#there’s no way to check and i was pretty sure i’d killed 2 before in emprise du lion. like 99% sure

[danielnelsen]

WHAT A WAY TO FINISH THE TRIAL ACHIEVEMENTS YOOOOOO

[luvergirl777]

Cleanin' Baby | Dean Winchester

Pairing | Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count | 12.5 k

Genre | Enemies to Lovers, Smut

Summary | Dean can't stand new people, especially people intruding on his life and telling him what to do. You drive him insane, Sam having to separate the two of you before fists and teeth start flying. You finally get under his skin for the last time with your dumb stunts, pushing him over the edge.

Index | Dean and reader fight constantly, Sam is the babysitter, Dean hates you because you are him, you're also incredibly hot, not that he'd admit it, perhaps maybe just a bit he admits it. Unprotected sex, wrap it up folks. Soft dom Dean, a bit of sub Dean. He's whipped and will listen to a pretty girl. Two idiots in love.

Dean is never fond of new people, it takes him a very long time to warm up to newcomers. When the two brothers find you battered and bruised, barely still alive after fending a demon off on your own, he’s a bit impressed. Upon further investigation, Sam watching over you, Dean realizes you had managed to damn it back to hell all on your own. Even more impressed, Dean is confused as to how you managed to survive. “You said it was aggressive?” Dean double checks, wondering if you somehow got lucky and encountered the impossible, un-aggressive demon. Sure, that would explain how you managed to survive on your own. 

“Are you fuckin’ stupid? You think I beat myself up after killing the damn thing?” 

“Well you didn’t technically kill it but-” 

“Oh shut up, pretty boy.” You grit, rolling your eyes as you hold onto Sam’s arm to stand up. Sam, ever so caring, nearly lifts your weight with no effort. He’s supporting all of your weight easily as you try and hobble along to safety. 

“Easy now sassy, you’re about one hit away from dying.”

“You gonna hit me?” The face you give him is unreadable, and Sam is preparing himself to jump in between the two of you if needed. You’ve stopped walking, completely turned around as you face Dean behind you. Dean, never one to back down, takes a step closer to you. 

“Guys, c’mon.” Sam intervenes, pushing his brother by the chest to create some distance between the two of you arguing. “You two sound like a couple of 5 year olds.”

Both you and Dean roll your eyes, and you’re hobbling your way out the door to get to some sort of hospital to get a check up. The pain is actually ridiculous, and if you weren’t so battered, you probably would've fought with Dean more. “Here, let us give you a ride,” Sam offers, quickly chasing you in fear you would topple after leaving his side. 

“She is NOT bleeding all over baby,” Dean protests as Sam walks you out of the door, taking you to the car. Dean closes the door behind him after glancing inside once more, still in disbelief of what the hell is happening. They burst open your door expecting to damn something to hell, and instead found you bleeding out in the middle of the floor. And now you and Dean are arguing as you hobble your way to the back of Baby. 

“You call this car baby?” You roll your eyes, “You gotta take care of her better if you’re gonna call her a fucking pet name. This thing has 2 years of fuckin’ dirt on it. Baby my ass.” Dean almost stops in place, arms raising slightly in defense, jaw dropped as he looks at Sam. Usually you're more pleasant, however, you're battered and bruised and in pain.

After absolutely giving it to Dean, you’re opening the back door and limply climbing in. You’re collapsing against the seat before Dean can jab at you. Dean wants to dish it out once again, and Sam slaps a hand over his mouth. He can’t deal with the two of you, he really can’t. Closing the door behind you, Sam’s turning around to talk sense into his stubborn older brother. “She damned a demon on her own, she could help us.” 

“Her, help us?” Dean scoffs, “Yeah, I’d rather be kicked in the balls.” 

“I’m about to if you don’t shut the hell up,” Sam shoves him around the car, “It could be good, finding someone to put you in your place every now and then.” 

That's how you met, and it’s been years already. Despite being together almost 24/7, you and Dean are still constantly at each other’s throats. If you’re not lashing out at Dean, he’s dishing some snarky shit out to you. Sam stays as uninvolved as he can, always letting you two at it before it’s clear intervention is needed. 

--- 

“You really don’t have to sit there and watch me like some hawk,” Dean’s annoyed as you perch yourself on a stool, watching as he works on Baby. It’s about a million degrees and Dean has refused to drink anything but alcohol and coffee for the past 24 hours, and not to mention it’s the middle of the day with the sun beating down overhead. “I don’t need a babysitter. “

“Sammy’s worried about you, said you’re going to have a heat stroke or pass out. Figure I’d come out here and pester you into coming back inside.” You shrug, completely unbothered as you don’t move from the stool. Your tone is nonchalant, only getting on his nerves more. Baby is technically sound and purring like a kitten on the road, Dean’s just been itching to tinker and a distraction from you waltzing around the bunker. “God know’s Sammy’s not gonna do it-” 

“Stop calling him that?” 

“Calling who what?” 

“Sammy.” Dean mumbles, already turning around from you to focus back on the engine. You’re already getting on his nerves, and if he looks at you any longer you’ll succeed in pestering him back into the house. “Go back inside and tell my nerdy little brother I’m fine out here. By myself.” 

“Sam’s not gonna take that for an answer.” You’re still calm and collected, leaning forward on the stool as you get a closer look at what Dean’s doing. You watch his hands work, nimble and quick as he easily gets into every corner he wants. There’s a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips at your thoughts, and you’re trying awfully hard not to laugh loudly. Dean can almost hear the joke writing itself in your head, and feel the smile growing on your face. “You know you’re really good with your fingers-” 

“Okay! You win!” And he’s storming back into the bunker to get water from an expectant Sam in the kitchen, already in a glass with ice. “Don’t.” He speaks to him, raising a finger to Sam. He can already hear the thoughts in his head, too. 

---

“Oh really, that’s your smart ass plan?” You mumble, listening to Dean attempt to explain the plan of waltzing into a bank and trying to sweet talk a bank teller to the vault. It would never in a million years happen, regardless of how annoying charming Dean could be. No one is that stupid, not even a bank secretary who doesn’t know who Dean is. 

“Well, if you have anything better, please enlighten me.” He’s slamming the folder down on the table in front of you, crossing his arms. 

“Anything is likely better-” When you stand up from your seat, and Dean steps toward you, Sam is quick to intervene before you two start dishing it out. 

“OKAY!” Sam basically yells to get your guy’s attention. You two calm down, you sitting down, Dean stepping away from you, and Sam finally taking a breath. 

---

Or the one time you drove Baby, absolutely full throttling her around turns as if you were a professional driver. In your defense, you didn’t crash and actually handled it quite well. Poor Sam is laying down in the back of the car, injured and praying you get to the hospital soon. But Dean was about to have a heart attack in the passenger seat of his car. He’s pressed against the door with the force you’re jerking the car around, gripping anything he can reach. 

“Never again, never again.” Dean almost prays underneath his breath, but he’s not and never will be a religious man.

---

Or the one time you were the bait for some creepy old man, needing to steal a weapon he had on display in his house. You were in the middle of his bed, about to fake vomit as he ran his hands along your waist. “Listen, I heard something you had. Something very impressive, an ancient weapon of sorts.” You purr, rolling your eyes as he goes along with it. 

“Of course I do, it’s in my office. I can show you after we’re done here.” He mumbles, and you’re swinging and clocking him against his temple, toppling him over. He lands with a thud on the hardwood floor, knocked out cold. At the commotion, Dean is bursting through the door. 

“HEY!” Dean screams, puffed up and ready for action. 

“He’s knocked out, dick for brains.” You mumble, climbing off of the bed and adjusting your dress which had ridden almost all the way up to your waist. He swears he catches a peek of the pink panties you’re wearing, but for his benefit, he’s trying to convince himself he saw nothing at all. News flash, not and never was going to work. Dean watches with wide eyes, his gaze following and trailing along your bare skin down to your thighs as you cover yourself back up. “Thanks for caring, pretty boy.” 

Dean rolls his eyes, walking over to the man that is unconscious against the hardwood floor. He’s mumbling something underneath his breath, landing one more blow onto the old bastard, before finally catching back up with you in the office. 

—-

You and Dean are on a hunt the first time he lays hands on you. You both had been separated, running and hiding in respective locations of the mouldy, broken down house. Dean’s frantic and stressed after hearing you yelp on the other side of the house, rushing over to find you and seeing no one. He's running around the house at this point, stopping for two seconds in the middle of the hallway to try and find his thoughts. 

A hand grabs his shoulder, grip hard enough to leave bruises underneath his jacket. He's whipping around before he can even think another thought, hand balled up into a tight fist as he spins. It’s too late to pull his punch when he realizes, eyes wide as he makes contact with your confused expression. He can pull it about 90%, softening the impending blow to your cheek bone. He's yelping for you when his fist makes contact with your skin, already groaning at himself. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Sorry! You scared me.” Dean’s explaining immediately, arms catching you before you even have the chance to stumble backwards from the blow. He cradles you before you can air out your grievances, one hand coming to hold your cheek in betrayal. “I thought they had you, god I thought they had you.” He mumbles as he holds you, reassuring both you and himself that you’re okay, or trying to at least. 

“Dean, god.” You groan, peering up to look at him. “Let's finish this job, please, without any more collateral damage.” You mumble, shuffling around to find your knife. “Fuckers took my blade.” 

“It's okay, I'll get them.” Dean mumbles, quickly pressing his lips to your hairline before letting you go. You stay behind Dean, this time a considerable distance, as he finishes the job and gets the both of you out of there safely. Dean has reason now, speeding out of there like hell after killing anything in his path. 

Getting back to the bunker, Dean parks the car and doesn’t move an inch. You already know why, and you already know the speech he’s about to dish out. “Listen-“ 

“It’s not your fault.” You immediately cut him off, shaking your head. You already have a bruise forming on your cheek despite Dean doing his best to pull his punch. The guilt eats him every time you look at each other and he has to divert his eyes. 

“Alrighty,” Dean presses his lips together as he thinks of another solution. “Give me one,” Dean nods, waving his hands to get you to come closer. You scoff at him, shaking your head as you fight off the laugh that bubbles. You’ve seen him and Sam go at each other like this, getting even in a way only brothers can. He taps his cheek, looking to the side. “Give me two, actually. One to make it even, one for putting my hands on a woman.” He waves you closer, dead serious. 

