#lighting was strange so I took some creative liberties in what color their clothes were | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

retrievablememories · 5 years ago

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moonlight | jaehyun (m)

title: moonlight pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: smut request: “Hi 😘 Nct members going to a strip club and jaehyun getting a private dance that turns into fucking scenario please? Can be smutty” word count: 3.2k warnings: sex work, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, riding a/n: I admittedly don’t know much about strip clubs at my big age of 23 💀 I researched what I could but took some creative liberties. I only included a handful of nct members here since that is a looot of men lol

“Don’t look now, but your pretty boy and his group of friends are back. Diane says their car is outside,” Anya says, walking into the dressing room where the rest of the girls are. Your interest is piqued at this, though you pretend not to hear her as you finish applying your makeup. Serena isn’t so quick to let you off the hook.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend? Your little boy toy?�� Serena asks, leaning closer and batting her eyelashes at you.

You pause with the mascara wand in your hand. “What boyfriend?” you scoff, though you already know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Girl, stop pretending like you’re not into him or some shit. You look at him almost as much as he stares at you!” Anya rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip, looking every bit of an Amazon in her 6-inch heels.

“He’s yet to request a private dance, so…I’m not sweatin’ over him. And anyway, he’s no boyfriend of mine if he ain’t paying the bills.”

“Okay, I heard that one!” Both Serena and Anya laugh at your comment. But now that you know he’s here, you are suddenly a little more motivated to dance well tonight. Not that you don’t already, but a little extra never hurt anyone.

Him and his idol friends come around to Moonlight every so often, one weekend or so a month, to get their rocks off. They’re from that kpop group NCT, and you’ve figured out the one who stares is Jaehyun. But you don’t know a ton about them other than those bare facts.

With Moonlight being one of a few ultra-diverse strip clubs in Seoul, it rose to popularity fairly quickly after its establishment. And to no one’s surprise — no one who truly knows the game, anyway — there are always a lot of kpop idols who come to watch the dancers. Their fans would undoubtedly be scandalized if they knew, but hey, that ain’t your problem. You’re here to make money, have fun, and seduce starry-eyed, lonely men. If they’re attractive, that’s only a bonus.

The House Mother, Daya, comes to stand in the doorway and calls your name. “You’re up next girl, so move that ass!”

“I’m coming,” you sigh dramatically, but there are no hard feelings at all. She’s one of the nicer club owners in this part of the city, one who treats all the girls like equals no matter what their skin color or creed is. And when you work in a club as popular and as multicultural as Moonlight, you need someone there to keep the drama to a minimum.

The club is as dim as ever, but the stage lights remain at a low shine, ready to come on full blast once the next dancer appears. The music thumps so heavily that the bass seems to become one with the building, making every part of the club feel alive with energy. A group of 5 men enter, weaving their way through the seats to make it to their usual spot next to the stage.

“Wow, can’t believe we’re actually in a strip club right now, haha…” Mark tries to play it cool, but he’s not very good at hiding his nervousness. This is only his first strip club outing with the other boys, after all. He taps his fingers on his legs like he’s playing the drums.

“Yeah, could’ve sworn we were on Mars instead,” Doyoung says, and the others laugh while Mark rolls his eyes.

Mark isn’t the only one whose nerves are getting to him, though. Johnny notices Jaehyun’s restless demeanor as the rest of them settle in, and he muffles a laugh, nudging the younger man. “God, I hope that one dancer you like is here tonight, you look like you’re about to come out of your clothes.”

“She’s way out of your league,” Ten snickers.

“Stop acting like I’m ugly. I could get her any time,” Jaehyun argues, glaring at the other man.

“She’s a woman of her own, not something you can take as you please, Jaehyun!” Johnny says, and both Ten and Jaehyun laugh.

“Johnny, you should keep an eye out for your own crush.” Doyoung gives him a knowing look, and he only laughs sheepishly in response.

It isn’t long before you appear on the stage, the club bursting with cheers and claps and the dual spotlights flickering to full illumination. The spotlights glisten on your skin and reflect off the light pink lingerie set you’re wearing, making you look akin to a goddess—at least in Jaehyun’s eyes. You step out from behind the velvety curtains, letting the fabric caress your body before making your way towards the pole in the middle of the stage.

Your signature song plays as you twist yourself around the pole and perform your favorite tricks, letting yourself be hyped up and carried away by the people around you calling your stage name and throwing bills at your feet. The world spins as you do, revolving around the pole with your legs touching the sky. You grin at the upside-down faces staring back at you, leaving your charm to do all the talking.

You finish your pole routine by slowly sliding down to the base of it and landing carefully in a split. Your back is facing the NCT boys, though you look over your shoulder to flash a sultry look at the audience. This one is always a crowd-pleaser—though you also use this move as an excuse to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun’s expression. You aren’t disappointed by the hunger written across his gaze.

You gracefully turn your body to them, getting on your hands and knees so they have a full view of your chest. As you crawl closer to the end of the stage, Jaheyun’s figure grows clearer underneath the club’s simultaneously dark and light atmosphere. He’s close enough to reach out and touch.

So you do—bringing your legs out in front of you and spreading them in an appealing stretch before resting them on his shoulders, one after the other. Other men in the club seethe with envy. Jaehyun himself is stuck like a fish out of water, blushing madly but also completely into your display.

Beside him, Doyoung whoops and Johnny whistles. You lift your legs off of Jaehyun gracefully and follow the move by letting your silk robe slip off your shoulders, fully exposing the bare skin of your shoulders and back. Even this is enough to get the men riled up again, and you revel in their cheers.

Jaehyun knows enough strip club etiquette than to try to touch you, and you take advantage of this by gliding off the stage and circling him like he’s your prey. You purposely brush your silk robe over his body, letting it cocoon him in your scent. His fingers drift across it, and he wonders if it could possibly be as soft as your skin looks—or maybe you’re even softer.

Before he can truly get into it, you’ve flitted off to another nearby table of men, taking your silk with you.

