorite part of the day, clothes shopping. But beforehand, he pulled you into a cafe.

"Two bags of your finest coffee," namjoon ordered, by now you shouldn't have been shocked at how much he could spend. But seeing him use more money than you've sent your entire life was a sight to see snd each time you were thankful. You had enough food and supplies to last week if not a month. Holding you close by him, you realized you warmed up to him and small gestures like that felt comforting to you. He noticed and did it more often.

Soon it was night and there was only, one dress store open. In there was a beige dress that sparkled in the shop's lights. Running to the window to look, you smiled. Feeling a hand on your back, he took a step in and pulled your hand in with him.

"Welcome to Gezels tailor and shop" the owner greeted. He was an older man with gray hair a fragile smile.

"Well take that dress in the window snd tailor it to her size. His much is it?" Namjoon asked, pulling his wallet for the last time today.

"₩ 10,000" the man spoke, paying upfront the older man invited you to the back room and told namjoon to stay upfront. Nodding, you walked ahead and namjoon sat in the chair. He had a diary to write about today's and yesterday's adventures. He started up about the bathtub time you shared snd imagined your body once again. If only he knew his to draw, he'd paint a pretty picture in the book. Soon after finishing his entry, you walked out with a note.

Note: the dress will be ready for you miss before dusk, come back tomorrow with your lover -Gezel tailor and shop

You handed it to namjoon and he read it, as the two walked out. Suddenly loud commotions of horses snd guards ran through the city with lights.

"The king's missing!" The horseman yelled into the square. Namjoon in a panic rushed you two into the forest nearby. Confused, but following him. You wondered if he had something to do with it, besides this wasn't the first time he ran away from the guards today.

"They can't find me or ill be in trouble, act like a lover, please. I'll pay you in gold when I can" he begged on his knees with his hat on his chest.

"Don't pay me, think of it as a token of my gratitude. I'll help, but you have to explain everything when we get back," you murmured, taking his hands and helping him out the dirt. Making you drop the food and his bag.

Suddenly, he gripped your body and jumped both of you in a lake as he heard the sounds of horses clamping. A sound you didn't even hear. Holding your head under the water, he waited for the light of the torch to leave the lake area before swimming the two of you up.

Taking deep breaths of air, the two of you swam to the doc snd he helped you up first before himself. Luckily, the food wasn't damaged. Frustrated, you grabbed the food and his bag as you walked home. Walking in, you kept the lights off snd went to the second floor.

Stripping you of your clothes snd placing the bags down, you watched him do the same. Forgetting you had to pump the water, he suggested he'd go do it and you nodded giving him directions snd within 30minutes he was done. Striping once again, he hugged your body to his chest. You soon felt tears on your neck and small crys, you rubbed his back snd just stood there till he let go.

"What's wrong?'" You asked concerned.

"I could've killed you!" he cried, remembering the look his mother gave him before dying in his arm. His father did the same thing to his mother, only on a ship in the middle of the sea. Hugging him, you rubbed his back and placed a kiss on his lips. Holding you to his chest, kissed you back, and laid back so your bare body laid on his.

"Let's wait to shower" he suggested, kissing your neck. Nodding your head no, he flipped you over on your stomach softly and trapped your legs with his. "Please?' He asked, leaning down on your level on the floor snd holding your chest in his hand. Agreeing, knowing what's about to happen you loosened up snd he turned you on your back.

His hands ran around your chest and thighs, leaning down to kiss your naked body as a slight moan came out. From there, he moved his lips to your mouth and softly moved yours to his hair. Taking note, you ran his fingers through his dark brown ones as the two of you danced with each other's tongue. Namjoon removed his lips snd traveled down south, gripping his hair in pleasure you moaned grinding your hips. Meanwhile, he took in a natural aroma, one he found arousing. Moving his tongue around the bud, he softly kissed your thighs leaving bruises.

Looking at your head tilting back snd eyes closed with heavy to light breathing. He took his pointer finger snd rubed softly in circles, moving his body to tower you with one arm. Noticing the shift of best around your neck, you felt his warm breath move down your neck and by your ear.

"Let me tell you something darling, I'm not who I say I am" he kissed around your neck, papering it in kisses. Hearing you moan, made him aroused by the minute. However he knew it was time to go back to the castle, only he wasn't going empty-handed. As your hands rubbed his back, he whispered "I'm Namjoon, they're looking for me, darling. Tonight the last night I can spend here so let's make it count" in a raspy tone.

In shock, he gave you a minute to calm down as he could hear your heart. "I'm sorry" he apologized.

"No need, but for whatever this may be for you. Just know I haven't done anything like this with anyone," you admitted. Humming he moved to the other ear and whispered "I like that, just know it will hurt after a few minutes snd then feel better or the pain could feel good!" he warned. Taking his warning, he gently rubed you as got on his knees and opened your legs wide. Watching as he did, you noticed he was fully erected at this point and ready. You closed your eyes snd tensed your muscles as he began to simply grind his tip into you.

He was right there was pain, which caused you to bleed a bit. However, it was enjoyable without a doubt. Soon he was able to put 6/9 inches in as he trusted slowly. Moaning under him, he moved his in circles biting his lower lip as looked at your fuller lips and leaned over and wrapped your legs around his waist. After a few moments of waiting for you to adjust, you thought about today snd how it was so obvious he was the king snd yet it flee by.

As you moaned loud, his thrusts began to speed up snd the two of you could hear the sounds of his hips banging into yours snd your ass as he went faster.

"Ah, baby!" He grunted, grinding into you deeply as your hands rubed into his hair. Morning louder, his lips conceded back to yours as you held on snd then to your neck where you heard his heavy breathing. Your body was tightening around him, as he went in deeper now putting himself in. Not to mention you began to pool around him which gave him more speed in the end.

"Namjoon!" You moaned in his ear, holding his back tightly as your legs unwrapped snd opened wider for him. Cursing under his breath, he went harder as you began to arch your bag in pleasure. He held onto your back as your head went backs and the build of pleasure built up quickly.

you held onto his muscular shoulders while he moved you closer to him to go deeper. With that sending you over the edge, you screamed his name in pleasure as yours and his breathing began to match in heaviness. Shopping for a second, namjoon looked you in your eyes and thrust slowly as he was too close and it felt too good.

"In close, but I don't wanna cum yet" he grunted, thrusting deeply in and out.

"Then cum when you can't hold it!" You urged, outta breathe enjoying the depends. "I'm fine with children" you explained. Nodding, he continued and went harder this time.

His mouth roamed your chest, sucking and pulling on the bud as your back arched and mouth open in response. You this time, grinded back cgroundhim to jolt forward and start panting.

"Fuck don't do that unless you-" you interrupted doing it again. Pushing your legs back and open wide he started hammering into you as you began screaming in both pleasure and slight pain. You scratched his back and he immediately let go of your thighs snd pushed your hands back. As your body began to shake under him, he went faster as his chest heaved in breathing and yours became flushed with red. He started to let his enjoyment show more and tilted his head back with his eyes close as he went faster. He allowed the sounds of your whimpering snd moans to fulfill his urge as his balls smack your body hard causing a loud moan to come out from him.

Moving his hips to go at a slightly different angle than before, he noticed you started dripping more and more causing your heat to became more and more pleasurable on his end. He leaned down to your chest and held you as he began moaning in ecstasy as a thick load covered your walls in white.

Stoping and catching his breath, he mouthed something so simple but daring and that was simple.

"Don't leave me"

To which you replied softly. "I won't"

Soon the both of you gained the energy to get in the tub. There you two conversate on what it was like for him to be the king and all, what he planned on doing, and where he wanted to do next.

"Please come back to the castle with me tonight?" He begged, holding his hands with yours.

" I don't wanna be a drag" you looked down.

"You won't, I promise you'll enjoy your new life" he stated happily as ever.

"Namjoon don't you think it's too fast, we just met and all." You mentioned.

"Right, that is an undeniable truth. However, I know you felt the same way I did snd I know this isn't a fairy tale. But I truly feel like we could have a life" he spoke, holding your hands to his chest. Yes, that was true, you did believe in fate snd everything. But this was soon and so much.

"I'll go, but you have to let me have the ability to leave, " you said sadly, bring you to his chest he nodded and turned your body around in the tub.

From there you two did what was needed and packed a small bag of hygiene snd the coffee from earlier to go. You two had to walk back to the castle without being seen or heard at all. Which called for a few close times of being caught, from there he showed you a secrete gate entrance that led straight towards his room. From there, he tried his best to pick you up and take you to his room. there which Mrs. Pot sat praying

"I'm home and I brought a guest" he mentioned putting you down. As she recognized Mrs. Pot, she immediately went to hug her.

"It's been a while, my dear, I remember when you were both sized. I see you ran into the king, ah I knew he would've found you. I mean he's always had an eye on elegance and beauty" she mentioned embracing you tightly and pinching her cheek the same way she did with namjoon.

"I'll tell the guards your home" she looked at namjoon winking. Itching his head as he smiled, he turned to you and stripped naked again.

This time he leaned on the top of you again and you immediately kissed back. "It's a yes" you knew immediately as he took off your clothes once again that same night. Only this time, he focused on filling you up till he couldn't anymore.

"Fuck, this is amazing" he cursed, moving his hips harder as you who was behind sensitive began moaning his name louder and louder. Your legs opened wider and pools of arousal soaked the bed, making him lose control once more in you before pulling you close and moaning in your neck. Spilling once more, he simply uttered

"I love you"

"I love you too"

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

unfair, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, ft. yoongi

summary: Min Yoongi lived a simple life, alone in his apartment with his dog, Holly. Then he (and his dick) noticed his next-door neighbor. And her boyfriend. But nothing was going to come out of that. They weren’t trying to seduce him... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (jk/you); pining/slow burn; overheard smut; smut (fem reader, threesome, m and f-receiving oral); lil fluff; starts off with Yoongi’s POV, then changes to yours when it gets... fun. ;)

--

Min Yoongi had a problem. A problem most men probably had, but not a problem he was used to. He wasn’t a thirsty kind of guy. For most of his life, he really didn’t care about sexual shit. He had fallen in love, sure, but that was the gradual feeling, the kind that grew slowly but surely, and ultimately burned out when the girls would basically tell him he was boring as fuck. Which he knew he wasn’t. He was just… really garbage at being romantic.

Of course, he was older now, so he had some idea of romance and showing affection, not for his sake but for the sake of loving someone. Even if he was bad at it, the whole point was to try. To be honest, he hadn’t actually put that theory into practice yet, but that was what he had concluded after his last break-up. But now he had a problem.

It was not fucking fair how fucking hot his next-door neighbor was.

It just wasn’t. To whatever higher power was up there, what the actual fuck? Why do this to him, Min Yoongi, of all people? He was a kind boy. A good soul. He didn’t need to step out of his apartment to walk his dog Holly to see his next-door neighbor in a sports bra and leggings wiping her brow with a towel after her morning run. A little sweaty, cheeks flushed, skin glistening. Holy fuck. To top off that banging body, she looked up at him and gave him a confident smile and a polite nod before going into her apartment. Not even embarrassed.

Fuck. Now he had to walk his dog with a hard-on. Great.

To make it even worse, he was pretty sure she was taken. A guy would come around and they would leave together, probably to go on dates. Usually he was in sweats and a bucket hat but this time Yoongi saw him in slacks and a dress shirt.

And, oh, holy hell.

Of course, the guy was fucking handsome as fuck. Nice broad shoulders and muscular arms. Cute face with a mischievous smile and nose scrunch when he laughed. A sweet, tiny mole underneath his lower lip and another on his cheek. Neat black hair swept to one side, begging to have hands running through those strands. Round, brown doe eyes. Thighs could probably crush him and Yoongi would be happy about it. And then she came out of her apartment in her tight black dress and heels, sliding into the guy’s arms so easily and giving him a kiss. The dress showed off her nice round ass and juicy, squeezable thighs.

It was all fucking terrible for Yoongi.

“Ooh, you’re looking pretty for me today, love.”

“Wow, Jungkook, contain yourself for one second so we can at least eat first.”

“I’m ready to eat something, that’s for sure.”

He was not creeping; he was collecting a package outside his door. That was it. He was not the least bit interested in what was going on next to him.

Holly raced out of his apartment, his tiny fluffy brown butt bouncing as he rushed to the people, barking excitedly. Yoongi nearly dropped his package in surprise, shoving it under his arm and rushing over.

“Holly, no! I’m so sorry–”

The guy, Jungkook, laughed as he crouched down, barking back at Holly playfully.

“Aren’t you cute? What’s your name, little one?”

His next-door neighbor smiled at him. Yoongi was ready to crawl into a hole in embarrassment. Not only was he looking frumpy as fuck in a stained white t-shirt and black sweats, but he was also struggling to wrangle Holly with a large box under his arm. To top it off, Jungkook was not making it any easier by chasing Holly around. Yoongi’s black hair was messy and unbrushed, long enough to almost cover his eyes. He was basically a hobo compared to these two.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, he’s a bit–”

“It’s okay.”

He froze up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

“What’s your dog’s name?”

He swallowed. “H-Holly.” Oh shit. He accidentally looked at her chest. Why did she have such pretty collarbones? She seemed not to notice. Instead she looked over to Jungkook who was wrestling with Holly on the floor and rubbing his belly.

“He’s really cute,” she said with a smile. “You don’t mind if Jungkook plays with him a little, do you?”

“N-no,” Yoongi mumbled, biting his lip. She had plump, shapely lips stained red.

She held her hand out. “I only moved in last month.” He placed her hand in hers. She had a nice, firm handshake. She was telling him her name and he was imagining her hand wrapped around his cock. He needed to get a grip.

“Min Yoongi,” he said robotically. What are social skills? Yoongi didn’t remember any of them at the moment.

“That’s Jeon Jungkook,” she was saying, pointing to the young man on the floor. Holly was licking his hands excitedly. Yoongi noticed a small heart tattooed onto Jungkook’s right hand. Fuck. He had nice hands too. His cock was waking up. Oh fuck.

“Come on, Holly, we have to go now.”

“Aww,” Jungkook whined. Why the fuck was this guy so fucking cute? Please have mercy. Jungkook waved to Holly with a smile. “See you later, Holly!”

Yoongi bowed awkwardly and scurried back into his apartment, Holly bounding in behind him as he shut the door. He barely even squeaked out a goodbye. He didn’t have a chance because – yup, now he had a giant boner.

Holly wagged his tail and barked up at Yoongi, who sighed and shook his head.

-

His brother asked to take Holly for a while. It was fine with Yoongi; his older brother was going camping with his wife and Holly loved being outdoors. Actually, he invited Yoongi, but Yoongi knew he wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of guy and suggested Holly to go instead. Holly loved Yoongi’s brother – maybe even more than Yoongi himself, the traitor. To be honest, if his brother decided to have kids soon, Yoongi had always said it would be a good idea for Holly to grow up with them. Dogs were an essential part of childhood, after all.

That’s why Yoongi was sitting alone in his apartment, reading, with no dog noises around him to distract him. It was nice, quiet, and serene.

Or it would be, if it wasn’t for his next-door neighbor literally fucking up a storm.