“Dean-“ 

“Lay 'em on me, one at a time, back to back, hard as you want, doesn’t matter, come on.” He’s still looking away from you, refusing to take no for an answer and he waits for the blows to land. He didn’t mean to, you know it, and you know he’s going to feel bad for a while. You scoff and shuffle, Dean tenses as he waits for the blow. You kiss his cheek, grabbing his face and turning it, before kissing his other cheek. 

“There, two blows, back to back.” You smile, “Now let’s go inside so I can get ice for my cheek.” 

Dean’s blushing like an idiot before scurrying after you, “I'll get the ice, you go lay down!” 

---

You had been sick for well over a week while the boys were on a job, sitting by yourself in a house and working as the information specialist for the time being. When they would call, you’d give them all the information you had been collecting within the past couple of hours. Always hours, never days, because you’d get too worried about them. Dean, not admitting it, also calls every couple of hours to make sure you’re still kicking. You sound like hell, and it’s becoming increasingly clear to him that you are not taking care of yourself while they’re away. 

Sam’s out on a home visit, and Dean is fidgeting with his phone in his hands. Pressing buttons, deleting the numbers, and the cycle repeats itself. Finally putting his big girl panties on, he dials your contact and calls. “Dean? Is everything okay?” Your voice is worried, the call slightly random from the semi-schedule you guys have grown accustomed to. 

“Hey, hey, yeah we’re good. Sam’s just out making some runs, you know.” He sounds awkward and like a loser, he already knows it. He can pretty much hear Sam’s voice mocking him. “Just wanted to call, see how you’re holding up. Taking that medicine I got? Eating everyday?” He’s interrogating you, for your well being of course. 

“The medicine you got me is like ketamine…or something.” You laugh. 

“What?! It is not-” 

“It so is! Some random pills you got from who knows where, from who knows, and you’re telling me to take them?” You’re scolding him softly, but he can still hear the humour in your voice. 

“Whatever, when we get back I’m gonna smother you back to good health.” You roll your eyes at this, Dean knows that without even being in the room with you. “Pills and all.” 

“Dean, whatever. Just don’t die and get back here soon.” You laugh softly on the other side of the phone. Dean can hear the tone of your voice, almost pleading with him. In your defense, the two of them had been gone for over a week on the job including travel time to get there. 

--- 

Dean will never admit it but after that he gets softer around you, starts looking out for you more than he lets on. He’s a softie, even if he won’t show it. The first time Dean almost dies since you’ve joined the team, it’s the first close call the three of you have had to someone actually dying. Sure, the three of you have been hurt and wounded, but nothing quite like when Dean’s guts were outside of his body for far too long to actually be okay. 

He’s been in surgery for hours at this point, Sam had left a while ago to try and put some distance in between him and his brother possibly dying in front of him. You’re left in the cold waiting room by yourself, elbows on your knees as you wait. Your face has been rubbed more times than you can count, one more and your face will come off. You curse Sam for leaving you alone, but part of you does understand as well. 

You rocket out of your seat at the beginning of “D-” whipping around to face the nurse before she can even finish his name. You’re frantic, sure, but you can’t help it. “Dean? Is it for Dean?” Your voice comes out more of a mumble, the poor nurse nodding her head softly. She leads a shaky you to his room, heart in your feet. The nurse stops at the front, stepping to the side to allow you to walk in on your own. It takes all willpower in your body to not immediately crumble to the floor at the sight. Dean’s eyes are open, squinted almost completely shut, as his head rolls over to the side to look at you. 

His eyes widen the slightest bit at the sight of you and not Sam and the tears immediately begin flowing down your face. You try hard not to audibly sob, but it’s taking a lot of effort. “H-hey, Dean.” You sound pathetic as you shuffle over to the side of his bed, almost scared that your presence alone will send him back into a near death state. As soon as you make it to the side of the bed, his arm reaches over and brushes against your leg. “You fucking dick!” You’re hysterical as he makes contact. “You can’t scare me like that! Ever! Don’t ever do that again!” Absolutely ridiculous as you crumble down onto the bed, your arms wrapping around his head. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He’s quick to comfort you, arms weakly wrapping around your waist. He grunts with the effort it takes in his current state. You’re almost climbing into the bed with him at this point, not wanting to let go of him. He’s trying not to cry with your state of general mess, seeing you so upset is getting him emotional. 

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, Dean. God, I was so scared. Sorry. Sam is just out to get some air. You know how he deals with this, I’m sure they’ve called him.” You’re prying your arms away from his form, sitting down on the bed next to him. Maybe it’s the hysterics, but you’re running your fingers through his hair and gently holding his face in the other hand. Leaning forward, you place the shakiest kiss on his forehead. “You’re never allowed to go by yourself ever again.” Sam walks in on the two of you like this, you obsessively petting his head while holding his face in the other palm. Your entire face is wet at this point, tears soaking your features. 

Sam lets you sit for a moment longer, the wet patch on your shirt indication that this is needed. Eventually, he has to butt in otherwise Dean will think his brother hates him. When he finally clears his throat, you almost scatter away from Dean.  

---

Eventually, you become a part of the little family they have. It takes a long time for Dean to come around, and Sam takes less time. When Sam lets you call him Sammy for the first time without correcting you as he does everyone else, Dean knows you're in for the long haul. Technically it’s the first and only time you’ve called him Sammy in front of him, the circumstances and situation making you talk before thinking. 

Sam and Dean had been fighting the entire job, at each other’s throats for something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Usually it’s banter and general sibling bickering, but this time it’s different. The tipping point comes when Dean mumbles something under his breath in the hotel room after a long day, Sam immediately reacting as he jolts up. Before you can even comprehend what the argument is about, fists are flying and the two are grappling each other. You’re watching with wide eyes, never quite seeing the two get this distant from each other. Sam is Dean’s baby brother, he’d do anything for him. 

“Guys, what, stop!” You mumble, trying to intervene as Sam has gotten Dean pinned by the throat underneath him. You know they wouldn’t do any permanent damage to each other, but you still feel your stomach flip at the position. “Guys, please!” Your eyes are watery and you’re trying with all of your force to pull Sam off of him. Sam, easily outweighing you, doesn’t budge an inch and is just more annoyed at you pulling him. 

“If you want to leave, leave. We don’t need you.” Dean spits, pushing at Sam’s arm that remains at his neck. Sam clenches his jaw, clicking his tongue. 

“I won’t come back this time.” Sam spits, deadly serious. You’ve never heard Sam this serious in the entire time you’ve known him, not on a hunt, not on an investigation, nothing. Dean’s about to say something before you’re slapping a hand over his mouth. You’re crying at this point, pathetically holding Sam’s arm as you rest your face against his shoulder. You can’t move him. 

“Sammy, please.” You cry, a horrid sob leaving your throat as you plead with him. Even Dean looks sideways at you, shocking him as well. At the plea, Sam steps back, releasing the pressure he’s holding Dean to. “Sammy, stop. You can’t leave us, we need you, please.” You cry softly, letting go of Dean’s face to hold Sam’s arm instead. 

“I- I’m sorry.” Sam mumbles softly, shrugging you off his arm in favour of pulling you into his embrace. “It’s okay, we’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam mumbles, trying to console you. You nod into his chest, reaching over to hold Dean’s face rather than slapping your hand over it. Dean leans into it, pushing his cheek into your palm. For the first time, it’s you being the negotiator between the two brothers rather than Sam being in between you and Dean. And for the first time, it was actually scary. 

---

With Sam, Dean doesn’t keep tally on who saves who’s ass. He’s family, it’s expected. And with you, he doesn't either. (He totally does, he just won’t admit it. However, you’re two up on him, and it kills him every time he thinks about it.) He swears to himself he’ll make it even eventually. 

---

Dean’s final straw is you washing Baby, wearing an all too small bikini as you wash the grime off of her. You had been giving him shit for it for awhile now, always quoting his dad on how he should’ve been taking better care of the car. It kills him, always being lectured about his precious baby that has been HIS car for years now. 

“What are you doing?” Dean asks, the front door of the house you’re staying in swinging open. He’s walking out just enough to watch closer, arms crossed as he stands on the sidewalk to the front door. You’re in the driveway, squatted down, washing the rims when he interrupts you. 

“Washing your dirty ass car.” 

“And why would you do that?”

“I have to ride around in the thing, it might as well look nice.” You shrug, continuing to wash. Your back is facing him when you talk, and Dean is watching almost your every move. His eyes trail down your back, over the curve of your ass, before landing on your thighs. They flex underneath your weight, a sight for sore eyes as he watches you. 

“No, smart ass, why are you doing it? Shouldn’t I be the one to wash my own car?” Dean mumbles, moving closer to you. You don’t budge, still crouched down next to his car. When he walks closer, it’s immediately a bad idea, and it’s too late before he realizes. 

“Well, you haven’t in let's say, the better part of 2 years so,” For the first time since he’s talked to you, you break your focus to look at him. Much closer to you, you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Still squatted down, in that tiny ass bikini you’re wearing. It covers enough of you to be legal, but god damn it, he’s reeling. 

“Don’t, don’t fucking do that.”

“Do what?!” 

“Acting like you don’t know what you’re doing.” Dean grits his teeth, squinting his eyes as he stares down at you. 

“What I know I’m doing is washing your car. You’re the one that came out here for whatever reason. To fight with me? Who fuckin’ knows.” You turn your attention back to the car, “You can help me, instead of sitting there and bitching. Shirt off though, that’s a requirement.” You laugh out the last part, reaching to the side and throwing soap at him. It makes his white shirt see through, showing his skin through the cloth. 

“This is ridiculous,” Dean sighs, rolling his eyes. For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to play along. For a moment,  you’re sure he’s just going to walk back into the house. You smile softly when he’s pulling his shirt off, throwing it somewhere back towards the front door. You giggle, now playing a game with him. You smile as he reaches into the bucket, taking another sponge and beginning to wash the back rim. 

In the time you’ve known him, Dean is easy to rile up. Some good banter, a few batted eyelashes, maybe even look up at him, and he’s a goner. You’ve seen him get more numbers at bars than you can count on both hands and feet, never leaving a town without one. It’s a part of why you’ve never made  a move, because you know him. And you know his type, and you know what he likes to do. Just a little bit of fun, a little playing here and there. Regardless, it’s fun. 