“Holy fuck,” Mark looks like a deer in the headlights, and his legs are crossed uncomfortably to hide his obvious boner.

“The baby’s gonna implode!” Ten laughs.

“Well hold it, because the night is just beginning!” Doyoung shouts.

Jaehyun’s eyes keep coming over to you even as you rotate to one of the other, smaller platforms in the club, another girl taking your spot on the main stage.

“You really put it on him tonight, huh?” Serena says, putting her arm around your shoulders. “He’s totally in love. Watch him come to the next show with an engagement ring.” You chuckle at that idea. You find it strangely endearing. You wouldn’t marry him without knowing him, of course, but the idea of having him that tightly wrapped around your finger makes you grin.

You don’t have long to think about it before Daya is coming to break up your kiking fest.

“You’ve got a request for a private dance from one Jaehyun. Sound familiar?” Daya announces. Serena nudges you, and you nod. Daya raises her eyebrows. “You up for it?”

The corners of your lips curl up in a smile. “Give me 5 to freshen up.”

Moonlight holds a dozen or so rooms within its second story, all solely reserved for private dances. You climb the stairs slowly in your heels, partly because you don’t want to trip and partly because you’re slightly nervous about what to expect. There’s an abundance of security guards stationed on this level—and each room has an emergency button—so you’re not worried about safety, per se. Whoever this Jaehyun guy really is, you hope he can meet a few of your expectations, at least. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, but you’ve built him up in your mind more than you’ve allowed yourself with other club-goers.

The room number is 202. You stand in front of the door for a few moments to take several deep breaths. Then you relax your body, talking yourself back into your Performance mode, and open the door.

“Who’s this handsome man?” Jaehyun looks up to see you standing in the doorway, still wearing your outfit from the stage. He sits up on the plush black couch that stands out from the blazing purple hue of the rest of the room. A row of mirrors frames the wall behind the couch, reflecting your own figure back to you. He looks a bit disheveled, with his shirt unbuttoned and his slacks crooked, but it’s a good look for him.

He leans forward to drink in your body, his eyes drifting up from the garters resting against your thighs to the lacy bra covering your breasts, and you smile underneath his gaze. “Jaehyun. And you’re ______...right?”

“Of course. You should know me by now, special boy,” you tease, sauntering over to him to sit on the couch beside him, instead of his lap like he expected. Still, you hover incredibly close to him, your hand sliding against his lapels and stroking the fabric of his button-up right where it unfolds against his skin. “After all, you’ve stared enough.”

“It’s hard not to.” Jaehyun rakes his eyes across your body as if he’s dying to touch it. You smirk and stand up again, sliding off your silk robe and throwing it to him as you wind your body to the music coming from the room’s speakers.

“What would your girlfriend say?” you tease.

His eyes widen at that. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Don’t act so scandalized about it...men with girlfriends and wives come here all the time. It’s shitty...but it’s life.” You say this while twisting your hips in his face, and he initially seems a little too distracted to realize you’ve said anything. Then it registers.

“That’s....do you like this j-job, at least?” Jaehyun’s breath hitches at the end of his sentence when you drape yourself across his body, your head resting back on his shoulder and your ass pressing against the undeniable bulge in his pants. Still, he doesn’t touch you, which you are grateful for—many other men haven’t been so tactful during private dances—so you continue servicing him without a care in the world.

“It’s fun, and I get to meet handsome men like you.” Your fingers ghost across his jawline, drifting only inches away but not making contact. “There’s a lot to like about it.”

You move away and he thinks you mean to get up, but you only turn to face him. “You can touch me now, if you’d like. I think you’ve been a good boy…”

You grind in Jaehyun’s lap and are delighted when he responds in kind, pushing his hips up to meet yours. Your faces are inches apart. You are practically breathing in sync, smiling like there’s a secret only the two of you know.

You make the first move by kissing him, and he slants his mouth against yours as if your lips have always belonged together.

You grasp Jaehyun’s hand and lead it to your hip, and he takes the cue to rest both of his hands on your waist, simply following your directions.

He does take the lead with the kiss, though, biting your lip as you gently pull away, and tugging you back in. He tastes like alcohol, and as cliché as it is, it makes you feel a bit drunk—but that might also be due to his demeanor itself.

“How long have you wanted this?” you ask, sliding your hand into his black shirt and drawing your nails across his skin—not painfully hard, but enough to make him throb under you.

“Maybe too long,” he says. “You’re very beautiful.”

You smile. “Aren’t we a perfect match, then?” Your hand slides lower, to his abdomen and the muscles you can feel even under his dress shirt, and then to his belt. “Would you like to continue?” you ask.

“Yes.”

You unbuckle his belt, sliding the leather through his belt loops and dropping it off to the side somewhere. You slide yourself off his lap to kneel in front of him as you caress his lower half, rubbing your hands up his thighs and across his bulge, underneath his clothing to feel his abs, and then back again.

Unzipping his dress pants is equally fun. You watch him sweat and feel him shudder as you drag the zipper down with your teeth. You pull his underwear down after, slowly drawing the material over his skin on purpose. His cock springs out, hard and thick and flushed with need, and you lean forward to drag your mouth over it, base to tip.

Jaehyun is heavy and warm against your lips and he smells good, like male musk, like pheromones and desire. You hold the base as you slap his dick on your tongue and he rolls his head back, making a sound between a groan and a laugh as if he can’t believe this is happening.

He doesn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he lets you do the work of sliding him into your mouth as far as you can take, drooling over his dick and sucking him so messily that it makes his knees quiver. The groans and grunts you pull out of him are lovely to hear—you feel good to know that you can bring him this much pleasure so easily. His precum drips into your mouth, salty on your tastebuds.

Jaehyun is pliable in your hands as you stroke his shaft, focusing your tongue on his leaking tip. You feel his thumb brushing the back of your neck, his hand settling on your nape as he watches you suck his dick. He curses under his breath when you scrape your teeth against him very gently, giving just enough pressure to make it feel good.