Instead, Yoongi was seething at the shared wall next to him as he was very clearly hearing someone getting banged. Which was fine, because people were allowed to do what they wanted. Yoongi didn’t care. Except he did kind of care, because he was absolutely sure it was Jungkook fucking the daylights out of his hot-as-fuck next door neighbor. It was also upsetting because his dick was suddenly awake and saying hello as if he had been called to attention.

But, nope, it was just Yoongi sitting alone glaring at the wall that separated him and giving the two of them a piece of his mind.

Or his meat.

He frowned and made a face. He didn’t have thoughts like that. No, not him, Min Yoongi. He was pure, he definitely did not have any naughty thoughts, nope, not a single o–

A particularly lustful moan of Jungkook’s name cut though his thoughts.

Was he sitting at the chair closest to the wall? Maybe. Well, he was. Could he just move to his kitchen and not hear anything? Yes. Was he going to move?

No.

What number was this anyway? Did Jungkook have the stamina of a horse or something? Not that Yoongi cared, mind you. He certainly did not. It was interesting to think about, that’s all. And then he heard something he thought he would never, ever hear.

“Oh, fuck, Yoooongi!”

Um, what? Did he hear that correctly? Yoongi sat up, raising an eyebrow at the wall. It must have been his imagination, surely, because the sound of skin on skin was not stopping. There was no way she had said the wrong name by accident, right? And Jungkook wouldn’t just let her blurt some other guy’s name out for no reason, right?

He glared at the wall suspiciously, as if it could answer.

Eventually the sounds died down, which was a relief. Hours went by and all Yoongi could think about was her saying his name. There was no way she accidentally said his name while getting fucked by Jungkook. Making that kind of mistake was unforgivable. He ended up ordering take out because to be honest he couldn’t really concentrate on cooking. Yoongi frowned as his doorbell pinged, walking to the door automatically. He must have manifested his thoughts or something like that. He placed his hand on the knob and opened it. It was his imagination, surely–

“Hey, did you order delivery? The person accidentally dropped it off at our door.”

Yoongi almost fell over.

His next-door neighbor blinked at him as he struggled to find his words. She was wearing a big baggy white t-shirt that clung to her body. No pants. The bag was in front of her chest. He could barely see the light pink of her panties.

“Ah, it wasn’t the other door. Is it his?”

Jungkook bounded over, black hair messy, his doe-like eyes wide with curiosity. Grey t-shirt, gray sweatpants. Tattoos going up his right arm. Yoongi nearly had a heart attack seeing his muscular arms.

“Uh, ah–yes, it’s mine, sorry–”

She smiled and held it out to him.

“Here you go.”

His eyes almost bulged out of his head – she wasn’t wearing a bra, holy shit – and he nearly dropped the bag if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s quick reflexes placing his hand at the bottom of the bag.

“Whoa, careful there.”

Thankfully his arm was now blocking her tits so Yoongi snatched the bag and bowed profusely, mumbling apologies.

“Sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no problem,” she said brightly. “Enjoy your meal.”

She waved and Yoongi finally looked up, seeing her body turned away from him. Oh, whew. Then he looked up to their faces.

And found both of them smirking at him before they went back into her apartment.

-

“They’re fucking with me, Hoseok!”

“Calm down, hyung. I think you’re thinking about it too much.”

That’s what his best friend Jung Hoseok told him over dinner. Yoongi was having none of it.

“How can I be over-thinking it when they’re smirking at me at my front door?”

Hoseok winced. “I don’t know, maybe you imagined it. Why would your next-door neighbor and her boyfriend do something like that?”

“I don’t know, it’s not bad, it’s just–”

“Wait, you like it?”

“… I didn’t–”

Hoseok had burst out laughing like a lunatic.

The laughter rang in Yoongi’s ears as he stood at his front door, silently fuming. He shouldn’t have told Hoseok. But who was he supposed to tell? He wasn’t that close with many of his friends, after all. And Hoseok didn’t end up being mean about it in the end. Yoongi rubbed his forehead, shoving his hair under his black cap. Ah, it was probably just an empty hope after all. He was over-thinking it. Only an absolute loon would think that his next-door neighbor and her boyfriend wanted to have a threesome with him.

“Yoongi?”

He jumped, jerking away from his door suddenly. She stared at him, lip quivering, a worried look on her face. Cropped pink sweatshirt and leggings. Whew, at least she was clothed.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. Is this a bad time?”

“I wasn’t scared,” he said automatically. “Only surprised.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, what was it?”

“Oh, I just…” She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, fluffing her hair. Fuck. Stop being cute. “I don’t mean to pry, but I haven’t seen you walk Holly lately. I was wondering if he was okay?”

Oh. Right. His dog. “Ah, Holly is with my brother right now. He’s fine. We sort of have shared custody of him since we all grew up together,” Yoongi added with an awkward smile. Ack. Social skills, what even are they?

“Oh, that’s a relief!” She placed a hand on her chest and smiled. “I’m sorry if I was being too nosy.”

He waved a hand. “It’s okay. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Who wouldn’t notice? You always looked so happy walking him.” He was pretty sure his heart was going to burst if she kept smiling at him like that. “You’re so cute when you smile.”

“Ah…” Hang on, what? His cheeks began to warm.

“You must love dogs.”

Right. His dog. He chuckled. “I don’t usually, but somehow Holly made his way into my heart.”

She looked rueful. “I’m jealous of him.”

What?

“It must be difficult to win your heart.”

Was she… flirting with him?

She smiled innocently at him but those eyes were giving him a different story. The mischievous sparkle made his response die in his throat. He stared at her for a good minute.

“What… about Jungkook?”

“What about me?”

Yoongi felt his entire body freeze. He was caught. Shit, shit, shit.

Jungkook brushed past him ever-so-slightly, hand lingering on Yoongi’s jacket-covered arm before he hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead. She smiled up at him. Jungkook grinned at her and turned back to Yoongi with a bright bunny-like smile.

“Hey.”

Yoongi looked away quickly, realizing he was observing much too closely. “Er, hello.”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

He swallowed and looked up, raising his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Her lips curved into a sly smile.

“If you’re ever feeling up to it, we would love you to come over sometime.”

Jungkook grinned. “Any time!”

Oh, fuck. Jungkook’s hands were on her waist, sliding down slowly. Tongue in his teeth as she leaned against his chest with that foxy smile. Yoongi opened his mouth, but the only sound he made was an awkward croak. He coughed and looked away.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Yoongi hastily fumbled with the door lock and ran into his apartment, praying that neither of them could see his blushing face and his massive hard-on.

-

“They said you could come over any time. You are not crazy. You are just being nice.”

Yoongi stood in front of his next door-neighbor’s door like a zombie, clutching one bottle of red wine and a bottle of whiskey for dear life. He had contemplated his outfit three times before deciding that a long-sleeved white shirt, black jeans, and ripped gray denim jacket was not trying too hard. But just to be sure, he wore his nicer black boxer briefs and not the ones with holes in them.

Just…

In case.

“They don’t want to fuck you. They’re being nice.”

The door suddenly opened.

Yoongi’s eyes went wide. He sputtered. “A-ah!”

Oh my god.

Was it even possible for a woman to be this pretty? Decked in a floaty, red dress with a delicate bow around her neck and fluffy white slippers, his next-door neighbor seemed surprised to see him. The fabric floated down and clung to her curves, dipping inward in between her legs. Her eyebrows raised in surprise and her plump lips curved into a small ‘o’.

“Yoongi! I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes! Jungkook told me he just arrived.”

“I’m here, darling.”

Jungkook’s deep voice purred behind Yoongi. The older man nearly jumped and turned to see Jungkook right behind him – how long had he been there? Black t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black sneakers.  Jungkook’s lips curved into a mischievous smile and he leaned over Yoongi, his chest brushing against Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi felt his heartbeat skyrocket at the sudden closeness until he realized Jungkook was kissing his girlfriend on the forehead, patting her head gently.

“Fancy for a just watching a movie,” Jungkook teased. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I just bought this dress! I can wear whatever I want.”

“Yes, you can, and you look cute in it too.”

Yoongi would have been paying attention except he suddenly felt Jungkook’s hand against his back, sliding slightly downwards. He froze, breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t that he was starved for intimacy or anything. Okay, maybe he was a little bit, but, shit, what was he supposed to do with two very obviously hot as fuck people were seducing him? Ignore it?

No, he most certainly was not.

Yoongi stumbled, nerves rattling him. He felt strong arms hold him straight.

“Oh, sorry, did you trip?” Jungkook asked, worry laced in his voice.

“Ack, where are my manners? Come in, come in.”

He felt Jungkook push him lightly. Yoongi swallowed and stepped inside the apartment, still clutching the two bottles of alcohol for dear life. He was afraid that if he let go, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from… uh. Things. Breathe deep, Min Yoongi. You are not fifteen.

“These… are for you.”

He held out the two bottles to her. She tilted her head as she read the labels, taking them from him. It took all of Yoongi’s power not to grab her tits.

“Oh, thank you! Look, Jungkook, he bought red wine, your favorite!”

Jungkook bounded past him excitedly and took the bottle from her. “Ah, yesss! All for me!”

Yoongi blinked. “You don’t drink?”

She tapped the whiskey bottle. “I do. Just not wine.”

-

Watching a movie? Yeah, right.

How was Yoongi supposed to watch anything at all? One look at Jungkook in his loose black t-shirt and, fuck,  he was reminded the guy’s entire right arm was tattooed. Holy shit. And her? Wrapped so nicely in floaty red fabric with that bow around her neck. It meant the dress had a deep neckline and he could see the curve of her cleavage, the plushness of her breasts.

Fuck this movie. Yoongi literally had no idea what was on the screen at this point.

She leaned against Jungkook as he sipped his wine. Every so often, she poured herself a shot of whiskey and drank it. Like… what? Granted, it wasn’t very much, but he had never seen a woman just… do that. She would smile and settle back onto the couch, into the curve of Jungkook’s arm. His tattooed arm. Jungkook would then drape it around her again, fingertips almost touching her breast. All this, happening within ten inches of Yoongi, who was sitting on her right side.

He didn’t know what number he was on now. Yoongi wasn’t a lightweight but he couldn’t calm his nerves either. Nerves or growing lust?

Both.

Yoongi looked away and stared at the screen. He didn’t know what he was looking at. All he could think about was faceplanting into those tits and Jungkook’s hands all over him. Or her sitting on his face as Jungkook sucked him off. Or, her sitting on Jungkook’s face and him sucking Jungkook off–

“Yoongi.”

He nearly flung his glass in surprise but she reached over and took it from him. Her breasts brushed against his arm and Yoongi stiffened, trying to keep his face neutral.

“I think you need to slow down. Are you okay?” she said worriedly, placing the whiskey glass on the coffee table.

“No.” He shook his head quickly and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

Jungkook and her stared at him.

Yoongi raised a hand and took a deep breath. “Er… I am getting this feeling,” he said awkwardly.

She tilted her head. “Hm?”

“It’s nothing.”

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no. If you’re not comfortable, then we understand. You should go home if you’re not feeling well.”

No, that’s not really what I want. I want to fuck, damnnit!

“Ah…” Yoongi swallowed at the sudden attention placed on him. “It’s not that.” He was a straightforward person. He didn’t know how to make it sound metaphorical or pretty. “You two have a very strong… presence.”

She frowned slightly. “Is that bad for you?”

“N-no. It’s, er… attractive.”

Oh shit. He said it.

“Ah, I meant–” Yoongi coughed, looking away quickly. “The other day… I thought I heard my name… But it must have been a mistake, right?” He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say such–”

A softness pressed against him. Yoongi wasn’t wearing his jacket, only his long-sleeved white shirt. He froze. The softness slid up his arm. He could feel the weight of her body against him. His brain was turning into mush. Oh god, oh god, oh god…

“You heard me?” The words purred against his neck, hot and heavy.

He couldn’t turn around. He couldn’t. Yoongi tried to collect his words, fumbling through them.

“N-not on purpose…”

“You want me to say your name again? So you can hear it in person?”

The weight lifted. Slowly, Yoongi turned his head. His eyes trailed up her legs, to the floaty red fabric, to her waist, then up her chest to her face. She smiled slyly at him. Strong hands, one tattooed, one not, slid up her sides, grasping the bottom ties that held the bow together. Jungkook’s mischievous face popped up from behind her head. Yoongi just stared at them, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like a surprised kitten.

The bow teased apart, slowly. Jungkook’s hands slid inside the fabric, pushing it away. Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat. Jungkook cupped her breasts gently, rubbing his palms over them. She was wearing heart shaped pasties to cover her nipples. Yoongi was aware that he could run right now. He could have just stood up and walked out and that weirdness would have been over. Except, well…

His hand lifted. Yoongi hesitated for a moment, looking into her eyes.

She smirked and wrapped her fingers around his. His heart thumped loudly in his ribcage as she led him to her chest.

“You can take it off, if you want,” she said gently.

Yoongi swallowed as his fingertips touched her breast. Oh, so soft. He hooked a nail underneath the sticky material and pulled lightly. Nothing. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Little harder, Yoongi.”

His name was a soft purr. Yoongi bit his lower lip and yanked a little harder. It came off in his hand. He blinked rapidly in surprise, hoping he didn’t hurt her. His second thought was…

Holy shit, her nipple.

It was prominent, sticking straight out at him. It would have been visible through the fabric of the dress due to its size. Thinking about that was arousing him. Yoongi felt as if his whole face was heating up. He vaguely registered Jungkook peeling off the second one and dropping it on the coffee table. Now there were two – great math there, Yoongi, he scolded himself – and he sat like a statue, unable to comprehend that this was real.

Jungkook pushed her breasts together, trapping her nipples between his index and middle finger. He rolled them slowly. Yoongi watched in fascination as her eyes slid closed and her head tipped back, a breathy moan dripping from her lips. Jungkook squeezed and kneaded her breasts, nose buried in her neck as he inhaled deeply, murmuring her name. Her eyelids fluttered.

“A-ah… Yoongi…”

There was no wall blocking his view now. It was real.

Yoongi sat up a little straighter, leaning forward. He was still too afraid to touch.

“Y-yes?”

Her hand came up and stroked his cheek softly. He leaned into her touch, hungry. Her thumb pressed against his lips.

“Wanna kiss you.”

He cursed his bad habit of chewing on his lips, but leaned forward delicately. His eyes flickered to Jungkook, who was watching him with amusement. He wanted to ask. Are you sure? Jungkook seemed to understand and he nodded, smile turning gentler at Yoongi’s nervousness.

His eyes found hers again. Her lips parted. She led him to her face, closing her eyes slowly as her lips touched his. So soft, so gentle. It wasn’t the kiss he expected from his daydreams. It was warm and calm, soothing his nerves. His hands came up to cup her cheeks as the kiss deepened, tongue dancing against tongue. Everything just felt so soft. So lovely.

He felt Jungkook take his hands and slide them down. Yoongi gasped into her mouth as his palms touched her nipples. She moaned at his touch, nipping at his lower lip as he squeezed them, rolling her nipples with his thumb. They were just the right measure of hardness and softness. Her hands found his jeans and she pulled him closer by the waist, his body against hers.