You giggle, moving from the rim you’re washing to the hood. You’re leaning over the hood, bending at the hips to reach the top. Dean stands up from the back, determined to watch you wash the hood. He scoffs softly, walking around to you. “You’re doing this wrong,” He mumbles. 

“You haven't washed this in years and you’re lecturing me?”

“Just, shut the hell up for a second.” He mumbles, reaching around you to move your arm. He moves the sponge in circular motions, leaning over you. His hips barely make contact with yours, only the side of his hip brushing against your ass. If he moves over a single step, he’d be completely behind your bent over form. Suddenly, it’s all too much, he’s too close, and you’re so incredibly warm. “What, you’re finally listening to me for once?” Dean chuckles at your silence. 

You’re quiet, face beginning to flush. “Not listening, smart ass. I’m just learning the right technique, according to you.” You’re pressing your ass against the hip that’s next to you, trying for the life of you to get him to move. His hand flys down to grab at your waist, holding you still. You’re still in this ridiculously small bikini, and his hand is now on your bare skin. 

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” Dean mumbles, his head falling forward slightly. His forehead hits your shoulder for a moment before he’s pulling himself up. Putting some space in between you, his hand still remains on your waist. For a moment, a realization hits him at how small your waist is, especially compared to his hands on your skin. 

“If i’m not, who else would be?” You giggle, leaning further forward to reach the very top of the hood. From his teaching, you wash small circles. “You know, everyone’s out of the house until later tonight, right? Some dinner, poker match. I’m surprised you didn’t go with them.” 

“What’re you saying, hm?” Dean mumbles, once again leaning over you. This time, he’s slightly more behind your hips, giving you more leverage to press back against him. 

You smile, feeling his chest hit your back as he leans forward, head beginning to nestle in the crook of your neck as he talks, lips brushing against your ear. As his weight falls further onto you, you allow your arms to fold as he presses against your back. You rest on your forearms, the change in position pressing harder into his hips. 

“Was this your plan the entire time, hm?” Dean grits, one hand moving to adjust your jaw, pushing your head to the side to make you look at him. “Wear this slutty excuse of a bikini, walk out here and wash my prized possession, get me to join? Hm?” 

“I wouldn’t say the entire time,” You giggle. “Maybe just since you walked out here.” You shrug, whining when he adjusts his hand, allowing his hand to move from your jaw to your neck. 

“This is unfair,” Dean mumbles, softly biting into your shoulder. “My favorite girl, out here washing my favorite car, and you expect me not to take the bait?” 

He allows his hand to move, instead of holding your waist, he holds your abdomen, pushing you back against him. You can feel him pressed against your skin, able to slot his hard cock in between your folds when you move a certain way. The fabric leaves little to the imagination, and he can feel the heat in between your legs. 

“You gonna be mean, and take me right here? Or be nice and take me to the bedroom hm?” You tease him, moaning softly when he grinds against you. 

“You know me, I like it all. So both.” He smiles, and though you can’t see it, you know. His fingertips dip underneath your bathing suit bottoms, trailing down to exactly where you need him. “You’re fucking soaked,” Dean mumbles, “You were thinking about this for awhile, huh? Pretending to just be washing my car, what a load of shit.” Dean mumbles, groaning softly as his fingers slip through your folds. He rubs gentle circles into your clit, slowly building pressure. 

“You, I, just maybe.” You whimper, immediately weak in the limbs as he toys with you. The circles speed up, drawing out the softest whines and whimpers. He chases the noises as if it’s his own high, humming along softly when you let out a particularly loud whimper. 

“How long have you been thinking of this, hm?” Dean asks, snaking one arm behind you as he gently slips a finger into your pussy, slow and careful in his movements. You whine even louder, tightening around his fingers as he slips in another, fucking into you while rubbing your clit with his other hand. He’s adamant, chasing your high before thinking of himself. “Answer me,” 

“Not long, since you’re all over every single girl you can get your hands on.” You mumble, riling him up. He fucks more roughly into you, grinding harshly against your g-spot. “Just need some relief, and you’re the only one here.” You’re lying through your teeth. 

“You know all that shit is just me messin’ around, and you’re a bad liar, you know that?” Dean mumbles, beginning to kiss along any skin he can reach. “This wet? And you expect me to believe this is for anyone, hm? I bet if Sammy came out here, you would’ve immediately covered up, huh, hide all of this.” His hands reach up to pull at your bikini top, exposing your tits to his touch. He roughly gropes and feels your skin, twisting and pulling at your nipples, punishing you for riling him up. 

“Okay, maybe not Sammy.” You shrug, “I could find a cutie at the bar, though, I’m sure.” His hand moves forward to wrap around your throat once again, squeezing just enough to make your mind fuzzy and to stop talking like a smart ass. 

“But you wouldn’t, if you wanted to, you would’ve already done it.” He shrugs, you can feel the movement against your shoulders. You’re close, squeezing down around him. You don’t even have to tell him, he’s already teasing and pulling your strings before you can speak. “See, who else can rile you up like this, hm?” 

“Can you make me cum, or are you all talk Dean?” You grit, almost unable to speak with him all over you like this. Every sense of you is filled with him, he’s all you can think of. 

“Yeah, sure,” He laughs softly when you clench hard around him, teetering close. “You don’t have to tell me you’re close, I can feel it. If you keep being smart with me, I can stop. It won’t take much, you know, rip this pretty little orgasm away from you in a second.”

His fingers slow, no longer giving you the stimulation you need to actually cum. “Please, please, I’m sorry. Please make me cum.” You plead with him. 

“There she is,” He laughs, speeding up once again to allow you to fall off the edge. When you come undone, it’s violent. Your legs shake, you tighten around him, and you thank god for baby underneath you to hold your weight up. Dean forces you to ride out the high, slowing down only barely to not push you into over-stimulation. 

“Fuck me.” You mumble, roughly pulling him closer to you. It doesn’t matter how, you need it. “Now, Dean, unless you can’t get it up in your old age-”

He slips one of his fingers into your mouth, roughly pulling on your cheek. “A please would be nice, huh Pretty girl?” Dean mumbles, and you can hear the sound of his belt unbuckling. It’s fast and hasty, and you already know he’s pissed off with you constantly nagging him. “Just demand demand demand, whine whine whine.” Dean grits, roughly pulling your bottoms to the side, “Is that all you do, huh?” He’s pushing into you before you can react, pulling a loud moan from you as he holds your mouth open. 

“Fuck, fuck, thank you,” You whimper, squeezing around him tightly. He bottoms out, grinding against your hips as he savours the feeling of being completely inside you. His hips are rough, battering into you with little remorse. Fucking the smart ass out of you, that’s what he’s gonna do or die trying. From the mewls and whimpers slipping past your lips without your control, he feels he’s doing a pretty good job. 

“That’s more like it, there’s my girl.” Dean groans, cock throbbing at hearing you finally shut up for the first time, literally, since he’s met you. For once in his life, you aren’t spitting some sarcastic ass shit at him, and he’s not spitting it back at you. “Feels good hm, does my girl feel good?” Dean’s deep voice sends goosebumps across your skin, the vibrations running through you like a live wire as you work yourself up further. 

“Your girl, hm? That’s new.” You mumble, moaning softly when his grip moves to press down on your tongue, stopping you from talking. Drool pools around his finger, and he groans when you wrap your lips around it, tongue moving slightly underneath his touch to run along the pad. 

“Is that a problem?” 

You can’t respond, and he knows it. You clench tightly around him, a vice grip in response, and he almost genuinely laughs at how needy you are for him. His hips react immediately to you, thrusting rougher into you, chasing the pleasure the both of you are feeling. Moving his grip from your waist, he begins rubbing tight circles against your clit, trying to get you over the edge. It doesn’t take much to get you to fall over the edge, legs shaking underneath both of your weight. 

“Good girl, easy, easy, ride it out. Don’t hurt yourself now,” Dean patronizes you gently, continuing to chase his own high. 

“Cum, cum Dean, please.” You mumble around his fingers, tightening around even further. You’re so tight and just absolutely soaked that he’s spilling into you soon after, chanting your name gently in your ear as he comes undone. “Fuck, fuck,” You mumble, finally beginning to relax as he slows down his movements. 

“C’mon pretty girl, I gotta give you the second half of my promise.” Dean laughs softly, “Or not, if you can’t take it.” 

“If I can’t take it? Are you kidding me?” You smile, carefully pushing yourself up on your hands, glancing back at him. “Let’s go, your bed so I don’t have to wash my sheets later.” At this, Dean rolls his eyes, of course. Still, the second you turn around to face him, he’s hoisting you up onto his waist, pushing at your legs to get you to wrap around his torso. He carries you easily, walking through the empty house and straight to his room. Your back hits the bed, Dean toppling with you soon after. 

“Gonna make soft mushy love to me, huh Dean?” You joke with him, your legs still wrapped around his torso, arms holding his head in your palms. 

“After bending you over Baby, yeah. Best of both worlds or whatever they say.” Dean smiles, his characteristic smirk etched on his face. His head dips down slightly, softly kissing against your jaw, moving down to your neck, before sucking light marks into your chest. Far enough down not to be interrogated by Sammy later, but enough to leave a reminder of him. His head continues to trail down, hands pulling at your bikini bottoms while he bites at your thighs, once again leaving his mark on your otherwise perfect, unbroken skin. 

“Never would’ve thought I’d have you here like this, hm?” He’s rolling his eyes at you, moaning softly when your hands come to pull at his hair. Your thighs rest on his shoulders, tightening the slightest bit around his head when he draws closer, finally making contact with you. “Fuck Dean, you gonna be nice, Dean, please?” 

“To you, of course.” 

Dean is skilled, to say the least. He knows what he’s doing, where he needs to work, what strings he needs to pull, how to get you there. Dean isn’t quiet about his skills either, you’ve heard sly remarks about the girls at bars, road side pubs, and everything in between. He’s living up to his legend, your thighs clamping around his head within minutes. You don’t let him get any smart ass remarks in, pulling him closer when you know he’s about to make fun of you. You control him so easily, muscular legs holding him in place. He’s not going to tell you, you’d never let him live it down, but he’s absolutely shaking at the thought of the hold you have over him. 