Soon, you feel Jaehyun nearing in your mouth, his cock throbbing harder and his thighs trembling around you.

“I-I want to fuck you,” Jaehyun says abruptly. You pull back to look at him through your eyelashes. You leave a trail of spit lingering between your lips and his dick, and he looks like he might come right then.

“Such a greedy boy.” You lift yourself to be level with his eyes, tilting his chin with your fingertips. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” He looks like he isn’t totally certain that’s the right answer, and it makes you laugh. In response to his request, you turn to face the door, bending over and making a show of unclipping your garters and sliding your thong down before straightening to remove them completely. Jaehyun moans at that.

You turn back to see that he’s already taken care of the condom. He groans beautifully for you again when you crawl back onto his lap and slide him inside of you, clenching around his hard length.

You start with a slow and winding rhythm at first, not entirely hellbent on teasing him but not willing to let him blow his load too soon, either. His hands are all over your body at this point, gripping your ass and your breasts and whatever else he can get his hands on. He pulls your bra down and tugs your nipples into his mouth like a man starved.

You laugh at his eagerness, riding him harder.

Jaehyun plants his feet straight on the ground and starts thrusting up into you and you cry out at the added sensation, his tip hitting against your g spot and making you sweat and tremble.

“Fuck, you’re good,” you sigh, digging your nails into his shoulder as you fuck each other at the perfect pace.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he says in between sucking your nipples. “I’ve gotta taste it.”

“N-next time.” Your body squeezes around him again as he brings one of his hands to the front to rub your clit. You’re glad the music is loud, otherwise there’d be no hiding your noises or the sound of your skin slapping together.

You feel wild and free in a way you haven’t in a long time, and you let yourself scrape your nails across his skin and bite at his neck as you fuck yourself harder on his dick.

You and Jaehyun kiss and thrust against each other like you’ll never get to do it again, with all the delicious hurriedness that a quick and tension-filled type of fuck can offer.

“I’m c-close.” Jaehyun groans this into your hair as you’ve gone back to biting his neck again. He grips your ass and holds you tighter against him, if at all possible, and pushes himself into your spot with renewed energy. His hand still works your clit, just shy of being firm enough to hurt—but practiced enough to provide pleasure.

“Not without me,” you say, licking the shell of his ear. “What would your friends say?”

“They wouldn’t know, because right now, you’re mine alone.” He slaps your ass and that’s enough to get you spilling onto him, crying his name right into his eardrum as you shudder and tighten around him.

Jaehyun comes soon after, thrusting a few more times and settling himself deep inside you as he fills the condom. He leans his head against the couch and you watch as he vocalizes his pleasure, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he arches into you.

You feel sated and a bit sleepy now, but your shift isn’t over yet and there are still more shows to be done. You lay a kiss on Jaehyun’s throat before gingerly untangling yourself from him and redressing, making sure everything is in place.

Jaehyun throws away the condom and does the same for himself, though there won’t be any hiding the bruises you’ve left on his neck. He looks in the mirrors behind him and blushes at the sight of them, brushing his fingers over them.

“Sorry honey. Hope your friends don’t tease you too much over it.” You smile sympathetically, though you aren’t terribly sorry. You move to open the door but Jaehyun calls out wait, and you pause.

He slides a piece of paper with his number on it into your hand and gives you a smirk. “Don’t forget our promise. ‘Next time,’ remember?”

You tuck the paper into your bra and make a note to put it somewhere safer once you get to the dressing room. “Of course, baby.” With that, you are gone, and Jaehyun is left with the memories—and the marks—to remind him of you until you meet again.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct ambw #ambw fic #ambw scenarios #nct scenarios #nct jaehyun #nct fic #nct 127 fic #nct 127 imagines #ambw imagines

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anoutlandishfanfic · 8 years ago

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Part Three, Chapter One: Wandering in the Wood

The Premise: Jamie sends a dying Julia (aka Faith) and distraught Claire back thru the stones before he returns to the battlefield at Culloden, but there’s a catch. Mother and daughter are separated on the journey. Claire believes Julia to have remained with her father, and when she finds a small grave at Lallybroch bearing Julia’s name, it further solidifies this belief. Jamie, on the other hand, was left alone atop Craigh na Dun and believes his precious daughter to be in the future with his wife. Julia was, instead, transported sixty years into the future ahead of Claire and grows up there. She is welcomed into a warm and loving family, but tragedy strikes as her adoptive mother is killed in a car accident. Three years later she is kidnapped by a band of buffoons looking for her birth parents.

This, my friends, is where we pick up in Part Three. You can find links to read Parts One and Two here.

October 30th, 2017; Somewhere in the middle of the woods. Julia.

The sun had set long before we got to where we were going, which was apparently somewhere in the middle of nowhere in North Carolina. It was pouring down rain and the windshield wipers could barely keep up. If I hadn’t been tied to it, I think I would have bounced out of my seat with the amount of potholes we hit. I swear Cruella was purposely hitting them all.

Our progress came to a stop quite suddenly and I wondered if we had hit something. Jasper unbuckled himself and moved to untie me. “Now, no–” he began.

Rolling my eyes as far as they’d go, I interrupted him, “No funny business, I know.”

The circulation to my hands returned in a rush and I rubbed them on the skirt of my school uniform to try to stop the unpleasant sensation. It didn’t really help. I peered out the front window, wondering where we were. A dim glow shone thru the downpour, but aside from that I had no idea what lay outside.

Horace slid open the door of the van and yanked me out into the freezing rain. He pulled me along beside him, straight thru the giant puddles that filled the front walk. A door opened ahead of us, illuminating our muddy path in a strange fluorescent light.

There was a man standing in the doorway, a silhouetted figure menacingly blocking our way.

“Here she is, boss,” Horace shouted to be heard above a roll of thunder and shoved me forward. I tripped and all but fell at his feet, whoever he was.

