#then i got her to sit on the back of the rocking recliner like our usual night routine!!!

[queer-vampire]

[pbnbucks]

paige x nika x reader

word count : 638

warnings : a bit suggestive, sexual intentions.

summary : “ you met ur wbb player gf and to help motivate her, before a game you would give her a sexy polaroid pic of you and you bet your ass she plays better bc of it, considers it her lucky charm at this point” “they would trade cards or would challenge each other during training for their top picks of the sexy polaroids. treating them like the best playing cards ever. if you all live together, the polaroids are considered barter to get out of chores 😝🤭”

“okay but if i beat you in rock paper scissors i got both of theese and all your polaroids” paige hesitated but of course she was cocky and wouldnt let nika think she won so she agreed. “okay but if i win i get all your polaroids and the ones for the rest of your month” nika of course agrees and grabs the ball. theese werenf normal polaroids they where arguing over, they where polaroids of you naked all fucked out on your guys shared bed. your most intimate moments together captured for them. they worshipped those pictures it was a ritual. before each game they would grab their collection and mesmerize them.

Nika goes up to paige and gives her a quick kiss “sorry babe but id like my polaroids now” Paiges face is all red and shes pissed. she had just lost her 1v1 against nika over things she valued most “thats not even fair im not giving you them” and of course nika dosent listen and snatches paiges collection from her. you unlock the door to your guys shared apartment and you find paige on top of nika with nika in a headlock by the blonde and they still havent noticed you with them being caught in the moment of their bickering. “what the fuck are yall doing” their heads snap to look at you in shock. paige was the first to speak “she stole my polaroids” nika scoffs at the stupid blonde “dont lie to her” instead you loose your patience and put an end to their stupid fued “y’all better sit y’all’s lil asses on the couch right now” they quickly find the butts to a seat as you dramatically put your purse and water bottle on the counter and take your shoes off making your way to the living room and sitting down on the recliner across from them. “now somebody explain whats going on and why yall are acting like barbarians” paige sits their like a baby pouting as nika speaks up “basically…”

time skip

the innocent blonde knocks on the bathroom door and you tell her to come in, she goes up behind you and kisses your neck as she wines “she took all the polaroids baby tell her to give them back” your over all of their bickering that went on from the time you got home that you had to witness “awww is mommy’s princess sad now?” you say to her in a baby voice that pisses her off. she immediately turns around trying to walk out before you stop her “okay okay im sorry but what do you want me to do about it, you lost them yourself baby” she goes to sit on the counter as she makes her demands “i want you to get my polaroids back from nika because you love me and if you don’t ill never get out of bed again.” you make sure to noticeably glare hard at her “im not doing that” she crosses her arms and looks the other way “then you don’t love me” she sighs and waits for me to give in “why cant i just take new ones princess and you get to choose what you want, how does that sound princess?” she thinks about it for a good minute “okay fine i guess but nika isn’t sleeping with us tonight” you stop dead in your tracks grabbing her arm “don’t push it paige” she pouts but apologizes “go to our room ill go get the camera sexy” you throw you shoe at her for the annoying nickname she gave you when nika calls you it but she was unfazed by it so you open the door to your room and strip your day clothes off and lay on the bed waiting for your sweet girl.

[calumfmu]

omg stop that (loser)step dad!steve blurb was so cute u should do one where like reader and steve have a little baby girl and the boys are like "😒😒😒..." but once she's born, she's got them wrapped around her tiny finger LOL like they're completely enamoured by her once they see her

thank you babbyyyy <3 hope you enjoyed this one. it's a bit on the shorter side (well for me), but i'm glad that you enjoyed the first part. No cw for now, just cuteness. 901 words

She was beautiful. Her tiny fingers pressed to her chest, body curled up in that cute position newborns make, a soft towel wrapped around her as Steve rocked her in his arms. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, wetness dampening his lashes as he whispered to her.

"Hi, babygirl," he smiled, gently running a finger over her head. She had little strands of dark hair there, color mirroring his own. You sat on the hospital bed, exhaustion coursing through your veins, yet a small smile sitting on your lips.

They looked perfect there together, father and daughter. Steve was meant for this, you could tell. In this moment, you felt a similar feeling to your birth with your other two sons, like life made sense.

There was a knock on the door, it creaking open to reveal the nurse, head popping through.

"Harrington?" She smiled, voice low as she took notice of the sleeping baby in your husband's arms. The both of you looked towards her, eyes crinkling with the happy emotions you felt. "I have some people who want to meet the little girl."

She stepped into frame, your sons piling in. Your eldest son had his serious look on his face, lips pressed together as he looked bored. Your youngest was in a similar fashion, trying his hardest to mimic his brother, yet you could see right through the two of them. The nurse left the four (and a half) of you alone, closing the door behind her with a soft shut.

"Hey you guys," you whispered, voice raspy as you reclined. Your eldest looked concerned at you winced, shifting in your bed.

"Ma, you okay?" He said, eyes wide. Nodding, you smiled, opening up your arms as they both came to your side, hugging you. Steve stood watching you, rocking with his body as his eyes kept flitting back on your daughter in his arms.

"You want to meet her?" You asked, smiling as they both nodded. They tried keeping serious expressions, but you could see it in their eyes, they were curious. Your youngest ran over to Steve, peering over him as he caught sight of her. Immediately, he melted, mouth parting open in shock as she made a small noise, face scrunching up.

"She's so small," he whispered, placing a light touch on her blanket-covered body. Steve laughed, nodding in agreement. "Can-can I hold her?"

"Yeah, buddy," Steve said, head nodding over to the chair in the corner of the room. "Just gotta sit down first, and I'll hand her over."

He complied, running over to plop down, arms wide open. Steve placed her in his arms, instructing him on how to hold his arms out. The two of them were beaming, sharing their thoughts on how she looked, your son saying she looked like him if anything. Steve hovered over him, smiling, but you could see that protectiveness already kicking in, his eyes watching like a hawk at every movement your son made.

You drew your gaze away from them, looking at your oldest who stood awkwardly, a few feet away from the bed, gaze stuck on the baby. He kept looking at Steve too, suspicion on his face.

"You want to hold her too, sweetie?" Apprehension covered your voice, not sure how to deal with him when it came to this. It had been a year and a half since you and Steve were married, yet he was still wary of the man he called a 'stranger in 'our' home'. There was nothing you could've done or said that would have made him accept Steve faster, figuring that it would work itself out on its own. It hurt you, but it was your normal now.

"Ah, I think I'm good," he nodded, but still kept his eyes on her. He gasped when his little brother shifted his elbow, her body dipping a little bit. "Watch your elbow--Jesus Christ, man."

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. You bit back a smile at the outburst, knowing that he was in the same boat as all of you--smitten over this little girl who was not even aware of the world yet, let alone all of you.

"Babe, go hold her," you whispered, nodding your head at him. He looked at you, eyes wide. "It's okay."

Crossing the room, he maneuvered her out of the younger boy's arms, gripping her firmly. She rested against his shoulder, a small cry of a noise leaving her mouth. He looked up at Steve, fear on his face. "Is that--was that normal? Did I hurt her?"

Steve shook his head, leaning into him as he placed a hand on his shoulder. He didn't complain at the touch, the first time that has happened. Hope bubbled at your chest, your boys finally all being connected.

The young boy in the chair kicked his feet, impatience pulling at him. "Okay, you're done! You're taking too long, my turn now!"

"Shut it, I've only held her for, like, 6 seconds!"

"That's not fair! Steve! Tell him!" He cried out, pouting exaggeratedly.

"Boys relax! She'll be here a while, there's plenty of time," Steve laughed, holding his hands out in front of him. They quieted down, eyes returning to rest on her. Your heart felt full, grateful for this little bundle that graced your world, finally bringing your family together.

Masterlist! Inbox and requests are open! <3

[krillford]

Mm yes, have I ever told you lads of my great encounter with the fearsome Polybear? No? Well what lucky chaps you are FOR I SHALL REGALE YOU!!!

∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆

One June morning I was taking a stroll in my backyard, THE GREAT OUTDOORS, when I stumbled myself upon some kind of,,,, cave shaped enclosure.

Yes, quite damp, dull, the decor was atrocious.

I decided to have a word with the homeowner, because as a fellow dweller of the systems and friend to the strange Glowing Rock Goblins of the South, I too am an enthusiast of cavernous constitutions!

There, sitting on upholstery made of the finest cut of shale, stood the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Her eyes were of light burgundy, and so were her other eyes. She had fur as matted as my lodging's leopard hide carpet. And she had the voice of 10 burly men. Yes, yes, she was quite a dream.

I approached her. "Good lady of the Mountain Caves, I beseech you! Your beauty knows no bounds, and yet, I look around at your place of dwelling and I ask of you. Do you not deserve better? Do you not deserve a home as fine as yourself?"

She roared at me, a hundred and fifty decibels of raw power.

Can you imagine it dear boy? It's as if the gates of hell revealed an angel.

One of her many heads spat out a head of cod. Enchanting.

We had that very same cod on a candlelit dinner, you know. She was a fiend, wrestled like one too. She had the grace of a bear and the strength of perhaps 2 bears. Or maybe 4. You know I was never quite sure how many bears she was.

She and I, we were something of a summer romahnce. Short lived, but magical. She truly was the one who got away.

Three days after we met I was trying to teach her how to ride a horse, you see, to drive. The constable once halted us on our pleasant ride, questioning our afternoon affair.

AFFAIR? WHAT AFFAIR. No affair here sir, no sirree. You see this beautiful specimen is simply my Smelling Bear. She smells for me. Quite important on leisurely horseback rides.

At sunset, I thought to myself, as we roasted the gnome she caught on firewood. Nyes.... She is the one. But, sadly, it was not to be.

My second wife Delilah entered this idyllic scene and SWOOPED IN like a desert eagle! She started pecking at my multiheaded mistress! Gouged out an eye maybe! Perhaps even ATE one! What a woman!!!!

The great grizzly jezebel retreated onto my stallion, galloping away, facing me as her many mouthed scream echoed into the ravine. I never even got to say goodbye.

I faced my wife, how valiantly she fought for my honor! For my love! Perhaps she... Is the one? I certainly thought so on our wedding day. Perhaps the love petered out when she started suggesting we move South.

But oh! How the passion IGNITED that night! Her wondrous wings flapping in the sunset. I begged for her to take me back!!!!! We were fated! She and I, till the end of eternity! Or at least her lifespan!

Looking back now, I do not blame her for filing that restraining order. And as mayor, I had to sign it! You could never say ol Trembley isn't a gentleman.

and so, our wenchless hero trodded, for days on end, till he reached the peak of the mountain. I entered the cave that held so many memories, so much love and hope... For 3 days.

I reclined on that damned stony davenport where I first met my caniform casanova.

I mused to myself then, You know, this grisly grizzly grotto isn't so bad.

A bookshelf here, a macaroni maker there. Yes... Yes...

That was when I invented the man cave.

∆ ∆ ∆ ∆ ∆

He got swole 150 years later

[prism-empurress]

isat next gen au, chapter 2

mirasif qpr real ---

A few peaceful nights later, Celeste woke up crying. Siffrin tiredly got out of his warm bed and immediately picked her up into his arms. “Ssshhh, ssshhhh.” He whispered, rocking her slightly. “It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re safe, sweetheart.” Those were the very same words Isabeau spoke to comfort them whenever they awoke from a nightmare. Nightmares pertaining to the loops. But Celeste kept wailing. When going “sshhh” didn’t work, Siffrin cleaned her up, changed her clothes and blankets, and prepared a warm bottle for her. He sat in the recliner in the living room, feeding his little girl, rocking gently. “Was it a bad dream, little star?” He whispered to her as she suckled, taking a tissue and lightly wiping her face. “It’s okay. Nightmares aren’t real.”

Everybody said that to Siffrin. They even repeated it to themself, hoping it’d settle into their mind and they’d believe it. But there still came many days when Siffrin saw those lightless walls as he endlessly trudged onwards.

Celeste continued nursing from her bottle while Siffrin was lost in thought. Gentle moonlight shone through one of the windows in the living room, and through it, Siffrin saw a clear, starry sky. “Let me show you something, okay?” Siffrin kissed Celeste on the head, getting up from the recliner. The bottle was emptied, Celeste was burped, and Siffrin took her outside in the cool night air. He forgot to grab his cloak, but at least the little one was warm and snug in her lightless blanket.

Siffrin held Celeste up, “Look up, sweetheart. Do you see those twinklies in the sky?”

The little girl babbled, hands reaching for the sky.

“Those are stars. They’re veeery far away.” He said, smiling. “But they burn so brightly that we can see them from here, on our planet.”

“There’s a lot of them, too. More than anybody can count or keep track of. These aren’t even all of them.” Siffrin lightly stroked the curious girl’s cheek. “They’re celestial bodies; that’s where your name comes from.”

“And from other planets, this planet is a star on their skies, too!” Siffrin gazed solemnly at the dark sky, holding Celeste close. There was a pang in his chest, growing. “There’s another star, that lives on this planet.” Siffrin stated. “They’re very nice. I think the two of you would be best friends.”

But he didn’t know whether this star was still around, so to speak. Siffrin pursed his lips, tears threatening to leak from his eye. Celeste immediately saw this, and reached an arm out to touch her father’s face. “I’m okay, little star.” Siffrin smiled, accepting this gentle touch. “I just...I miss them. That star. None of us have seen them for...a long time.” One tear fell on Celeste’s outstretched hand, which Siffrin quickly dried. “Are you feeling better?” Siffrin asked, stroking her lightless hair. Celeste giggled in response.

Siffrin took her back inside, freezing when he saw Mirabelle gazing at a cup of hot tea on the coffee table by the couch. “Mira! Uhm.” Mirabelle looked up at the two of them, smiling. “Hi Siffrin, and hello Celeste.” She greeted warmly. “What’re you doing up?” Siffrin asked, sitting next to her. “Oh… I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Mirabelle said plainly, “So I made a cup of tea and...I figured I’d read one of my books. What about you two?”

“Celly here was hungry.” Siffrin laughed, “I gave her her bottle, and I told her about the stars.” Mirabelle beamed at the little girl swaddled warmly in her blanket.

“Her hair makes her look like a star, herself.” She giggled, “You chose a wonderful name for her.” “She IS a star.” Siffrin smiled. “All of you are. You’re all part of my constellation.”

“Aww Siffrin, that’s so lovely of you to say.” Mirabelle grinned wide. “Would you like some tea, too?” “Oh, I’ll get it, if you hold her for me.” Siffrin handed Celeste over. Mirabelle gladly took the baby into her arms, rocking her softly, while Siffrin got up to make his own tea. A pot of tea was already made, so Siffrin just grabbed a cup and poured himself some, adding a bit of honey to it, before returning to his seat on the couch. “...she...wasn’t a lot to handle, was she?” Siffrin asked, wringing his hands. “When me and Isa were away?” “Of course not, Siffrin.” Mirabelle beamed, booping Celeste on the nose. “We were fully prepared.” “I just worry, sometimes.” Siffrin admitted.