“Yoongi-ssi…”

It wasn’t her voice. It was Jungkook’s, leaning forward and pushing up his shirt, running his hands over his skin. Yoongi gasped, suddenly feeling embarrassed. It was so obvious that Jungkook was more muscular and stronger than he was. But she held him close, kissing his jaw and neck. Jungkook’s face came into view, small smile dancing on his lips.

“I can call you that, right? Even though you’re my hyung?”

At this point, Yoongi didn’t even remember what honorifics were. “Whatever you want,” he muttered breathlessly. Jungkook chuckled and leaned forward, placing his lips on his. Oh, yes. More passionate, intense. Yoongi felt himself moan into Jungkook’s mouth and the younger man sucked on his tongue, hands along his back, pressing him into her.

It took a moment to untangle slightly. Breathing hard, Yoongi found himself looking into two pairs of lustful eyes.

“What do you want to do, Yoongi?”

-

Seducing Min Yoongi hadn’t been easy. There had been moments where you wondered if you had gone too far, or if Jungkook had teased him a little too much. It had been a long, carefully laid out plan. In fact, Jungkook almost gave up in the middle at one point and tried to convince you that he should hump him to get the message across. It had been a little difficult. But it was all worth it.

Because now you two managed to get Yoongi in the bedroom, flat on his back, your pussy in his face and Jungkook’s mouth on his cock. And oh, fuck, his fucking tongue. It had taken some more fondling and kisses to make Yoongi say it.

“Could I… eat you out while Jungkook sucks me off? Is that too much or–”

You grinded your hips into Yoongi’s face, sucking in a breath as Jungkook’s head bobbed up and down on Yoongi’s cock. Jungkook naked was already enough to make you wet. His muscular back, that ass, his tattooed arm, and his forearms flexing as he held Yoongi’s hips down. Could he suck dick as well as you? No, but he had a pretty good idea considering you were excellent at it. Watching Yoongi’s cock slide in and out of his mouth was a delicious sight. Yoongi’s tongue lapping at your clit had you dripping into his mouth. Somehow, he had just the right amount of pressure and roughness as he stroked you to climax, nails digging into your thighs.

You moaned in satisfaction, panting Yoongi’s name. Jungkook’s brown eyes flickered up to you and he made a muffled noise as he witnessed you playing with your nipples, squeezing and pulling on them lightly. You saw his hips jerk, humping the bed. You grinned. Teasing Jungkook was fun.

Yoongi tapped your leg and you got up, concerned. But he was clutching the sheets, gasping, head thrown back as he groaned, shoving his crotch into Jungkook’s face. Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gripped Yoongi’s hips, swallowing nosily as Yoongi’s entire body shuddered.

“F-fuck!”

You smiled as Jungkook sucked him dry, slowly rubbing his tongue around Yoongi’s cock as he cleaned him up. Yoongi did not seem like he was expecting this at all and moaned loudly, probably a little too loud. Jungkook dipping his head slowly, down, down, until the sensitive head hit the back of his throat. Yoongi’s face scrunched up, slipping into a moan as Jungkook slowly pulled back, Yoongi’s cock popping out of his lips.

Jungkook grinned. “Did I do good?”

You smiled. “Of course, my love.”

Yoongi squinted at him. “How the fuck did you learn how to do that?”

Jungkook pointed to you. “From the best.”

You smiled and Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Can I try something?” Jungkook asked, tugging on your arm.

You nodded. “What is it?”

Jungkook pulled you to him and kissed you, smiling against your lips. He readjusted you to be on top of Yoongi, your back to his chest. Yoongi made a disgruntled noise, but you rubbed your ass against his still sensitive cock, making him gasp. His hands wrapped around you. Yoongi had pretty hands, the kind of hands that made you pause the first time you saw him, the kind of hands you dreamed about touching you, the kind of hands that made your body melt. You were a bit disappointed that you couldn’t see Yoongi’s handsome face in his position but Jungkook was lifting your legs now, setting them on his shoulders. The condom was already on.

Jungkook smirked.

Was this man really going to expose your favorite position right now?

“Jung–fuuuuuck!”

His cock slid into you, slow and deep and hard. You yelped, feeling Yoongi grab your breasts and knead them. You liked this position for several reasons – one, Jungkook had you basically trapped under his body, and, two, Jungkook had power and gravity on his side. Thus, he could fuck you hard and deep at the same time, absolutely ruining you. And watch your face while he was doing it.

“Jungkook, ah, so deep,” you moaned, leaning against Yoongi’s chest as he pinched your nipples. Your pussy clenched, squeezing Jungkook’s cock inside you.

“That’s how you like it,” he drawled, rolling his hips into you, making his cock throb. You whimpered, looking deep into Jungkook’s eyes. Yoongi pinched your nipples and you whined as Jungkook thrust into your leisurely, burying himself in your folds.

“Whose idea was it to scream Yoongi’s name while we were fucking, hm?” Jungkook teased, fucking with such force that your ass bounced against Yoongi’s dick each time. You could feel him getting hard as your ass rubbed against it.

“M-mine,” you reply, earning you a slightly harder pace.

“So naughty,” Jungkook purred, licking his lips. “You wanted Yoongi so bad, didn’t you, love?”

You could only moan as Jungkook began to fuck you harder. Yoongi’s cock was smearing pre-cum all over you. You tried to desperately rub your ass against his cock, feeling it throb underneath you. It wetly slapped your ass every time Jungkook bounced you up and down.

“Fuck,” Yoongi grunted, kissing your neck. “Fuck, you two are seriously not fair.”

“Yoongi, ah, Jungkook…”

Yoongi rolled your nipples against his fingers and pinched them. You cried out, pussy clenching as your orgasm hit you, so overflowed with stimulation that you could barely think. Jungkook gritted his teeth, maintaining his pace as they worked you up again, Yoongi’s fingers rolling your nipples and Jungkook fucking you deep. It was an absolute mess of your own cum dripping down and Yoongi’s pre-cum mixing with it. The head of Yoongi’s hard cock was rubbing against your ass. You could watch Jungkook thrusting in and out of you, shiny and glistening.

“Ah, fuuuuck!”

You moaned as you came again, thick juices gushing down and coating Yoongi’s cock. Jungkook shuddered at your pussy tightening around him. You felt Yoongi’s hips shudder as he sucked in a breath sharply, groaning at the sensitivity as he came on your ass and up your thigh, splattering onto Jungkook’s legs.

Jungkook grinned triumphantly before fucking you even harder. It didn’t take long before he hissed, cock jerking inside you as he came, your name dragged out in a long moan. His jaw clenched, hips thrusting a little to get the last drops out of his softening cock.

After a moment, he pulled out, leaving you panting and sore in Yoongi’s arms. He got up to clean himself off, looking for a towel. Yoongi buried his face in your neck. You could feel his warm cheeks.

“Sorry about the bed,” he mumbled.

You reached back and petted his hair, breathing his name. You rubbed your ass against him and Yoongi stiffened. It made you grin.

“Stay the night, Yoongi.”

He nuzzled your hair even though he grumbled a bit.

“F-fine.”

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Girl Scout pt. 2

Part one didn’t do too well so idk if I’ll continue this series or not. Plus I don’t really like how I wrote this part. Y’all know how I am with series 😭 but I hope y’all like it!!

Peter Maximoff x reader fic

Summary: Lorna breaks her leg and is no longer able to sell Girl Scout cookies for her contest. So Peter is forced to become an honorary girl scout and sell them for her. And in doing so meets someone who might be able to help him win. 

Word count: 1334

Read Part One Here

Peter had assumed that it wasn't going to be all that hard to sell girl scout cookies. But he was so wrong, no one in the neighborhood was too eager to buy cookies from a grown man in a little girl's uniform. They would open the door, take one look at him and then shove it closed in his face. It also didn't help that he kept dropping all the boxes and having to go back to get them. At this point they were nothing but crumbs, he had run over some of them once or twice.

He had almost sold one box to this man around his age. But even after he had “proved” he was a girl scout as the man had asked, doing pushup and naming some of the patches on his satch. The man ended up buying a box from a different girl scout, from Sandra to be exact. His sister’s nemesis had given him this sickly sweet smile as the man handed her a twenty in exchange for 3 boxes plus a tip. After the man closed the door she turned to face him, her face now sporting a cruel smirk. “A little early for Halloween.” She stated. “What are you supposed to be anyway? A losing girl scout.”

“What no?” Peter said with a bewildered look on his face, wondering why this child was attempting to insult him. “I’m just trying to help my sister win a bike.”

“Fat chance old man.”

“Old man?” Peter interrupted. “I’m only in my twenties.”

“I already have the bike in the bag. There’s no way you can catch me.” She looked him up and down with a sneer. “Especially looking like that.”

“You know what, I am going to beat you.” Peter said with a new spirit of competitiveness in his soul. He never wanted to hit a 12 year old more in his life than right now.

She laughed at him, not believing his threat. “How many boxes have you sold?”

“Uh none.”

“That’s what I thought.” Sandra turned on her heel, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder as she did so. “Goodluck old man.”

“I’m not an old man!” Peter shouted after her retreating form, she just waved to him as she dragged her now empty wagon behind her.

As the sun began to set Peter began to lose all hope of even selling one box. He sighed and climbed the steps to the last house on the street, knocking half heartedly. He cursed as the movement made him drop all of his boxes on to the floor. When you opened the door you were greeted with a man around your age in a girl scouts uniform, cursing as he tried to pick up the boxes he had dropped. Each time he got one he dropped another, he bent down a little too quickly and his sash tore into two. You let out a giggle making him look up at you with a bright red face.

“Uhhh hey.”

“Hey.” You replied bending down to help him pick up his crumbled boxes. “Aren’t you a little old to be a girl scout?”

“Surprisingly that’s not the first time I’ve been asked that today.” You hand skimmed his and he shot off your porch, nearly crashing into your mailbox.

“What was that?” You asked with wide eyes.

“Uhhh, nothing.” Peter quickly replied.

You watched from your porch as Peter made his way back over to you. As he came closer you began to recognize his features, and you realized that you had seen him around before. “Are you the guy that was racing with his sister down the hill and lost her in my flower garden?”

“That’s me.” You laughed at his embarrassed tone.

“So why are you wearing what used to be a girl scouts uniform?” You picked up the sash that had torn in two, thumbing over the carefully stitched name on the front. You handed it back to Peter and he cursed at seeing it’s wrecked state.

“Lorna’s gonna kill me for tearing this.”

“I can sew it for you real quick if you want.” You pointed back to your house. “Do you wanna come in for a minute? And you can explain what it is exactly that you are doing.”

Peter looked at you with a curious look, wondering why you were being so nice to him. Truth be told you had seen him around the neighboorhood before and if you were being totally honest you had developed a small crush on the silver haired man. And inviting him in to fix what you assumed was his sister’s sash seemed like a good excuse to talk to him. Peter’s intense gaze was making you flustered, in seeing you turn away a blush took hold of Peter’s face. “Yeah that would be nice.”

“So let me get this straight.” You passed Peter a cup of lemonade, sitting down across from him. “You are selling girl scout cookies for your sister because she broke her leg, and you’re trying to win her a bike?”

Peter nodded along, the too small girl scout hat bopping adorably on his head. “And to beat her nemesis Sandra.”

“She has a nemesis?” You finished mending the sash, a long white line now scarred the surface. “What did this girl do?” You giggled, passing the sash back to Peter who gave you a grateful smile.

“Well according to Lorna she thinks she’s better than anyone and has won the contest three years running.”

“She can't be that bad.”

“Oh trust me she is.” Peter’s eyes narrowed at recalling his earlier encounter. “She’s a total brat.”

“Are you allowed to call other children brats?” You fought back your laughter at his seriousness.

“You are when they call you an old man.”

“She called you an old man?” Laughter filled the room from both of you. Peter telling you to stop laughing through his own joy at seeing you so happy. “Is it because of the hair?”

“Hey!”

After a couple minutes your laughter died down as you regained your composure. “Well you are far from being an old man. You are a very handsome young man.” You winked at him as you took his empty cup from him. Peter’s face erupted in heat as he mumbled out a thank you. You placed his cup in the sink and turned around leaning back against the counter. “So aren’t you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” Peter’s heart pounded at your vague question. Were you hinting for him to ask you out. Cause he really wanted to but he would have prefered to do it when he wasn’t dressed as a girl scout.

“If I wanna buy some cookies?”

“Oh.” Peter blushed and picked up a crumbled box and gave you his best smile. “Would you like to buy a box?”

“I would love to.”

Peter sorted through his boxes and handed you one of his least squished box in exchange for your money. You opened up a box of thin mints eager to eat one, pouring the box out into a ceramic bowl. You watched as nothing but minty dust fell out. “These are crumbs.”

“That they are.” Peter gave you a tight smile. “Please don’t ask for your money back, you’re the first person to buy a box.”

You laughed at his desperation, sitting through the crumbs for pieces. You found one full cookie and bit into it. “ I’m going to help you.”

Peter had a dumbstruck look on his face. “Why?”

You shrugged, brushing the crumbs off your hands. “Because that girl sounds like a jerk.” Peter followed you as you slipped on your shoes. “And I like you.” You gave him a smile and opened the door, waiting for him to go out it. Peter gave you a smile and followed you out.

Taglist: @chiswritingandreadingcorner @enemy-of-wonkru @xxspqcebunsxx @coffeeandteaintheevening @kitwalkerangel @xmaximoffic @livingmybestfictionallife @evanmybeloved @rottenstyx @raincoffeeandfandoms @ietss @cursedandromedablack @mossybank @usuck @tatesimper

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬3

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, violence and abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of death'; violence, attempted rape.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader’s husband brings home an unexpected houseguest.

Note: So this is for black Friday and then I’ll be working all today and tomorrow and schedule’s are super late so I dunno when Im working after that. Hope you guys enjoy and don’t hesitate to drop by my asks.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Arvin let you pick the record. You found it among the box of your daddy’s music. It was one of your favourites and you were glad he wasn’t bothered by Patsy Cline’s droll tones. He seemed to enjoy it as he sat and read a magazine and you searched for a button from your large tin to match that missing from Roy’s jacket.

“You ever listen to Elvis?” He looked up from behind the pages.

“I… I heard him on the radio but you know we haven’t got new records since Daddy died,” you said as you continued your hunt. “And Roy don’t like all that new music. He says it’s no good.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to like much, does he?” Arvin sniffed, “I always knew he was a grouch but I just thought it was the job.”

“He’s not… He’s just stressed. He works so much.” You looked down and settled on a button that was close enough. 

“You do too,” Arvin hid behind the magazine again. “You should be the one goin’ out and doin’ what you like on a Saturday. Hell, if he ain’t gonna spend his time with you, you should do something of your own.”

“I like sewing,” you shrugged as you threaded the button, “You know, it’s not so bad. I get time to myself. A lot of people can’t say that.”

“Sounds pretty lonely to me,” he flicked the page.

You were silent. You didn’t know how to respond. He was skirting around what he really wanted to say, what you didn’t want him to talk about. The tension in the air thickened as you feared he would admit that he knew or you might confess that your husband wasn’t much of one. Hell, you’d yet to accept that yourself.