“Gonna cum for you Dean, you’re gonna make me cum.” You whine, thighs flexing to grind against his face. He moans into you, caught off guard by your movement. You do it again, whimpering when you realize he likes this, he’s into this. “Cumming, fuck, cumming.” 

His hands move to run along your thighs, trying to calm the shaking underneath his touch. “Good girl, so good for me.” Dean praises. Before he can react, you’re ripping him up. You're holding anywhere you can, forcing Dean to hover over you, legs once again around his waist. 

“You gonna let me kiss you, or is that crossing a line?” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Please.” Dean mumbles, sighing deeply when you immediately connect your lips. Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible. Dean wants to melt into you, fuse with you. He’s riling himself up, he knows that, but he swears your lips on him are heaven sent, curing his soul from whatever horrors it has been forced through. Like a breath of fresh air, like he’s alive again. He’d never tell you that, he can only imagine your reaction and the shit you would give him. 

You’re kissing him as if your life depends on it, hands tangling in his hair. Dean could kiss you for hours and not complain, he could do this all day if you’d let him. He’s unsure of how long you’ve been kissing him like this, so needy and whiny underneath him, but he doesn’t care. When he pulls away to catch his breath, your lips are slightly swollen, slick with saliva. Your face has flushed a bright red from the kiss, making you look cute despite being in such a lewd state. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” Dean mumbles, pupils blown wide as he stares down at you. 

You blush softly, but you try to hide it as just flushed cheeks. “Don’t get too sweet on me now.” You smile, tightening around his waist with your legs. 

“Right, right.” Dean smiles, fighting off a laugh when you reach to unbuckle his belt. He’s kicking the jeans off in record speed, you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him move that fast. He’s back with you just as fast. “Holy shit,” Dean mumbles, shaking as his cock slides in between  your folds, easily sliding with your slick. It’s so intimate that he’s unused to it, and there’s the smallest fear in his chest that he won’t last having you like this. “Fuck, pretty girl.” 

You whine as he pushes in, so slow that it makes you squirm underneath him. Bottoming out, he allows his head to fall forward, landing in the crook of your neck. “Dean,” 

“Just, fuck, give me a second.” 

“It’s okay,” You mumble, understanding his situation. While you’re understanding, you’re not forgiving as you clench around him like a vise. Your hands reach around, holding his back as you pull him close. You kiss along his skin, waiting until he calms down. 

Dean groans, unbelievable, it’s unbelievable how he’s stuck like this. “I can’t believe this shit,” Dean mumbles, drawing away from you to hook your legs over his elbows, folding you in half when he leans forward again. Finally having some sort of advantage, he’s able to target exactly where he needs to hit. “I feel like a fuckin teenager again.” 

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” You laugh, relishing in the moans that slip past his lips. Finally getting his wits about him, he’s able to finally move, grinding against you. Dean’s not going to last, he knows that, as he begins gently rubbing light circles into your clit. He’s gotta get some sort of leverage, something. Bending further forward, you’re covered entirely by his weight. When your lips gently connect with his, Dean thinks he could conquer the world. Kissing him so gently, so sweetly, has him absolutely reeling. 

“I love you,” Dean blurts, before he can even think to stop it. You don’t think he means it, not in any other way than being horny and worked up. “God, I fucking love you,” He mumbles again, shrugging your legs off of his arms in favour of caging you underneath him, head in between either of his arms as he kisses you. His hips don’t slow for a second, kissing you and chasing his high as if his life depends on it. He’s hitting your g-spot and grinding against your clit at the same time, kissing you as if he would die otherwise, and pressing all of his weight onto you. 

You can’t answer or speak, can’t tell him off for saying that shit mid-fuck. Maybe it’s the position that has him acting up, or it’s the softest he’s fucked in awhile and he doesn’t know how to behave. You’re pulling him closer by his back, kissing him back just as feverishly. 

“Cum for me pretty girl, please, need to feel you wrapped around me.” Dean moans, trailing a hand down in between your bodies. He’s on a mission, truly, needing to get you there before he can allow himself to. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” 

“Dean,” You whine, “Sensitive, ‘m sensitive.” You complain, overstimulated and worked up. 

“I know, I know. You’re doing so good for me, just one more. Come for me one more time, please. I need it, hm?” Dean pleads with you, “Doing so well for me, taking my cock so well.” Him talking you through it is almost all you need to tip over the edge, the smallest bit of stimulation you need. Throwing your head back, you can’t even look at him when you come undone. Dean kisses along your exposed neck, not leaving any marks for your own sake. 

“Please, please, Dean. Come, no more.” You whine, tightening around him from over-stimulation. You need him to cum, and have a break. You don’t have to tell him twice, hell, you don’t even have to tell him once. He’s been on edge since he brought you into his fucking room. His head is buried in your shoulder, and you whimper when he bites down into the skin. 

You’re so sore and over-stimulated, mumbling as his hips finally slow in their movement. “Y/n,” Dean is mumbling along with you, “Easy pretty girl, you’re okay,” He attempts to soothe you. “Listen, what I said.”

“Don’t do this Dean, it’s okay.” 

“I meant it, I mean it still.” Dean explains, carefully sliding out, careful to not accidentally stimulate you any further. You’re still caged underneath him, his arms around your head. 

“You don’t have to tell me that, it’s okay, really. Heat of the moment, or whatever.”

“Please, listen. I mean it.” He’s speaking so softly it’s genuinely been awhile since you’ve heard this tone, and it’s never been with you. With Sammy, likely. “I know you don’t believe me, and I wish I saved it for a more romantic moment, I do. But I do mean it.” 

“Is this what you say to every girl-”

“I haven’t been with anyone in forever, you know that. Getting a number is different, that’s just me trying to get information Y/N.” Dean speaks, pulling himself further off of you, giving you space. He’s reaching for his bag, trying to find something to cover you with. He finds a t-shirt, carefully putting it over your head. It goes down to your thighs, covering you. He’s snatching his boxers next, he’s gotta have some decency for this conversation. “I love you, Y/n. You don’t have to say it back, but you deserve to know the truth at least.” 

He’s fully prepared to be shut down, given your reaction thus far. You lean forward, and he thinks you’re about to climb away from him, move out of his bed. Your lips softly connect with his, the gentlest kiss. He’s smiling like an idiot into the kiss, almost unable to kiss you from the extent of his smile. “We can’t tell Sammy, he’ll think you’ve lost it.” Dean almost giggles at this, yes, giggles. What has gotten into him? What the actual hell is happening right now? Still, he nods along with you in agreement. 

“We can’t tell Sammy, or you don’t want to tell Sammy?” 

You’re rolling your eyes. “We don’t have to tell Sammy, he’ll know.” It’s the truth, he’ll figure it out before you or Dean even have a chance to tell him. Dean nods again, the faintest of smiles beginning to spread across his face again. It grows tenfold when you’re leaning forward, cupping his face in your palms, and once again kissing him. He’s shaking when you lean forward, forcing his back to hit the bed, your legs soon straddling his hips. You’re fully seated on his lap, legs underneath his body to give you more leverage to plant yourself against him. 

Your hands wrap around his head, pulling him into you. “Dean, say you love me again.” You mumble, diving back in to kiss him. He can barely mumble the words out, speaking with your lips on his the entire time. Not knowing it was possible, you’re kissing him harder. 

“Riling yourself up, pretty girl?” Dean chuckles softly, hands holding your waist snugly. His grip tightens when you grind against him, drawing out a strangled moan. Dean’s head falls back, face scrunching up. He can’t watch you grind against him in his t-shirt, he really can't. You’re so warm it makes him shake, completely bare as you grind against his boxers. You’re soaking through the cloth, he can feel it. He curses his old age in the back of his head, regretting he can’t recover as easily as he used to. You’re not too much younger than him, but it’s still making him frustrated as you’re ready for round 3. 

“Dean,” Your voice comes out as a whine, your body slumping forward as you curl into his warmth. Your hips continue to grind against his, lips running along his skin. You’re fighting off the urge to leave marks on his skin, losing yourself in the feeling of being close to him. 

“C’mon pretty girl, show me what you’re made of.” Dean’s already regretting his words. He knows you’re quite literally going to make him eat them. Your feet remain underneath his body, flexing as you seat yourself more heavily against him. Your hands move all over his body, finally stopping in his hair as you connect your lips with his. Deans losing his mind. He feels his thighs shake when you lift your weight up and reach down, pushing his boxers down past his hips. He assists you momentarily as he lifts both of your weight off the bed for easier removal. “Gonna make me regret my taunting?” 

“You know it.” You almost giggle, and it only solidifies his belief that he will, in fact, eat his words. You’re soaking wet as you make contact with him, easily sliding through your folds as you slowly and carefully rock your hips. Without warning, in one swift roll of your hips, he’s sheathed inside of you all the way to the hilt. 

“Fuck, fuck, goddamn it.” Dean’s head is thrown back against the pillow, muscles straining in his neck with the force he’s exerting. Your hips grind and roll against his, drawing the prettiest moans from yourself. Dean knew this was gonna happen, and yet he’s shocked that it is. “Should’ve, fuck, picked my words better.” 

Dean shuffles against the bed, sitting up so his back rests against the headboard. He easily pulls you along with him, hands securely holding you by the hips. He’s closer this way it feels like, can smell the sex and heat rolling off of your body. Your arms wrap around his head loosely, leaning down to connect your foreheads together. “Wanna cum like this Dean.” Your breath is basically a pant, grinding rougher as you chase whatever high you have left. 

“Do what you want, please, use me.” Dean’s losing it as he leans forward and marks your skin, too fucked out to even think about what he’s actually doing. You’re going to scold him for this later, something he’s almost sure of, but he can’t bring it in himself to care. You’re coming undone embarrassingly soon, clenched tightly around him as your thighs shake gently. Your hips never stop moving, riding out your high long past the comfortable point. “My girl, my good girl,” Dean is cooing, almost babbling when he watches you use him. 

He’s so overstimulated and so worked up it hurts, but he’ll grit his teeth and bare it if it means he gets to have you like this. You’re arguably more overstimulated than he is, legs shaking and small mewls or moans unconsciously slipping past your lips. He’s moving before you can react, your back hitting the bed. His hips pick up immediately where yours left off, pace barely faltering. You’re soaking wet, the sounds sending a shiver up his spine. “You’re so good to me, holy fuck, this is what I've been missing out on for years. Are you kidding me, fuck.” Dean groans, neck burying into your shoulder. 