“She knows who we are, she loves us as much as she loves you and Isabeau.”

Siffrin leaned against Mirabelle, putting a hand on top of Mirabelle’s. “I...I really appreciate what you do for her.” Siffrin said, “I mean it.” “We’re family. We’re a constellation.”

Silence. Celeste fell back asleep. “...do you think...erm…” Siffrin fidgeted with his sleeve, “After I put her to bed, I could listen to you read?” “I’d love that, Siffrin.”

Siffrin smiled wide, and put Celeste back into her crib, adjusting several of the plushies Isabeau had made to be standing upright like watchful knights protecting their beloved princess. “Good night, little star.” Siffrin whispered, kissing her on the head.

He walked over to the bed where Isabeau was deeply asleep, snoring, drooling a bit, and he gave him a peck on the forehead as well.

Returning to Mirabelle in the living room, he saw she had taken a few books out and laid them across the coffee table. One book was about a vampire opening it’s heart to be loved again, which Siffrin pointed at.

Mirabelle giggled, flipping open to the first page while Siffrin leaned against her tiredly, wrapping their arms around her snugly.

“Chapter one,” She began, “A cold hallway lit only by moonlight…” Siffrin fell asleep before the sentence even ended. But he was warm. Safe. Surrounded by love. Mirabelle kept reading out loud, even though he murmured Loop’s name in his sleep.

[nine-one-wanton]

Second ask of @typicalopposite’s, which mobile has chewed up. Cutting off her message and taking away my “answer” button.

And, oh dear, not quite enough to finish the fic entirely. Guess we will just have to wait for @weewookinard’s bday when I post it in its entirety 💝

[smut under the cut]

“So,” Tommy asked. “How are you liking Paris?”

“Hm. I have eaten a lot of delicious food, and picked up a fiancé along the way. So all in all, I’ve enjoyed my time.”

Tommy chuckled.

“I also drank a lot of anger-wine, and now I might have to piss in a bush under the Eiffel Tower.. if we don’t get to our room quickly.”

Tommy shook his head, and picked up his pace.

———————-

Buck couldn’t stop admiring his ring, spinning it on his finger, watching the different ways that different light caught it.

“Happy?” Tommy asked, softly. He sat on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes.

“Overwhelmingly so.”

“Not mad at me for conspiring with the waiter?”

Buck sighed. “I didn’t know that you were conspiring to marry me.”

“You just saw a hot guy, and got nervous?”

Buck shrugged. “I guess I need to work on that.”

“It’s okay to feel jealous,” Tommy told him. “As long as, rationally, you know you have nothing to worry about.”

Buck smiled.

“I’m all yours,” Tommy told him in a low voice that made Buck’s knees weak.

Buck slipped out of the chair he’d been sitting in and crawled across the room to fit between Tommy’s legs.

He pushed Tommy’s thighs apart and rested his cheek against the warmth between them.

“Evan..” Tommy breathed, hotly.

“Mine.”

“Of course, Ev-“

“Shhh,” Buck told him. He unzipped Tommy’s jeans and they wordlessly collaborated to shimmy Tommy out of the tight fitting denim. Buck immediately took Tommy’s half-hard cock into his mouth, humming around it as he felt it firm up in his mouth.

“Evan..” Tommy sighed.

Buck let Tommy slip out of his mouth for just long enough to tell him, “The only thing that I want to hear from you is that you’re mine.”

“Yours, baby,” Tommy told him.

“That’s right.” Buck ran his tongue softly around the head of Tommy’s cock, making Tommy’s entire body stiffen and breathy gasps fell from his mouth. Buck took Tommy fully into his mouth, moaning around the size of him, drool pooling and slicking his shaft.

Buck let Tommy’s length fill his throat until his nostrils flared for air. And then slowly pulled off. Tommy groaned when Buck’s lips parted with him.

Tommy wrapped a hand around the base of his flushed and swollen cock, his eyes became stormy with lust as he reminded Buck, “Yours.”

Buck hummed happily, and walked over to the nightstand to grab the lube and finish undressing himself. He stroked himself as he looked down at Tommy, reclined on the bed with his jeans still wrapped around one ankle.

“Mine.”

Tommy nodded. “All yours, baby.” He held his heavy cock up for Buck. “All for you.”

Buck handed Tommy the lube to Tommy, and he continued to fondle himself. “Get my cock nice and wet for me.”

Tommy lubed his shaft up slowly, never breaking eye contact with Buck. Buck straddled Tommy and slowly sat back on his dick, reaching behind himself to pull his cheeks apart to accommodate his girth.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Buck sighed, feeling Tommy filling him.

“All yours,” Tommy groaned, and Buck could see how Tommy held himself back from thrusting immediately inside him. Tommy breathed in deeply, “Just tell me.. I’m yours, baby. Tell me how you want it.”

Buck slid all the way down until his ass rested on Tommy’s thick thighs. Buck’s jaw was shamelessly unhinged as he rocked his hips getting used to the familiar and full feeling.

“I fucking love your cock.”

“It’s yours,” Tommy moaned, gripping Buck’s hips and letting his fingertips dig into his flesh as he waited for Buck to start moving. “Please, baby.”

“Wait,” Buck told him as he began to slide up and down Tommy’s cock with controlled movements. “Fuck,” Buck moaned, but quickly clarified, “N-not you. Not yet.”

“Take what you need, baby,” Tommy groaned, visibly aching to unleash himself.

Buck stroked his own fully engorged cock, ran a flat hand up his body to land his fingers on a needy nipple, and let his head fall backward as he agonizingly slowly fucked himself on his fiancé’s cock.

“Tommy,” he moaned.

“You’re gorgeous,” Tommy told him. “So fucking gorgeous.”

“Sexier than th-“

“Yes,” Tommy cut him off quickly. “That’s why I’m yours. Please, let me..” he whined. “I’ll show you how good I can be for you.”

Buck straightened up, and looked down at Tommy with wild greed. He wanted what was his. He wanted Tommy to fucking wreck him.

[avengers-socmed]

Part 12

Peter had never moved so fast in his life. One second he was in the lab with Bruce, the next, he was at MJ’s apartment door knocking like a crazy man. He hoped none of the neighbours were around, they’d think he was some sort of stalker.

When the door finally opened, he thrust himself into the room and looked around, heart beating like crazy until he spotted Ned and Wade sat on the nearby couch. Wade was dressed casually, no red leather suit, which meant this was a casual thing. Fuck, he had been tricked.

“You tricked me,” he spun to point at the woman as she closed her front door, but she shrugged and made her way past him, sitting beside Ned.

“This was the only way to get you to talk.”

“Talk about that?” He huffed, glancing across his friends’ faces.

“Your crush on an avenger.” Ned’s words hit him in the chest, forcing him to slowly back into a nearby wall and stay there.

“You know about that?”

“Yeah Peter.” MJ’s voice was gentle, not her usual sarcastic tone he had grown to love so much. It was a welcome change, though he didn’t like the conversation it came with.

“How-“

“Well it isn’t me, you would have said something,” Wade spoke up, smiling at the man as Peter slowly made his way towards MJ’s living room.

“And it’s not MJ, definitely not me,” Ned continued.

“So it has to be an Avenger.” MJ finished, watching Peter as he slunk down in her recliner. The group sat in silence before Peter let out a long sigh and buried his face in his hands.

“God this is so stupid,”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid Peter.” MJ always tried to get Peter to open up, to talk, and he supposed there was no getting out of this one.

“Fine, yeah, I like an avenger.”

“Is it Tony?” Wade whispered, Ned slapping him on the arm. Peter just gave a small smile and shook his head no.

“Clint? Bruce? Steve?”

“No, no and no,” Peter sighed, looking away from his friends for a moment before he looked back again.

“I’ll just tell you, you’ll never get it by yourselves.”

Peter looked across his friends’ faces again. Wade looked as mischievous as usual, Ned serious, and MJ was pretty much in mother hen mode.

“Bucky.”

“Bucky? As in Bucky Barnes?” Wade got another slap, this time from MJ.

“Who else is called Bucky, idiot,” MJ hissed before she turned to look at Peter.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to pull his thoughts together.

“He’s always so aggressive and stuff in the media- but he’s not like that at all! Sure, he can be intense and has a staring problem but he’s…he’s sweet.” Peter could see the disbelief in his closest friends’ eyes. He tried to ignore it.

“He’s an avid cook, doesn’t let anyone but him cook meals if it’s a group thing- and he sort of acts like a rock- if anyone needs anything it’s like he’s just there for them, even if he doesn’t realise he’s doing it, and it’s really nice to see,” Peter hardly took a breath before he continued.

“His smile, it’s rare, but his smile is amazing, it always reaches his eyes, it’s never fake or forced, and so when he smiles at me, I know it’s real.”

Wade nodded slowly, though Peter could see the cogs turning in his head.

“If he smiles at you, how come he doesn’t know you exist?”

“He smiles at spider-man.”

“Oh.”

The four sat in silence for a second, stewing in Peter’s passionate rant. MJ was the first to speak.

“If you like him, we aren’t going to judge you for it,” she gave him a small smile.

“And if you want our help with anything, we can totally help you.”

Peter could feel himself start to grin. He had been so scared to talk about the situation, and yet here he was, grinning at his friends as they nodded along to MJ’s proposal.

“Thanks guys,” he whispered, trying not to let tears build.

“Anything for you Petey.”

The four laughed as Peter pulled them all into hugs. In the end, he was glad he was tricked.

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

The Monster At The End of This Book

Masterlist pt 1

Masterlist pt 2

The boys and I, now wearing FBI costumes, enter a bookstore and walk over to the counter to see a heavy-set man stocking his shelves. "Uh...can I help you?" The man asked us as we pull out our badges. "Sure hope so. Agents DeYoung, Shaw and Gowan. Just need to ask you a few questions." Dean said.

"Notice anything strange in the building, last couple of days?" Sam asked him. "Like what?" The man asked us. "Well, some other tenants reported flickering lights." I said and the man still looks at us like we are crazy. "Uh, I don't think so. Why?" The man asked.

"What about noises? Any skittering in the walls? Kind of like rats?" Sam asked him. "And the FBI is investigating a rodent problem?" The man asked, skeptical. "What about cold spots? Feel any sudden drops in temperature?" I asked and then the man starts to grin.

"I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?" He asked and the boys and I exchange looks. "Excuse me?" Dean asked. "You're fans." He said and I furrow my brow in confusion. "Fans of what?" I asked. "What is LARPing?" Dean asked. "Like you don't know." The man laughs but he notices our confused looks.

"Live-Action Role-Play! And pretty hardcore, too." The man said as he looks over our looks. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean said. "You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys from the books. What are they called?" The man said as he thinks then snaps his fingers. "Uh...Supernatural. Two guys and a woman, use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh...Steve, Dirk and (a variation of y/n)? Uh, Sal, Dane and (different variation of y/n)?" The man said and the boys and I exchange a look before Sam turns to him.

"Sam, Dean and (y/n)?" He said and the man snaps his fingers and points at him. "That's it!" He said. "You're saying this is a book?" I asked him. "Books. It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following." The man said and he goes over to a table labeled Bargain Bin, the boys and I follow him.

"Let's see. Um...Ah. Yeah..." he said and he hands Dean a book. "That's the first one, I think." He said and I come up next to Dean and sees the book cover. It had two men, who were both very muscular, standing in front of an haunted looking house. One of the men had long dark blonde hair that was blowing in the wind, he had his shirt off, showing off his six-pack, and holding a shotgun with jeans on. The other man was standing on the right of the man and he had short brown hair and was wearing a tank top and jeans

Then over on the left side of blonde man was a woman with long brown hair, also looking like it was blowing in the wind, and she was sitting on the hood of the Impala. She was wearing short shorts and a black tank top that seemed a bit too tight on her, her boobs were almost protruding out of the top, and she had this sexy, sultry look on her face while her right leg was pulled up to her.

"Supernatural by Carver Edlund." Dean reads then he flips the book over, which had the front end of a motorcycle appearing out of the corner of the book, and reads the back cover. "Along a lonely California highway, a mysterious woman in white lures men to their deaths." He reads then Sam grabs the book. "Give me that." Sam said as he looks over the book then turns to the man. "We're gonna need all the copies of Supernatural you've got." He said.

Later, we were in a motel room and Dean is reclining on the bed, flipping through a book and frowning. I was sitting on the other side of the bed, reading another book. Sam was seated by the window with his laptop. "This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?" I asked. "You got me." Sam said.

"Everything is in here. I mean everything. From the racist truck to – to me and (y/n) having sex. We're full-frontal in here, dude." Dean said as he gets up and crosses over to Sam and I get up and stand next to him. "How come we haven't heard of them before?" Dean asked. "They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation. Uh, started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one–No Rest For The Wicked–" he said then he turns the laptop towards us, displaying a web site listing the books. "Ends with you going to hell." He said. 

"I reiterate. Freaking insane." I said as Dean browses the site and I go and grab my laptop and pull up more information on the books. "Check it out. There’s actually fans. There’s not many of them, but still. Did you read this?" Dean asked Sam. "Yeah." Sam said as I read some more on the site. "Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot. Listen to this – Simpatico says the demon story line is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic." I said, reading from my laptop, and Dean scoffs. "Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it." He grumbles.

"Yeah. Well, keep on reading. It gets better." Sam said and we read some more. "There are Sam girls and Dean girls...oh and even (y/n) girls and – what's a slash fan?" Dean asked and Sam sighs. "As in...Dean-slash-(y/n)...Sam-slash-(y/n)..." Sam said. "Like, as in a couple?" Dean asked and Sam nods. 

"Uh...there's also Sam-slash-(y/n)-slash-Dean and sometimes I'm written out, rude, and there will be Sam-slash-Dean...together." I said and Dean looks at me, confused. "Like, together together?" He asked and I nod and his face turns into disgust.

"They do know we're brothers, right?" Dean asked as he gestures between him and Sam and I shrug. "Doesn't seem to matter." I said. "Oh, come on. That...That's just sick." Dean said, disgusted, and he shuts the laptop. "We got to find this Carver Edlund." Dean said. "Yeah, that might not be so easy." Sam said.

"Why not?" I asked him. "No tax records, no known address. Looks like Carver Edlund is a pen name." Sam replied. "Somebody’s gotta know who he is." Dean said and Sam thinks for a moment.