He steadied me with a firm grip on my shoulder as he held me out at an arm’s length for inspection. The light was still coming from behind him, shining right in my eyes and making it impossible for me to see. “Damn, you look just like him,” the figure commented.

Like who, my elusive birth father? This guy knew him too?

I felt like a guest on one of those prank shows. Surprise! This has all an elaborate hoax with hidden cameras! You’ve now completed level five and won a lifetime supply of Fruit Loops! In addition to these wonderful prizes, you get to confront the people who abandoned you as a child! All without parental supervision!

His hand lay heavy on my shoulder and made it clear that he was in charge.

Was this Crawford?

I looked up at him to see what he looked like as he ushered me inside, but found a rather ordinary looking guy. He wasn’t overly tall, maybe a little above average height, and didn’t have any remarkable facial features. His nose was straight, his teeth even.

Whatever I had been expecting to see as I walked thru the door, it wasn’t this. There were bulletin boards everywhere, each one carefully organized and labeled. A small table was shoved into the corner with two rickety chairs sitting next to it. Every surface was piled high with books and stacks of papers.

“How was your trip?” the man I assumed to be Crawford asked nonchalantly, letting go of me as the door closed behind us.

“Unexpected,” I quipped, growing colder and more annoyed by the second.

“I see you’ve your mother’s tongue too.” He turned to me as he picked up an apple out of a bowl of fruit and tossed it to me, “Hungry?”

I caught it easily and studied it for a moment.

This man believed a fairy-tale to be scientific fact.

I’ve seen Snow White. I know how this goes down.

I was not about to eat an apple offered to me by the bad guy and I tossed it back. “You take a bite first.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he did so, “It’s not poisoned.”

“Please excuse me if I don’t believe you,” I muttered and took it from his outstretched hand. Crawford shrugged indifferently as I took a bite. The tart, crisp apple made my mouth water and I devoured more than half of it before speaking again. “I take it you knew my birth parents, then?”

His eyes were guarded and his jaw clenched as he answered, “In a way.”

He knew them all right.

Something had happened between them and Crawford had been on the losing side, “They left me in the rain to die, what’d they do to you?”

One corner of his mouth tugged upwards at my sarcasm, “No love lost there, hmm?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I lowered the apple and spoke distinctly. “What did my parents do to you that you think kidnapping me will solve?”

“What haven’t they done?” He spat, his eyes cold as ice as he crossed the room to me. I backed up and bumped into another of his bulletin boards. Crawford brought his face in close to mine, making me flinch. “They’ve taken everything, everything, away from me. They ruined my life!”

His gaze suddenly latched onto something on the cork board beside me and he took a step to my left. I quickly moved away from him, looking to see what had caught his eye.

It was a photograph.

The whole board was covered in them, all neatly spaced in rows. An iron band tightened around my chest as I realized my whole entire family was there. All of them, even our golden retriever Rudy had his own print. My eyes moved from one 4x6 to the next as something dawned on me.

Not one of them was looking at the camera.

They were surveillance photos.

I felt like I was going to be sick as I realized he had been watching us for years. All of these photos were taken in public places: the farmer’s market Granny loved, South Shore Plaza, the parking lot outside the clinic mom worked at, even some from one of dance competitions.

There were older photos pinned up too. Square black and white ones with dates from the 1940s, hand tinted portraits of solemn looking men and women, even a few faded color prints from what I guessed was the sixties.

A large print of a bride and groom smiled at me in smartly tailored clothing. “Our wedding - March 10th, 1938” was printed neatly on the white border of the photograph. I didn’t recognize them from the thick family album Granny kept in her bureau, but, yet, something seemed eerily familiar.

Crawford was reverently stroking a photograph of a little girl eating an ice cream cone at the beach.

I could see it clearly from where I stood, although it was on the other end of the board. The resemblance to me was uncanny and I would have sworn it was me if I hadn’t noticed the date stamped in the corner.

July 4th, 1956.

She couldn’t be my mother, she’d be nearly seventy by now.

“Who is that?” I asked, “My grandmother?”

Not Granny, but my birth grandmother.

What is she like? Or was she like? Is she still living? Does she know I exist?

His lips morphed into a strange sort of smile. Not plotting and calculated like Jasper’s, but somehow wistful and tender. It looked completely out of place on the man who had just shoved me against a wall. “No, but she is related to you.”

“How? What’s her name?” I asked.

He answered simply, “Brianna.”

You have got to be kidding me, not this load of crap again.

“Don’t tell me,” I exploded, throwing the apple at his head. He ducked just in time and it bounced off a photograph of a ruined castle with the name Leoch printed under it, “She’s the brave and daring Princess Brianna who flees to the east to escape from the evil dragon Randall with her noble knight Sir Roger? Of course, she is! Oh, and she’s also Queen Claire’s daughter, which makes me her sister? Because, you know, I’m the treasured lost princess who is going to save the kingdom, right?”

Crawford stared at me, wide eyed. “What?”

“Granny’s bedtime story. You obviously think that it’s true.” I fumed.

“This thing?” He walked over to the table and came back with a small bound book.

Uncle Mike convinced Granny to write the fairy tale down when he heard it. He’d used his contacts at the university to get it printed and Auntie Tiff had illustrated it. There had only been three copies made. I had one, Uncle Mike had one, and Granny had the other safely tucked away for my children to read someday.

My mouth was suddenly dry. Photos taken in a public place was one thing, but this was entirely another. “How did you get this?”

He shrugged but didn’t answer, instead commenting “The names are right, but the old lady took a few creative liberties. I find it funny that she made me into a dragon.”

“Wait, you’re Randall?”

“It’s complicated,” he answered and walked away from me.

“Its complicated? I get kidnapped on the basis of a completely made up story, that you claim to be the bad guy in, and all you’ll tell me is that its complicated?“ I shouted.

He didn’t look at me, but replied, “I’m not the bad guy.”