“I just, fuck, haven’t been touched in awhile. Easily excitable,” You joke, legs moving to wrap around his torso. With the amount of effort it takes to whine that sentence out, he knows you’re lying. He huffs slightly in annoyance, a small smirk on his face at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation the two of you are in. 

“You’re so full of shit,” It’s gruff and harsh, his brows scrunching together with the effort he’s exerting. His abs have never been clenched harder in his life, torso rock solid from the over-stimulation and effort. “Even if you could quiet down and stop whining, you’d still give yourself away.” He teases you, and you know he’s right. “Wanna try it, hm pretty girl? Shhhh,” It’s gentle and soothing rather than rough, despite his situation. He gently shushes and coos to you, eventually getting your whining and moaning to mere pants. Like he said, you still give yourself away with the slick noises each time his hips roll into yours. “Do you fuckin hear yourself? Listen pretty girl, just listen.” 

You’re beyond fucked out, listening as Dean explains to you. Your lips are caught tightly in between your teeth, fighting hard to keep as quiet as you possibly can. Your head is thrown back against the bed, straining as your legs lock around his torso harder than before. “Dean,”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. I know, I know. You give yourself away, hm?” He mocks, hands coming to run along your thighs, squeezing the muscle underneath. “One more for me, just give me one more and I’ll clean you up all nice and gentle.” 

“I can’t-”

“Don’t be like that.” It’s soft, but just enough to be patronizing. 

“Please, let’s cum. Last one.” You whine, tightening almost impossibly around him. It’s hard to push in, so overworked and sensitive. Dean’s voice alone works you up more than you ever realized, and having him so close, talking in your ear like this. It’s bad news. Dean’s hips are stuttering as you wrap your legs tighter around his torso, working himself up now. The noises you’re making would be embarrassing if it wasn’t Dean, who’s so beyond into it. Maybe it’s the both of your instincts being heightened from years of fighting fuck knows what, but the front door opening has the both of you immediately stilling. 

Dean has never seen your eyes widen this much, almost comical as you look at him. There’s a wicked smile on his face as he shuffles his arms around, ever so gently placing his hand over your mouth. “Quiet, pretty girl.” Dean’s whispering in your ear, hips slowing just enough to grind into you, clit grinding against his skin. You’re fighting hard to keep quiet, opting to bite down on Dean’s hand instead. He’s hissing softly, repositioning so you bite into the side of his hand. 

“C’mon, give me some slack. Cum for me, please. I need to cum pretty girl, you’re gonna make me cum for you.” Dean swears your eyes are going to roll back and out of your skull and he’s going to be permanently like this with how you’re wrapped around him. Dean’s about to beg, he can feel the words on his tongue. Plead with you, even. His silent prayers are granted when your head throws itself back, your arms moving to wrap around his biceps. With the force you’re holding him, he thinks you’ll leave bruises. He’s following you soon after, hips faltering as he comes undone inside of you. Your legs lock around him and suddenly you’re a bodybuilder with the amount of strength you have. 

Your legs are securely locked, not allowing him to rock anymore, needing no more stimulation. Like you thought, you would be embarrassed with how wet you are if it wasn’t Dean who was the one making you sound like this. “The others are back, I have to go.” You whisper, immediately faltering when your weight settles on your legs. Your bottoms are put on with the help of Dean, who keeps you upright. Too fucked out, your legs are almost unusable as you wobble your way towards the door with bikini top in hand. You have to get going before everyone comes into the back of the house, that you know. 

“You can’t even walk straight.” Dean’s right behind you, trying to keep you up on your feet. He’s trying very hard not to laugh at your condition, but you can hear it in his voice. 

“We can’t scar Sam like this.” You’re trying hard not to giggle, slowly peeling open the door. Dean catches you before you can sprint away from him, yanking you back into his embrace. He's grinning down at you, lips softly pressing against yours. You're distracted, beginning to get lost in the kiss. Reminding you, Dean begins to peel the door open slightly. Once it’s open enough, you’re making a sprint for your room. You hear footsteps soon after you make it to your room, ear pressed against the door to listen. 

“Dean, do I wanna know why I just saw Y/N sprint across the hall in your tee shirt?” 

“No, no you do not.” 

The next case you work, Sam doesn’t mention a single thing. In fact, Sam doesn’t mention anything, ever, even the next morning when you’re awkwardly making coffee in the kitchen while he sits at the kitchen counter. Perhaps you should have asked how he felt about this before you went and created your master plan of you and Baby the other day. You’re sucking in your bottom lip as you’re thinking about how you’re going to bring this up, Dean out for the next half hour or so as he grabs food. 

“Sammy?” You mumble softly, placing a mug of black coffee on the table for him. He won’t drink it with cream or sugar anymore, neither does Dean. 

“Hm?” He asks absentmindedly, thumbing through the newspaper as he reads. He’s not listening to you, you know that. When he reads, he’s entirely immersed in the information he’s processing. He fumbled around for the coffee mug, and you slid it closer to where he’s smacking the table so he can actually find the handle. 

“It doesn’t bother you, right?” You ask softly, waiting for him to process what you asked after he finishes whatever sentence he’s currently on. You don’t have to specify, you already know he knows what you’re referring to. Finally, he breaks his focus from the paper to look at you since you’ve walked into the kitchen and started making coffee. (You don’t know it, but he looked at you to make sure you grabbed his mug as well.) 

He laughs, and for a second you’re disheartened. “Are you serious?” 

“I-what?” You don't know whether to be confused or offended. You were going to genuinely hear him out, but this is not the tone you were expecting. 

“You and Dean have been at each other’s throats since you met. I’m surprised you guys didn’t jump on each other sooner.” He laughs, sipping his coffee and shaking his head softly. He laughs at you more, “You think I would care about that? Oh my god, I’ve never seen Dean run out of the house faster this morning to get you food, wide eyed and bushy tail. I think he thought he was gonna surprise you with breakfast in bed.” 

“Fuck, should I go lay back down?” You genuinely wonder, making Sam laugh even harder. 

“You guys are ridiculous. You’re telling me this is the first time? I honestly thought you guys have been hate fucking since we met.” 

“Sammy, pleaseeeee.” You whine, tossing your head back. Sipping your coffee, you want to whine and pout. 

“No offense, but I don't care what the two of you guys get up to. As long as you’re happy and don’t die on a hunt because you’re distracted, it’s not a problem.” 

“Right, right. It won't interfere with hunting, I promise.” You nod your head to him, “But seriously, should I go get back into bed?” 

Sam laughs, shaking his head as he refocuses on the newspaper he’s reading. You don’t, because Dean’s walking into the door soon after your conversation with Dean. Making eye contact, his face falls completely and Sam was definitely correct with his guess of breakfast in bed. Regardless, Dean pretends he just got food and had no other motive. “Breakfast has arrived,” He announces, placing the bags on the table. “What, no coffee for me?!” 

“Oh come on, give me a break. You were nowhere in sight this morning.” You defend yourself, “Not even a BRB note, how was I supposed to know when you were coming back?” 

“Oh, but you’ll make Sammy one-”

“Sammy was sitting in here in the kitchen when I woke up-”

“In the mug you know I like-”

“What?! That’s his mug!”

“It totally isn’t! Just because he uses it more often than I do-”

“OKAY!” Sam interrupts, and he’s smiling like an idiot when you turn to look at him. Nothing has changed between you or Dean, and this just proves that. Sure, you’re eyeing him up like a starved woman, and Dean is trying hard to ignore you in your little pajamas, but nothing has changed between the two of you. “You guys gonna eat or fuck against the kitchen counter?” 

Both you and Dean groan in annoyance, sitting down at the table and rummaging through the bags. After breakfast, you guys go over the main points of the new case you’re working on. The drive makes you want to bash your face into Baby’s window over and over, and you can already feel the tiredness in your bones. You guys start the drive not long after, packing up everything and getting a jump start to the job. 7 hours in and Sam switches with Dean to drive, now in the passenger seat. 

You kick the seat when he leans it back and pins your legs to the backseat, “Don’t make me come back there!” He threatens, to which you stick your tongue out at him. Another seven hours in and you’re switching with Sam, who sleeps in the backseat. 

You and Dean talk in the front. “So, Sammy doesn’t care then?” Dean whispers, and you shake your head no. You’re whispering in an attempt to not disturb Sam, even though you think Sam could sleep through an earthquake. Giving him some type of courtesy, you try to keep the noise down to a minimum. 

“Sammy said he thought we had been, quote, hate fucking since we first met, end quote.” You giggle, glancing over at him with a sheepish smile. Dean is trying awfully hard not to howl laugh right now, and god is it hard. You giggle softly, shaking your head at him. 

“Well, in that case.” Dean shrugs, reaching over the front bench and grabbing the inside of your thigh as you drive. 

“Winchester.” You warn, genuinely warn, as your voice remains low and calm. 

“What? You said he doesn’t care.” Dean mumbles, chuckling softly. Glancing back into the back seat, Sam is passed out. He wouldn’t do that in front of Sammy, but he can push your buttons. Dean slides his hand closer to your hip, slipping down onto your inner thigh further. You give him no reaction, knowing the second you do it’ll only fuel the fire. Dean bites at his lips, trying extremely hard not to laugh at your resolute attitude. His fingers dip underneath the waistband of your shorts, making your hips jolt back into the bench. 

You’re grabbing his hand, ripping it backwards and twisting his arm. “Fuck, I love it when you’re rough with me.” Dean groans softly, a smile still playing on his features. “Okay, okay sweetheart, I hear you loud and clear.” He smiles, pulling his arm free and kissing your knuckles. 

You finally get to the motel after what feels like 2000 years, you driving the last leg of the trip. Sam shuffles into the motel without saying a word to either of you and Dean, still half asleep as he pushes into the room. He’s  falling into the bed and back asleep in no time, and you and Dean share a look. Dean has a soft chuckle, and you giggle when he slides his hand across your thigh, pulling you by your hips across the bench of Baby. 