"So you published the Supernatural books?" Sam asked the young lady, who was the publisher of the books. Sam figured she might at least know who Carver Edlund really is. "Yep. Yeah. Gosh. These books...You know, they never really got the attention they deserved. All anybody wants to read anymore is that romance crap. You know – Doctor Sexy, M.D.?" She said then scoffs. "Please."

"Right. Well, we're hoping that our article can...shine a light on an underappreciated series." I said. "Yeah, yeah, because, you know, if we got a little bit of good press then m-maybe we could start publishing again." She said then Dean looks a bit panicked. "No, no, no, no. God, no. I mean, why – why would you want to do that? You know, it's, uh, such a complete series, what with Dean going to hell and all." Dean said and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, my God! That was one of my favorite ones, because Dean was so...strong...and sad and brave. Oh, and finally having a badass female character. (Y/n) is the type of character women should look up to. I mean, her standing up to Dean in Bloodlust, when she told Dean how replacing his Dad with Gordon was an insult to his father's memory and then challenged him to let his anger out on her. Or how she helps the boys out of sticky situations. God, what a badass!" She said and I couldn't help but smile at this.

"And that last moment Dean and (y/n) had together...proclaiming their undying love to each other..." she said, getting emotional, as she places a hand on her chest. "Romantic. And that slow burn between those two...it was like c'mon, you idiots! It's right there, you two are obviously in to each other! Get together! Kiss! Do something! I mean, I loved it but I also hated it, especially since they got together sometime before Dean goes to hell. They didn't get enough time together!" She goes on while Dean and I exchange a look and I see Sam smirking.

"And Sam...I mean, the best parts are when they'd cry. You know, like in–In Heart, when Sam had to kill Madison, the first woman since Jessica he really loved. And in Home, when Dean had to call John and ask him for help." She turns away at this then let's out a sigh. "Gosh...if only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings."

"Real men?" Dean said, a bit offended. "I mean, no offense. How often do you cry like that, hmm?" the publisher asked. "Well, right now, I'm crying on the inside." Dean said and I elbow his side. "Is that supposed to be funny?" She asked, incredulous. "Lady, this whole thing is funny." Dean said and I elbow his side again.

He stops and the woman looks between us. "How do I know you three are legit, hmm?" she asked. "Oh, trust me. We, uh...we're legit." I said, trying to assure her. "Well, I don't want any smart-ass article making fun of my boys and my girl." She said and the boys and I shake our heads.

"No! No, no, no. Never."

"No, that's..."

"We – We are actually, um...big fans." I said and she eyes us. "Hmm. You've read the books?" She asked. "Cover to cover." Dean said as Sam and I nod. "What's the year and model of the car?" She asked. "It’s a 1967 Chevy Impala." Dean replied.

"What's May 2nd?" She asked. "That's my–Uh...that's Sam's birthday." Sam replied. "January 24th is Dean's." Dean added. "And June 16th is (y/n)'s." I said and the woman nods. "Sam's score on the LSAT?" She asked. "One..." Sam said then looks at us, almost at a loss. "...Seventy-four?" He said, questioning, and she nods.

"Dean's favorite song?" she asked. "It's a tie. Between Zep's Ramble On and Traveling Riverside Blues." Dean replied. 

"How old was (y/n) when her father taught her how to drive a motorcycle?" She asked. "Thirteen." I replied. "What is Dean's and (y/n)'s song?" She asked and Dean and I exchanged a look before I clear my throat and said. "Can't Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon." And it seemed she was happy with our answers.

"Okay. Okay. What do you want to know?" She asked us. "What’s Carver Edlund's real name?" Sam asked her. "Oh, no. I – No. Sorry, I can’t do that." She said, quickly. "We just want to talk to him. You know, get the Supernatural story in his own words." I said. "He’s very private. It’s like Salinger." She said. "Please. Like I said – we are, um..." Sam. Said then he unbuttons his shirt, cringing a little, to reveal his demon-protection tattoo. "...big...big fans." He said then he looks over at me and Dean.

I sigh and pull down the collar of my shirt to show my tattoo just as Dean, who rolled his eyes, displays his own tattoo. The woman licks her lips, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable. "Awesome. You know what?" she said then she turns around and hikes up her skirt, showing us her tattoo. "I got one, too." 

"Whoa. You are a fan." Dean said then he turns to me. "You should've gotten yours there too." He teases me, quietly, and I slap his chest as the woman turns back to us. "Okay." She said and she scribbles something on a pad of paper. "His name's Chuck Shurley. And he's a genius, so don't piss him off." She informs us as I take the paper.

Later, the boys and I approach a ramshackle house with trepidation. We get out of the Impala and I stare at the house and started to wonder if I really wanted to learn the secrets that lay beyond that door. We make it to the front door, share a look then Dean pushes the doorbell.

Then a disheveled man, wearing only a shirt, shorts and a bathrobe, answers the door. "You Chuck Shurley?" Dean asked him. "The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?" Sam asked him. "Maybe. Why?" Chuck asked us. "I'm Dean. This is Sam and (y/n). The Dean, Sam and (y/n) you've been writing about." Dean said and Chuck closes the door.

Dean rings the bell again and Chuck opens the door. "Look, uh...I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life." He said and he tries to shut the door, but I put out a hand to stop it. "See, here's the thing. We have a life. You've been using it to write your books." I said as I shove the door open and enter, forcing Chuck to back up into the house.

"Now, wait a minute. Now, this isn't funny." Chuck stammers. "Damn straight, it's not funny." Dean said. "Look, we just want to know how you're doing it." Sam said. "I'm not doing anything." Chuck said.

"Are you a hunter?" I asked Chuck. "What? No. I'm a writer." Chuck exclaimed. "Then how do you know so much about demons?" Dean asked as he advances on Chuck, who falls onto the couch. "And Tulpas, and changelings?" He asked. "Is this some kind of Misery thing? Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a Misery thing!" Chuck shouts, panicked. "No, it's not a Misery thing. Believe me, we are not fans!" I said.

"Well, then, what do you want?!" Chuck asked. "I'm Sam. And that's Dean and (y/n)." Sam said. "Sam, Dean and (y/n) are fictional characters. I made them up! They're not real!" Chuck shouts at us.

Minutes later, we take Chuck out to the Impala and Dean opens the trunk, displaying the arsenal. "Are those real guns?" Chuck asked, shocked. "Yup. This is real rock salt, these are real fake IDs." I said. "Well, I got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans." Chuck said and I let out an annoyed sigh while Chuck looks around at us, nervous. "That’s, that’s awesome. So, I-I think I've got some posters in the house." he said.

"Chuck, stop." Dean said, annoyed, as he reaches out to Chuck. "Please. Wait. Please, don't hurt me." Chuck said, panicked, as he moves away from Dean. "How much do you know? Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the seals?" Sam asked and Chuck looks at him, startled.

"Wait a minute. How do you know about that?" He asked us. "The question is how do you." I said, questioning. "Because I wrote it?" He replied, shrugging. "You kept writing?" Sam asked. "Yeah, even after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books never came out. Okay, wait a minute. This is some kind of joke, right? Did that – Did Phil put you up to this?" Chuck asked and I sighed.

"Well, nice to meet you. I'm (y/n) (l/n) and this is Dean Winchester, and his brother, Sam." I said and Chuck was shocked once again. "The last names were never in the books. I never told anybody about that. I never even wrote that down." He said and it seemed like he was about to pass out.

Back inside his house, Chuck pours himself a large whisky and gulps it down, then sets the glass on the kitchen sink. He turns around, sees us, and groans. "Oh! Oh, you're still there." he said. "Yup." Dean said. "You're not a hallucination." Chuck said. "Nope." I said, shaking my head.

"Well, there's only one explanation. Obviously I'm a god." Chuck said. "You're not a god." Sam said. "How else do you explain it? I write things and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through – The physical beatings alone." Chuck said, upset. "Yeah, we're still in one piece." Dean said.

"I killed your father. I burned your mother alive. And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica." Chuck said to the boys then he turns to me. "And I burned your mother alive. And then gave your dad cancer." He said. "Chuck..." I said, a bit sympathetically, but he continues on.

"All for what? All for the sake of literary symmetry. I toyed with your lives, your emotions, for...entertainment." Chuck exclaimed. "You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay? You didn't create us." Dean said and Chuck looks up at us.

"Did you really have to live through the bugs?" He asked. "Yeah." Dean said. "What about the ghost ship?" Chuck asked. "Yes, that too." I said. "I am so sorry. I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing...if I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass." Chuck said. "Chuck, you're not a god!" Dean yells.

"We think you're probably just psychic." I said to her. "No. If I were psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard." Chuck said. "It seems that somehow, you're just...focused on our lives." Sam said. "Yeah, like laser-focused. Are you working on anything right now?" Dean asked and Chuck has a look of realization on his face.

"Holy crap." He mutters. "What?" I asked and he goes to pick up some pages. "The, uh, latest book? It's, uh, it's kind of weird." He said. "Weird how?" Sam asked. "It's very Vonnegut." He said. "Slaughterhouse-Five Vonnegut or Cat's Cradle Vonnegut?" Dean asked, intently, and Sam and I look over at him, confused.

"What?" we asked. 

"What?" Dean said, defensively.

"It's, uh, Kilgore Trout Vonnegut. I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, at my house...confronted by my characters." Chuck said and we exchange looks.

Later, we were at a laundromat ans Sam and I were doing laundry as Dean sits nearby, reading Chuck's latest manuscript. "I’m sitting in a laundromat, reading about myself sitting in a laundromat reading about myself. My head hurts." Dean said, pained. "There's got to be something this guy's not telling us." Sam said as he turns to toss his darks into the machine.

"Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth.” Dean said and Sam turns to Dean. "Stop it." He said. "'Stop it,' Sam said." Dean reads then he looks up at Sam. "Guess what you do next." He said and Sam turns away, scowling.

"Sam turned his back on Dean, his face brooding and pensive." He reads and looks up at Sam. "I mean, I don't know how he's doing it, but this guy is doing it. I can't see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders." Dean said and pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head. Great, now my head hurts! I thought.

"(y/n) felt like her head was gonna explode, like the pressure of it all was coming down on her." Dean reads and I raise my head and glared at him. "Dean, please..." I said, exasperated. "'Dean, please...' she pleaded." Dean reads and Sam sighs, exasperated. Dean looks over the manuscript again. "You just thought I was a dick." He said and I choke back a laugh while Sam turns around, looking impressed. "The guy's good." he said and Dean gives an unimpressed look to him.

The next day, the boys and I arrive back at Chuck's house as he called us and said he had something to tell us. He paces nervously, as if building up the courage to speak. He holds more pages in his hands.

"So...You wrote another chapter?" Sam asked and Chuck nods. "This was all so much easier before you were real." Chuck said. "We can take it; just spit it out." Dean said. "You especially are not gonna like this." Chuck said to him. "I didn't like hell." Dean remarks and Chuck sighs

"It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam." Chuck said and I furrow my brow. "Coming to kill him?" I asked. "When?" Sam asked at the same time. "Tonight." Chuck replied. "She's just gonna show up? Here?" Dean asked and Chuck sits down at his desk and puts his glasses on.

"Uh...let’s see, uh...Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion." He reads and Sam laughs and I try to bite back the smile. "You're kidding me, right?" Sam asked and Dean turns to him. "You think this is funny?" Dean asked him and I turn to Dean. "You don't? I mean, come on. Fiery demonic passion?" I said, a bit of a laugh in my voice.

"It's just a first draft." Chuck adds. "Wait, wait, wait, wait. Lilith is a little girl." Dean said and Chuck shakes his head. "No, uh, this time she's a comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana." He said, reading from his manuscript. "Great. Perfect." Dean grumbles.

"So what happens after the...fiery demonic passion?" I asked Chuck. "I don't know, it hasn't come to me yet." Chuck said and Dean growls under his breath. "Dean, look, there's nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In bed?" Sam said, as if the whole thing was ridiculous, but Dean glares at Sam and I turn to Chuck.

"How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?" I asked him. "You mean my process?" Chuck asked. "Yes, your process." I said and Chuck sighs. "Well, it usually starts with a headache. A really bad headache. Aspirin is useless, so...I drink. Until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream." He said.

"The first time you dreamt about us?" Dean asked as he turns to Chuck. "It flowed. It just, it kept flowing. It still does. I-I can't stop it, really." Chuck replied. "You can't seriously believe –" Sam said to Dean, who turns to him. "Humor me." He said and he stands up while Chuck holds up the manuscript for him. "Look, why don't we, we just..." Dean said as he takes the manuscript.

"Take a look at these and see what's what." he said and he looks to Chuck. "You –" he started to say then Chuck finished his sentence. "...knew you were gonna ask for that. Yeah." he said.

Later, Dean was driving and Sam sits beside him reading the latest chapter while I was in the backseat. "Dean, come on." Sam said, exasperated, and he begins to read. "The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean and (y/n) were still seeing stars. Both of them scratched absently at the pink flower Band-Aids on their faces." He reads.

"So?" Dean said, shrugging. "So, I've seen you gushing blood. You'd use duct tape and bar rags before you'd put on a pink flower Band-Aid." Sam said. "And I haven't put on a Band-Aid like that since I was like five." I said.

"What's your point?" Dean asked. "My point is this – all of this – is totally implausible, it's nuts." Sam said. "He's been right about everything so far. You think he's just gonna ground out at first now?" Dean asked and Sam scoffs before he continues. "Huh. Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala, (y/n) sitting next to him, and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow." Sam reads.

"A tarp?" I asked, confused. "Yeah. On the rear window. And Dean drives it like that." Sam said. "Well, he might be wrong about the details, but doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result." Dean said.

"So we’re just gonna run?" Sam asked. "Dude, we are a long way from ready for a face-to-face death match with Lilith." said Dean but at that moment we come upon a roadblock and Dean stops and an officer leans over the window.

"What seems to be the problem?" Dean asked. "Bridge is out ahead." the officer said. "We're just trying to get out of town." said Dean. "Yeah, afraid not." said the officer. "Is there a detour?" Dean asked him. "Nope." The officer replied.

"There's not a side road that takes us to the highway?" Dean asked. "To get to the highway, you have to cross that river. To cross the river, you have to take that bridge." The officer replied. "How deep's the river?" Dean asked, sounding a bit desperate. "Sorry. Afraid you three are gonna have to spend the night in town." The officer said and Dean lowers his head while Sam looks over his shoulder at me and I shrug.

We stopped at a dinner to get something to eat, while I was now reading the manuscript as Sam looks over a menu, Dean was just sitting next to me. "Hey, this could be a good thing. I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we got to do is get off the path." I said, optimistically, and Dean gave me the​​​​ what the hell are you talking about​​​​look.