I picked the forgotten apple up off the floor and hurled it at him. It bounced off the top of his head with a satisfying thud as I screeched, “Says the man who abducted me!”

“Enough!” He commanded as he spun around. “There are some things you won’t understand until we get there. Until then, nothing I say will make any sense.”

I crossed my arms and leveled him with the deadliest look I could manage, “And just were are we going?”

It must have worked, because he squirmed as he answered, “The past.”

…

They left me alone in the shack. I couldn’t believe it. They were all standing right outside the door, so I knew I couldn’t make a run for it out the lone window, but I could do something.

Digging hastily in my backpack, I grabbed hold of my phone and pulled it out. One bar of service. I thanked my lucky stars that I even had that much and called Luke.

The phone rang once… twice… three times… what if he didn’t pick up?

Suddenly, I could hear his voice say my name thru the static. “Julia? Sweetie, is that you?”

“Luke?”

Relief washed over me as he asked me a thousand questions at once, “Are you alright? Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m ok,” I struggled to keep my voice from being heard and pinched myself to keep from crying as I tried to give him as much information as I possibly could. “We drove for a really long time and now I’m in the woods. I think we’re in North Carolina. One guy’s name is Crawford, but I don’t know—”

Just as I spoke his name, he burst thru the door and grabbed the phone from my ear He glared at me and his henchmen in turn as he exclaimed, “You didn’t check her bag?”

Horace, Jasper, and Cruella all tried to explain at the same time in a jumbled mess of excuses. Crawford motioned for them to be quiet as he hit the speakerphone button, an unfamiliar voice sounding incredibly loud in the now silent shack.

“Who am I speaking to?”

Crawford gave me a sickening smile and answered into the phone, “I could ask the same of you.”

Jasper suddenly grabbed hold of me and shoved me into a seated position on one of the chairs.

“Hey! That hurt!” I shouted, more so the man on the phone could hear me than in actual pain. Jasper clamped his hand hard over my mouth and squeezed tight. I tried to scream, but only a muffled sound escaped his vice-like grip.

“You don’t know the meaning of that word, girl,” he hissed in my ear.

“This is Special Agent Gibbs,” the voice spoke. Gibbs. Wasn’t he the agent Luke always talked about? The man was something of a god in his eyes. “What are your demands?”

“Who said I was demanding anything?” Crawford strolled about the room like it was a casual Sunday walk about the park.

Horace laughed, “Good one, boss!”

The sly smile disappeared off of Crawford’s face as he rounded on the portly man, giving him an uppercut that knocked him to the ground.

“I have everything I want!” he shouted into the phone and forcibly hung up, throwing the object to the ground.

He turned to me and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He yanked my head backwards as he shoved his face in mine, “You try something like that again and I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Kill me? You obviously need me alive,” I spit in his face, forcing a smug smile.

“You think this is funny?” He demanded, smacking me full across the face.

My head pulled to the side with the force of it and I cried out involuntarily. His ring had left burning line across my cheekbone. I lifted my hand to my face, my fingers wet with blood as he added, “Nothing about what your parents did to me is funny!”

…

I noticed the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle as they shoved me out of the rickety cabin door. The moon was full and remarkably bright, casting everything into eerie shadows. They had bound my hands in front of me, making me feel every bit like the captive that I was. It was ridiculously cold and our hurried movements did little to warm me.

We didn’t seem to be following a trail of any sort, just stumbling behind Crawford as he led the way with a GPS map on his phone and a flashlight. I could see a red blinking dot that must be where we were going. They wouldn’t tell me much about where or what we were headed to, save that the site was rumored to be supernatural like Craigh na Dun.

Just my luck, I thought for the thousandth time today, I’ve been abducted by a psychopath.

While I wasn’t far from the standing stones of Craigh na Dun when mom and I lived in Scotland, I’d never been there myself. Granny had told me all sorts of tales about the fairy-hill, but I’d never believed them to be true. I took them for what they were: folk tales that, at some point in time, were based in real life events but were now so over exaggerated that they held little resemblance to the truth.

Our leader suddenly turned to the left and began to climb up a steep embankment. Unable to grab onto branches and rocks like the rest of them, I constantly slid back down the hill. Horace pushed me upwards from behind, grumbling the whole way to the top. The wind was stronger up here and it made a whistling sound in the bare trees.

Something else was different. There was a strange vibrating feeling surging thru the air. It pulsated thru my bones like one of those massage chairs. I didn’t like it one bit.

“Stop,” I insisted, escaping Horace’s grasp and moving towards Crawford… or Randall. Whoever he was. “Why are we here?”

“To find your parents,” he answered without looking at me.

I peered uneasily around the clearing. Just in front of me stood a ring of tall stones with the biggest in the middle of the circle. “Where are they?” I asked, worried they’d suddenly pop out at me from behind one of them.

He pulled me into the circle and looked down with a sickening grin, “On the other side of the stones.”

“Let me go!” I shouted, trying to back out of the circle. My skin tingled and a loud humming sound now accompanied the overwhelming vibrating sensation. Whatever it was was stronger inside the ring of stones.

His hand tightened on my arm as he growled, “Not a chance. You’re the only way I can get thru the blasted thing.”

“Thru that?” I asked incredulously, and then realized we stood some three feet away from the center stone. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“I wish I were,” he commented and took a step towards it.

I dug in my heels, almost sitting down in my effort to halt all forward progress. Crawford cursed as he lifted me off the ground by my upper arms. He set me down roughly mere inches from the stone and crouched down low behind me, almost as if he were hiding from something.

Hiding from what? What would happen if I touched it?

I had no idea and I did not want to find out.

Slamming my head back as far and as hard as I could, I connected with Crawford’s nose. He let go of me and fell to the ground. I turned to run, but before I could get out of his reach, he grabbed hold of my foot. I stumbled and fell forwards, throwing my bound hands out in front of me to keep from falling on my face.

Something smooth and cold brushed against my fingertips as the world suddenly turned upside down.