“No, no, no pretty boy. You made me drive the shitty shift.” You mumble, shuffling so you’re pressed against him. He’s easily manipulated, allowing his body to fall back against the passenger side door. Your legs easily swing over his hips, settling down on his lap with ease. You hate driving at night, and he knows that. “And you’ve been teasing me for the past 20 miles. I’m gonna do what I want, and if you ask nice enough by the end of this, i’ll let you cum, hm?” 

Dean whimpers from underneath you, eyebrows knitting together as you speak to him however you like. When you slam your lips down onto his, he groans into it. You’re frustrated, and annoyed, and slightly angry but not exactly at him. You need an outlet, and Dean is a willing one. Your hips press heavily down into his, using your legs underneath him as leverage to seat yourself against him. Your hands are everywhere and anywhere, running all along his skin underneath his clothes. There’s a whimper that escapes him when you rip off your shirt, not allowing him the pleasure of doing so. 

“This isn’t fair-” You grip his face in between your hands, holding his chin. With the slight pressure, his lips pucker out slightly. You gently peck his lips like this, releasing some of the grip you have on his face. Dean’s hands land on your waist, gently brushing and rubbing along any exposed skin you’ll allow him. 

“Be good, Dean.” You mumble, “You’ll be good for me, hm?” You ask softly, picking your hips up enough to yank your shorts and underwear off in one swift movement. “Let me ride your fingers, baby, get me ready to take you.” You command, voice leaving zero room for disagreement. 

“Yes, yes,” He mumbles absentmindedly, hands shuffling to slip further down your hips. You hiss softly as he makes contact with your clit, well practiced and well trained at this point. He gently rubs along your clit, drawing soft, tight circles into the bud. There’s a small gasp as he slides a digit in, expertly curling and moving in the way he knows you like. You pant softly when your hips grind against him on their own, searching for any touch or stimulation he’ll allow you to have. You chase it like you need it to live, to breathe. And Dean chases the little whimpers and whines as if he’ll die without them. Another digit makes you slump down against him slightly, seeking his warmth and closeness, hips still moving against him. 

“My pretty boy Dean.” You whimper, mumbling partially against his lips as you talk. One of your hands rest behind his head, the other one running your fingers through his hair. Dean reels at the soft compliment, head pushing into your hand as he seeks for your touch. You’re using him like a goddamn toy, and he can’t help but twitch at the thought. He’d let you do anything, anything you ask if it’s from your pretty little mouth. You kiss him hungrily, breaking contact more often than he wants as you moan and pant against him. He seeks your kiss, neck craning up. 

Your hands sloppily fumble with his jean buttons, wanting them off right this second, losing your patience. You push them just below his hips, freeing his cock from his boxers. “Easy, pretty girl, you gotta let me make you cum first.” Dean mumbles, leaning forward to kiss your neck that is burning up. 

“Need you,”

“Need you to feel good, baby.” Dean mumbles, working more feverishly into you to push you past the edge. There’s a boost in his pride when you fall apart against him, arms locking around his head gently as you cum. 

“Dean, wanna fuck you. You gonna let me do that?” You mumble, carefully taking him in your hand. Dean hisses when he slips in between your folds, head thrown against baby for some sort of stability as he tries to compose himself. Cumming when she wants me too, he reminds himself. Your hands are gentle but firm, and dean’s more than aware you’re not giving up your current position on top of him. 

“Gonna let you do anything,” dean mumbles, picking his head up slightly as he watches you line his cock up. He fights to keep his head up, watching as you devour inch by inch of his length. You’re grinning wide when you catch him. 

“Gonna watch me take you? Gonna watch me fuck you, hm?” you pant softly against his lips, snapping your hips down against his. You grind and rub against his his pelvic bone, fully seated against him, tip of his cock rubbing against your cervix. Dean’s head falls back against the door, unable to watch. He can’t watch this without cumming earlier than your word. He groans when you hear the tsk sound as you kiss your teeth, whimpering when you pick his head up. 

“I’m trying to listen to you, don’t wanna cum early sweetheart.” Dean mumbles, biting hard onto his bottom lip. His eyes are half-lidded as he watches you take him, a shiver running up his spine as he tries not to think about anything for too long. You’re so tight, and wet, and just absolutely pulsing around him. He’s sure there’s a pile underneath him from how wet you are around him, his abs clenched harder than he thought possible as he fights off his orgasm. “God damn it, baby. You’re gonna fucking kill me.” he groans, reaching down and rubbing tight circles into your clit. The sharp gasp sends goosebumps up his arms, listening to your soft noises. 

“This is cheating Dean,” You moan, continuing to fuck yourself down onto him. 

“C'mon baby, lemme have it pretty girl,” Dean whimpers, doing his best to snap his hips up against you. Your weight jolts against him, allowing him more room to snap his hips up. He grins, as he finally has some advantage as he fucks into you. When you come undone, it’s shaky and messy, hips slamming down against Dean's to get the movement to stop. His hips continue to rut into you, milking the orgasm for as long as you’ll let him. 

“Being so good Dean,” You coo into his ear, your face burying itself into his neck. Dean's quite literally fraying at the edges trying to hold himself together. He could cry, eyes watering as he screws his eyes shut. 

“C'mon baby, cut me some slack,” He groans, sitting up abruptly to lean into your body. You squeal slightly at how quickly he jostles you around, your legs wrapping around his torso as he moves. 

“I like seeing you so pent up, ‘s cute,” You mumble, holding his head in your palms as you kiss him. Reaching around, you softly pull at his hair, scratching his head where you’re pulling. Your hips grind against him, doing more for you than him. Dean's hands grip your waist and thighs, moving you against him. 

“Wanna be good for you,” Dean groans, leaning forward to bite into your shoulder. 

You smile, holding him gently by his neck as you lean back, taking him with you. He’s groaning into your skin, head falling into your shoulder. “C'mon, want you to feel good,” You mumble, catching his lips gently when his head picks up to glance at you. 

“I do feel good. Feel good if you’re feeling good,” Dean grunts, hissing softly when you push his hips before pulling him back in with your heels. He almost wants to let you make him cum like this, but the shake in your thighs assured him you wouldn’t be able to. “My girl,” Dean moans softly, snapping his hips into you. Your soft mewls spur him on, groaning softly when your hands pull at his hair. Dean's losing it, moaning into the crook of your neck as he buries his face into your skin. 

His weight is pressed entirely against you, elbows digging into the seat on either side of you. You're whimpering in his ear, and he’s been holding off for what feels like years at this point. You pick his head up, pressing your lips to his. The both of you are moaning and panting so hard it’s difficult to kiss, riling yourselves up. “Feels good, Dean, do I make you feel good?” You pant against his lips, legs squeezing tighter around his waist. Your hands are all over him, touching any inch of skin you can, feeling every muscle flexing with the effort of his ministrations. “Talk to me Winchester, my pretty boy.” You moan, one particular thrust sending goosebumps across your skin. 

“I- fuck- can't.” Dean almost grunts, lips never leaving yours as he talks. “ ‘s too good, this pussy, fuck, made for me.” He groans, lips leaving yours to kiss along your cheek and jaw. Your hands settle on his biceps, trying hard to ground yourself here with him. “Never wanna leave it, never wanna leave you.” He groans, pulling you closer by the back of your neck to properly kiss you. “Fuck, please let me cum.”

You hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for you, a giant smile creeping over your face at how good he is. “Cum, Dean. Cum inside me, please, need it.” You mumble, grip tightening to hold yourself against him as he roughly fucks into you, chasing the high he’s been craving. You squeal and jerk under him as he bites into your shoulder, roughly laving over it with his tongue to relieve the pain. You squeeze tighter around him from it, making his hips falter in their place. You’re over-sensitive, beginning to squirm. “Cum, Dean, please, can’t take it.” You whine, tightening almost impossibly more. 

“Fuck, taking it so good. Just a bit more, be patient for me sweetheart.” Dean groans against your ear, thrusts becoming more erratic as he finally lets himself go. Your legs are practically numb as he buries himself to the hilt, cumming inside you. You complain softly as he lazily fucks his cum into you, enjoying the absolute mess you’re making underneath him. 

“Please-” You hiccup, pulling his hair softly. Dean slows, stilling as he kisses you properly for the first time in forever, no longer panting and moaning against you. You relish in it, not rushing as you kiss him back. 

“I think I’ll make you drive the shit shift more often.” He’s smiling, carefully getting you cleaned up. He’s proud of how fucked out you are, pride oozing from his demenor. You have the same pride, knowing the second he touches that motel bed he’ll be out for the night. 

You peck him quickly, not wanting to rile him up again. “Sure, but next time you wont cum.” You giggle, taking off before he has the wit to catch you and pin you to baby again. Running into the motel room where Sam is knocked out, you're in the shower before Dean can catch up to you. You hear a snarky remark from the other side of the door, making you giggle.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 7

(This is the second part posted on the same day! Make sure you didn’t miss 6!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

M!troll x f!reader

1.2k words (tw for mention/suggestion of assault)

Zen’jan’s secret left you reeling and without a plan you left the city, but is the wilds really any better?

————

All the air left your lungs at his words, you want to scream but could not even manage that.

“It is alright” Zen’jan said trying to reassure you while getting up and taking a step towards you, finger still bleeding and dagger still in hand, “You are safe here, I promise! Please just sit and listen to me” he took another step towards you and reached for your hand.

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed at him, finally finding your voice. The clawing panic was rising in your throat, threatening to strangle you into silence again.

You looked at the man in front of you, the man who had been taking care of you and watching over you, it was like he was a complete stranger all over again. A follower of the Shadows, and avatar of the God of Shadows!

He looked visibly hurt and took a step back, “I am so sorry, I know I should not have sprang this on you, but please just listen to me, to Tsov’ka” slowly he reached his hand back out to you.

“No! Leave me alone!” you scrambled away from the shrine, away from Zen’jan. You did not know where you were going, but you had to get away. The brighter lights of the other shrine rooms and then the daylight blinded you, but once more being in the light comforted you and shook the deep chill out of your bones.

You kept moving, putting as much distance between yourself and the shrines, and hopefully Zen’jan. Nowhere felt safe, not home, not anywhere in the city, no one to talk to.

Out of the city it was then. You passed under the main gates that lead out of the ravine and into the surrounding grasslands. A few times you came out here with Bira, you knew it was pretty safe, especially if you followed along the small mountain ranged that housed the city.