"How do you mean?" Sam asked. "It's a blueprint of what not to do. I mean, if the pages say that we go left –" I said and Sam's eyes light up with understanding. "Then we go right." he said and I nod. "Exactly." I said. "So, we get off-book. We never make it to the end. It's opposite day. It says that we, uh, we get into a fight. So, no fighting. No research for you..." Dean said. "No bacon cheeseburger for you." I remarked and he looked a little put out with that.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll just order something else." Dean said just as the waitress approaches. "Hi, uh, what's good?" Dean asked her. "Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country." She said and Sam and I laugh at this. "Really?" Dean asked, disbelieving.

"I'll just have the cobb salad, please." Sam said. "And I'll have a chicken sandwich." I said.  "I'll have the...veggie tofu burger. Thanks." Dean said and she takes their menus and leaves.

"This whole thing's ridiculous." Sam grumbles. "Lilith is ridiculous?" Dean asked. "The idea of me hooking up with her is." Sam said. "Right. 'Cause something like that can never happen." I remarked and Sam starts to scowl, then controls himself. "Guys, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close." He said.

"So?" Dean and I said. "So...we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where she's – this is an opportunity." He replied. "Are you –" Dean said and I could just feel the anger radiating off of him. "It frustrates me when you say such reckless things." He growls. "Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide that fight." Sam said and I sigh, angrily, at this. "And It frustrates me when both of you get like this." I grumble as the Waitress comes back.

"Cobb salad for you. Chicken Sandwich for you." She said as he places Sam's plate in front of him then mine. "And the tofu veggie burger for you." She said to Dean as she places his plate down. "Thank you." Dean said and she leaves and Dean leans in close to Sam.

"It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight." he said and he takes a huge bite of his burger and his eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, my God. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing!" he said and I look and noticed the burger.

"Um, honey, that's not..." I started to say but then the waitress comes back, flustered. "I am so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake." She said as she takes his plate away and walks off.

That night, Dean drives us up to a very sleazy-looking motel and pulls into the parking lot. "Dude, this place charges by the hour." Sam remarks as we get out of the car and look around at our surroundings.  "Yeah, well, the book says Lilith finds you at the Red Motel. Hence, the uh, hooker inn. It's opposite day, remember?" Dean said and we head inside.

Once inside, Dean drops a bag on the bed and starts pulling out items. He takes a few small string-tied bags and places them around the room. "What are you doing?" I asked him. "Couple of hex bags ought to Lilith-proof the room." He replied.

"So, what? I'm supposed to just hole up here all night?" Sam asked, annoyed. "That's exactly what you're gonna do, okay? And no research. I don't care what you do – use the Magic Fingers or watch Casa Erotica on Pay-Per-View." Dean said and he reaches into Sam’s bag and pulls out Sam’s laptop, smiling.

"Oh, dude, come on." Sam whines. "Just call it a little insurance." Dean said as he hands me the laptop and I put it in my bag, that I had over my shoulder. "What are you two gonna do?" Sam asked. "Well, the pages say that we spend all day riding around in the Impala. So I'm gonna go park her. Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some porn." Dean said as he smiles, gestures for me to follow him and we leave.

"I sure hope this works." I said as we drive away from the motel. "It will. We just gotta do everything in our power to make sure Sam and Lilith don't get together." He said as he parks the Impala and we get out. We check the doors, then walk away across the street.

Moments later, we look back to see two teenagers attempting to break into the car. We run towards them. "Hey!" We shout but then I hear a noise beside me. I turn to see a van coming at us and I let out a scream as Dean grabs me and turns me around, so that he'd be my shield, and we get hit by the van, knocked us out.

"Oh my God. Just take it easy, you two are gonna be okay." I hear a female voice say as I start to come to. I open my eyes to see a woman hovering over me and she was wearing long dangling earrings, shaped like stars.

"Stars." I said, incoherently. "What was that?" She asked as I blink and look over to see Dean on my left and he had pink flowery Band-Aids on his face. "I'm so sorry. I just didn't see you two. Are you okay?" The woman asked as I raise my hands up to my face then I hear Dean starting to wake up.

"And sorry about...you know." the woman said as I sit up then see the woman indicating a young girl standing nearby. "M-My daughter's going through a doctor phase." she said and Dean starts to sit up.

"What are you talking about?" Dean groaned and I raise my hand to my face and felt Band-Aids on my face. "You're all better now." the girl said while Dean looks across the street and stares in horror. "Oh, no..." he mutters as he gets up and I look over and see that the back window of the Impala was shattered.

I sigh then turn to the girl. "Thanks, Doc. We feel all better now." I said and the girl smiles as I get up and go over to Dean while he catches a glimpse of himself in the side window and sees the Band-Aids. Frowning, he slowly peels one off.

I go over to the passenger side and look at the mirror to see my face covered in Band-Aids and began to peel them off. 

We put a tarp over the rear window and then Dean, still pissed, starts to drive down the road while I sat in that passenger seat. "For what it's worth, Dean...I wanted to say thank you for at least trying to save me." I said and I don't hear him say anything but just a small grunt, which told me he was too angry to even talk.

Later, we made it into Chuck's house and waited for him since he was nowhere inside. Finally, he walks in, carrying a bottle in a brown bag and six-pack of cans. He walks in slowly and does not appear very surprised to find me and Dean sitting in his living room.

"Dean. (Y/n)." He said. "I take it you knew we'd be here." I said as Chuck looks us over. "You two look terrible." He points out. "That's 'cause we just got hit by a minivan, Chuck." Dean growls. "Oh." Chuck replied, taken aback.

"That it? Every damn thing you write about me comes true; that’s all you have to say is oh?!" Dean yells as he walks up to Chuck. "Please don't yell at me." Chuck said, cowering.

"Why do I get feeling there's something that you're not telling us?" Dean yells, angrily. "What wouldn’t I be telling you?" Chuck said asked. "Chuck, please...tell us how you know what you know." I said, trying to be the calm one. "I don't know how I know, I just do!" Chuck said, panicked.

"That's not good enough." Dean growls and he shoves Chuck against the wall. "DEAN!" I yelled as I go up to Dean's side. "How the hell are you doing this?!" He yells at Chuck.

"Dean, let him go!" A voice demanded and we all turn to see Castiel standing behind us. "This man is to be protected." Castiel said. "Why?" Dean asked him. "He's a Prophet of the Lord." Castiel replied.

"You...You're Castiel...aren't you?" Chuck asked, shocked, as he sees Castiel. "It's an honor to meet you, Chuck. I...admire your work." Castiel said as he picks up one of the books and starts paging through it. "Whoa, whoa, what? This guy, a prophet? Come on, he's – he's...he's practically a Penthouse Forum writer." Dean said and I turn to Chuck.

"Did you know about this?" I asked him as he stumps over to his armchair; he cracks open a fresh bottle of whisky and pours himself some. "I, uh, I might have dreamt about it." He said and my eyes widen and jaw drops as Dean turns to him. "And you didn't tell us?!" He yells. "It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant. I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night-level douchiness." Chuck replied as he finishes this tirade and desperately gulps down the whisky.

Then Dean turns to Castiel. "This is the guy who decides our fate?" He asked, quietly. "He isn't deciding anything. He's a mouthpiece – a conduit for the inspired word." Castiel replied.  "The word? The word of God? What, like the new new testament?" I asked him. "One day, these books – they'll be known as the Winchester and (l/n) gospel." Castiel said.

"You got to be kidding me." Dean, Chuck and I said, in unison. "I am not...kidding you." Castiel said and I sigh. "If you'd both please excuse me one minute." Chuck said as he stands, still clutching the bottle, and disappears upstairs.

"Him? Really?" Dean asked Castiel. "You should've seen Luke." Castiel said. "Why'd he get tapped?" I asked him, gesturing towards the stairs Chuck went up to. "I don't know how prophets are chosen. The order comes from high up on the celestial chain of command." Castiel replied.

"How high?" Dean asked. "Very." Castiel said. "Well, whatever. How do we get around this?" Dean asked. "Around what?" Castiel asked, confused. "The Sam-Lilith love connection. How do we stop it from happening?" I asked him. "What the prophet has written can't be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass." Castiel said and Dean and I exchange worried and fearful looks.

Dean drives us to the motel, parks, and we get out of the car. Then we head inside. "Come on. We're getting out of here." Dean said to Sam as we enter and I shut the door. "What? Where?" Sam asked. "Anywhere, okay? Out of this motel, out of this town. I don't care if we got to swim, we are getting out." Dean said while I look around, confused.

"Sam, where are all the hex bags?" I asked him. "I burned them." Sam replied and Dean and I turn to him, sharply. "You what?" we asked him. "Look, if Lilith is coming, which is a big if –" Sam started to say but Dean shakes his head. "No, no, no. It's more than an if. Chuck is not a psychic. He's a prophet." Dean said.

"What?" Sam asked, shocked. "Castiel showed up, and apparently Chuck is writing the gospel of us." I replied and Sam thinks then nods a bit. "Okay." He said. "Okay. Let's get the hell out of here." Dean said as he grabs our bags. "No." Sam said, firmly.

"Lilith is gonna slaughter you." Dean said to him. "Maybe she will, maybe she won't." Sam replied, shrugging. "So what? You think you can take her?" I asked him. "Only one way to find out, guys, and I say bring her on." Sam said.

"Sam..." Dean and I said, worried. "You two think I'll do it, don't you? Both of you think I'll go dark side." Sam accused. "Yes! Okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately? The things you've been doing?" Dean yells and Sam looks up, startled. "Sam, the way you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing, like you were swatting a fly, it was pretty frightening." I said, giving him a worried look, and Sam looks over at Dean, fearfully.

"Oh, I already knew. Her and Cas told me." Dean said and Sam's eyes narrow. "What else did Cas tell you?" Sam asked him. "Nothing I don't already know. That you've been using your psychic crap, and you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why, and we don't know how." Dean said. "It's not what you think." Sam said.

"Then what is it, Sam? 'Cause we're at a total loss." I asked him as Dean grabs his bag and heads for the door, I go and grab mine and follow him. Dean stops and looks back. "Are you coming or not?" he asked. "No." Sam said and Dean and I turn back to the door, pause, then drop our bags forcefully on a chair by the door before Dean leaves. I sigh then follow him out.

Dean heads to a soda machine and drops coins into it, and I could tell he was fuming. I frown and walk up to him. "Hey..." I said to him, softly, and I placed my left arm around his shoulder. "How can he be so stupid?!" He asked me, angrily. "I don't know, Dean. I wish I knew myself." I said.

“I mean really! How can he hear a Prophet giving him his fortune and decide to let it happen?!” Dean asked, steam practically coming out of his ears as he continues getting more and more enraged. 

I open my mouth to try and say something but Dean continues ranting. “Why did we fight so hard to prevent every vision you two had from coming true? Why are we trying to stop these seals being broken? Why do we even TRY!” Dean shouted, pulling away me to punch the soda machine and cracking the glass.

“Dean please, calm down.” I pleaded. “Why?! I have every damn right to be upset!” Dean growled. “I know you do and I’m upset too. Right now, I want nothing more than to go back into that room and give Sam a piece of my mind. But clearly arguing isn’t gonna do anything and neither will breaking your hand.” I said.

Dean let’s out an irritated huff and turns away. “And to be honest, you’re starting to scare me a little.” I admitted. Dean turns back to look at me, his harden expression had finally softening. “I’m sorry it's just…” He tried to say, he sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t wanna lose him. I can’t…I can’t lose either of you.” He said, tearfully, voice breaking.

My heart broke at the sound of his voice and I step over to him, taking his hand to hold it. Dean looks down at our hands and squeeze mine, while I rub little circles on the back of his palm. “I know. I can’t either. We’ll find a way to stop this.” I said.

Dean continued staring down at our hands for a moment. “How?” He asked, raising his head to look at me. “I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out. We always do.” I said, giving him a little reassuring smile. Dean eyes moved away from mine, looking thoughtful. “…I might have an idea.” He muttered, returning his gaze onto me. 

He leans in and gives me kiss. When he pulls away, he rested his forehead against mine. “Thank you.” He whispered. I smile, giving his hand a little squeeze. “Anytime.” I said.

He sighs and closes his eyes before he speaks. "Well, I feel stupid doing this. But...I am fresh out of options. So please. I need some help. I'm praying, okay? Come on. Please." he begs and I run my thumb over the back of his hand again.

"Prayer is a sign of faith. This is a good thing, Dean." Castiel's voice said and we pull back from each other and see Castiel standing next to us. "So does that mean you'll help us?" I asked him. "I'm not sure what I can do." he said. "Drag Sam out of here, now. Before Lilith shows up." Dean said, firmly. "It's a prophecy. I can't interfere." Castiel said and I could see the anger growing on Dean's face again as he walks up to Castiel.

"You have tested me and thrown me every which way. And I have never asked for anything. Not a damn thing. But now I'm asking. I need your help. Please." he begs. "What you're asking, it's...not within my power to do." Castiel said, plainly. "Why? 'Cause it's divine prophecy?" Dean asked him. "Yes." Castiel replied and I run a hand over my face.

"So, what – We're just supposed to sit around and, and wait for it to happen?" I asked Castiel, who gives me a look of sympathy. "I'm sorry." He said. "Screw you. You and your mission. Your God. If you don't help us now, then when the time comes and you need me...don't bother knocking." Dean growls and he grabs my hand and we brush past Castiel and begin to walk away.

"Dean. (Y/n)." Castiel called out. "What?!" Dean yelled as we stop and turn to him. "You must understand why I can't intercede. Prophets are very special. They're protected." Castiel said. "I get that." Dean said. "If anything threatens a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're heaven's most terrifying weapon." Castiel informs and my eyes widen, getting at what he's doing.

"And these archangels, they're tied to prophets?" I asked him. "Yes." He replied and Dean and I share a look. "So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon –" Dean said, thinking, as he looks back at Castiel. "Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down on that demon. Just so you understand...why I can't help." Castiel said and I smile at him. "Thanks, Cas." Dean said and Castiel nods. "Good luck." He said and Dean and I head to the Impala and make our way to Chuck's house.

We enter Chuck's place, seeing him sprawled out on his couch, and approach him. This time he actually does seem surprised to see us. "What are you two doing here? I didn't write this." Chuck said as Dean begins to manhandle him. "Come on. We need you to come with us." Dean said. "What? Where?" Chuck asked. "To the motel where Sam is." I replied.

"That's where Lilith is." Chuck said, fearfully. "Yeah, exactly. We need you to stop her." Dean said. "Are you insane? Lilith? I know what she's capable of, guys. I wrote her." Chuck said and I roll my eyes. "All right, listen to me. You have an archangel tethered to you, okay? All you got to do is show up and boom! Lilith gets smoked." I said and Chuck looks between us.