…

I woke sometime later, face down in the dirt. Light was beginning to paint the sky in the east as I scrambled to my feet. Turning wildly about, I found myself alone in the stone circle.

Where had everyone gone?

I had no idea where I was. A little voice in my head reminded me that if I was lost, I should stay put so that I would be easier to find.

Except, I didn’t want to be found. Not by Crawford and his henchmen anyway. Deciding to leave the circle in the opposite direction that I had come, I was careful not to make a whole lot of sound as I slowly made my way thru the woods.

Climbing over fallen logs and slippery boulders was hard when you had your hands tied. I hid behind a large oak as I sat down to try to get out of my shackles. All I accomplished was making my wrists raw and the knots tighter.

Giving that up, I continued on. I didn’t have any plans of where I was trying to go and I realized that all I was doing was getting myself lost. If I had to choose between being lost in the woods and held captive by Crawford and his goons, I’d be lost any day.

My thoughts were occupied with calculating how long I could manage on the snacks in my backpack and I didn’t notice the terrain begin to change. Losing my footing on wet leaves, I landed hard on my butt and began to slide down an embankment at an alarming speed. I tumbled end over end as I tried to catch hold of something to stop me. A sickening popping noise came from my left shoulder as my arm twisted in a way it was not intended to move, making me cry out in pain.

I came to a sudden and complete stop against a large tree and the world slowly began to stop spinning. I tried to take stock of my injuries as I lay on the wet ground, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching.

Crawford.

Scrambling to my feet and wincing, I desperately looked for a place to hide. I wasn’t sure if it would do any good, as I probably made enough noise to wake the dead in my descent, but made my way over to a fallen log as fast as I could. I laid down on my back on the other side and tried to slow my breathing. My shoulder radiated pain with every movement, making me bite my lip to keep from crying out.

The footsteps grew closer and I held my breath.

“I willna hurt ye,” a voice coaxed gently, “if tha’s wha’ ye fear.”

I peered hesitantly over the log and found myself face to face with a huge redheaded man who was crouching low to the ground, his eyes alight with curiosity and concern. His face softened as he took in my haphazard appearance and I thought maybe he would be a friend instead of a foe. I could use a friend right about now.

“Hi,” I whispered.

“Hello,” he whispered back with a smile.

Relief washed over me as I realized I was finally safe.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #a child of the stones au #part three chapter one #wandering in the wood

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tankcupcakes · 8 years ago

Text

Thunder Road - Part Two

Summary: Takes place directly at the end of 5x13, The Song Remains the Same – in which Team Free Will is stuck in 1978. Characters: This is a third person story that will follow Dean, though there is plenty of Sam as well, Castiel, OFC Warnings: Language and marijuana use for the whole story Word Count: 3,300

A/N: I took some creative liberties with time travel here, so just roll with me. This is also chock-full of references to music in the 60’s and 70’s – there will be a companion Spotify playlist when the story is complete. No beta, but was brainstormed with and read over by my dear @chelsea072498 I don’t own any of the gifs I will be using and I don’t know where they originated, by would be happy to credit if anyone knows who made them.

Part One Part Three

Master List

April, 1978 Cedar Rapids, Iowa

Midwest weather was beautiful. The spring and autumn never lasted long, but when they were in full swing - man, there was nothing like it. It was early afternoon and Dean had gone about an hour south to check on the price of some lumber in another town. He was about halfway through his journey back when a loud pop! startled him and it was quickly apparent that he had blown a tire as a dull thunk-ing sound continued. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, pulling to the side of the road. Climbing out of the car, he opened the trunk and swore loudly when he realized that he had neglected to put his set of tools back inside. Now what?

It was times like this that he really missed the present - a cellphone would be pretty helpful right about now. He looked up and down the practically deserted highway and sighed. Hoping that maybe he had a jack hidden somewhere in there, he began to rummage through the trunk to no avail. A car honked somewhere behind him and he looked up to see that an old Buick had pulled up beside him, windows rolled down, Bruce Springsteen floating from the stereo. The highway’s jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive, Everyone’s out on the run tonight, but there’s no place left to hide

“Need a hand?” the woman inside called, and he took a couple of steps toward her. He could tell as soon as she opened her mouth that she wasn’t from Iowa, she spoke with a slow southern accent. She wore sunglasses with round white frames, stark contrast to her long, chocolate-colored hair. Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness, I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul…