For hours you walked, at first occasionally seeing people or passing by farms until they got fewer and fewer until you truly were alone. You did not have a plan, all you knew was that going back to the city was not an option.

You walked until your legs nearly gave out, collapsing into a sobbing mess, leaning against one of the very few trees in the grasslands for a needed bit of shade. It was a bit before midday when you had left, now the sun had moved fairly far along its path and would start in set in the next hour or so.

You curled up, maybe a nap would help you clear you mind a little.

“What’s a human doing way out here?” came a man’s voice that jolted you awake.

“Isn’t she the Lord Admiral’s daughter? The one that got married off?” came a second voice.

“Lucky day if she is” said the first one again.

You cracked your eyes open just enough to check your surroundings. Several human men stood around you, still not aware you had woken up.

“Whatcha figure she’s doing out here?” asked another.

“Who knows, who cares. You know the reward on her if anyone gets her back to her father? Set for life” answered the first.

Your father? None of it particularly made sense, you were tired and dehydrated, but at least this could be your way out.

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she? Shame she’s been ruined by a fucking monster” another chimed in.

“Speak for yourself, I’d still fuck her” the second piped up.

“Isn’t the reward for either bringing her back or for making it look like the monsters killed her?” came one of the previous voices.

“It is, it’s anything they can use to righteously start this war again. Get her home and let her father spin some horrible tales, or just kill her now and make it look like the monsters turned on her” answered the first again.

The War. It had only ended a few months ago. The death toll on both sides had been horrific, though most of the fighting all happened on the seas and grasslands surrounding the city here, and you had seen just how bad it was.

“Seems like a lot of effort to bring her back, another mouth to feed and supplies are already low. I say have a little fun with her and the just kill her” one suggested.

Your heart was racing, suddenly things were going sideways very fast. There looked to be six or so of them and only one of you, not good odds. You weighed the chances of bolting, though you were not sure if you could get away fast enough.

“Fine, it’s all the same in the end. Grab her and bring her back to camp at least though”.

You decided to take your chances, it looked like either die for sure soon or at least try to live. With whatever strength you could muster you leapt up and booked it, only making it a few steps before you were grabbed by your wrist.

“Now where do you think you’re going, little thing? And how much did you hear?” asked the first. He was an imposing man, the quintessential bandit looking type, as were the others.

You screamed, loud as you could until he placed a hand over your mouth.

“Screaming isn’t going to do anything, you’re miles and miles from anyone else, and you’re going to give me a headache with all that. Someone, knock her out”.

Before you could register anything else you were hit with a blinding pain on the back of your head, then blackness.

You awoke with a splitting headache and to the muffled sounds of voices.

“…in a bit, where’s she going anyways? Her hands are tied” one said.

It was dark, you had been tossed in a tent with your hands tied and left alone for now. Tears streamed down your face. You ran from the shadows, you heeded the teachings of the Light, why didn't the Light protect you?

It was getting cold with the sun down now, you could see the shadows cast by the fire poking under the tent, but its warmth could not reach you.

“It’s fucking cold, isn’t it?” one of the men asked.

“Toss some more wood on the fire then” another replied.

“And it’s fucking dark” the first speaker said.

“It’s nighttime, of course it’s dark you f-” he was cut off.

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, then the world was plunged into inky black darkness.

Screaming and snarling pierced through the stillness. Bloodcurdling screams of dying men and the snarls of something else. You held you breath and squeezed your eyes shut while you tried to block out the sounds of death. Fear gripped you and you just hoped whatever was out there would miss you.

Moments dragged to minutes, to what felt like an eternity until nothing but silence remained and the glow of the fire returned. Cautiously you peered under the edge of the tent, nearly retching at the sight. Blood soaked the ground in shiny puddles, men lay in shreds, mauled to the point of being unrecognizable amongst the viscera.

“I am so sorry” came a familiar voice at the door of the tent.

You looked up to see a figured cloaked in shadows, but it was a familiar one.

“Zen?”

And once more the world was black.

Part 8

[cloudwhisper23]

I'm too lazy to format, so if you want proper formatting on this, I've posted it on Ao3! This is a continuation from the last art trade I did with @pixlokita about their Werebunny Jeremy AU (we've decided to call it Cut Right Through Me)

Below the cut is the link to the story on Ao3, and the full part that I just completed! Fair warning, this is a pretty decent length, roughly 9k words. Enjoy!

“You’re mean, you know that?” Jeremy said irritably as he dropped into the passenger seat.

“I don’t care. He’s dangerous, Jeremy.”

“Dangerous, yet you apparently have been calling him,” Jeremy muttered, slouching in the chair.

“To find you! Speaking of, where were you this week?”

“Around.”

“Not home.” Ramona shot him a glare as she backed out of the driveway. “Which by the way, I went to your house. It’s an absolute mess. And you know how to get bloodstains out of things-“

“I was going to get to it.” Don’t mention Percy, please don’t remind me. Jeremy wished he was back in Michael’s house, still being interrogated for being there. It was much better than the absolute grilling he was getting from his sister.

“You’re lucky I helped clean up,” Ramona sniffed. “And you owe me for Percy’s vet bills, by the way. I know you’re a disaster on a regular basis, but whatever crisis you had will not get you out of your responsibilities mister.”

“Vet bills?” Jeremy echoed, flinching slightly when she mentioned Percy.

“Yeah, I had to take Percy to the vet. Some animal must’ve broken into your house after you ran off or something because he was hiding in your room scared out of his wits and covered in dried blood. He’ll be fine, but honestly. What could’ve been so important that you ran off and left Percy to fend for himself?”

“I didn’t know Percy survived,” Jeremy answered quietly.

“Well, you should’ve checked,” Ramona replied grimly. “He’s only still alive because I went to find you.”

“Yeah…” Jeremy pulled his shirt up over his head to bury the way his eyes were swimming. Everything was just too much for him right now. “Can you just- Can we go back to your house? I don’t think I can go home right now.”

“That’s where we’re headed,” Ramona answered gently. “I’m sorry to yell at you, Jer. I really am. I was just worried.”

“I know…” Jeremy rubbed his face into the soft fabric of the shirt. He wished he could’ve had a chance to apologize or make some kind of effort to befriend Michael before they’d abruptly left. “If it helps, I hardly remember anything from the last few days.”

“I noticed.” Ramona’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Hey, maybe we could go visit Becky for a bit. I know it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. I’m guessing you haven’t seen her lately either.”

“I can’t,” Jeremy said softly. He didn’t know when he’d transform again, and he couldn’t bear to have it happen around his family, not when he knew that Becky would dig straight for the cause of it, probably making him have to go through it longer than he wanted anyway. He wanted to have something for his friend to work with when he shared the problem.

Or maybe he wanted to handle something himself for once.

“Jer, are you sure? Not to push you or anything, but I’m probably going to head there at the end of the week. I was already planning the trip before you vanished, and now that you’re back-“

“I wouldn’t want to stop you from going,” Jeremy interrupted firmly. “I need to finish up some loose ends around here before I’d go. But if you could take Percy with you, I’d appreciate it.”

Maybe it would be best to just disappear. To be hunted and killed like the monster he was while Ramona was out of town. While she was safe.

“If you’re sure,” Ramona said, sounding hesitant still. “I’ll take Percy with me. I’m sure Becky misses him as much as he probably misses her.”

“Well, he is the son of her old dog. I’d be surprised if she didn’t miss him,” Jeremy answered, finally peeking out of his shirt.

“You’re such a big baby sometimes, Jeremy,” Ramona said softly, shaking his shoulder. “We’ll get you sorted out. Maybe find you a man to help you relieve your stress. You certainly need that-“

“Stop, stop. We’re not having this conversation-“

“If you just tried to have a relationship-“

“I thought you were all about not having a man to rely on for everything,” Jeremy countered.

“Well, I have different biases.”

“You only agreed because Becky said it first,” Jeremy accused, elbowing his sister.

“Hey, no assaulting the driver. Besides, I never said you have to rely on him for everything. Just… some things.”

“I’m less shallow than you,” Jeremy replied, huffing as he returned his gaze to the window.

“Oh, I doubt that. I saw the way you were eying up Michael. You wanted him,” Ramona teased.

“Oh, come on, I’m allowed to think a guy is hot, Mona! And he’s-“

“Just your type. Except I don’t think his personality is right for you. He’s too bitter, too grouchy. Not good enough for my little ball of sunshine.”

“I have four inches on you,” Jeremy argued.

“Not where it counts,” Ramona hummed in reply. “But seriously. I’m going to emphasize this, so pay attention. Don’t you dare go pining after Michael Afton.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “I think you already burned that bridge too badly to rebuild.”

“Good. But if there’s still a silver of doubt in your mind, I’m going to update you on everything once we get home. That man has a bloody history.”

“So you’re calling him some kind of monster?” Jeremy scoffed. “Come on, he called you right away when he found me, didn’t he?”

“How do we know it was right away? Maybe he drugs people for kicks and-“

“Just because I don’t remember the last few days does not mean I don’t remember last night. And nothing happened! We didn’t have sex, I promise you.”

“Mhm,” Ramona sounded unconvinced. “If you say so.”

“I’m never going to get you to believe me on any of this stuff, am I?” Jeremy groaned hiding his face as it burned. He shouldn’t be thinking of Michael in that context, especially now. “You’re so mean to me.”

“I love you too, Jeremy.”

Jeremy went to take a nap when he got to his sister’s apartment, crashing immediately on the couch. He needed to fix his sleep for work later that night anyway.

Ramona dragged him away from his nap to give him a bunch of information about the background of Fazbear Entertainment, and the whole reason she was suspicious of Michael. Clearly, she wasn’t done with their earlier conversation. She really doesn’t believe that I’ll leave it alone, Jeremy thought to himself as she dropped a bunch of newspaper clippings into his lap.

“He killed his little brother, Jeremy.”

“Allegedly.” Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed the newspaper.

“And his father killed a bunch of kids back in 1985. At the same location you’ve been working at.”

“They never proved that,” Jeremy argued. He shoved the paper away, avoiding looking at the image of Evan Afton. The kid gave him an uneasy feeling.

“You can’t deny the evidence. Just because they weren’t convicted of murder doesn’t mean they didn’t kill anyone.”

That’s exactly what that’s supposed to mean, actually. Jeremy’s mouth thinned. He gave the newspapers back to his sister. “Okay, fine. Whatever.”