"But I-I haven't seen that yet. Th-the story –" he stammers. "Chuck, you're the only shot that we've got left." Dean said. "But...I'm just a writer." Chuck said, upset. "This isn't a story anymore, man. This is real! And you're in it!" I yelled at him. "Now, we need you to get off your ass and fight. Come on, Chuck." Dean tells him but Chuck shakes his head. "No friggin' way." He said. 

"Okay, well, then, how about this – I've got a gun in my pocket, and if you don't come with us, I'll blow your brains out." Dean threatens. "I thought you said I was protected by an archangel." Chuck said, questioning. "Well, interesting exercise. Let's see who the quicker draw is." Dean said and Chuck looks between us and, eventually, he decides to come with us.

We make it to the motel and go to our room door and the three of us burst in. "I am the prophet Chuck!" Chuck shouts as we see Sam and Lilith standing there. She looks over at us, a bit unimpressed.

"You've got to be joking." She said and she leaves Sam and approaches Chuck. "Oh, this is no joke." Dean said just as the room begins to tremble, and a great white light pours in through the windows. "You see, Chuck here's got an archangel on his shoulder. You've got about 10 seconds before this room is full of wrath and you're a piece of charcoal. You sure you want to tangle with that?" Dean asked her.

Lilith gives Sam one last look then she leaves through her vessel's mouth and the light and the shaking of the building stopped.

After taking Chuck home and helping the woman Lilith possessed, the boys and I drive out of town. The rear window still busted and still clumsily covered in a tarp flapping in the wind.

"So a deal, huh?" Dean asked Sam after he told us what Lilith really wanted. "That's what she said." Sam said. "To call the whole thing off – angels, seals, Lucifer rising, the whole nine?" I asked, not really buying it. "That was the gist of it." Sam said and Dean hums at this.

"What?" Sam asked. "You didn't think once about taking it?" Dean asked him. "You kidding me? Dude, you and (y/n) spent all day trying to talk me off the Lilith track." Sam said. "I'm just saying..." Dean started to say but Sam talks over him. "She would have found some way to weasel out of it. And all it would have cost us was our lives." He said.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Dean mutters. "Anyway, that's not the point." Sam said. "What's the point?" I asked him. "The point is, she's scared. I could see it. Lilith is running." He replied. "Running from what?" Dean asked. "Don't know. But she was telling the truth about one thing." Sam said.

"What's that?" Dean and I asked. "She's not gonna survive the apocalypse. I'll make sure of that." Sam said, in a serious determined voice.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

[justsomeclintasha]

“I just thought maybe we could remake it, ya know? Into something better. Something for us.”

“I know,” Natasha agrees patiently. He’s explained it a thousand times, mostly to convince himself, and his fingers tighten on the steering wheel as the farmhouse comes into view. “We’re here because Sarah suggested it. If you want to leave, we leave. No judgement.”

As they pull up the drive, he wonders if their therapist had any idea what she was talking about. But they’re here, and it’s too late to back out now.

Clint gets out of the truck and walks up onto the porch. The rocking chairs have seen better days. The swing appears sturdy. She makes a mental note to try it out later. The sound of the door creaking open pulls her attention back and she follows him inside.

“The cleaning crew did a good job,” he mumbles, eyes sweeping around the kitchen. She nods. The decor is old and the appliances need to be replaced, but least they function. He clears his throat and walks toward the staircase, avoiding the living room. “Come on, I’ll show you my old bedroom.”

They pass a hole in the drywall that’s about level with her cheek. She brushes her fingers over the plaster. If they’re staying, she’ll fix it.

His name is carved in the wood of the door, the letter T crossed with an arrow. He pushes it open and laughs.

“Wow.”

“Okay, okay, every kid was obsessed with him,” he defends, motioning towards the Captain America posters on the wall. She carefully picks up one of the few action figures from the dresser. “Where do you think Coulson got those trading cards? Only thing I took with me when I left this place.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Really cool to meet your super hero in real life, too. Although I didn’t expect he would be so annoying about using coasters on the coffee table.”

“You antagonize him.”

“You’re right.”

They make quick work of the upstairs before heading back down. His shoulders tense slightly as they walk in the living room.

“What is it?”

“The recliner.”

“It is ugly.”

“I can just picture my dad sitting in there drinking whiskey and smoking. It’s like some kind of fucked up ghost haunting this place.” She frowns, glancing towards the kitchen.

“You got any matches?”

“You want to burn it?”

“Don’t you?”

“God, yes.” It doesn’t take much effort to drag it into the backyard, and after a quick trip to the barn, he returns with a can of gas. “It’s not much but it will work.”

“Ready when you are.” He douses the plaid fabric and holds out a hand for the matchbox. It ignites quickly, and she steps back with him, watching the flames curl around the wooden frame. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Hungry, though. And tired. It was a long drive. What do you think about ordering some pizza?”

“We staying?” He looks at the house for a long moment before turning back to her.

“Yeah. This is a new start. With a little bit of paint and some new furniture, I think.. well, if you want.. I think this could be our home. Something special, just for us.”

“I’m not letting you paint all the walls purple.” He grins mischievously, pulling her into his arms.

“Alright, just some of them then.”

“None of them!”

“One?”

She laughs, ducking away as he drops kisses on her cheeks, but he’s laughing too, and it’s already starting to feel like home.

[andydrysdalerogers]

The ABCs of Nick Vaughn ~ "O"

Pairing: Reader x Nick Vaughn (Before We Go)

Summary: Children its time to learn your ABCs. And Nick Vaughn is here to teach you the lessons. 26 glimpses in the world of you and Nick Vaughn

Warnings: S-M-U-T!!!! (under 18 please leave the chat!) descriptions of sexual activity including some themes of BDSM, loss of virginity, fluffy bits, pet name etc...

The new upload will probably be Sundays and Thursdays. Have fun kittens! Also, the tag list is open!

A/N: It was my birthday yesterday so I may not have Sunday's ready for you but I will do my best!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

ABC Masterlist - Main Masterlist

O - Orgasm Denial

From Nick’s POV 

My girl is up to something.  

I’m not worried, per say, but I am hella curious.  She bought some stuff and hid it in her closet.  It’s taking everything not to go snooping around. She said it was for her, from the list. What the fuck it could be was a mystery because we were still halfway through it.  

As I reclined in my chair, watching the game, I heard her moving around our bedroom.  We had been finalizing plans for the wedding and I just wanted to relax.  

“Nicky! Can you come help me with something?” 

Christ. It's like she knew I just wanted to have a beer and watch the game. “Yeah, I’m coming,” I called back to her.  I got up and she wasn’t in the room. “YN?” 

Her muffled voice came from the bathroom. “I dropped my face roller behind the bed and I can’t reach.”  

“Ok.” I shake my head. My girl is clumsy.  I bend over the side of the bed and reach down when I feel her move right next to me and then something furry.  “What the...” 

Click. 

I look down to see a furry black handcuff on my wrist. And I’m connected to the bed. I look up to see a little devious smile on my girl’s beautiful face. “Got you,” she whispered.  She pushed me down onto my back with one arm shackled to the bed above my head. She straddles me and pins me fast on my other arm and with another click, I’m handcuffed to the bed.  

“Baby, what are you doing?” I track her as she walks around the bed as I try to pull my arms free but the handcuffs bite. “Let me go sweetheart.”  

She looks away and taps her chin.  “No,” she replies like the brat she is. “I want to play with you.”  

“Ok, well, I can’t play with you if I’m tied up.”  

“I know.”  She pouts. “This is for all those times you teased Nicky.” She straddles over my legs, and I realize she’s bare under her dress. My stomach clenches and my cock jumps. “I’m gonna tease you so much baby but you’re not allowed to cum.”  

Oh. Fuck. 

She starts soft, kissing the inside of my thighs like to do to her before I feast on her.  But she doesn’t touch my cock or balls and its frustrating as hell. “Babe, please,” I whine.  

“No.”  

She’s mean. She’s rubbing her pretty pussy up and down my thigh as she kisses my abs and chest.  I shudder. She’s driving me crazy.  Her moans from the friction on her pussy make me pull on my arms again.  I need to touch her.  

“Fuck, sweetheart, please, let me help you.”  

“I’ve got it,” she moans as she tugs on my nipple with her teeth. I flex my thigh a little and it earns me a louder moan. “Oh Nicky!” 

I watch as she speeds up the rocking of her hips on my leg, sitting up and removing her little dress.  She’s not wearing a bra, so her tits are now just bouncing in front of me. Oh god, I might die right here. She grabs her breasts, squeezing them, moaning and I’m fucking losing it.  

I can see it in her eyes; she’s about to come. “No, baby, please come on my cock. Let me feel my pussy on my cock, please, princess, please!” 

She stops. “This is MY cock,” she snarls. “And you’ve been a bad boy so I will do what I want, when I want.” She moves down, my thigh shiny with her wetness. I swallow, unsure of what she is about to do when she bends down and licks a stripe from my balls to my tip.  

“Ah FUCK!” I’m so fucking close to cumming but she moves away. “No! Baby, fuck please!” 

“I’m so close, Nicky,” she moans as she climbs right over my length. I can feel how hot she is, how wet, but she just rubs herself on me. I try desperately to lift my hips so I can get inside her but without my arms to lift her up, she just uses me like a toy. I watch as her eyes roll in the back of her head, and she screams as her orgasm washes over her and I’m drenched in her sweetness. I sob in pain, my balls feel like they are going to explode as she collapses over me.  

She's catching her breath and I'm desperate to get loose and relieve myself. “Baby, please let me go,” I plead.  

She undoes the handcuffs and I immediately lift her hips and slip my cock into her. I thrust hard up, reaching over and rubbing her clit. She’s oversensitive and cries as her second orgasm fast approaches. “Let go baby,” I grunt as I feel my own release approaching. “Fucking cum!” She screeches as she comes again, and I roar as I pump her full of my cum.  

I slow as we pant from the fucking amaz-balls session we just had. I pepper her head with kisses as I stroke my fingers across her back. “Next time you want control just tell me, princess.”  

“Not a fan of the cuffs?” 

“Oh, I’m a fan, but on you.”  

She pouted. “You didn’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say that.” I can feel her smiling against my skin. “Fucking minx,” I mumble.  

“Karma’s a bitch Nicky. Maybe you should be nicer to me.” She wiggles on me and I groan. “But I do love using you.” She grinds down as I’m still in her.  

Round two it is.  

Next

taglist

@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @jennmurawski13-writes @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @atoosa22 @tinkerbelle67

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 21

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 2529

Warnings: Swearing, grief, death

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks

Chapter Songs: Right Where You Left Me Everybody Does

****

Juliette

Of all things Ghost could've said, hearing Hangman nearly got her killed never crossed Juliette's mind, although it certainly explained Ghost's aversion to him and the guilt that seemed to engulf Hangman whenever she appeared. Juliette remembered all too well how the Daggers said Hangman got his name because he would allegedly leave them hanging and go solo, but now she wondered if the callsign originated from a darker place. 

"I'm sorry," Juliette said in embarrassment, ashamed for bringing the topic up despite Ghost's unwavering decision to remain silent on the subject whenever possible. "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. I'm not going to push. I didn't realize-"

"No, no, it's okay. It was going to come up sooner or later." Ghost laughed dryly and shook her head. "The thing is, that's not why I'm upset with him. It'd make so much more sense if that was the reason, but it's not. For better or worse, I know Jake like the back of my hand, and what happened that day... he would never do something that would bring us harm; he made a grave miscalculation that day, and it had unintentional deadly consequences."

Juliette remembered the story Ghost had told her about her WSO, and suddenly, she put two and two together, feeling like an idiot for taking all this time to make the connection. "You're talking about Ghoul, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Ghost bent down to look under the plush rocking chair, studiously avoiding Juliette's gaze. "Back when I told you that she died and that it was a bad training accident, it wasn't a lie, but I didn't tell you the whole thing because I'd have to bring up Hangman, and I couldn't bring myself to speak of him because on top of being furious with him, I also missed him terribly, and it was an awful combination of emotions. Now, it feels stupid to still be so upset with him over the whole thing, but I can't move past it."

"What exactly did he do if you're not mad at him for nearly killing you?"

Ghost reached under the recliner and pulled out the English instructions for the crib. Sitting down, she placed them in front of her and Juliette and began grabbing the pieces for the first step. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Sort of," Juliette admitted, racking her brain for the story from so long ago. "I remember you had to eject, and Ghoul's parachute failed."

"We were in the middle of a training mission. Hangman and Phoenix acted as the enemy; Coyote and I were meant to get them. Phoenix took Coyote out first, but I managed to maneuver behind her right after. Hangman tried to fly between our planes to throw off the lock I was about to get on her, but he misjudged the distance and flew too close in front of me. I blew through his jetwash and lost control of the plane." Ghost wiped her nose with her sleeve and reached for the package of nails, ripping it open and taking out a handful that the instructions told her she needed. Juliette silently held the pieces in place while Ghost screwed them, waiting for her to continue. It took a few minutes before Ghost spoke again, her voice tinged with hurt and sorrow. "I honestly don't remember much after that. I have vague memories of the three of them shouting at me and Ghoul to eject, landing in the rough waters, trying to keep my and Ghoul's heads above the water despite the agonizing pain. I tried lugging us onto the raft, but I had no strength. It was either save myself and let Ghoul go or risk dying with her in the ocean, and I chose the latter. I wasn't-" Ghost's voice hitched- "I wasn't letting her go. I wasn't going to leave her."

"Annalise, I'm so sorry," Jules breathed, reaching for her friend's hand. The words sounded hollow and insincere despite Juliette meaning them wholeheartedly, but nothing could truly console someone who went through what Ghost did. "I can't imagine what that must've been like."

"I woke up in sick bay; I had a neck brace on, my chin bandaged up from when the force of the ejection pushed it into my chest, and a cast on my leg. It'd been fractured during the ejection process. Ghoul's parachute somehow got twisted and never fully opened. Almost every bone in her body broke from the impact of hitting the water. She died before I woke up. I never got to say goodbye, which was one of the hardest things to accept. I couldn't even get out of bed to try and say my apologies and farewells, dead or not, and God, I tried. I tried convincing anyone who would listen to me to help me out of that Godforsaken bed to go see her, but no one listened." Ghost kept her face hidden from view, but Juliette noticed the tears dripping onto her friend's black leggings. Ghost's voice shook now as she struggled to finish her story. "Cyclone visited me first. I'd never seen him so shaken and pale. He's the one who broke the news about Ghoul to me. He also told me that I'd briefly died too. I'd swallowed a lot of seawater without realizing it; it filled up my lungs, and I went into severe respiratory distress because of it. Flatlined and was clinically dead for a few minutes. It's weird- I had a harder time coming to terms with Ghoul's death than comprehending my own. I didn't believe Cyclone when he told me about Ghoul until Coyote visited me. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and that's when the truth finally hit me. He stayed at my bedside until I fell asleep and was there when I woke up. Phoenix, Warlock, and a few others dropped in to check on me, but the one person I wanted to see, the one person I needed, never did."