He bit back a smartass comment - who knew when someone else might come along? “Well, I don’t know - you wouldn’t happen to have a lug wrench in there, would ya?” He noticed too late that there was still a sarcastic note to his voice. She raised one eyebrow at him, a smirk on her face as she turned down the music. “Oh, so you don’t think I have tools because I’m a woman?” Shit. “No! No, not because you’re a woman…” he stopped, a sheepish grin making its way to his face, and he shook his head. “Actually, yes - sorry, that was an asshole assumption. Do you…?” “No,” she answered, laughing loudly - a contagious sound. “But, I can give you a lift.” Oh honey, tramps like us, Baby, we were born to run He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he considered it briefly, before nodding. “Yeah, okay.” Pulling open the passenger door, he climbed in, a little wary but mostly relieved. “Where to?” she asked. He thought about it for a second, knowing that Sam was probably at work, and he would need his car to get back to his own to replace the tire. “You know the Dusty Bookshelf, in Cedar Rapids?” he replied and she nodded. “Great, thanks for the ride.” “No problem,” she said, shifting her car into drive as they began down the road. “Springsteen, huh?” he commented after a moment, leaning back in his seat. “Yes,” she answered emphatically, a smile on her face. “I love him.” “I can get behind The Boss,” he said with a grin as she laughed again. “I’m Dean, by the way.” “Evelyn. Eve - or Evie.” “Nice to meet you, Evie,” he replied. “Not that I’m complaining, but didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strange men in your car?” “Nope,” she answered, another smirk on her face. She reached into her center console and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lifting a neatly rolled joint from it. God, he loved the 70’s. “You wanna light that up for me?” she asked, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding the spliff toward him. “Gladly,” he said, an almost childlike grin on his face as he took it from her and did just that. The drive back to Cedar Rapids was about thirty minutes, and the weed had Dean feeling chatty. “So, where are you from?” he inquired. “Not here, I assume.” “Right outside of Savannah,” she answered, “but, I’ve been here just shy of 12 years now. You?” “Kansas,” he replied, internally scolding himself almost immediately for telling her the truth. Not that it really mattered, anyway - here, he wasn’t even born yet. “You’re not too far from home.” “Yeah, just needed a little change of scenery, I guess.” “I feel you,” she said, nodding. He decided it would be in his best interest not to say much more - he was still making inappropriate references as he acclimated himself to this time period. Instead, they listened to music with the windows rolled down on the near empty highway, the breeze surprisingly beautiful for an early spring wind. Dean caught himself nodding his head in time to the music, his foot tapping as well. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips - he felt good, really good for the first time in years. He would have to invest in some cassette tapes for his car - one of the few things he would allow himself to do in the way of making a home here in Iowa. He had gotten the clothes more out of necessity than wanting to buy more appropriate things - all he and Sam had were the clothes on their backs. There was no attempt to make the hotel room they were renting any cozier, but there was a growing pile of books on the table that Sam had brought home after work. The car stopped and Dean jolted a little - he hadn’t even realized they weren’t on the highway anymore. “This is you, right?” Eve asked, sunglasses sliding off as she peered out his window. She hung them on the collar of her shirt, and he could see now that her eyes were a dark blue. “Yeah,” he replied, nodding. “Listen, thanks again for the ride - I really appreciate it. Can I give you gas money or anything?” He was sure he had a few bills in his wallet at least. She shook her head. “No, we’re square.” Dean chuckled with a shrug. “If you’re sure.” He climbed out of the car and after he closed the door behind him, he leaned back through the open window. “You live around here?” Eve smiled and nodded her head. “I do.” “Maybe I’ll see you around, then.” “Yeah, maybe you will,” she replied with a wink. He couldn’t help but grin in response, and she replaced her sunglasses as he took a step back from the car. He patted the roof a couple times and she pulled away from the curb and took off down the street, music playing loudly once more. Still smiling a little to himself, Dean opened the front door to the bookstore, greeted with the jingling of the bell attached to it. Sam looked over from the shelf he was stocking and tilted his head a little. “Hey man, everything okay?” “Hmm? Oh, yeah, everything’s fine, I blew a tire on highway 30 and had forgotten to put my tools back in my car, so I had to get a ride. Wanna swing over there later so I can fix it?” “Sure, my shift ends in about an hour,” he said, placing more books on the shelf. “We can go right after that.” Dean nodded and took a seat in one of the many chairs in the store, drumming his fingers absently on the arm of it. The only sound in the otherwise empty store was the rustling of Sam pulling and pushing books to and from the many rows of bookshelves, but after several moments of silence, he spoke again. “Dean, you sure you’re okay? You’re pretty quiet.” “Sam, honestly - I am awesome. I feel great. I feel… groovy.” Sam gave him a deadpan stare. “You feel ‘groovy’?” he repeated. “Yeah - I think I totally get where that word came from now.” Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Dean - are you stoned?” Dean gave him an offended look and thought about feigning shock, but instead, he scoffed. “Sam, it’s 1978 - of course I’m stoned.” Letting out a loud laugh, Sam grinned and shook his head, but said nothing else.

Five days later was the fifth day in a row that he had woken up with that goddamn Bruce Springsteen stuck in his head. He hummed it in the shower, heard it while he drank his coffee. There was a record store called the Love Garden a couple blocks from the bookstore, he’d driven past it several times, and it was his first stop today, his day off. As he stepped inside the shop, he heard the Temptations’ Papa Was a Rolling Stone fade out and David Bowie’s Golden Years begin to play. He felt overwhelmingly, and not for the first time, like he belonged here. Iowa, 1978.

He shook his head, a smile creeping on his face at the absurdity of it all - but there was a shadow in the back of his mind, desperately trying to remind him not to get too comfortable. He pushed it further back.