Your fears were assuaged by the sudden clatter on the porch and the hinges of the door as it was swung open. You sat up and set aside Roy’s jacket. You stood as he staggered inside. He always did like to drink when he fished, or did much of anything else. You frowned as he tracked mud in on his tall rubber boots.

“Roy, you’re making a mess,” you said as you went to the doorway and watched him stumble around the entryway.

“Keep ya busy,” he slapped a hand on the wall and wiggled his leg free of a boot. “There’s a whole pail of fish out front too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed as his cheeks glowed. You doubted he’d be awake that long. “Well, I’ll just fry those up while you sit down.”

“Agh,” he tripped over his other boot as he slipped it off and Arvin brushed by you to catch him.

“Hey, Roy,” he took his arm, “How was the fishing? Why don’t you sit down? We’ll have a beer.”

“I almost forgot about you, boy,” he shook free of Arvin and ambled closer to you, “Maybe you can hide away after dinner for a while?”

He dragged his hand up your thigh and slapped your ass as he passed you. Arvin turned as Roy clumsily traipsed into the living room and fell onto the couch. He looked at you but you couldn’t stand to meet his.

“Sure,” Arvin uttered, “I’ll just go get those fish first.”

He disappeared through the front door and you crossed your arms as you turned to watch your husband. His head lolled as he chuckled.

“You think he ever fucked a girl?” He asked, “Boy tiptoes around like a virgin.”

“That’s crass, Roy,” you reproached.

“Don’t act so innocent,” he snapped, “If you didn’t, maybe I’d… well.”

His words trailed off and he closed his eyes. He yawned and sighed loudly. You grimaced and listened to the door as it hit the frame again. Arvin continued onto the kitchen as Roy began to snore. It must have been a record how quickly he’d passed out this time.

You went through to the kitchen as Arvin drained the water from the pail of fish. You went to the drawer and got a knife. You rest it on its end as you gripped it and looked out the window.

“He’s already out for the night,” you said, “You hungry?”

“I said I’d make the fish, I meant it.”

“Nah, I’ll flay them and put ‘em in the fridge,” you swallowed, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you’re stuck here with us. Sorry he’s always drunk.” You looked down at the blade. You didn’t say what you really wanted to. Sorry you were stupid enough to choose Roy.

“That isn’t your fault and you know, I don’t mind it so much.” He neared, “We’re friends now, aren’t we? That’s worth it.”

You nodded but couldn’t smile. He always tried to make things seem nicer than they were. He was much better at it than you were.

“You comin’ to church tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he answered like it was obvious.

You turned away and laid out the fish across the cutting board. He stayed behind you, the record silenced and began to skip.

“I think I got somethin’ nice I can find.” He left you and the crackle of the Victrola died.

You slice the fish, careful not to cut your fingers as you deboned it and tossed away the heads and tails. You heard Arvin speak in a low voice and a grumble. Then heavy footsteps interspersed with lighter ones. The stairs groaned and you kept on, wrapping the filets in paper and tucking it away.

You cleaned up and washed the smell off your hands. The living room was empty so you climbed the stairs and found Roy face down on your bed. You turned to the open attic and Arvin descended the ladder.

“You got him to bed?” You tilted your head.

“Wasn’t so hard. Poked him a few times.” He grinned. “So what time do I needa be ready for church?”

“We leave about twenty minutes before service. It’s at eight.” You answered, “Oh, you know what--” You raised your index finger, “One sec.”

You spun and scurried into your father’s room. It was just as it had been before he died except now there were boxes stacked along one wall. You pushed open the closet and fluttered through the clothes hanging within. You pulled out the old grey suit and white shirt that had yet to yellow. You grabbed a tie from the drawer as you passed the dresser.

You smelled them as you went back to the door as Arvin peeked in.

“For church,” you held them out, “My daddy was a bit taller but he got skinny near the end. I can pin up the pants for you and you’ll look just fine.”

“Oh,” he face paled, “You-- I can’t--”

“Roy’ll never fit into these so please,” you pushed them against his chest. “And I don’t think he’ll be up in time for church so I need you to drive.”

He smiled and took the clothes. He hugged them as if they were precious. “Thank you. I’m gonna sound like you for a moment but you really didn’t have to.”

“You think I’m gonna forget that you promised to make the fish? It’ll be a nice Sunday night dinner.” You inhaled deeply, “I think that for tonight, I’m gonna lay down though.”

“Alright,” he let you past, “You have a good night.”

“You too,” you neared your bedroom door as Roy’s snores grew louder, “Might have to stuff my ears with cotton.”

🚬

As you expected, Roy was too hungover to get up for church. You didn’t really go for the sermons but your daddy made it a habit when you were young to make sure you got to see the other kids in town. Sunday school had socialised you in the circles of the small town but they had proven less than welcoming. And since you’d grown out of your education, you went to trade recipes with some of the other wives.

Arvin was awake before you. As you pulled a cardigan over your blue dress you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and he appeared from the front room.

“Oh, Arvin,” you smiled, “That suit looks real nice on you. And the pants…”

“I sewed them myself last night,” he lifted his foot, “Remembered a few stitches.” He straightened the jacket, “You look real good too.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair?” You chimed. “Gonna have to be since Roy hasn’t moved since you dragged him to bed.”

“After you,” he waved to the door, “Think we should get goin’. My daddy woulda whipped me being late for the lord’s prayer.

You led him out the door and climbed into the truck opposite him. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. You felt calm as you smelled the early morning dew and you looked out the window as he shifted into gear. The lush green grass passed you by and trees swayed as he steered along the old country road.

As always, the church was crowded. You and Arvin squeezed in at the back. He was quiet and sombre as you entered. As you sat, you looked over at him. His jaw squared as the preacher came out and began his weekly scourge. A fire burned behind Arvin’s brown irises and he scowled for a moment before his face went placid.

You looked forward and folded your hands as you listened to Father Milton. You never cared much for his talk of hellfire and brimstone, to be fair, your daddy didn’t either, but in a small town, everyone knew when one was away from service. Roy never cared what anyone thought but you had to deal with Noreen and the other ladies at the grocer or around town about their own tasks.

When mass finished, you stood but Arvin hesitated. He stared up at the altar before he finally rose. He nodded to you and followed you and the other worshippers out into the sun.

You heard your name as you headed for the truck. You stopped and Arvin did too. You turned as Noreen, a woman older than yourself who fashioned herself to be the model for all society ladies, approached you. She wore a wide-brimmed hat over her blonde hair and took short steps in her heels.

“You promised me that carrot cake recipe. The one with the raisins.” She said. “Now I’ve been hounding you for three weeks.”

“Oh, uh,” you unclasped your pocketbook and fished out the card you’d made sure to stow after last Sunday. “Right here. I’m sorry, Noreen, but I gotta get back.”

“Where is Roy? Was he off drinkin’ again? You know, the lord did warn us all against excess.”

“Well, perhaps we can get him to come next week and you can warn him,” Arvin intoned and Noreen looked over in shock.

“Excuse me. And who is this… man you have as your escort?”

“Roy is letting the attic out to him. They work together. This is Arvin.”

“Arvin Russell,” he introduced firmly. 

“That’s an unusual name,” Noreen remarked, “You’re not from here?”

“No, but from a place like this.” He countered, “I’m gonna go get the truck goin’.”

He turned without courtesy and marched away. You looked back to Noreen as she curled her lip.

“Oh, he is a rough one, isn’t he? You have that scoundrel livin’ with you?”

“He’s a good man. Helps around the house. It’s a big place and Missy Grable has a tenant of her own.”

“Missy Grable has a farmhand to tend the fields,” Noreen lifted her chin.

You weren’t certain what to say. Noreen always found issue with whatever you said and you hated to give her further reason to.

“Well, here’s the recipe. I really ought to go.” You said.

“I understand, honey,” She smirked, “Your husband needs his caretaker… oh sorry, wife.”

You flinched but said nothing else. Your shoulders dropped as you turned away and dragged your heels through the dirt. You opened the truck and climbed in without a word. You clutched your pocketbook and stared ahead as Arvin back out of the lot.

“Pardon my saying so and I don’t use this word often, but she was a bitch,” Arvin said. “Remind me why I ain’t go to church.”

You looked down and nervously unclasped and unclasped your purse. “You didn’t have to come.”

“No, it’s your house and I wanna be a good guest,” he said, “It’s nothing to do with you.”

You scoffed and shook your head. “My daddy hated goin’ too but he didn’t want me to be ostracised, you know? He told me, near the end, that he stopped believin’ durin’ the war. He said no god would let the things happen that he saw.” You leaned against the door and watched the buildings pass. “Seein’ how these Christians act, I can’t blame him.”

Arvin was quiet as you left the main street and the house began to thin out until the country sprawled out around you.

“My sister…” he said so low you barely heard him. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “My cousin, she was tricked by a preacher man. She was young and too willing to love. And he was just a liar. He knocked her up then refused her.” His voice was brittle and you glanced over as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “She hung herself but it was that snake-tongued charlatan who killed her.” He shook his head. “No god would take her like that. No god would let a man sworn to him trick the innocent.” He rubbed his forehead as his eyes bore into the distance, “I’m sorry. Just been a while since I sat in a pew.”

“No, I’m… sorry. Sorry about your cousin.” You said, “I didn’t-- You can stay home next week.”

He pondered it and a little smile curled his lips. “Don’t think I will. Think I’d like to see that Noreen again. Maybe say a prayer for her soul, wherever it may be.”

🚬

Roy was still in bed when you got home. You tried to rouse him and he swatted you away. You brought him a sandwich and some water and left it beside him. You went back down to clean up as Arvin sat in the front room, As you wiped your hands, the record player buzzed and a tune rose on noontime air.

You went to the living room as Arvin stood straight and you listened to the smooth tones of Sinatra. He turned to you as you entered. 

“I like this one,” you said. 

“Me too,” He had shed the jacket and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, his tie disposed of. He turned his palm up as he stepped away from the player. “You dance?”

You giggled and shook your head. “No, not much of a dancer. Roy wouldn’t even at the wedding.”

“Come on. It’s a good song.” He got closer and began to sing out of tune, “I get no kick from champagne. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all…”

You shied away and he caught your hand. You let him draw you closer and smiled as your cheeks warmed up.

“Just follow my lead,” he urged as he moved his feet, “Don’t look down, just one, two, one, two…” 

You moved your feet around his as he swayed you and turned you on the spot. His hand settled on your lower back and you grasped his shoulders. You were jittery as you moved with him in time to the music.

“Arvin…” You breathed. 

“Every pretty girl should dance,” he said, “I’d say you’re a hell of a dancer for a beginner.”

“Thanks,” you trilled and settled into his embrace.

“I mean it. You deserve more.” He leaned closer and you felt his hot breath on you. “You deserve the world.”

You smiled as he gazed across at you. Your heart leapt as there was a sudden clamour by the stairs and you pushed away from Arvin as Roy stomped into the doorframe. His hand fell away from your back and you tiptoed over to your husband.

“Roy, you’re awake? How ya feelin’?”

“All this goddamn noise you makin’ down here,” he grumbled, “Shut off that dang thing. There’s a game on.”

You flitted away and turned off the Victrola. You looked at Arvin as he watched Roy. He looked irritated and repulsed by the man.

“I gotta do some chores,” you muttered. “You boys enjoy the game.”

“I think I’m just gonna go upstairs,” Arvin tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be down to cook that fish in a bit.”

You watched the younger man leave and Roy turned the dial on the radio. Your husband flopped onto the couch as the commentator’s voice filled the room.

“How about a beer?” He demanded, not asked.

🚬

The day turned to night. Dinner was quiet and tense. Roy didn’t drink as much as the day before but the alcohol made little difference. Arvin was pensive and seemed to lose himself in thought. You were nervous as you thought of the dance and your temperamental husband.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. It was just a dance. How come Roy could spend his days drunk and dozing and you couldn’t do anything you liked?

You cleaned up after supper. Arvin retreated to his room once more as Roy sat in the living room with another bottle and you tidied up. You cleared the last of the mess and looked out into the front room. Roy belched and sneered as he saw you.

“Wife,” he beckoned you forward with two fingers, “What did you do today?”

“Went to church. Cleaned.” You edged closer. “That’s all. I was real worried about you, Roy.”

“Were you?” He snorted and stood as he dropped his bottle on the table. “You didn’t seem too bothered when I came down.”

“What do you mean?” You stopped a foot away from him.

“You and that kid. You get on real well, don’t ya?” He snickered. “You down here dancing.”

“Just a dance, Roy,” you said meekly, “I didn’t wanna be rude.”

“You just wanna be a whore,” he snarled, “Huh? What you doin’ with that boy? I’m your husband.”

“I know, I know that, Roy. I never-- I didn’t do nothing.” You pleaded as he stepped closer. “I was just waitin’ for you to wake up.”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed as he grabbed the back of your head and thrust you close to him. “You been doin’ everything but what a wife is meant for.”

He tore open the front of your dress and you cried out. “I’m gonna fuck you and let that boy hear who you belong to.”

“Stop, please.”

“Stop!? This is what you promised me, dear wife.”

You struggled with him as the smell of alcohol on his breath made you cringe. He spun you and shoved you so hard you stumbled back against the couch. You got up as he ambled after you and were knocked back by his fist. You cradled your cheek as you fell onto the cushions.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and tried to wrench your legs apart. You squeezed your knees together and slapped at him blindly as fear bubbled in your veins. He forced your legs open and knelt on the couch between them. He grabbed your throat as you tried to wriggle away and he struck you again. He never hit your face; he didn’t like people to see what he did to you.

“I’ll show you,” he muttered, “I’ll show you, you little whore.”

He reached for his fly but his face mirrored your shock as he suddenly stilled and for a moment, he froze in time before he fell back onto the floor. Arvin stepped aside to avoid the crash and turned to hit him across the face. Roy’s brow split and began to stream with blood.

Arvin struck him a third time and pointed the gun at his head as he laid prone on the floor. Roy touched the back of his skull as he stared up barrel. The whack from the butt of the gun would likely leave a worse lump than his punches.

“Get up and go.” Arvin growled. “Or I’m gonna smear this carpet with your brains.”

“Are you crazy? This is my house!” Roy barked and pushed himself up. The pistol clicked and Arvin pressed it to his head. 

“It’s her daddy’s house.”

“She’s my wife, boy.”

“You don’t act like no husband,” Arvin said gruffly, “You think I’m scared? Think I haven’t shot a man before?”

“Sure you have, boy.”

“It’s different. You go out and you hunt your bucks and they don’t know what’s comin’, they don’t even know when they shot. But a man, oh he knows to the end. He begs, even if he can’t speak, he does. It’s in his eyes, in the way he gurgles as the life drains from his lips.” Arvin kicked Roy, “And once I pull this trigger, you’ll be begging too but it’ll be too late and there ain’t no words you can say to stop the blood. So you shut up and you go before you can’t.”

You were paralysed on the couch. Your head throbbed as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You trembled as Roy stood slowly and winced as Arvin followed his movement with the muzzle of the gun. Arvin followed your husband to the door and you heard the sharp whine of the other before it clattered shut. 