Juliette's shoulders sagged. "Hangman."

"Yeah. At first, I thought it was because he had a thing against hospitals ever since his mom died, but then I learned he'd gone to see Ghoul but not me. That... that one hurt, but I was willing to overlook it because it was Jake, and whether I wanted to admit back then or not, I loved him," Ghost confessed softly, turning the page of the instructions with shaking hands. "I even asked Coyote why Hangman hadn't visited me and to tell him to come see me, and Coyote always said he wasn't sure why, only that he relayed my message to Jake, but, of course, it made no difference. Jake never did. So I tried rationalizing all the reasons why he wouldn't see me and figured it had something to do with his mom, choosing to ignore the fact he had gone to see Ghoul. I convinced myself he'd be waiting for me when I left sick bay. Well, that day came, and Coyote was there, but Hangman wasn't. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry so badly, but I wouldn't let anyone see that, not even Coyote, despite how well he knew me, and I think that's when the grief started turning into fury. I barely saw Hangman until the trial, and even in those few fleeting moments that I did, even when I purposefully sought him out to talk, he turned and burned to avoid me or came up with some stupid excuse before leaving, like he couldn't even stand to be around me. Do you want to know the first time he tried talking to me willingly?"

Juliette shook her head. "When?"

Ghost scoffed bitterly while wiping away her tears. "After he was cleared of any wrongdoing in the trial. After I defended him in front of the jury and the entire Navy. Then, and only then, did he try to talk to me of his own free will, and by then, I was done with him. I may have defended him wholeheartedly in court, but now I couldn't face him without this surge of anger immediately coursing through me. The worst thing is that I know what I did hurt him. I know that when he tried to approach me after the trial, and all I did was glare at him as I walked by and ignored his request to talk, I could see the pain in his eyes. It took all my willpower not to turn around and forgive him then and there because it was like kicking a puppy, and I knew he blamed himself for Ghoul's death, but my heart had been shattered by so many things in such a short time that the mere idea of letting him back into my life would lead me down the rabbit hole of why I'd kicked him out of it in the first place, followed by the same, gut-wrenching, heart-stopping pain as if it were the very first day of the accident, and I couldn't- I couldn't do it. I'd rather feel nothing than feel like that ever again."

Juliette wiped away her own tears, moved by the visible emotion of Ghost, someone she'd never seen cry over another person, let alone cry at all. "It's terrifying to give your heart and trust to someone after they broke it, especially when you love them the way I believe you loved Hangman. It's like giving someone a knife after they just stabbed you and trusting them not to do it again."

"Is that how you felt with Rooster when he came back?"

"Yeah..." What Juliette failed to add was that if they compared situations, she would be the Hangman in hers, and Rooster would be Ghost. Juliette had been the one to break Rooster's trust by keeping a life-altering secret from him, no matter the good reasons she had for doing so. However, now wasn't the time to tell Ghost that. Dredging up these memories had taken a toll on her that Juliette had never seen before in her friend, and she did not want to add to the stress of it all by trying to defend Hangman's actions. Perhaps at a later time...

"Everyone believes I hate him because he nearly got me killed, and I let them because outside of a handful of people that I can literally count on one hand, including you, they'd think it's stupid for me to hold this grudge against him because he ignored me while I was incapacitated. I can't explain why I had such a strong reaction to it other than I loved him, and he'd given no reason for me to suspect he'd leave me hanging when I needed him most. Even Jackie and my parents think it's ridiculous that I haven't spoken to him in all these years; they don't bring it up because I'm their daughter, but knowing they feel that way makes it all the worse and makes me feel like I'm being over-dramatic and a fool, and then I hate myself for feeling the way I do-" 

Ghost suddenly crumpled in on herself, bracing her elbows on her knees and burying her face into her hands in a futile attempt to hide her body-wracking sobs. Juliette scooted next to her friend as fast as her pregnant belly would allow her and pulled Ghost into a tight side hug. 

"Listen to me, Annalise-" Juliette said tenderly yet firmly- "it's okay to be hurt by what Hangman did; he made you feel abandoned during a time you needed him most. Add in the extreme trauma of what you went through- physically, mentally, and emotionally- I'm sure that had a part in how strongly you reacted to the situation, and that's okay, too, regardless of what others say. Do not hate yourself for feeling the way you do. No one else's opinion matters on the subject but yours. If you feel that you still need to be upset with him, then do that. Fuck everyone else."

Ghost pulled away and offered a tiny but grateful smile through her tears. "Thank you. You're the first person I've told all that too. Not even my parents and Jackie know all of it. Not the bit about feeling stupid and over-dramatic, at least. But I'm so sorry for dumping this all on you. We should be building cribs, not having an impromptu therapy session where it stresses you out and raises your blood pr-"

"No, no, no, you're not stressing me out. I'm glad you finally told me. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell everything."

"I would've told you dinner the day after I arrived, but I'd seen how close you and Jake were at the Hard Deck and didn't want to put you in this uncomfortable position where you felt like you had to choose one friend over another. That's not fair to you. You've already gotten dragged into our shit more than you should've."

"Actually, outside of the first night, you two have been relatively cordial around each other in front of everyone."

Ghost winced. "I was pretty brutal to him that night. I wasn't expecting him to be there and lashed out, which isn't an excuse, but I took a cheap shot with my 'watery grave' comment. I felt guilty the moment I said it." 

"We've all said things we regret. It happens, but I think you can come back from it if you ever want to make amends with him."

"Part of me does, part of me doesn't. Not going to lie, half of the reason I sounded so exhausted this morning is I was up half the night crying because of that dilemma. I don't know what to do, and I don't like not knowing things, no matter what it may be."

"And the other half?"

"I mean, it still was from crying, but I was missing Ghoul badly yesterday. For the past few years, I've celebrated her birthday by myself, but last night, Hangman and Coyote joined, and it reminded me of the good old times when it was us and Ghoul. I miss those times. I miss Hangman. He was my best friend. My home..." Juliette understood all too well the ache that Ghost spoke of, and she opened her mouth to empathize with her friend, but Ghost sniffled and said, "We should probably get a move on if we're to get one of these done before the boys get home?"

Recognizing Ghost's desire to shift topics of conversation for now, Juliette obliged and handed her the next piece of the crib. "Don't worry. Bradley and Jake are great partners in the air. On the ground, they're a walking disaster. I bet it'll take them at least an hour to get dinner. Probably longer."

The comment caused Ghost to chuckle, and the girls set to work building the crib. Juliette ensured none of their conversation included Hangman, namely for Ghost's sake, but her interest in the topic was piqued exponentially. There were two sides to every story, and now she had to learn Hangman's. 

****

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[reverend-dog]

Alien Lover

“Sit down,” Michaela urged. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Charlotte stopped in the doorway. “Honey, I’m home,” she quipped.

“I’m serious,” Michaela chided. “Please.”

Charlotte found her girlfriend hard to resist at the best of times. The sight of her grave and distressed added urgency which did not diminish the allure. She divested herself of coat, bag, and shoes, and crossed the room to sit on the couch, opposite Michaela’s perch on the edge of the recliner. She reached out and took Michaela’s hands in hers.

“It’s okay, Mickey,” she murmured. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me.”

Michaela’s lips curved in a specter of a smile. “I hope so,” she wished. “Because I’m going to owe you a huge apology.” She sucked in a deep breath, let it out. “I’m – not from around here.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Silly, I knew that! I’ve loved your accent since the day we met!” She squeezed Michaela’s hands, and smiled at the other woman’s blink. “You think I didn’t notice? It’s faint, and I haven’t guessed what it is yet.” She sobered a little. “Does this have to do with what you want to say? I’m so sorry, I’m running all over you!” And she pressed her lips tight against further chatter.

Despite herself, Michaela smiled at Charlotte’s attempt at restraint. “Well, you can stop guessing. You never would have got it right, anyway. When I say I’m not from around here… I’m not talking about countries.” She drew another breath. “I’m from another planet.”

Charlotte sat motionless, hands still clasped around Michaela’s, eyes locked on hers. Unnerved by such a reaction from her normally talkative girlfriend, Michaela felt compelled to expand. “You know all my allergies? How you tried to pick up prescriptions for me, but I have to get them all in the mail? That’s because no Earth pharmacy stocks the medicines I need. They’re to boost my immune system, and damp reactions to allergens.

“As for how I look,” Michaela continued, “it’s not a disguise. Turns out, the human form is quite common. Why is a question, and the reason I’m here. I’m trying to find evidence of a common genetic ancestor between Earth humans and my race. But if you took an internal scan, you’d spot the differences straightaway.

“And no, I don’t have a spaceship. We progressed beyond vehicular travel a couple generations ago. You know the show Stargate? It’s sort of like that, but without need for terminals.”

Charlotte still had not moved. Her expression betrayed nothing, though her eyes showed awareness. “Charlie?” Michaela probed, and reversed Charlotte’s grip so she could squeeze Charlotte’s hands. “Charlie, say something. I know it’s a lot, but it’s true. Please, say something!”

“Why now?”

The words came out, devoid of inflection. Charlotte sounded like a primitive version of a synthetic voice.

But it was a response. Michaela nodded, head low. “I know,” she conceded. “We’ve been together for two years. Why, with everything else we’ve shared, have I kept this from you, only to break silence now? Well, there is a reason.” She swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

Of all the reactions Michaela anticipated, the peals of laughter that erupted from Charlotte claimed no space on her bingo card. Charlotte rocked back and forth in her seat, gasping between mirthful spasms. Her mouth worked as she laughed, attempting to squeeze words out. Finally, she succeeded.

“Does – does this mean we – have to get m-married?” she managed.

Michaela blinked. “What?” she blurted. “No! It doesn’t work like that!” She spied the grin on Charlotte’s face, but could not decide whether she was joking or hysterical. “My race is parthenogenetic. When we come of age, we conceive and gestate on our own. I’ve been using suppressants to delay it, but….” She shrugged. “But that brings me to what I really need to tell you. I have to go home. And I want you to come with me.”

Charlotte’s mouth slammed shut, her eyes wide. “What?” she whispered after a moment.

“Please, Charlie,” Michaela pleaded. “You’ve seen how much I have to go through just to survive here. There’s no way a baby could make it.” Her eyes burned, and tears felt molten as they ran down her cheeks. “But I don’t want to live without you, either. Please come with me.”

Charlotte stood up, extricating her hands from Michaela’s. Face once more impassive, she turned and paced the perimeter of the living room, one slow, deliberate step after another. Michaela remained in her seat, head bowed, hands slack in her lap. Tears fell unheeded into the carpet. She had fired her bolt; now, she could only wait to see how truly it struck. Earth held no claim on her – she came here strictly for research, a temporary assignment. Her home lay light-decades away, with all her friends, family, an environment that was not trying constantly to kill her.

And yet, she asked Charlotte to face the same ordeal, for much less worthy reasons.

How dared she?

“Charlie!” Michaela called. She sprang from the recliner and spun, mouth open to retract her invitation. She thought Charlotte was still across the room, not directly before her. Nor did she anticipate Charlotte clutching Michaela’s face in her hands, and pressing her lips firmly against Michaela’s. The kiss was hard and deep and full of everything good in any world, and it left Michaela gasping, staring at her alien lover.

“When do we leave?” Charlotte asked.

[dokifluffs]

Newborn | Sakusa, Osamu, Bokuto

Pairings: Sakusa X Reader (female) and Osamu X Reader (female), and Bokuto X Reader (female)

Genre: baby fever, dad haikyuu wow fluff love 

Author’s Note: Babies are adorable and haikyuu as dads is just- 😍

Warnings/ Notes: All post time skip! and their children are less than 1 year old, infancy

Newborn | Ushijima, Iwaizumi, Atsumu 

Sakusa: 

The lights in your hospital room were dim with a single lamp on beside Sakusa as you rest soundly having given birth two days ago

He rocked slowly back and forth in the rocking chair, holding his baby girl for the second time ever

He carefully cradled her in his arms, fitting perfectly with her head resting in the crook of his elbow, her body wrapped in a pink blanket and a little beanie covering her slight bunch of dark hair that matched his own

She yawned, her mouth stretching, eyes squeezed shut as she did this, making Sakusa let out a breath

“You tired, hm?” He slowly ceased his rocking to a slow stop as she inhaled, taking in a few deep breaths before she let out a little squeak of a sneeze

For the first time in Sakusa’s life, after fearing germs so much, the countless times he scrubbed his body, room, house, everything he owned or touched, he wasn’t fazed at all seeing his little girl sneeze in his hold

“Bless you,” he smiled as he continued rocking

Aside from you, he had never held something so precious and dear to him in his life and now here she was in his life, a little human that the two of you brought into this world

She was a little treasure he had in his life he didn’t even realize he needed

But now he knew

“I can’t wait to show you your clean room that I was able to set up for you, my sweet,” he hummed as he brought her closer, pressing a kiss to the edge of her beanie

“I won’t let you ever get sick,” he promised, already thinking of making a book so he could read and educate her on how to stay clean

As the final words left his lips, the tiny infant’s eyes opened, the first thing she saw was her father

Her tiny body moved in the wrapped blanket, making her look like a little burrito. He loosened the blanket, letting her little arms and legs free

She reached her hands covered with the hospital provided booties, reaching for the hand of her father, little gurgling sounds coming from her

“Shh, mommy’s sleeping,” he shushed her seeing you stir in your sleep, rocking her once again in the chair

Their gazes never left each other as she looked up to him with a unreadable look but he looked at her like she was something so precious, he didn’t want the world to break her

“You’re so small,” he breathed, holding her even closer, letting her rest her head on his chest in the reclined seat of the rocking chair he kept in this position with his feet

“How cute,” a warm heat spreading in his chest

Osamu: 

“Let’s go wake daddy, okay?” You held your son above your head in your hold as he erupted into a small fit of giggles, his eyes drawing into thin lines as he waved his arms in the air

You bounced with every step holding your son on your waist, your sons hands clamped over his mouth, the smile never leaving his little face as the two of you made your way upstairs

The door creaked open slowly as you nudged it open with your foot

Osamu laid on his stomach, his upper body bare on the bed, still fast asleep with the blanket draped over half his body. His arms rest beneath the pillow half his face was smudged in

You sat on the edge of the bed on Osamu’s side, pointing to your asleep husband to your son

“S/N, go wake daddy,” you encouraged in a hushed voice as you set him down on the bed. “Go wake daddy,” you smiled and gave a reassuring nod as your son looked back to you

He crawled wobbly on the bed toward his sleeping father with determination, his little, dark gray eyes locked on his father’s sleeping face

As he got closer, he began to babble. He leaned into the pillows and raised his little hands, patting his father’s cheek and nose, letting out incoherent sounds you could only imagine would be him telling Osamu to wake up

Osamu’s back rose as he took in a deep breath, his groggy eyes slowly cracking open to meet his son’s face inches away from him

Your son’s babbling ceased but his ministrations didn’t

He continued to pat Osamu’s face and nose, booping it with his tiny fingers

“Alright, buddy, I’m awake,” he smiled and hummed, turning to his back so he could lift his son, sitting him on his chest

Your son just stared at Osamu wide eyed, looking at how much bigger Osamu’s hand was from his own as Osamu half his hand, lightly moving it side to side as he blinked away the final bits of sleep

“He really looks like you,” Osamu spoke, his voice deep with sleep as you laid down at his side, your hand draping over his abdomen behind your son’s body sitting on him

“I really think he looks like you,” you kissed his cheek, the hand of his arm you laid on slowly rubbing your shoulder. “His hair’s pretty dark like ours but he has you gray eyes.”