“Hey, brother,” a young man with long hair and a goatee called from the behind the counter. “Can I help you find anything?” “Thanks, man - I’m just browsing,” Dean answered, wandering between the rows of records. “Right on, let me know if you change your mind,” he replied, going back to fiddling with a broken record player. After winding in and out of the records, he found the cassette section and began casually scanning through them. There was a lot of disco and he rolled his eyes - there was something he could do without. He started plucking the interesting tapes and before he realized it, he had a stack of ten. Deciding to stop himself before he got too out of hand, he headed to the checkout. “Find everything alright, man?” the guy with the goatee asked, and Dean nodded. He laid them all out on the counter - Creedence, Led Zeppelin, the Doors, Joe Walsh, Bruce… - and Goatee started writing them up for him. Pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, Dean flipped through the dollar bills there, hearing a door open as someone else joined Goatee from the back room. “I heard that’s a good one,” a Georgia drawl said, a finger tapping the Born to Run deck. Mouth immediately dry, Dean froze and shifted his gaze to the familiar face, a crooked smile on his own. “Yeah, I heard that too. How you doing, Evie?” “Oh, just living the dream, Dean,” she replied, leaning on her elbows with a lazy smile. “You work here?” he asked, though the answer to that was already apparent with her behind the counter. She nodded. “Hey, any friend of Evie’s is a friend of mine,” Goatee said, reaching a hand out to Dean, who shook it. “Roger, this is Dean,” Eve said, gesturing between the two of them with her index finger. “Dean, that’s Roger.” “Nice to meet you,” Dean said, offering a polite smile. “You too, man - I’m gonna give you a discount…” He started scribbling on the receipt. “Oh, no - you don’t have to do that,” Dean said, shaking his head. “I’m happy to -” “I insist,” Roger replied, not looking up from the paper he was scratching on. Dean looked back up at Eve, shrugging. “I won’t argue with you, I guess.” She smiled and shrugged back in response. Shifting weight from one foot to the other, Dean glanced briefly around the room and then back at Eve, who still had her gaze fixed on him. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling his stomach flip over as he opened his mouth to speak. “Listen, I, uh - I don’t want to be too forward or anything, but…” Why was he hesitating? He had asked his fair share of women on dates. She made him feel something different. At this point, Roger glanced up at him and a crooked smile was spreading across Evie’s face. “No, that’s okay,” she said, crossing her arms, her smile growing bigger. “Go ahead, ask me out.” He chuckled. “Okay, would you wanna have dinner with me?” “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Yeah, that would be nice.” “Great,” he replied, wearing a smile of his own now. “You free tonight?” “I get off at 6, if you wanna swing by here?” “I’ll see you then,” he answered, nodding. Roger, who had watched this entire exchange with a wide grin, handed Dean his cassettes in a bag. “Don’t have her out too late.” “Alright, Roger, can it,” Eve said, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes. “I’ll see you tonight, Dean.” = Dean had putted around town for a few hours after that, then went back to the motel to shower and get ready. When he pulled up to the curb outside the record store, Eve was already sitting outside, smoking a cigarette on the bench. He rolled his window down, calling out, “Am I late?” She shook her head, stubbing her cigarette out on the ground before standing and walking over to the car. “Right on time,” she replied, opening the door and taking a seat. “So, Roger wanted me to tell you that he’s in a Led Zeppelin cover band and they’re playing tonight, if we wanted to go after dinner,” she said with a laugh. “I think he’s desperate for audience members.” Dean chuckled and nodded. “Sure, we can do that - I love Zeppelin.” “I had a feeling you might,” she answered, winking at him. “His friend David sounds just like Robert Plant, they’re actually pretty good.” “I guess I’ll have to hear it for myself,” he replied with a grin, turning into the downtown area. “Hungry?” “Starving. Did you have a place in mind?” He didn’t really, so after a brief discussion, they ended up at a bar and grill - burgers in front of both of them, immersed in conversation. She was 27 - her father had died at war when she was young and her mother remarried about a decade later, prompting the move to Iowa. She had a teenaged sister, Kate, who lived with Eve’s mom and stepdad a few towns over. She wasn’t what he would call a hippie, but he had a sneaking suspicion her mother was - Eve was very much a product of the flower child age.

“I like your pendant, necklace thing,” Dean said, gesturing to his own neck. “Is it a marble…?” It kind of looked like it had been one once, it was blue glass with swirls of gold, but it was smashed almost flat. “Oh!” she said, laughing as her hand closed around it. “Yeah, it is a marble - it’s kind of silly, actually. When I was kid, back home my grandpa owned a marble factory. I was watching him one day and accidentally dropped a heavy book on some of the marbles that weren’t cool yet. Ruined the lot of them, in case you couldn’t tell.” She laughed again. “He made one into a necklace for me and I never took it off.”

He smiled back at her as he listened.

She seemed so authentic when she spoke, obviously comfortable with herself, and Dean felt as though she were a magnet.

He had never met anyone like her, and the way she talked compelled him to tell her about himself as well. He told her about his life, as close to the truth as possible. That his mother had died in a fire, his father after a car accident - all the facts without the supernatural details. After they were done eating, they walked down the main street through town to the bar that Roger and his band were playing. A deep bass resonated in Dean’s chest as they stepped inside, the music already pouring through the speakers. If it keeps on rainin’, the levee’s goin’ to break When the levee breaks, I’ll have no place to stay Eve let out an emphatic groan, clutching her chest. “This is my favorite Zeppelin song.” Dean nodded in agreement, the two of them ordering drinks and taking a seat at a table in the half full bar. “Do you have a favorite?” she asked, speaking loudly above the music. “It’s a tie,” he called back, leaning closer, “between Ramble On and Travellin’ Riverside Blues.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t think I know that one - which album was it on?” Dean quickly realized the song he was talking about hadn’t been released on an album yet and he gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, you know what? I’m thinking of a live cover I heard them do - it’s an old song from the 30’s.” Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, you’ve seen them in concert? Was it last summer?” “Yes,” Dean lied quickly, nodding. “Yeah, last summer - it was far out.” Smooth. She laughed and nodded enthusiastically. “I bet!” They spent the next two hours singing and laughing themselves hoarse from their table, now several drinks in. The slow guitar strumming signaled the beginning of another one of Dean’s favorites, and he leaned his chin in his palm, elbow on the table. He watched her sitting across from him in the dimly lit bar as she lit a cigarette, a lazy smile on her face as she mouthed the words. Made up my mind to make a new start, Going to California with an achin’ in my heart Someone told me there’s a girl out there, With love in her eyes and flowers in her hair “If I had to pick a third favorite, this would be it,” he said, voice gravelly as he spoke above the music. She nodded. The sea was red and the sky was gray, Wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today When the song ended, the band took a break before their second set and Dean’s ears were ringing in the sudden silence. “You know, I gotta tell you, sweetheart - I am having a great time tonight,” he said, leaning back in his chair. There was no posturing with her, and she would’ve seen right through it anyway. Something about her made him want to be genuine, so he said what he felt. “Is it me or Led Zeppelin?” she asked with a smirk and he laughed. “Can it be both?” She grinned. “Absolutely.” It was so normal, he couldn’t wrap his head all the way around it. Dinner, music, conversation. He sat forward again. “I have to be honest, I - I’m not really sure how long I’m going to be here, and when I leave, I won’t be back… but, I think you’re a lot of fun and I’d like to see you again.” “Sure, that would be great,” she answered with a smile. “And hey, nothing lasts forever anyway, right?” She winked. He smirked back. “I will drink to that.” They clinked their beer bottles together and Dean finished the last of his drink. =

@chelsea072498 @frenchybell @percywinchester27

#spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester

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