Crickets chirped as dirt stirred beneath feet and you heard the old truck shudder to life. The door snapped shut and locked loudly. Arvin appeared and lowered the gun. You stared at it as he came close. He set it on the table and sat beside you as he touched your face and you winced.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he pulled you against him, “I’m sorry he hurt you. I shoulda-- shoulda been faster.”

“Arv…” Your voice turned to a wisp and you let him hold you.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I got you now.”

[evening-starlight]

Daddy’s Best Friend

I just finished Chances yesterday and I already have another Tom story posted. I have a serious problem send help. Or Tom Hiddleston, he would work too

1

When Amaris Clarke comes home after a year of studying abroad in Paris, Tom is struggling to keep his feelings in check for his best friend’s daughter.

Word Count: 1346

    Amaris scans the crowd surrounding her at the airport, searching for one of three people: Her father, his best friend, or their personal driver. She pushes through the sea of paparazzi and finds a man wearing a ridiculous hat that looks like somebody's three-year-old painted on it scanning the arrival gate.

    She skips over to him, gaining his attention. Tom's eyes widen at the woman standing before him. When Amaris left for her year abroad, she was an awkward child. At least in his mind, she was. "Bonjour, Tommy," She greets before flicking the brim of the hat. "I see you kept the hat all these years." He laughs and throws an arm around her shoulders to shelter her from the never-ending group of press.

    "Of course I did. My favorite niece made it for me." Amaris will never admit it, but Tom calling her his niece sends a sharp pain through her heart. After a year apart, she hoped he'd see her differently, see her as the woman she was. But instead, he saw her as a child. "Your father is extremely sorry he couldn't come to pick you up. He got called into a last-minute meeting." Tom apologizes on her dad's behalf.

    "Don't worry about it; I'm used to it." Amaris shrugs as Tom lead her into the passenger seat of his black Jaguar. Her dad was a great dad. He went to everything important to her growing up, like dance recitals and art shows. Amaris coming home from a trip wasn't important, comparably. Tom lifts her two green suitcases into the back seat as Amaris sits on her phone in the front seat.

    "I'm going to drop you off at home, if that's alright?" Tom asks as he gets in and starts the car.

    "That's fine," She replies, not breaking contact with her phone, catching up on any gossip she missed on her seven-hour flight. They sit in silence while Tom navigates out of the airport parking lot. You would think he'd know these lanes like the back of his hand, the many times he's flown, but he continues to swear they change the layout every time.

    "How was Paris?" Tom asks as they finally enter the highway. Amaris puts her phone down in her lap, freeing her hands to talk animatedly.

    "Paris," She starts, accompanied by a vague french accent. "Was magnifique." And thus began the long schpeel about her times in Paris. Amaris told Tom about her travels around France, to meeting a french boy name Armel in her favorite local cafe, who she then dated and lived with during the last six months of her stay in Paris.

    Tom doesn't show it, but his heart broke a small crack when he heard she had a boyfriend. "We broke up before I left, though. I couldn't do long distance. Although, I would love to go back to Paris." Amaris confirms. "I felt so at home there the minute I stepped off the airplane." She finishes.

    "It sounds like you had a great year, Mari." Amari nods and looks out the window as the mansions start to pass. Dread starts to fill her body. In Paris, she could be authentically her. She didn't have to put on a face for the public as much as she had to here in New York. The real reason she broke up with Armel was that she didn't want him to see this side of her life. He saw the tiniest sliver of her life, and she couldn't bear the fact he didn't know who she really was.

    Her family's house rolls into view decked out in green and pink decorations and a giant banner welcoming her home. Amaris's younger siblings wait outside with excited looks on their faces. Tom barely has the car in park before Amaris jumps out of the car to hug her siblings.

    "I've missed you guys so much. You have no idea." She mumbles as her cheeks get crushed between the other two. She steps back and takes them in. "You've gotten so tall, Juno. Who the hell gave you the right?" Amaris remarks as she sees her youngest sibling standing a good six inches taller than her 5'6". She then turns to her sister. "And you," She gushes, looking over how vibrant and put together she looks. "When did Dad let you grow up?"

    "I didn't ask permission," She jokes. "How was Paris since I left?" Danica asks, having visited her oldest sister two months into Amaris moving there. Juno went after, six months into Amaris's trip.

    Tom watches the siblings talk and get along as he unpacks Amaris's bags for her. He had to admit, at least to himself, that she looked good. She grew up well in Paris. Amaris dressed confidently and looked the part. Tom was surprised no one else could see the golden glow she had surrounding her.

    Amaris looks over her shoulder at Tom with a bright white smile as if feeling him staring at her. He gives a small wave and picks up her bags for her. She offers to help, but Tom waves her off, telling her to catch up with her siblings.

    They all follow Tom inside, deciding to sit on the comfortable couches in the lounge instead of standing in the driveway. Tom joins them after dropping the bags in the hallway, sitting next to Amaris on purpose.

    He will admit to everyone that he's missed her dearly. It was like a part of him was missing this last year. She was the most important girl in his life, and he'd go to jail for her. He's said as much during drunken confessions. But this new feeling caught him off guard. He wasn't supposed to feel the never-ending need to touch her.

    The feeling dies down as he lays an arm across Amaris's back but returns when she leans into him. This wasn't anything new, though. Amaris and Tom would cuddle and sit together since she was a child. There was nothing else behind it; he was just her safe place after her mother passed away.

    Though, the cuddling and touching died down when Amaris started going through puberty and liking boys. But Tom was always there as her wall when she needed to cry. Tom would do nothing wrong with those kids. He saw them as his own some days and other days as his siblings. He wouldn't do anything to lose the trust of his best friend, their father. But Amaris could threaten all of that.

    As if called by Tom's thoughts, William walks through the front door, arms open and ready to welcome his eldest child home. "Mars?" He calls out. Amaris scrambles off the couch and runs to her father.

    "Daddy," She squeals, launching into his waiting arms. "I've missed you so much."

    William hugs her tighter, "I've missed you more, Owl. You have to tell me everything." Amaris gasps and lets go of her dad, remembering she has her bag full of gifts for the gang.

    "I brought gifts; go sit." She orders, going to find which bag she put them in. Tom says quick goodbyes to the family while he makes his way to the door. "Where the hell do you think you're going, Hiddleston?" Amaris asks, hands-on-hips while she blocks Tom's path. She heard his goodbyes and raced to intercept him.

    "I was going to leave you and your family to enjoy alone time," He offers, eyes falling to the low-cut blouse she wore. Was she always wearing the shirt? Tom adjusts the collar of his shirt as his face gets hot. This was worse than forbidden.

    "Are you trying to tell me you're not family, Tom?" The way his voice falls from her lips could bring any man to his knees. Like fresh honey straight from the beehive and sweeter than sugar cane. He needs to snap out of these thoughts. Instead, Tom smiles and holds his hands up. "Exactly, go sit. I have things for you too." Amaris turns on her heel, and Tom watches her leave, ass swaying in those perfectly fit jeans.

    Tom was utterly screwed if he didn't get over this weird crush he developed in the last hour soon.

Taglist: @queenofallhobos​

[hellfire-munson]

Looking Up Luke x Reader Pt 1

Pairings: Luke x Reader (Briefly at the end), Julie x BestFriend! Reader

 Warnings: Fluff, Brief mention of sad memories.

Word count: 2211

This is My first post so bare with me. I’ll get better at the edits and stuff as I learn my way around Tumblr. I also took inspiration from Paramore and the reader was strongly based on Hayley Williams in my mind but you can make her in your image. I don't own Paramore or their music. The song I took inspiration from is Looking Up.

     “Jules, you and Flynn are coming tonight, right?” You ask while you and your best friend throw you school books in your locker after your last period. Julie looks over and smiles at you.

     “Of course! The boys were wanting to tag along especially after I told them how you were in a band of your own. They wanted to know why you denied their offer after Luke heard you shred the guitar solo during that one rehearsal.” She says.

      “If he thought I was shredding that guitar, just wait till they see what I really got going on. Right now all they know and all anyone knows and thinks is I play guitar for the band. Also Luke wanted me to join so he could see me everyday.” You smile.

      “Wait, Jackie walked?!” She screamed excitedly.

      “Yeah, after her and I got into this huge argument about the upcoming shows and letting me actually sing vocals for MY songs she walked away, and someone had to take her place. I wrote this new song we are going to play tonight, you’re going to love it.” You smile at her.

      “Y/N this is amazing! Our mom’s would be so proud of us.” She smiles longingly.

     “Maybe we could collaborate one day, I know you’re a bit more popish than what Paramore is but we could make something work!” You smile at her. She jumps up and down loving the idea of the whole thing.

    “Yes! That would be amazing! Let's head home, we have to get ready for tonight. Oh how will we get in? I thought the venue sold out in minutes?” She asks turning to look at you as you two walk through the doors to your car. You pulled 5 vip lanyards out of your bag and handed them to her.

    “I got you covered girl, don’t worry.” You smile unlocking the door. The drive back to your house was filled with you blasting all your bands old songs and singing along. You were lucky enough to live in the same neighborhood as Julie and the boys so you often carpooled to school but the boys had things to do after school before the show so they went their separate ways. Julie was trying to help you choose your clothes for tonight but with you two being so entirely polar opposite it was hard. If anyone was to help you it should have been Luke since you two share almost the same fashion sense with a hint of Reggie mixed in. You eventually settled for an old cut up Sunset Curve shirt you “borrowed” from Luke with a lace bra underneath and you paired that with your highwaisted, ripped black skinny jeans and your studded Doc Martens. What you decided to do with your hair and makeup will come to you once you hit the venue. You gathered your things to pack into the car while Julie made some final accessory details to your look. She handed you your chain to attach to your jeans along with an assortment of rings and bracelets. Everything was looking perfect for your first big performance as the lead singer.

    “Okay, I gotta head to the venue for soundcheck. You, Flynn and the boys should be there around 6, the show starts at 7:00.” You smile, dropping her off at her house. You see the boys sitting in the garage waving at you. You smile and wave back before backing out of Molina's driveway and head towards The Orpheum.

           Soundcheck went perfectly and it left a little time to grab a light snack before you had to get ready. You knew not to go to the street dogs stand after the incident with the boys that ended their lives 25 years ago before they met Julie and you and somehow were brought back by the two of you. Your drummer’s  girlfriend decided to have catering come out with healthy choices which you were enjoying as we speak. Heading back to your dressing room the security guard stopped you saying there was a group of people here to see the band.

    “Oh that’s my friends from school, you can let them on back. Thanks Alan!” You smile popping a strawberry in your mouth.

     “You didn’t tell me you were playing the Orpheum!” You hear Flynn yell causing you to turn around with a piece of cantaloupe hanging out of your mouth.

     “Well you didn’t ask.” You say chewing the part that was in your mouth.

“Okay smartass. Also when did you change your hair color?” She asks pointing to your now orange hair. You smile slyly at her.

      “I did last night, but I wore it up in a hat today so people didn’t see it until now.” You say getting up to hug your friends. The boys are just standing at the door staring at you.

    “I don’t bite, you can come in.” You joke ushering them in.

“You’re playing the Orpheum tonight Y/N how does it feel to make it big?” Alex asks.

     “I’m not sure yet, maybe I’ll know after the show. Which speaking of that when you guys head down to the floor just find Alan and he’ll take you to the spot that’s reserved for you guys.” You smile at them.

    “Your hair is so bright.” Is all Reggie can say making everyone burst out laughing.

    “I can’t wait to see you shred the stage tonight. That day at rehearsal when you and Julie were goofing off… Holy shit, that was sick!” Luke says jumping up and down.

     “It runs in the family to be honest. Our moms were in a band when they were our age and my dad is a world known rockstar so I learned at a young age.” You smile winking at Julie.

     “Well we should start heading down so you can get ready. We are going to dinner after this to celebrate just so you know.” Julie says smiling at you. Once they left you started getting ready to meet up with your band to do your before show ritual handshake.

    “All right guys, this is the Orpheum. The place is packed with execs. This will be our big break. Let’s rock it!” Andrew says putting his hand in the middle as the rest of you follow. The opening band finishes their set signaling your time to go. The band runs out causing the crowd to erupt in screams of your name. You stay back to surprise everyone as they begin playing your new song.

    “Los Angeles! Are you ready!” You scream from backstage as the beat picks up.

Things are looking up, oh finally!

I thought I'd never see the day

When you smile at me.

We always pull through, oh when we try,

I'm always wrong but you're never right.

Oh you're never right!

       You run out causing everyone to scream as you work the stage to the music. Luke, Flynn and the boys look up in awe hearing your voice for the first time. The way you rocked out was breathtaking to Luke.

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

And it's not a dream anymore!

No. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

     You interacted with the audience as you sang the lyrics. You shot a wink over at Luke when you noticed his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Julie looked over at him and knew right then and there he has fallen in love with you even more than he already was. She smiled at her bandmate. She saw the smile break across his face as he began banging his head to the beat.

Could have given up so easily

I was a few cheap shots away from the end of me

Taken for granted, almost everything that I would have died for

Just yesterday,

Just yesterday

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

     You interacted with your bandmates as they played their instruments, dancing around the stage as you had the time of your life. Jumping and head banging with your guitarist.

God knows the world doesn't need another band, (whoa, whoa!)

But what a waste it would've been! (whoa, whoa!)

I can't believe we almost hung it up (whoa, whoa!)

We're just getting started (whoa, whoa!)

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

        You stood there smiling, taking a breath letting the crowd think you were done before you jumped off the drum stage singing the final line of the song.

I can't believe we almost hung it up!(whoa whoa)

We're just getting started! (whoa whoa)

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

       You dropped to your knees as you held the final verse as the lights went out sending the crowd into a fit of cheers and screams. You smile to yourself as you hold the microphone in your lap. The lights come back on letting you see the crowd still cheering you on. The surreal feeling you had was causing your heart to sing and you were pretty sure you saw a sign off in the distance of the audience that let you know your mother was proud of you. Composing yourself, you finished the night with 6 more songs.

    “Thank you guys for coming out to support a small band from this sleepless city. We are Paramore! Good night!” You said before running off backstage. You are met with your friends and a very starstruck Luke.

    “Oh my god! That was amazing! I mean we knew you could sing but that was epic! Why haven’t you fronted before?” Flynn asks.

    “Jackie wouldn’t let me. The band was my idea back when I was slowly getting back into music but I was still wanting to stay back and play. I wrote all the songs and let her sing them. When I finally said I was ready for a shot she threw a fit and when the rest of the band sided with me she walked.” You say taking a swig of water.

    “So this is why you refused to join us?” Alex asks.

    “That and your style isn’t my style of music. It’s to pop centric but I told Julie there might be a chance of collaboration in the future.” You smile seeing Reggie get excited about the idea.

    “And then we can do a country album!” He yells causing your bandmates to start laughing at your reactions. During your laughter you didn’t see a man dressed very businessy walk in.

    “Y/N…” Julie says tapping your shoulder pointing to the doorway.

    “Oh, hi!” You say walking over with your band to meet the man.

   “I’m Eric from Capitol records. Are you Y/N?” He asks.

   “Um, y-yeah I am.” You say reaching out to shake his hand. Your friends are eavesdropping behind you while pretending to hold a conversation of their own.