“Hmmmmm…” Osamu hummed as he just took in the moment, letting this reality imprint in his memory forever

This was his family: you two were his everything

Bokuto: 

“I’m home!” You called into the house, Bokuto and your son nowhere to be seen

You slipped out of your shoes, feet aching despite wearing flats all day but still nonetheless sore

All you wanted as soon as you left was to come right back home to your boys yet there were out of sight and it made you wonder if they went out

As you pulled out your phone to call Bokuto, your train of thought was interrupted when you heard laughter coming from upstairs

You followed the sound upstairs, seeing light coming from your son’s nursery

With the door opened, you found them

Bokuto and your son laid on the rug in the room, the room brightly lit from the lamps being on

Your older child, Bokuto, put the handle of a toy maraca in his mouth before he shot it up into the air from his mouth, catching it before it could hit either of them or the floor

Your son loved this- he erupted into a fit of laughter and giggles as he squirmed on the floor, holding his feet, clapping his hands, moving all sorts of ways, their smiles and gazes never leaving each other

It was safe to say your son got the happy virus from his father, the two already very similar and you could tell his childhood was going to be full of memories and adventures with Bokuto as his dad

And you couldn’t have asked for anyone else to take his spot beside you for the rest of your life

“S/N, mommy’s home!” Bokuto sat himself up and swiped his son off the floor, his hand holding his stomach as he moved him around as he made his way to you, making airplane noises as your son giggled more, his hands reaching for you

He made babbling noises as Bokuto handed him to you, his small hands clinging to your blazer collar

“Hey, how was work?” Bokuto’s hand found its place on the small of your back as he leaned in, the two of you pecking your lips together

“It was tiring but seeing the two o you recharged me,” you smiled. “I missed you so much today,” you spoke in a baby voice as you carefully dipped forward, peppering little kisses all over your son’s face as you stood straight up

“Hey!” Bokuto playfully pouted

“And I missed you too,” you spoke in the same baby voice, getting on your tippy toes as he leaned down a little so you could pepper his cheek with kisses as well

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04​  @fortheloveofbakugo​ @tsumtsumsemi​ @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci​ @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi​ @pink-panda-pancakes​ @differentballooncollection​ @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction​ @euphorihan@turquoiselace​ @macaronnv  @oxmaddy​​ @mrkoala4prsdnt​​ @curiouslilbeast​ @plantisnotplant@therestless101​ @abcdaichi​ @oyasenpai​ @kaaidalupita​ @lovinnoya​

[bxcketbarnes]

Off to War

Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3000+

Author's Note: I finally got an idea for 40's Bucky and I'm so happy with how this came out. This man is plaguing my brain and I'm so okay with it. I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think. 🥰

"I wish you didn't have to leave," you whisper to the tall brunette, your eyes glued to Bucky's hand that's resting on your lap.

Bucky hums in response and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together before gently squeezing. "I wish I didn't have to leave either. I never wanted this life," he mumbles and you frown as your thumb gently strokes the back of his hand. "I mean, what are you and Steve going to do without me? I won't be here to protect you."

Your heart flutters at his words, always loving the caring side of him. A side only you and Steve knew about. Bucky's a bit of a player, always has been since he was in high school. He's the most gorgeous man you've ever seen, and you happen to be hopelessly in love with him.

"Steve and I can try to take care of ourselves. My older brother has been teaching me how to defend myself. I've got some skill now," you wink and earn a chuckle from the twenty-six-year-old.

"Yeah, but the thing is you shouldn't have to. You're a woman for God's sake. No man should be treating you the way you've been treated," Bucky argues and you nod your head slightly, agreeing with him. "If I could take you with me, I would. I'd keep you safe, doll."

Your cheeks flush at the compliments pouring from his lips, looking away from the brunette. "Bucky…" you trail off and your eyes meet his blue ones, seeing an emotion you've hardly seen in them before.

"Can I just-" he cuts himself off to lean in closer, feeling his nose brush against yours. "Just this once."

You clear your throat as Bucky moves his hand down your sides and rests on your hips. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his lips grazing against yours, your breath catching in your throat. "Kiss me," you whisper and Bucky immediately captures your lips with his.

You're wrapping your arms around his neck, running your hands through his hair as you kiss him back feverishly. Butterflies swirl around your stomach as Bucky pushes you back, laying you against the cushions of your couch.

He hovers over you as his fingertips graze along the length of your neck. Bucky pulls away from you, both of you breathing heavily as your faces are still close. "Now, I definitely don't want to leave," Bucky sighs while resting his forehead against yours.

Your heart pounds against your chest and hums in reply, combing your fingers through his hair. "That's- Jesus," you stumble over your words, causing your best friend to laugh.

"Cat got your tongue, doll?" He smirks and you roll your eyes playfully as Bucky sits back up.

Before you can say anything your front door opens, both of you glancing towards it to see Steve walking into the place. His blue eyes dance between you and Bucky, an inquisitive look on his face.

"Everything okay?" Steve asks while moving to sit in one of the recliners. You and Bucky nod your head simultaneously, eyes glancing at one another's for a quick second.

"Yeah, just gonna miss you guys," Bucky states as his hand squeezes yours.

-

You couldn't believe the Peggy Carter wants to recruit you for her medic team. You've heard a lot about her through your letters from Steve and from various people you've talked to on the streets of Brooklyn.

One thing you wish is for Bucky to send you something… literally anything. You haven't heard from him in months and you're not going to lie- you're worried about him.

So, here you are, on the frontlines in Germany. You're nervous about being this close to the war, but you'd do almost anything to help your country out. Plus, Peggy mentioned that Steve's going to be here as well.

You jump at the sound of gunfire in the distance, releasing a deep breath as Peggy leads you towards the tent you'll be staying in. "Nervous, Miss L/N?" She asks you and you let out a small chuckle.

"Is it obvious?" You laugh while running a hand through your hair.

Peggy gives you a soft smile and lays a hand on your shoulder. "Don't fret. This is one of the safest camps along the frontlines," she reassures you and you nod your head in response. "So, have you known Steve for long?"

"Oh, since middle school. It's where I met both him and Bucky," you inform her with a smile and her face falls a bit. You notice the look on her face and furrow your eyebrows. "What is it?"

"You should probably know about James," she uses his first name and your heart drops. You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod your head for her to continue. "He was captured by the Nazis about a month ago."

All the air leaves your body, leaving you gasping for breath at the news. You place a hand on her shoulder to keep your body from collapsing. "D-Does Steve know?" You ask in a whisper and Peggy nods in reply. "Is he here now?"

"Yeah, I'll tell him where to find you," she mentions while leading you into the tent you're staying in. Once Peggy leaves your tent you break down, falling to your knees as tears pool in your eyes.

The memory of yours and Bucky's kiss flash through your mind, your heart clenching at the thought of him dead. Your lip trembles and you fully sit on the ground, leaning against your cot before hugging your knees.

He could still be alive… right? You think to yourself as a quiet knock is heard right outside your tent. "Y/N?" Steve's voice softly calls out and you pick your head up.

"Come in," you whisper loud enough for him to hear. A short gasp leaves your lips as Steve walks into your tent. "Steve?"

A chuckle leaves his lips and the blonde nods his head. "It's me, Y/N," he grins and you slowly stand up. "You must have been living under a rock. I've been like this for a few months."

"Wh-What happened? How?" You ask in astonishment while walking closer to him.

You suddenly wrap your arms around his waist, your heart heavy as you can feel the tears coming back. "Super soldier serum. I was the test subject. You knew how much I wanted to help," he explains and you nod your head. "Listen, about Bucky-"

"Is he alive?" You ask, cutting him off and Steve sighs. You rest your forehead against his chest as sobs escape your lips, the image of seeing his dead body plaguing your mind. "I-I never got to tell him about my feelings."

Steve's brows furrow together and rest his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back a bit. "What feelings?" He questions and you sigh while wiping the tears from your face.

"I'm in love with James Buchanan Barnes," you tell him and his blue eyes widen, shock written across his face.

"Since when?!" Steve asks and you let out a chuckle, scratching the back of your neck.

"Probably since high school," you inform him and you're amused that Steve never figured it out, especially since he was around you a lot. You move to sit on your cot, inviting him to sit next to you and he does. "You know the night before Bucky left?"

Steve nods his head, resting his hands on his thighs. "Yeah, you and Bucky were acting strange when I finally made it to your place…" he trails off and you snort, giving him a look. "No way. You two did something?"

A laugh leaves your lips as you lean your chin against the palm of your hand, sighing heavily. "To be fair, we only kissed," you explain to him, gazing at the super-soldier for a few seconds, "but, it was the best kiss I've ever had."

Steve rests a hand on your upper back, rubbing gently. "I'm going to find him. I'm taking our men out tomorrow to find him and everyone else they captured. I'm bringing him home," he tells you, and your eyes well up with tears, nodding your head to what he's saying.

-

"Medic! We've got wounded," someone shouts and your head snaps up before scurrying out of your cot.

You throw on your medic jacket and rush out of your tent, running straight to the med-tent. "Where are they?" You ask one of the other nurses, seeing the empty spaces in front of you.

"Guys from the 107th are bringing them in now," she informs you and you nod your head.

The flap of your tent opens up and about nine people hobble their way inside. You order the men holding them up to place the wounded on the cots as you start examining the one closest to you.

It doesn't take you long to patch the men up and thankfully there's not that much damage on them either. They all thank you and you grin to yourself, absorbing the validation. "Just doing my part," you tell them while patting the shoulder of the last man you attend to.

Steve walks into the tent and your eyes dance towards him. "There's something you need to see," he mumbles, and your heart pounds against your chest.

"I can't if he's…" you trail off and Steve shakes his head. A smile comes to the blonde's lips and you let out a small sob, stumbling towards him. "He's- he's alive?!"

"C'mon," he motions for you to follow and you glance towards the nurse, a pleading look in your eyes.

The brunette laughs and nods her head. "Go see whoever it is you need to see," she grins and you thank you quietly before running after Steve.

You fiddle with your fingers as your friend leads you towards Bucky’s tent. "Does he know I'm here?" You ask him and Steve shakes his head.

A deep breath leaves your lips as he stops you from going in. You look up at the six-foot man and he tells you to wait a minute. You nod your head and watch as Steve walks into the tent, hearing him tell Bucky that he's got a surprise for him.

"Come on in, Y/N," Steve calls out and Bucky's head snaps up at the sound of your name.

No way. There just happens to be another woman here with that name. It's not- Bucky's thoughts get cut off as he watches you walk into the tent, a nervous look on your face.

"Bucky," you breathe out and the twenty-six-year-old stands up from his cot before rushing towards you.

Tears come to your eyes as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tightly. "Holy shit, you're-"

"I'm here," you whisper and wrap your arms around his waist, gripping his shirt tightly. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Bucky glances towards Steve and the blonde nods his head before leaving the two of you alone. You pull away from your best friend, sniffling as you bring your hand up to his face.

His blue eyes look you over as he feels your thumb gently strokes his cheek. "What are you doing here?" Bucky whispers and you giggle softly.

"Peggy recruited me to help out," you tell him and Bucky leans into your touch before kissing the palm of your hand.

Your heart flutters in your chest, smiling softly at the man before resting your head on his chest. Bucky wraps his arms around you once more as the two of you stand in silence.

-

"Oh come on. Come with me," you beg Peggy, not wanting to go into a bar filled with men by yourself. "It'll make me feel much safer, at least until I reach Steve and Bucky."

You run your hands over the black material, your dress looking very similar to Peggy's except hers is red. "Fine," she sighs and stands up from her seat, her eyes meeting yours. "I have to talk to Steve anyway."

"Oh?" You question with a slight tease in your voice, nudging her shoulder with yours. "We happen to fancy a certain blonde hair, blue-eyed man?"

Peggy scoffs and shakes her head, clutching her purse. "Absolutely not. Howard has new equipment for him to try," she informs you and you chuckle in response. "Are you finally going to tell James about your feelings?"

Your chuckle dies off at her words and you clear your throat, gliding your fingertips along the smooth dress. "I- Don't know what you're talking about," you tell her, and she gives you a knowing smirk as the two of you get closer to the bar.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Steve blurted out that you're in love with the man, and it's not that hard to figure out," Peggy teases you now and you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll have enough liquid courage to tell him. We'll see how it plays out," you mention and she nods her head, glad that you'll attempt to reveal your feelings.

The singing in the bar dies down as the Howling Commandos spot the two of you. Your cheeks flush at all the attention and tuck some hair behind your ear as you follow Peggy. "Miss L/N, you look fantastic," one of the men comments and you thank him quietly.

You notice both Bucky and Steve lean back in their chairs as the bar suddenly becomes silent, the two men standing up when you and Peggy approach them. "Captain," Peggy greets Steve and you smile, knowing that the two have some sort of unspoken thing happening.

"Agent Carter," Steve nods, and your eyes move to Bucky, who's currently checking her out and your heart clenches in your chest.

Well… you move around them and head towards the bar, ordering yourself a drink. "I see your top squad is prepping for duty," Peggy tells Steve.

Bucky grins and shoves his hands into his pockets. "You don't like music?" He asks. The bartender places your drink down in front of you and you thank him politely before paying.

"I do, actually," she says, not looking away from Steve for even a second. "I might even, when all of this is over, go dancing."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Bucky flirts and you roll your eyes before taking a large gulp of your drink, already wanting to leave.

So much for him feeling the same way, huh? You think to yourself as you hear Peggy tell him that she's waiting for the right partner. She bids them goodbye before giving you a wave. You nod your head as the two men watch her walk away before Bucky turns to face Steve.

"I'm invisible. I'm turning into you, it's like a horrible dream," he laughs and moves to sit back down in his spot.

Steve claps him on the shoulder as his eyes meet yours. "Maybe she has a friend," he mentions and tilts his head in your direction.