    “I’ve seen many bands here, I’ve scouted some of the biggest names in music but the energy you displayed tonight is something we’ve never seen but have been looking for, for our label. Capitol records would be happy to have you join. Here’s my card. Give me a call and we will set up a meeting with the head of the label and get you signed.” He says handing you his card.

    “Oh my, wow! Thank you. Also if you don’t mind me spreading the word but I know of another you might be interested in. I’ll send you their latest video if you’re up for it.” You smile sneaking a look over at your friend and her bandmates.

    “Of course, we are always looking for new talents.” He says before exiting the room.

    “Was that?! YES!” You scream jumping into Luke’s arms. Everyone starts dancing around cheering.

    “We are being signed to Capitol Records!” You yell into the air as Luke holds you close to him. His eyes never leave your smiling face. He throws caution to the wind when you look back at him and he crashes his lips onto yours making everyone stop and gasp.

    “Well it's about damn time!” Alex shouts as you two pull away.

    “Well damn Patterson, if that’s what I get for getting signed I wonder what I’ll get after I tell you I sent your video to him as well.” You smile.

   “YOU DID WHAT?!” The band screams together.

   “We’re all getting signed.” You smile.

    “I’m going to marry this girl.” Luke says kissing you once more with more passion than the first. Everything was falling perfectly into place and you couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you all.

I don't know how good this is, it sounded good and looked good when I was writing so I’m throwing caution to the wind and going for it. 

@parkeret​ I promised I’d tag you in my first one, I hope it doesn't suck!

@issaxcharlie thank you for also pushing me to do this as well!

@cookiebuba

[phoenixblack89]

Fera Ingris

Chapter 1 - Dealing with Dixons

It's finally here people! Eekkk! It'll be up on A03 later when I turned my laptop on. Been teasing this for soooo long.

My wonderful tag list:

@lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @autocon23 @browneyes528 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel

"Yer take care of yourself lass, don't worry about us."

Phoenix sighed at the man on the other end of the phone, twisting the silver rosary he had given her for her birthday many years ago. The world had changed dramatically for them all since that day. Their history bloody and violent and God sent. 

"Are ye listening lass?" 

"Of course, I'm listening! It's you who isn't! I'm on the way to Atlanta now!  As in I'm already in Georgia! I can't let you three rot in there when we've got things to do!" 

"Lass, we can take care of ourselves. Connor wants to know if ye got our package?" He asked, she stifled a laugh at the noise of the pair fighting over the phone she could hear. 

"Yea I got it. Haven't opened it yet though" she replied, the bike's engine growing colder under her. "What's in it? You guys shouldn't be sending anything. You're lucky Duffy and Dolly got it t' me before I left Boston."

"I know lass but ye need t' keep those safe fer us." She smiled hearing her other friend's voice, clearly having won the battle for the phone. "Look things are getting bad here. You're safe now but things are gettin' weird, we'd never forgive ourselves if anything happened to ye. I love ye too much" 

"I love ya too, you idiot! I'm gonna get you all out. We have a mission! I've got a bag full of your stuff right here on my bike, your clothes, coats, guns." 

"Aye. What?! No? Yea. Let me say goodbye a' least?" Phoenix knitted her eyebrows, hearing the man talking to someone else. A prison guard maybe. "Lass we have t' go. I'll call ye back when things settle aye?" 

"Yea. Just tell me where you are at least?" 

"Sorry lass I got to -" 

The line suddenly died on her and she frowned, shaking the phone and seeing no signal. She ran her hand through her short dark red hair and started the bike up, speeding quickly towards Atlanta and her boys. 

                                                      **********

The sun shined through the thin, flimsy material of the tent, shining directly down into the sleeping pairs eyes. The short, spiky, dyed haired young woman groaned and threw her arm over her face. She sat slowly and yawned. She'd had that dream for weeks, wondering what had happened to her friends. 

Had the prison been overrun by the monsters that lurked in every corner? Were they dead? Or worse... Had they become one of those things? 

She'd slept after her watch shift, which surprised the girl as she had been having a bad bout of insomnia for the last two weeks. Ever since... 

No, she thought don't think about it. 

She glanced at the young boy laid next to her and smiled. When Carl asked if he could sleep in her tent with her the night before she had been hesitant (mainly because Lori rarely let him out her sight) but Lori had said it was okay and she was not going to fight against the long-haired beauty. 

Lori had also said it would be good for her, get her to trust others again. And honestly the boy reminded her so much of her old friend with his boundless energy and smiles. 

A gentle tap to the roof of her tent set her senses on guard. She grabbed her long calf length boots and her Bowie knife and slowly pulled the zipper up. A sigh released from her throat as she squinted up at the crossbow welding man in front of her. 

"We goin' hunting or what?" He snarled at her, obviously still mad at the woman from their disagreement yesterday. It wasn't her fault. He had spooked her... 

Merle approached the dark red haired girl sat by the quarry lake silently. Something was up with her and he was determined to find out what. The sight in front of him worried him slightly, she was nervous and kept flicking her head around. Had she been bit? He was thankful the darkness of the twilight hid him somewhat as he watched. She hissed as she pulled the bloody bandage off her left hand, flexing it and hissing through her teeth. The soft sound of something hitting the surface of the water, made his heart thump. It wasn't raining so why did it sound like it was? 

He came right behind her and watched as she rubbed at the wound, it oozed blood and yellowish white pus as she gritted her teeth. Infection was setting in. Daryl called out his name from camp and the girl spun and noticed him there. 

"Ya shouldn't be down 'ere by herself girlie." He whispered, kneeling and gently taking her hand, examining the injury intently. "Now wha' we gonna do abou' yer hand? Yer can't take what I offered yer."

"Burn it again. Only thing we can do. Not like we can wander to nearest pharmacy, throw my hand on the counter and say fix it, is it?" She hissed as he prodded a sensitive spot, Merle chuckled slightly and helped her to her feet. 

"Nah but China is headed t' the city tomorrow. I'ma go too. I know my meds and I'll get yer what yer need t' be right as rain again, Lil sis." He said with a smirk as they climbed back up the slope to the camp. Daryl and Shane spun round at their footsteps and Merle smirked. Officer ass-hat was on one about something. 

"Phoenix! Where have you been?! We told you to stay in camp until you could fight!" Shane whisper-yelled in her face. 

"Easy there officer. Girl just needed a second by 'erself... Gets a bit loud round here." Merle defended her, placing himself between the well musculared man and the girl who seemed to shrink into herself. "She's fine. I was a watchin' her." 

"I bet you were Dixon." Lori said under her breath. Phoenix glanced at the woman with eyes narrowed. The majority of the camp thought the Dixons were rude, brash and shouldn't be there. Only Phoenix, Glenn, Andrea and Shane knew of the incident that had cemented the brothers in the camp's good graces, well in their good graces. 

Phoenix sat down at the small fire infront of her tent and sighed, her ears picking up on raised voices coming from the Dixon tent. It sounded like Daryl was majorly pissed about something and Merle was defending himself.

Isn't any of your business she thought ignore them.

She gazed deep into the fire, the heat warming her frozen limbs nicely. She hated the cold, not that it was cold but she felt like she was sat on a box of ice in just her underwear. She had experienced working in much colder situations, hell the Irish rain was colder than this. The sweat on her brow made her eyes ache and she closed them, leaning her head back.

"Ahh!" She shrieked, jumping up and thrusting her knife backwards towards whatever had grabbed her shoulder. A deep grunt sounded and her hand was twisted, causing her to release her grip of the blade's handle. 

"Ain't no need t' try t' gut me girl." Daryl growled, his gruff voice instantly calming the nervous woman. She sighed and held her hand out, Daryl raised his chin and regarded whether to return her knife or not for a moment. He relented at her raised eyebrow and dropped it into her left hand. She hissed in pain and clutched at her wrist. Quicker than she could pull away, he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist yanking her closer and pulling the bandage off her injury. He could see how raised and angry it look, grimacing slightly as it oozed at his poking. Tears of pain welled in her eyes as she grit her teeth, he grumbled under his breath and glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. Merle nodded and raised the half empty bottle of whiskey in a salute. "This why Merle is leavin' right?"

"Yea, told him he didn't have to." She whispered as he released her arm, her skin tingled at the lose of contact. Daryl ran his hand over his neck and bit his lip. 

"Ye need meds. Ain't happy a' him, riskin' his neck fer someone like ya." He groaned under his breath. Her mood soured and she shoved him away. He stumbled for a second and threw her a glare. "What the hell is ya problem girl?"

"Someone like me Dixon? Huh? What exactly do you mean by that?!" She folded her arms across her chest. Daryl's eyes flickered downwards for a second to how her arms pushed her breasts higher and more together. 

God she's gorgeous when she's mad he thought, his cock twitching in his jeans. He ducked his head and scoffed.

"Ya know what I mean, can't even hunt without hurtin' yaself." 

"Go away Dixon." She turned on her heel and stormed off up the bank, and climbing up the RV ladder to take watch. Daryl sighed and slopped off back to his brother, who was laughing, finding the whole scene hilarious.

                                                    **********

Phoenix nodded up at the hunter and pulled on her boots and grabbed her bow. She followed Daryl over to his tent where his brother was preparing to go into the city. Merle gave her a once over as she approached, his eyes narrowed at the bow across her back and the stains on the bandage around her left hand.

"Mornin' Firebug." He drawled as the pair stopped. She nodded and heaved her backpack tighter to her shoulder beside her quiver of arrows. "Y'all gonna be alright t' hunt wit' tha' hand?" He questioned, giving his brother a glance. Daryl gave Merle a hooded lidded look and nodded his head up. "Don't wanna waste my time if ya gonna drop down dead on poor Darlena 'ere."

The girl smirked and shoved the older man's shoulder playfully before flipping him off, striding towards the treeline.

"You watch 'er baby brother. She's one of us now."

"Hmm" Daryl said, glancing at the girl as she waited just under the cover of the trees for him. Merle gave a low chuckle and Daryl glared at him. "Stop."

"Come on baby brother, don't be like that." Merle stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Ya been pining after 'er for weeks now. Just give her some of the ol' Dixon charm. If ya even have any!" He barked out a laugh as his brother scoffed and walked away, joining the girl and disappearing into the woods.

                                                    **********

A low whistle drew her attention and she glanced in the direction of it. Daryl raised his hand and pointed off towards the copse of trees in front of him. Keeping her body low to the ground and her steps feather light she approached him. Her eyes darting out at the small herd of deer in front of them, they'd finally found them after two days in the woods. She raised her hand and pointed to the smaller of the two bucks. Daryl nodded and gestured he was going to try and get around them so if they darted he could take a shot. She nodded and crouched lower, using the shrubs to hide her. Daryl wandered away silently as she waited for his signal. 

A loud shriek pierced the air and the deer scattered. Daryl swore and took off after the smaller buck, Phoenix following him at a distance. 

                                                    **********

They stopped by a small creak, Phoenix dipping her hand into it and running it over the back of her neck. She felt like she was on fire, yet icy cold at the same time. The infection in her hand had well and truly set in, she needed to be careful or she'd drop and not get back up.

"We go a littl' further then stop fer the night." Daryl mummered beside her, wiping his soaked red rag over the back of his neck and down his face. She nodded, eyes staring off into the stream. He watched her carefully, the way her hair at the back of her neck was slightly curly, the way her ears twitched as if she was a rabbit or a deer hearing a predator. He found her beautiful and mysterious. A riddle he wanted to solve. He couldn't help his attraction to her physique either, the woman was beautiful. Not perhaps every man's wet dream but he found her incredibly sexy. 

He admired how she wore gothic, all black, metal studded and chained clothes despite the heat, her short dyed dark red hair, the regrowth hinting at sandy blond, spiked with sweat these days that cried out to be tugged as she was kissed, the slight thicker set of her thighs, buttocks and stomach, he much preferred a girl with a bit of weight than the skinny, almost starved look some of the women up at camp had; the ink he could spy under her clothes was calling out for him to discover exactly how many tattoos she had and why she'd chosen them. He had seen a glimpse of the tattoos on her by accident when he'd stumbled upon her at the lake having a quick swim and also when he'd found her in the woods. She kept herself well covered normally, she said she got sunburn easily. He could spy an interesting shaped scar across her collar bone when she wore lower cut shirts, not that she did very much now. 

Not since he'd saved her in the woods a week or so ago. 

He loved how well they worked as hunters together. She knew enough to track decently and was surprisingly quiet on her feet, despite the heavy metal covered, thick platform soled boots she chose to wear. They're only issue seemed to be that they butted heads constantly when not hunting, both taking verbal swipes at each other whenever they tried to have a conversation, sometimes she'd slap him on the arm; Merle finding it hilarious and entertaining to join in. Damn Merle, was his fault she got hurt in the first place. If he hadn't egged her on about her lack of hunting abilities, she wouldn't have been out in the woods by herself in the first place. 

He sighed quietly as she raised to her feet and moved away, eyes scanning the forest floor for the deer's tracks, finding them and leading the way.

                                                    **********

Daryl grunted as he lowered himself down beside the girl, who was turning a stick through the weak fire in front of her. The night was silent except for the light wind. He silently settled down against the log and took out of one of the squirrel for the pair to eat. Daryl made quick work of gutting and skinning the small rodent and shoved it on a stick to slowly roast over the flames. The girl's eyes drifting upwards towards the stars. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her. 

"We gotta head back in the morning if we don't find the deer." She nodded and pulled her arms around her own shoulders, shivering slightly. "Come 'ere." He said, holding his arms open for her to settle beside him. Daryl usually hated touching others and being touched was a rarity for him but he'd made the exception for her while they hunted. It was simply for survival he told himself. If she got too cold she'd get sick and then the group wouldn't have a hunter when he and Merle left. And he'd feel that guilt all his life, the kids needed fresh meat so he was doing something for the group. Nothing to do with his stupid little crush. Nope, he was doing it for the group. She shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Her head found his chest and she sighed, feeling the heat from Daryl seep into her cold bones. Daryl frowned, she felt hot yet she was shivering like crazy. 

That damn hand. 

He pulled her closer and ran his hand cautiously up and down her arm. She flinched at first then relaxed into his embrace. 

"Ya alright?" 

"Yea. Just cold." She whispered, her warm breath causing goose bumps across Daryl's chest. She blinked slowly, feeling sleep call her. The smell of Daryl's warm body lulling her, she had missed falling asleep in a man's arms. It was familiar and comforting. She felt safe, warm and protected despite the dead walking. 

                                                    **********

The sharp whistle drew her attention to the left. She nocked her arrow and let it fly, hitting the deer in the hind leg causing it to run. The two hunters had caught up to the deer earlier and were driving it towards camp. Daryl was in the rear urging it forward, while she made it turn in the right direction when it veered too far to the left. 

She spotted the steep banks that marked the outer edges of the quarry and smiled. 

Almost home.

Taking another shot to steer the deer towards the lower bank she smiled. The group would eat well tonight. She stumbled and shot at the hind leg again. The deer in one last desperate burst of energy slipped out of her sight but it was very close to camp. Wouldn't take long for them to catch up.

                                                          **********

Phoenix paused and braced her arms on her knees, Daryl whistled in question, asking if she was alright as he walked by her. She held up a hand in reply. He grumbled and walked away. She could hear yells and the sounds of stomping as she neared the rocks that hid camp. 

Daryl was knelt on the ground and looking over the deer. 

"Think we could cut around the chewed up part?" He said looking up at Dale and the others. Phoenix's eyes narrowed as she spotted a new face amongst the men. The group of men didn't seem to notice her as she joined Daryl at his side, subconsciously seeking his protection from the stranger. Fear made her heart pound loudly in her ears as Daryl stood. 

"I wouldn't risk that" Shane said quietly, Daryl sighed dejectedly frustrated he hadn't been able to feed the group more. 

"That's a damn shame. We got us some squirrels... About a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

"Oh my god!" Amy gasped as the head of the walker suddenly began to gnash its teeth. 

"Come on people! What the hell?!" Daryl exclaims as he releases a bolt through its undead head. "It's gotta be the brain! Don't y'all know nothin'?!" 

Phoenix smirked, shouldering her bow as she followed Daryl back into camp. She gave a glance over her shoulder at the group behind her, noticing the exchange of looks between them. 

"MERLE! MERLE! Get ya ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl calls out, Phoenix swivelling her head to see where the elder Dixon was.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane called, his hands on his hips as the group avoids Daryl and Phoenix's eyes. 

"About what?" Daryl queries, pausing his march around the camp. Phoenix, instinctively, taking Daryl's back with a bad feeling in her gut. 

"DD... Hear him out." She whispers as Daryl narrows his eyes in suspicion. Daryl glances at her briefly before turning back to Shane. 

"About Merle... There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta." The former officer sighs, his hand reaching out as if to pacify the man. Phoenix grits her teeth and reaches for the gun hidden behind her shirt slowly, sensing this was not going to end well. 

"He dead? "

"We're not sure..."

OH shitttt Phoenix thought, slipping the brace of squirrels and her bow off her shoulder. 

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl stated, his voice raising in anger as his face grew more dark. 

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." The newcomer said quietly, stepping into the discussion. 

"Who are you?!" Daryl asked, confused slightly as to what this stranger had to do with his brother's disappearance. 

"Rick Grimes." 

"Rick Grimes?!" Daryl spat aggressively, his face a mask to the hurt and anger underneath. "You got summit ya want t' tell me?" 

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I... I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal... He's still there." 

"What the fuck!?" Phoenix snarled as her eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Her stance widening, readying herself for a fight. Daryl began pacing, his eyes meeting hers, she gave a barely there nod in agreement with him. 

"Hold on... Let me process this. You're sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there!?" Daryl growled as he paced, the woman edging towards Shane, out of Daryl's path to Rick. 

"Yeah." 

Daryl growls loudly as he throws his rope of squirrels at Rick, who dodges them easily. 

"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells as Daryl pulls his knife. Shane dodges Phoenix and gets behind Daryl, quickly putting him into a chokehold. Phoenix steps up behind Shane, her own knife slipping into her grip, her gun giving a low click as she removed the safety and pointed it at the curls of Shane's hair. 

"Okay... Okay..." Shane whispers, lowering Daryl and himself to the ground. 

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl gasped, struggling to free himself. 

"Do as he says!" Phoenix snarls, her Beretta a mere breath away from Shane's skull. 

"Chokehold's illegal!" Daryl grunts, thrashing his legs. Phoenix lowers her gun to Shane's shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if needed. 

"You can file a complaint!" Shane laughs weakly. "Come on man. We'll keep this up all day."

"Like shite we will. I'll shoot ya first mate!" The red head growled as Rick kneels in front of Daryl and Shane, his head tilting to the side. 

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?" 

Daryl grunts, ceasing to struggle, slapping his hand out to the side of him; silently signalling to the woman to stand down as Shane hums in question. 

"Mmm...Yeah." Daryl replies. 

Shane releases him quickly and steps away as the younger man raises himself to his feet. Shane's eyebrows raised as Phoenix pulls herself to her full height, him and Rick giving her a worried glance. She smirks and makes a show of putting her knife and gun back into their places. Rick turns to Daryl and rubs the back of his neck slowly. 

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work or play well with others."

"It’s not Rick's fault!" T-Dog interrupted, the large man stepping closer. "I had the key... I dropped it!"

Phoenix scoffed, glaring at the man. 

"Ya couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl questioned, his anger disappearing and being replaced by worry and anxiety. 

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

"If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it don't." Daryl snapped as he shook his head, pacing in a small circle. Phoenix joining him at his side and glaring daggers at T-Dog. 

"Maybe this will... Look, I chained the door to the roof... So geeks couldn't get at him... With a big ass chain and padlock. Its got to count for something!"

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is... So that I can go get him." Daryl choked out, his voice cracking with tears as Phoenix gently placed a hand on his shoulder. 

"So we can go get him." She declared, daring anyone to argue with her. Daryl gave her a tiny up nod at her and squeezed her hand on his shoulder lightly. 

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori spoke up from the door of the RV, she looked to Rick quietly awaiting his reply. 

"I'm going back." He stated quietly. Lori sighed and walked into the RV. 

                                                   *********

Phoenix pulled on her long studded leather jacket and secured her axe into the specialised holster on her back. Daryl stood beside her silently, chewing his lip. The Brit have a slight wobble as she got lighter headed and Daryl's mind came to only one solution to a major issue between the pair.  

"Hey." 

"Hey DD. You ready to go get Merle?" She asked, bending to tie her boot laces.  "Yea... Ya not comin' though."  

"What!? You can't be serious DD! You need me with you so those picks don't leave you there as well!" She snapped back as he turned to walk away. 

"Daryl!" 

"Nah. Ya hurt. Too many geeks in the city fer ya axe. Stay here. Keep safe." He argued back, she growled in her throat and pushed by him. His hand wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip.  

"Dixon..."  

"Listen... Stay here. I don't... Just... Fuck." He hissed. "Merle will be pissed. Real pissed." 

"He'll of been baked in the sun ya mean! He is gonna be stir fried from the heat! He's gonna need someone to calm him down. He ain't gonna hurt me DD... He wouldn't hurt me." She sighed, her head beginning to throb. "I have to Daryl. I owe him one!"  

"Nah ya don't!" 

"Yes I fucking do!"  

"No. Ya stayin' here!" 

 "I'm going!" She yelled, hands on her hips.  

"No!" 

"Yes!" 

"NO! And that's final!"  

The pair continued to argue for several more minutes until Shane interrupted them, the pair literally chest to chest and needing to be pulled apart before fists began to fly. Phoenix huffed and stormed away into the woods as the man agreed with Daryl. Daryl glared after the fiery woman before stomping off to the truck, missing her turning back towards the camp and leaning against a tree with her arm crossed against her chest.    

Phoenix glanced at the truck Daryl stood in. She wanted to wish them luck but knew Daryl was still angry with her. He looked in her direction and nodded his head, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. She sighed and walked towards him, he knelt down at the open shutter and tilted his head towards her.  "Keep safe in the city DD." She whispered, gazing upwards into the man's sky blue eyes. He nodded and chewed his thumb. "Bring Merle back. Wouldn't be the same round here without that dickhead." 

"Yea. Be quieter fer sure." He chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. Phoenix reached up and pulled at Daryl, forcing him to brace himself against the ledge as she hugged him with one arm against her chest. Daryl slowly relaxed enough to enjoy her closeness and leaned his head on top of hers.  

"Please come back." She whispered into his ear as he pulled back slightly, his eyes flitting around camp to make sure no one was witnessing the exchange.  He nodded lightly into her neck, his arm coming to loosely hold her waist. He breathed in her soothing subtle scent and closed his eyes to help him memorise thee moment, just in case. He cleared his throat and pulled away, feeling a certain part of his anatomy starting to stir. She smiled weakly at him with teary eyes and walked away.  

"Hey!"  

Phoenix turned slightly, the breeze making her hair wave over her face softly. Thee sun shining behind her making her hair look like flames licking across the crown of her head. The bruises and cuts across her face hidden in the shadows of her face and hair.  So beautiful Daryl thought, smiling slightly. His mind locking the sight into his memory as he stood and waved to her.  

"Stay safe!" He called to her, she nodded and waved back. Her cheeks tinting pink at his loud show of concern as she smiled softly.   

NEXT

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 3

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 3

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2344

Summary: It’s Christmas in Wisconsin for Sam and the reader.

Warnings: angst (sensing a theme here), alcohol, slow burn

           Christmas Eve was a Thursday, which meant you were working. You’d predicted it would be slow, but there were big chunks of time where no one was in the bar at all. Christmas carols on the radio helped pass the time, and you drank a little more of the almost-coquito you’d thrown together in the back at the beginning of the shift than you needed to. It reminded you of your aunt and the way she’d smell of coconut through Boxing Day every year when you were growing up; welcome nostalgia you could tolerate like pressing a thumb into a bruise and distracted you from the evisceration of thinking of Dean. The day shift had left the bar understocked, so Sam spent a good amount of time going up and down the stairs refilling refrigerators and cutting fruit for drinks. Around 10 or 11 the people who didn’t want to wrap up the night when their in-laws went home straggled in, a handful of regulars that you generally liked but had a tendency to get a little rowdy when left alone together. It didn’t help that they showed up a few drinks in.

           The merriment was infectious, and it was sweet to hear grown men proud of the gifts they’d gotten their loved ones. One even brought a few bottles of homemade maple syrup to give to the others, sliding one sheepishly across the bar to you. You were pouring out a round of coquito when Sam came up from the basement with a towel tossed over his shoulder.

           “Everything should be good,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t cut it in months and the ends fell gracefully around his shoulders. A piece fell oddly across his forehead and you reflexively fixed it for him.

           “What did you two get each other?” a regular, Steve, asked with a relaxed finger pointing between you and Sam. His cheeks were ruddy with whiskey and winter air.

           “Oh. I—uh, we don’t really do gifts,” Sam offered placatingly.

           “Man, where did you find this girl? Listens to classic rock, drives a stick shift, and doesn’t ‘do gifts’?” another, Joe, added.

           “You better be buying her some presents or someone else will.” Jake, a customer you’d always felt safe around since he tossed out a rude guy for you a month back, chimed in.

           You and Sam had never explicitly said that you were together. People just assumed, and it was easier to go along with it than explain the truth, especially because you didn’t look similar enough to be siblings and you still couldn’t shake your need to cling to him from time to time. It was almost never an issue aside from periodic mild teasing. This Christmas talk was a departure from the non-explanations you and Sam usually gave and you found yourself waiting for a cue on where to go. Sam seemed to be having the same thought, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

           You spoke before the moment had a chance to become too pregnant. “You know how hard it is to buy presents for a guy who doesn’t like having stuff? If he buys me something, I’ll have to get him something too!” You hoped it sounded smooth, your lying out of practice in the months since you’d had a cover on a hunt. Sam smirked gratefully at you.  

           Joe shook his head wistfully. “Seriously, where did you find her?”

           “She’s pretty great, isn’t she?” Sam’s voice sounded sort of soft around the edges, almost like he was tired but not quite. When you looked up at him, that pebble of self-consciousness you’d felt at the hardware flipped in your stomach again and you glanced away in favor of a one-armed hug you intended to look affectionate. Sam did the same, encompassing your entire shoulder with his hand.

           When you drove home that night, warm and full of coquito, Sam played Christmas carols.

           “I think we should do gifts.”

           It was the first thing you thought when you woke up, and you said it into Sam’s chest as you laid there before you opened your eyes. You could tell from the rhythm of his breathing that he wasn’t all the way asleep.

           “Hmm?”

           “I think we should do gifts. We should really do Christmas if we’re going to do it, and that means presents. What do you think?”

           You felt as much as you saw out of the corner of your drowsy eyes that Sam raised his unpinned arm to rub the sleep out of his. “Mmm, okay? I mean if that’s what you want.”

           “Thank you,” you said as you nestled deeper into him.

           “‘S already Christmas though.” Sleep pulled Sam’s words together like taffy.

           “It can be goofy stuff; I just think we should open presents under a tree and everything. Seems like the kind of thing we should do, you know? Like trying to be normal.” You couldn’t bear saying out loud what you meant, that Dean would’ve wanted presents and stockings and eggnog and Santa hats and a big roast if he could’ve, to fall asleep after watching the stars glitter off of falling snow.

           Sam heard anyway.

           “You’re right,” Sam murmured. He rubbed your upper arm absentmindedly.

           “I’ll wake you back up when the bathroom’s free,” you offered, carefully rolling over him to get out of the bed. He nodded with closed eyes and flopped over onto his stomach.

           About an hour later, a wet haired Sam slid into the Impala’s driver side and rubbed his hands together to warm them up. You could tell from the puffiness around his eyes and his overcompensating casual tone that he’d been crying. He set his phone to pipe Your Inner Fish through the stereo and backed down the driveway over snow tamped down over the last week.

           It had been years since you’d gone Christmas shopping, as much as this could be considered Christmas shopping. The town you’d settled in had exactly 7 businesses on a tiny main street, including 1 small inn, a grocery store, the hardware store, a coffee shop (the most reliable internet in town, much faster than your place) and 3 different places to get a burger. You met Sam in the grocery store after grabbing what you wanted from next door in hardware, catching him just as he came out carrying a bag with a long pipe of wrapping paper stretching far past the top. When you left, there were only two other cars in the parking lot grabbing their own last-minute things.

           You wrapped your presents on the bed. It wasn’t like riding a bike as you’d hoped it would be, and your sloppy corners started you down a mental spiral. What a completely asinine thing, wrapping hardware store presents to put under a stolen tree. This wasn’t the Rockwell painting you wanted to present as sacrifice to Dean’s memory. It was cheap and stupid, a sloppy high school production when Dean deserved Broadway. He always had. As much as the three of you had never really done Christmas, Dean knew how to make something special while maintaining the air of not caring. You remembered waking up on his made-up anniversaries: six months from the first time you kissed, three years since he realized he loved you (three years minus 53 days before he said anything), 14 months since you’d figured out how to put a gun back together in the dark. Even in the most podunk little towns he’d find gorgeous bouquets and put together great meals in tiny kitchenettes; drive miles away to pick up a cake for Sam’s birthday or pepper motel rooms with festive streamers and silly string. Two quick, hard breaths through your nose to collect yourself and you finished the wrapping. That would have to be good enough.

           Sam was crouched in front of the fireplace with a bellows, a plucky little fire kicking into gear with his help. “All yours,” you called out, grateful your voice didn’t crack.

           “Thanks. It’ll only be a second.”

           He was right, and came back to you on the couch in only a few minutes with two wrapped bundles. You shyly handed him what you’d wrapped and took his.

           “Uh, Merry Christmas I guess,” Sam said. You noticed the edge of discomfort in his voice and were sickly grateful not to be alone in your tentativeness as you popped open the scotch tape holding the paper on the rectangular package. Before you’d uncovered it, Sam had his first gift unwrapped.

           “Nice! They had these at the hardware store?” he asked, snapping open the clamshell package on the cheap purple noise-cancelling earbuds you’d picked up.

           “I’m sure they’ll sound like they were made underwater, but I figured you could hide them pretty easily if you wanted to wear them at work, listen to your podcasts while you restock or whatever.”