Bucky's eyes find yours as you sit on the barstool, fiddling with the glass in your hands. The brunette finishes the drink he has before glancing towards Steve. "How long has she been sitting there?" He asks and Steve frowns a bit.

"She came in with Peggy," he informs him and Bucky begins to feel a bit guilty for not noticing you.

"Shit," he whispers and watches you order another drink. "I'll see you later."

Steve pats Bucky on the back once more with a smile on his lips. "Go get 'er, tiger," he laughs causing Bucky to roll his eyes.

You smile at the bartender and go to pay him for the drink when someone lays a five-dollar bill on the table. "This one's on me," Bucky says, causing you to look up at the man. "Hey."

"Hi," you mumble as he sits down beside you.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Bucky apologizes immediately and you furrow your brows, wondering what he's apologizing for. "I should've noticed you with Agent Carter, but I didn't. I'm sorry."

A slight scoff leaves your lips and you shake your head, taking a sip of the Brandy. "It's fine, Bucky. You can do whatever you want," you tell him and Bucky frowns before taking your hand in his.

"The night before I left," he starts and your eyes glance towards his blue ones, feeling his thumb stroke the back of your hand, "when I asked to kiss you. Do you know why I did it?"

You swallow thickly as you think about it, wanting to assume it's because he liked you. "Because that chick left you at that car show? I assumed it was because you're lonely," you mumble, your heart breaking at the expression on Bucky's face.

"I kissed you because I didn't know if I was ever going to see you again. I kissed you because I wanted to know what it'd feel like in case I died over here. It was the best kiss of my life," he mumbles and your heart begins to pound against your chest.

"But, I'm here," you whisper to him and Bucky smiles softly, squeezing your hand.

He nods his head and scoots his chair closer to yours, his leg brushing against yours. "You are. Although, I don't like that you're this close to the enemy I'm really glad you're here," Bucky mumbles as the distance between your faces begins to diminish. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky's lips meet yours. You place your hand on his neck as his rests on your hips. Wolf whistles echo off the walls, causing the two of you to pull apart. You look over Bucky's shoulder to see Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos standing there with grins on their faces.

"We seem to have an audience," you giggle and Bucky looks over his shoulder before sighing.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks you and you nod your head.

Bucky laces his fingers with yours before leading you out of the bar, ignoring the cheers coming from his fellow soldiers. You press your face against his arm as the two of you walk together, his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand.

"I love you, James," you blurt out and Bucky looks down at you, squeezing your hand.

"I love you too, Y/N."

-

Taglist: @jessalyn-jpeg​ @bumblebet-20​ @queen-of-mischief​

[hermits-that-craft]

In My Dreams (Will You Remember Me?)

Flower Husbands Fic - Chapter Two - Can You Hear The Bumblebees Swarm?

Ao3 in the comments

Jimmy’s late. He doesn’t mean to be late to the meeting, and he knows that he won't be the latest to the meeting - he just prefers to be slightly early so that there's no chance for him to be late.

Landing roughly in The Overgrown, Jimmy dusts off his pants before walking inside Katherine’s meeting hall. Katherine smiles brightly at him, and Lizzie sits with Pearl, laughing.

“Early again, Codfather?” Katherine teases, and Lizzie turns her head. 

“I honestly thought I was late, Lizzie told me you changed the time?”

“Lizzie!” Katherine gasps, scandalised. “Why would you do that?”

“I remember growing up with him, it would take centuries to get him out of bed.” Lizzie smiles lightly, and Jimmy’s thankful for his mask, hiding the flush of his face.

“And it took longer to get you away from your window when Joel was pegging rocks at it.” Jimmy says lightly.

“Sleep well, Codfather?” Pearl asks, weaving herself a new sunflower crown.

“I could fall asleep for a while, but afterwards it was fine.” Jimmy lies easily, and Lizzie glares at him suspiciously.

“Oh! Any dreams?” Katherine asks. “We could try and work out if you’re an oracle.”

“Nothing important, just a dance in a flower field.” Jimmy pointedly ignores Lizzie as the other rulers slowly walk into the hall.

LDShadowLady whispers to you: Why didn’t you tell me? You whisper to LDShadowLady: Didn’t want to wake you, it wasn’t a nightmare anyways. LDShadowLady whispers to you: You promised me that you would. You whisper to LDShadowLady: I’m going to talk to Gem about it. I’m sick of being tired all the time LDShadowLady whispers to you: Thank goodness. I don’t want to have to worry about you anymore. You whisper to LDShadowLady: You won't anymore, I promise.

“Great, now that everyone’s here, let's start the meeting!” Katherine says. “Does anyone have any news to share?”

“Did you really call a meeting without any news to share?” Shubble asks, standing on her chair in order to see over the table. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, its just that we’ve all got empires to run and we’re kind of busy-”

“No, I do have news. I just wanted to open discussion to the table. If anyone else has anything to say.” Katherine smiles, and Jimmy watches Sausage and Fwip from the corner of his eyes. They seem off, smiling to themselves as though they have something to say, though their mouths are firmly closed.

“Well, Rivendell’s alchemists are working on a way to reverse the corruption,” Scott says, and Jimmy looks at the elven king. He’s tall, with soft blue hair and sapphire blue eyes and Jimmy has to tear his eyes away before he’s drowning in them. “If you all would allow it, I would like to send my alchemists to your kingdoms to observe and take samples of the corruption.”

“That sounds wonderful, I’d like to take you up on that offer.” Jimmy surprises the whole room, including himself, as he accepts Scott’s proposal. The aid will be necessary in order to protect his kingdom, and Joel did say that Scott might want to be allies.

He should find Scott after the meeting.

“I will also take you up on that offer.” Katherine agrees, giving Fwip and Sausage a warning look. “Is there any other topic to be brought up?”

“I don’t believe so.” Fwip says, and Jimmy winces under his mask. The steady voice, even and unsettling. Jimmy’s overthinking.

An even voice, carefully calculating, offering them an alliance, knowing full well that his husband will end up on the altar, to be sacrificed. Burning the banner, loosing his love before dying himself-

“-A ball, in honour of House Blossom’s continued strong alliances!” Katherine’s words shake Jimmy out of him stupor. “I would like to invite some of you to help in the building of a public hall so that we can all attend in luxury.”

“I can help.” Pearl agrees immediately.

“I’d love to help as well.” Gem agrees. “The Crystal Cliffs can offer some amethyst for the roof!”

“I’ll follow your instructions, if you’ll have me.” Jimmy offers with a polite smile, not believing that Katherine will take him up on the offer.

“Oh Jimmy, that’ll be such a great help!” Katherine accepts his offer, pointedly ignoring Fwip’s snort with a large smile. 

Oh no, Jimmy smiles. “No problem, Katherine. Anything for an ally.”

This was a horrid idea.

“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” Sausage asks. “My advisors are getting cross at my absence.”

“No, nothing.” Katherine says. “You’re all free to go.”

“Oh!” Jimmy says, as people begin to leave. “Gem, could I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” The wizard says, walking besides him as they head out of the meeting hall, “What can I help you with?”

“I was wondering what dreams mean?” Jimmy says.

“I’m sorry?”

And Jimmy spills. He tells her everything, the recurring nightmares, the screaming, the glowing, the shadow husband and the war and the dying in a way thats permanent, the green-yellow-red lives.

“I had one last night. But it was different this time. It wasn’t a nightmare, but it was the same place. Like something that happened only a few days before.” Jimmy says, wringing his hands.

“Oh my.” Gem says, concern lacing her expression. “I haven’t really experienced anything like this before, I’ll have to research it for you. Tell me if you have one again.”

“You sound like Lizzie.” Jimmy jokes. “But I will. Let me know what you discover?”

“Of course, it’s your health.” Gem says. “I have to get going, but I hope you sleep well tonight.”

“Thanks Gem.” Jimmy waves to her before she flies away.

He needs to get home, and pen a letter to Scott about their alliance.

----

Lizzie and Joel laugh as they sit in Joel’s dinning room, eating lunch and joking about snotty old advisors. The room is quiet, a cool breeze coming through the windows, high ceilings trapping the hot air above them, making the palace livable.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, your highnesses,” a soldier says, her voice slightly panicked. “But the King of Rivendell is here to speak with you both.”

Lizzie and Joel exchange nervous looks. She knows that Scott is allied with Sausage and Fwip, is this a declaration of war? Or perhaps a warning, since those two always were cowards? But he seems to be courting Jimmy, could it be an ask to marry her brother? After only a day?

Lizzie, admittedly, doesn’t know much about life on land, much less about elven culture.

“Of course, we’ll see him in the parlor.” Joel says, standing slowly. The young guard nods, rushing out of the room with an air of panic to her steps. “Are you alright, love?”

“If he’s here for war-”

“He wouldn’t be. You saw how he looked at Jimmy during Katherine’s meeting.” Joel says. “He’s probably just going to ask to court him.”

“That’s worse. You understand how thats worse, right?”

“Why is it worse?”

“Because Scott is allied with our enemies, with Jimmy’s enemies.”

“It's not official.” Joel reminder her quietly. “Rivendell remains firmly neutral in all conflicts, allying itself with only those closest for trade, Lizzie. Not for aid in war.”

“But-”

“Let’s hear him out.” Joel says. “And in the end, it’s Jimmy's decision.”

“Okay, fair enough.” Lizzie grumbles, playfully hitting her husband.

“Abuse! Abuse! Oh, how the love of my life wounds me.” Joel dramatisies as they walk to the parlor. 

They enter the room, watching as Scott stops nervously pacing. His wings twitch and puff out, which confuses Lizzie to no end. He looks either aggressive or scared - she could never tell the difference, since seagulls are only arrogant. 

“Hello, your highnesses.” Scott bows.

“King Scott.” Lizzie says, bowing back to the man. 

“Why do we earn the pleasure of having you here?” Joel asks, sitting down at a soft recliner, the one that Lizzie claims normally - how dare he?

“I would like to court Jimmy.” Scott says, as though he were announcing the end of the world. “And I have come to seek Lizzie’s permission specifically, as his elder sister.”

Joel and Lizzie exchange a look, both wearing the same ‘I told you so’ expression. However, this only seems to make Scott more nervous. He’ll need to adapt to their silent conversations if he wants to court Jimmy, Lizzie thinks quietly.

“I’m an excellent builder, having completely rebuilt Rivendell. My people can attest that I am both a wise and kind ruler, and I can provide Jimmy and the cod empire with years of prosperity.” Scott rambles, tugging nervously at his cape. “I’ll aid him in wars, and I’ll never raise a hand against him, no matter the circumstances.”

“Is this what you felt like when you asked my parents to court me?” Lizzie mumbles to Joel, and Scott continues on.

“Honestly, asking Jimmy was harder.” Joel replies. “He interrogated me when I asked him if I could marry you.”

“All bark, no bite my brother is.” Lizzie rolls her eyes. “Scott, how long have you been seeing Jimmy for?”

“I beg your pardon?” Scott says, blinking feverishly. 

“How long have you and Jimmy been dating?” Lizzie asks again. “I’m not going to be mad.”

“We haven’t seen each other..” Scott says. “That’s immoral, I couldn’t ask him out without your permission.”

“Is that an elf thing?” Lizzie asks Joel, semi loudly. “Or a land thing?”

“I believe it’s an elven culture.” Joel says, “Correct, Scott?”

“How do your people court?” Scott asks, eyebrows frowning ever so slightly.

“Well,” Lizzie begins, “We see each other for a while, then ask the others family to begin courting. Most civilians date for a few months, then begin courting, but us royals have to take it slowly.”

“Oh.” Scott winces.

“How do elves court?” Lizzie asks, cocking her head to the side.

“We ask a potential suitor’s family if we could begin courting, and then we court for a few months before we begin dating properly.” Scott says slowly. 

“Well, I have a few questions for you.” Lizzie says. “Before I can pass judgement on your potential relationship!”

“Lizzie, be nice.” Joel warns, before turning to a book he had left on the coffee table.

“I will, now, does Jimmy know that you like him?”

“No, thats why we court for a few months first.” Scott says. “To prove to our potential suitor that we are worthy of spending the rest of our life with them.”

“Interesting.” Lizzie nods, frowning at the window. “And you promise to stop if you make him uncomfortable?”

“The second he tells me to, I will stop all advances.” Scott promises.

“And you swear that you will never lay a hand on him?” Lizzie asks.

“I swear it.” Scott says. “I swear it on Aoer.”

“Final question.” Lizzie smiles at Scott. “Why do you like Jimmy?”

“He’s like the sun.” Scott says. “It’s like the world is in an eternal night without him around, even when he’s fighting my allies and he believes that I’m going to join them. Just standing near him is like seeing a sunset for the first time.”

“Damn, you have it bad for him.” Joel says, ignoring Lizzie as she slaps his arm. “Darling, I think you have to let him try his luck with Jimmy.”

“You are unreasonably in love with Jimmy.” Lizzie says, smiling softly. “You should court him, Scott. Don’t you dare hurt him, but may I be honest with you?”

“Thank you,” Scott gasps, flushed red with slight embarrassment. “And sure, what would you like to tell me?”

“I think you aren’t physically able to hurt Jimmy.” Lizzie says. “I think you’re too in love to even look him in the eye. Good luck, land boy.”

And Scott leaves the room, Joel openly laughing as he hears Scott whoop for joy as he flies off. It’s a lovely day, and the married couple can’t help but think that they secured Jimmy someone who would go to war for him. Perfect husband material.

They don’t notice the red eyes watching from the servants corridors. Why would they? Lizzie’s allowed Scott to try and win Jimmy’s heart.

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter one

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100

ao3 link

*

“Any messages, Gina?”

Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.

Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.

“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”

Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”

“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”

A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”

Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”

“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”

As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.

The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.

It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.

Scratch that, throughout the  world.  

Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.

*

Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit  GIRLS  red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.

She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.

“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.

“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”

Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t  not  show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.

The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”

Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.

Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.

“Yo, Beca!”

Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.

“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”

“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is  fire. ”

Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”

Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.

She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.

“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage…  Ariel! ”

The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.

There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.

Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.

Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.

It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.

Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.

Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.

This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something  had  to have happened for her to settle for this.

Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.

She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.

“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”

The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”

“Ariel.”

The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”

Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”

“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”

Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”

The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”

“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”

The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”

“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”

His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”

Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”

He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”

The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not  available .”

“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”

The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”

Dammit.  She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”

He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.

As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.

Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.

“What’s wrong?”  

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”  

Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”

A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed.  “What?”  

“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”

“Where??”

“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”

“What? Did you talk to her?”  

“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”  

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.

She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.

“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.

The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.

“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.

“Who’s asking?”

“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.

The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”

Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”

He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.

Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.

She wondered how far  Chloe  went.

She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.

The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.

Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.