           “That’s a really good idea.” He looked down at the headphones considerately for a beat.

           You pulled the paper off your present to reveal a notebook and two ballpoint pens. It had a leatherette flexible plastic cover that felt smooth under your fingertips and was about the size of a standard hardcover novel. You opened it to see inside, and a few photos dropped out.

           “I just—you didn’t have any—I can take them back if you want,” Sam stammered, but you heard him as if through those checkout-aisle headphones while your eyes blurred. These were pictures you hadn’t seen for years. The one on top of the loose stack in your lap was outside Bobby’s house. It felt like a lifetime ago, leaning over the railing of the small porch to kiss Dean as he stood on the ground in a sweaty t-shirt covered in engine grease. Under that was one you remembered used to be the background of an old phone, where you, Sam, and Dean huddled together in a booth at some bar you’d forgotten the name of in Montana that had girls dressed up as mermaids swim around in big tanks, part of the same theme that explained the blue fishbowl drink partly out of frame in Dean’s hands. There was one you didn’t recall with you and Dean stretched out on a nondescript motel couch, his arm protectively covering you as you coiled up into his side, both clearly asleep from the closed eyes and slightly parted lips. The last was a picture you hadn’t seen since the last time you went to Jody’s house; it had touched you then to see it hanging up on the wall, you carrying Dean piggyback while Sam clutched his knees laughing. It was the same day Claire had turned 16 and you had no idea why you’d needed to convince Dean you could carry him, but the whole thing had ended up with everyone rolling on the ground, grabbing at laugh-opened rib pains for what felt like blissful hours.

           You weren’t surprised at the silent tears that were pouring gently down your face, but wiped at them harshly with your sleeve so they wouldn’t drip. “Sam—” you croaked. “I don’t…I didn’t—thank you. How did you find these?”

           “They had an instant photo printer at the grocery store. I’ve had a flash drive with some stuff on it for a while.”

           You passed through each picture again, studying them like the gospel. It was almost hard to match the photos to the memories, memories having been replayed and multiplied and color-saturated in your mind over and over again, too big to fit into these little pieces of cardstock. But Dean was so beautiful, and you all looked so happy.

           “It’s supposed to help to write about how you’re feeling, so I thought…” Sam trailed off.

           “It’s perfect. I—thank you, Sam.” You met his eyes, stormy blue-green and taking on an amber reflection off of the fire. He looked nervous and almost guilty, like he had miscalculated and hurt you. Carefully slipping the photos back into the notebook, you set it on the table like it was made of crystal and threw your arms around Sam to tuck into him, knowing you were crying through his shirt but unable to stop. You realized you were murmuring thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou into the crook of his neck at the same time you felt the wetness of his tears onto your shoulder. Pulling him in tighter, you slunk back into the arm of the couch behind you. Sam slotted into the curve of your body, wrapping around your torso with powerful, gentle arms. His hair was silken when you began to stroke it, feeling his wracking sobs against your chest. It was impossible to gauge the amount of time it took for both of you to stop crying, skin slick and hot against each other on the old couch as your bodies hardened together like a mold. You felt dried out and sore and wouldn’t have pulled away from Sam if you’d had a gun to your head.

           “Man, and we were doing so well,” you hummed into Sam’s hair.

           “Were we?” Sam asked, and it was all you could do to laugh. Sam laughed too, the emotional and physical fatigue of it blending between you in the air. He adjusted his arm and you could feel the span of his hand across your lower back. The two of you sat there for a few more moments before you gathered up enough courage to let go of him.

           “Want to open the other one?”

           Sam nodded against your chest and slowly extricated himself, running a hand through his messed-up hair and rubbing his neck as he reached for the other present you’d gotten him. He tore through the paper unceremoniously and smiled down at the shoe repair glue and new boot laces. “You saw they split, didn’t you?”

           You smiled back at him. “Would’ve just gotten you a new pair of boots but, you know, late notice. Maybe this’ll buy you some time.”

           He handed you his second gift from the coffee table. Inside the foil-adorned wrapping paper were three bags of gummy worms.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 4

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[wyn-n-tonic]

Golden, Like Daylight -- Part II

Word Count: 1,846 Warnings: References to drug use. PTSD. Ben Affleck. As always, if I forgot anything please message me and I'll amend this warning. A/N: Protect Francisco Morales at all goddamn costs, honestly. 

MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX

“Fish?”

He cringes inward at his military nickname, it rips at his heart hearing it drip from his best friend’s mouth now. This man he would die for, almost has died for. None of the others had called him that in years, he insisted on Frankie with them. But he’d barely heard from Santiago, had no way of telling him.

He hears the words he’s saying, same shit he always says:

“I need a pilot. I can’t do this thing without you."

Years of that shit pulling him into another tour here. A deployment there. Again and again. Long after he served his sentence and was free to go.

“I don’t know, man. I got the new baby now,” he beams. Santi didn't know Luna and all Frankie wanted to do was tell him about her but he holds back, opting instead for, “And my lady isn’t into my doing this kinda shit anymore.”

He looks back at Will, a knowing look exchanged between the two. He is begging for his brother to step in, say something. Save him. He’s throwing Leah under the bus but, fuck it, it’s true. She isn’t into him doing this kinda shit anymore. And she wasn’t the biggest fan of Santi, always coming up with shit to get the rest of the boys into.

“Wha—what does that mean?”

Frankie lets out a breath he feels like he’s been holding all day and stands, knowing he’ll start shaking if he doesn’t. The knee bouncing is getting out of hand but he was hesitant to seek out anti anxiety medication while detoxing. He’d just sweat it all out anyway. Santiago’s droning on behind him, hell bent on staving off rejection.

“Did you read the text? This can change you and that baby’s life forever.”

Leave it to Santi to exclude Leah, he wasn’t necessarily her biggest fan either. But to just gloss right over her? Didn’t even fucking ask Luna’s name.

He crosses his arms, “What happened to that bullshit about going back to your mother’s homeland and empowering the people to police themselves?”

Santiago stares him down, a power grab of a laugh escaping him.

“Anyway, I lost my license. I can’t even fly right now.” Please just drop it, please just drop it, please just drop it.

Benny’s wrapping his knuckles. William’s looking between the two. And Santiago? Santiago is closing the space between them.

“I don’t need a pilot with a license, I’m in with the army down there,” he says as if that makes things better. It doesn’t. He knows it, Frankie knows it, the Millers know it. But if there’s one thing Santiago Garcia gets, it’s his fucking way.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Frankie’s firm, he’s not fucking doing it this time. He’s worked too goddamn hard on everything. Built a life out of rubble and was this close to pissing it away, he’s not gonna seal the deal on Leah’s promise to go.

Santi paces, frustrated, “Lorea is destroying that country. So we get to take out a very bad man, and, oh, by the way, there’s a winning lottery ticket stuck to the bottom of your cowboy boot.” He says that last bit with a mock tone and he’s smiling, believing he’s got Frankie now. A bit of a tease to rile his best friend up, get him laughing, get him in it. “Every guy in that gym would jump at this.”

“Come on, focus, guys! It’s fight night.” —————

“Hey!” He catches up with Santi in the hall, “I didn’t mean to call your shit bullshit.”

He didn’t, really. He knows where Santiago’s coming from but he can’t be the one in the thick of it anymore.

Another of those cool, indignant laughs, “It's all right.”

“I got busted,” Frankie says coolly, like he’s letting you know he left the light on, “it’s not a big deal.”

Santi’s head snaps to the right.

“Actually,” the taller of the two continues, “It's a big deal.”

“Coke?” Santiago’s trying not to let Frank’s addiction shock him, scoffing, “Jesus, Frankie.”

“Technically, it’s a suspension, I’m still under review but… it fucked everything up with Leah. I’ve been detoxing in Will’s spare room for weeks.”

“You’re telling me she didn’t know before the suspension? I don’t buy that.” Frankie tried to ignore the venom in his words.

“No, she knew. We’ve been in couple’s counseling while I’ve been getting clean, she said she didn’t know it was as often as it was. Just thought it was a hit here and there.”

“So things are good still?”

Frankie takes a deep breath, “We seem to have gotten back to good but that’s not where I wanna be, Pope. I wanna be great.” He looks to Santi and then Will, “What about you? What are you gonna do?”

There was no doubt in the world where Benny stood. He’d follow Santiago into hell. He pretty much had on more than one occasion but Benny always was a wildcard. Will was too calculated for that bullshit, he needed a plan. He needed foundation under his feet, not just charisma and Frankie would follow him. Frankie owed him his life. Will was the one to convince Frankie to hang it up. The one putting a half dead Frankie in cold showers and pumping his fucking stomach on no sleep. Will was the one Leah called when Frankie got too close to the edge. His brother, Luna’s godfather.

“I said if Redfly’s in, I’m in.”

Fuck! Fucking Tom. Frankie takes his hat off, adjusts his hair. I fucking hate Tom. —————

“Tom is not in our wedding,” Leah glared down the kitchen island at Frankie, arguing again about the goddamn wedding party. She didn’t even want it anymore. Had thrown her hands up, on more than one occasion, and begged to just run down to the courthouse.

And it all circled back to Tom fucking Davis.

“We served together for ten years, Leah! It’s a bit fucked up to have the rest of the boys up there in tuxes, Tess as our flower girl and Tom is,” he flails his hands out, “Three rows back with that one coworker who brings you coffee every Friday.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let Tom sit that close to the altar, Francisco Morales. And next to Alexa? She is my angel and Tom Davis will be nowhere near her, do you understand me?”

“Then marry Alexa, babe!”

Leah put her hands on her hips, “Bitch, I might.”

He breaks and laughs, lifting his hat to rub at his forehead, “What do you want me to tell him then? You have plenty of friends who could be a fourth bridesmaid.”

“How about you drop Benny too?” She shrugs, “Just keep Will and Santi and I’ll keep my sisters. Two and two.”

He throws the hat on the counter, “YOU LOVE BENNY!”

“You're right, baby,” she laughs, eyes bright. A challenge on the tip of her tongue. "Drop Santi.”

He charges after her, ready for her words, and chases her through the house. Their house. Still nowhere near unpacked after a month and he’s cursing the unintended obstacle course he’s laid out for himself. She’s making quick work of it but, fuck, he’s out of shape.

He runs up the stairs, back screaming with every step as he gains on her. It helps his legs are much longer than hers.

She makes it to the bedroom, spinning to close the door but he grabs her before she can, pinning her down with all his weight. She insisted on the nicest sheets they could find and almost never made the bed, preferring to fall right into the softness without much work.

He ran his hand down her body, drumming his fingers in a soft rhythm until he reached her thigh, hitching it over his hip.

Her heart was still racing from the chase but Frankie felt it tick upwards as he placed his lips on her neck.

“Francisco,” she whined, “we can’t do this right now. We have to do grown up things.”

He smiles into the soft skin, “this is grown up things.”

“You know what I mean.”

He looks up at her, “hmm…” He’s got her right where he wants her, none the wiser as he reaches down to her knee and—

“Frankie, what are you doing?” Her voice comes out an octave higher, panic in her eyes pleading with him not to when the corner of his mouth crooks upwards and—

He digs his fingers into the soft flesh at the bend of her knee, smile blown wide as she screams out like a hyena.

“Stop! Stop!” She laughs through labored breaths, “baby, it was just a joke.”

“You're not funny,” he lulls with a kiss.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” her eyes filled with hurt and conviction, “I'm hilarious so… ya know, jot that down.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“But Tom fucking Davis is not in our wedding or I swear to god, Francisco Morales, I will call the whole goddamn thing off. It is my day and I’m not having his big Irish head in my wedding photos for the rest of my life.”

He laughs again, “Fine. But what should I tell him?”

“Tell him I fucking hate him.”

“You don’t hate anybody, baby, I don’t think you’ve got that in your heart. Be serious with me, please. What do I tell him?”

“Tell him,” she thinks for a second, because she absolutely does have the capacity for hate in her heart, “that I can’t choose amongst my friends for a fourth bridesmaid and so I just want to keep the party small with only my sisters.”

He seems satisfied by that, nodding his head. “But I am keeping Santi.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But…”

Her stare is like daggers, “I’m not talking about Tom anymore.”

“No. No, it’s not that,” he’s laughing, his life is all laughter now. “I just still think we should set Pope up with Kristyn.”

She’s pushing out from under him, sitting up for the higher ground. Her finger is in his face, her words are measured, “If Santiago Garcia even so much as looks at my little sister, I will do what so many have tried and failed to do before.”

“And what's that, sweetheart?”

“I will kill him.”

The whole bed is shaking with his laughter now, “You're right, baby, you’re hilarious.” —————

Will’s in front of them now, hands on his knees, “What's the verdict?”

Tom looks at Frankie, then to Will, “I'm in for the recce if you guys are.”

The world goes quiet, replaced by a high pitched ringing in Frankie’s ear as he downs the world’s shittiest beer.

Fuck.

“Fish?” Santiago’s voice cuts clear through, always had.

Frankie lowers the plastic cup, “When is it?”

“We leave Thursday.”

Fuck.

Again, he lets go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, staring off into the ring. Staring off at nothing and everything.

“Okay.”

This could change his family’s life forever.

Fuck.

TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @notcookiebelle | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​

[thiswasinevitableid]

If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???

Here you go!

22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.

Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.

It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.

“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.

“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.

“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”

The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.

“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”

“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”

The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”

“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.

“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”

“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”

“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”

“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”

“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”

“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”

A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.

“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.

“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.

Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”

Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.

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

He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.

“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.

“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”

“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”

Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.

“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”

“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”

As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.

Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.

“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”

“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”

“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”

He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”

“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”

She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”

“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”

“How can you be sure it’s fake?”

“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”

“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.

“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”

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

He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”

“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”

“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”

“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”

It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.

“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them

“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.

Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.

Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.

It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.

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

“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.

“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”

His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.

He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.

His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.

A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.

Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.

I.C All

Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.

He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.

“Come in!”

The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.

Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.

“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”

“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”

“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.

“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”

“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”

“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”

“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”

“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”

“...Come with me.”

Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.

“I had no idea this was here.”

“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”

“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”

“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”

“You know he won’t, sugar.”

“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”

Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”

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

“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.

“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.

“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.

“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”

“I’m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.

“How’s Maddie doin’?”

“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”

“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”

“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”

Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.

“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”

“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”

She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.

“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”

“A few weeks.”

She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”

“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”

The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”

With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.

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

“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.

“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”

He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.

“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”

Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.

“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”

“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”

It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”

“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”

Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”

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

This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.

But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.

His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.

It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.

“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”

His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.

“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”

“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.

“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”

“You struck a deal.”

Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”

Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.

“He blackmailed you.”

“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”

“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.

“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”

“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”

Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.

He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.

“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”

Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”

Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.

“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”

The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”

He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.

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

“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”

“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”

“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”

“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”

“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”

He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.

“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”

“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.

“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”

An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.

“You like when I’m rough?”

“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.

“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”

“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.

Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”

“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.

“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”

“Please show me how.”

“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.

“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”

“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”

He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.

“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”

“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.

“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”

Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.

“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”

The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.

“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”

Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.

“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.

Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”

“Fuck, please?”

He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.

“I, I should unzip-”

“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”

“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.

“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”

“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.

“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”

“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”

Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”