“Jeremy-“

“Can I please just take a nap in peace?” Jeremy begged. “I don’t need this extra stuff.”

Jeremy was glad to be able to get away again later that day. He knew his sleep was skewed, and he’d probably be exhausted for work, but he didn’t care. That was one thing he could rely on to be consistent. They’d be fine so long as he clocked in on time and clocked out. And if the animatronics caught him off guard, so be it.

He’d missed enough shifts already, and even without his uniform, he’d be fine going into work. Who was going to see him anyway?

He clocked in early, fiddling with his flashlight as he started his patrol. It was considered dumb to do things like this, he knew, but he hadn’t had any issues with walking around during his shift yet. And even if he did, he doubted the animatronics could do much to him anyway, now that he remembered the incident with Toy Bonnie.

The only real question was whether or not that golden bear would come back to kick him out again, but since Jeremy had never seen the bear before that time, he guessed it was a very rare occurrence thing that only happened if an animatronic was hurt or damaged. Then why wouldn’t it be protecting Mangle?

Shaking the weird thought out of his head, Jeremy stepped into Parts and Service, hoping he’d see the glint of his keys somewhere on the floor. Fritz usually forgot to lock up, and Jeremy had taken up the habit of locking up behind him. Since he’d lost his keys the last time he’d been in for a shift, he figured they’d be around somewhere.

He found himself out of luck. Sighing, Jeremy checked that all the old animatronics were still on the floor. Bonnie was still around, and with a twinge of guilt, Jeremy spotted Toy Bonnie’s mangled remains tucked between Bonnie’s torso and his arm. Best not to think too hard about that, Jeremy told himself, turning the beam to the rest of the room.

The faintest rustling noise had Jeremy immediately back on his guard. He turned to see a locker door falling open, revealing a golden suit. His grip on his flashlight tightened as he stared at the golden rabbit costume. It didn’t seem to move much more.

Maybe it was something they used during the day shifts? They were short a Bonnie after all. Still, a golden variation seemed odd as it was on the complete opposite end of the color spectrum from the other two Bonnie models Jeremy had seen.

He was almost tempted to look closer it at, but he knew better than to mess with the animatronics. Especially after his run-in with Toy Bonnie. He did not want to stir up the crazy bear thing again, no thank you.

Shaking his head, Jeremy turned back toward the door. Then he hesitated. The red light on the security camera was blinking at him. Who was in the security office?

Deciding to forget the rest of his early patrol for now, Jeremy made his way back to the office to see a very grumpy Michael shining a flashlight down the hall at him, a small boy also looking at him from a perch on top of the desk.

“Uh… hi?” That’s not Scott, Jeremy’s mind supplied. The realization hit him a moment later as he recognized the boy from Ramona’s newspaper clippings. Evan Afton.

His eyes seemed almost hypnotizing as he glared at Jeremy. “Huh. So you did survive then. Fancy that.”

“I… thanks?” Jeremy finished making his way into the office, weary of the kid on the desk. “Do I know you?”

Evan snorted. “Don’t be stupid. No.”

“Oh. Okay?”

Michael made an impatient noise. “Jeremy, don’t just stand in the doorway like a lost animatronic. Sit down if you’re going to bother me.”

“Right. Sorry.” Jeremy hurriedly went to sit down in the rusty folding chair next to Michael. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t. That chair has just been here every shift I’ve worked,” Michael answered, checking through the cameras. “I can’t believe you’re insane enough to do that though.”

“Do what?”

“Go into Parts and Service. Cassidy doesn’t like it when people come in there,” Evan supplied. “Nobody’s supposed to go in there at night.”

“It’s part of my patrol,” Jeremy said defensively.

“You’re insane for doing a patrol in the first place!” Michael exclaimed. “I thought you’d broken in or something, and I was going to handle it, but Evan said that’s Cassidy’s job. Which, you had to be testing her patience with how long you stuck around in there.”

“I feel like I should be worried.”

“You should be.” Evan assessed him as Michael went back to focusing on the cameras. “I thought the rabbit thing killed you, you know.”

“Should I know what you’re talking about?” Jeremy asked, uncomfortable as the ghost boy studied him. He made Jeremy exceedingly uneasy, and he couldn’t describe why.

A helpful thought decided to interject for a moment, thankfully making him feel a little bit safer. Michael couldn’t have killed his brother. Otherwise, why would they be working together like this?

“Yeah.” Evan tossed a crumpled hat into Jeremy’s lap. “This is yours, right?”

Startled, Jeremy scrambled to catch it, seeing the black stains spotting the rim and front of his hat. Because it was his hat, the one he’d been wearing the last time he transformed. Battered and covered in black oil and whatever that other fluid was, his hat was mostly still intact.

“Where did you get this?” Jeremy asked, smoothing it out to shove it back over his head.

Amused, Evan let out another scoff. “Do you even have a brain? I lost half mine, and I can still connect the dots.”

“His sister is much quicker than he is, that’s for sure,” Michael replied before Jeremy could sputter out a reply.

“You guys are mean.” Jeremy crossed his arms with a pout.

“If you’re going to be here, you can check the hallway and the left vent.” Michael tapped his flashlight, ignoring his words.

“Right, yeah okay.” Jeremy shone the beam of his flashlight down the hallway. “So, what? You’ve just been in the pizzeria the entire time?”

“Yeeep,” Evan answered, leaning across the desk to change the camera and wind the music box. “Most don’t usually live to see the sunrise after they’ve seen me though.”

“Lucky them,” Michael muttered, pulling the camera monitor out of his brother’s reach. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re a big grouch,” Evan retorted. He peered into the left vent. “Eugh, that stupid balloon kid is here. Scram!” His shout made whatever was in the vent squeal and scramble away.

Jeremy blinked. “So the animatronics are just scared of you?”

“Not all of them.” Evan answered with a meaningful look at the camera. “Just the insignificant ones.”

“Which translates to, all of them except the Puppet,” Michael added.

“I don’t scare Cassidy.”

“Cassidy’s not an animatronic, Evan.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Evan sighed. “She hates me.”

“I still doubt that.” Michael clicked to the Parts and Service camera, frowning. “You didn’t touch anything while you were back there, did you?”

“Not a thing. I was hoping to find my keys, but-“ Jeremy yelped as Evan tossed a set of keys at him. His flashlight crashed to the ground as he scrambled to catch them before they hit him. “Oh. Thanks, I guess?”

“You’re welcome.” Evan peered at the camera his brother was looking at. “You’re sure you didn’t touch anything?”

“I didn’t!” Jeremy protested, even as both brothers looked at him suspiciously. “I was tempted to touch the yellow rabbit guy when he fell out of that locker, but I didn’t, I promise.”

“Yellow rabbit?” Evan’s eyebrows scrunched. “I’ll be right back.”

Michael seemed worried too, his own mouth tightening into a thin line.

“What’s the deal with the… yellow rabbit?” Jeremy ventured to ask.

“Don’t worry about it I’m guessing you must not have seen him the night he was in here. Were you attacked by Toy Bonnie or something?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jeremy chuckled nervously, his spine prickling as he realized that they were probably talking about him. “But I can’t say I’ve seen any yellow rabbits before today.”

“Weird. Evan said he and Cassidy scared it off the last time.” Michael frowned deeper. “It crammed itself into a locker?”

“Well, I don’t know about that. But it was in a locker. I thought it was an animatronic though.”

“It is,” Michael supplied stiffly. “But it’s harmless. It shouldn’t be able to move at all.

“…” Jeremy opened his mouth to ask another question, but he didn’t know how to phrase it.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? Evan’s got it handled,” Michael replied sharply. “Just keep checking the vents.”

“Right, got it.” Jeremy retrieved his flashlight. “You seem to have a bad experience with it.”

“I guess you could say that,” Michael answered shortly. “And you really never saw it when Toy Bonnie attacked you?”

“Uh, nope. I remember working on my shift and then waking up naked in your house. That’s… about it…” Jeremy lied awkwardly.

“Hmm…” Michael didn’t seem too sure about that, but he let it go. “So you didn’t see the giant golden bunny in my house either?”

“Nope!” Jeremy scratched his neck nervously. “Do you think it was the same one Evan was worried about?”

“Can’t be,” Michael replied. “The one I saw was a literal rabbit. This one is animatronic. There’s no way those two are the same thing.”

“I suppose not.” Jeremy shrugged, regretting holding up this conversation. “You seem… less grouchy than earlier.”

Michael turned to Jeremy wearily. “I had a rough morning.”

“Yeah, no, I get that. I just… I wanted to apologize for my sister’s behavior this morning.” Jeremy cleared his throat. “And um. I was wondering if, like, there was a way to sort things out?”

“Oh, you mean about borrowing my clothes? Don’t even sweat it, I don’t need them back.” Michael returned his focus to his work.

“I know Ramona can be awful sometimes-“

“I don’t care about that, Jeremy.” Michael finally gave him proper eye contact, shooting a jolt up Jeremy’s spine. Damn, that was hot. “I don’t care that your sister thinks I’m a killer, or that she thinks my father is also a killer. I couldn’t care less, because she’s right.”

“Oh.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably, surprised. “Who did you…?”

“Evan. My baby brother.” Michael turned away again, his voice leaving no room to continue the conversation. Jeremy struggled to find a way to resume it, but he couldn’t.

It was all too comforting when Evan reappeared to confirm that Jeremy hadn’t touched the suit.

“Cassidy can’t figure out why it would have moved,” Evan said, peering at the camera suspiciously. “Music box.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” Michael grumbled, but he wound the music box.

“Hey, so how did you die?” Jeremy asked, even though he knew the answer.

Evan raised a surprised eyebrow at him. “That’s such a brash question to ask a nine-year-old.”

“Yeah, but depending on how long you’ve been dead, technically you aren’t nine anymore.”

“Leave him alone,” Michael growled.

“You don’t need to coddle me, Mikey.” Evan rolled his eyes. “What year is it?”

“1987,” Jeremy supplied, pretending to be less afraid of the way Michael was glaring at him. He checked the hallway with his vent to try to divert attention. “It is November.”

“So I’ve been dead for like four years then. My dad killed me.”

“He did?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Michael, who scowled.

“He’s lying to you. I was the one who killed him.”

“The accident was an accident,” Evan argued. “You’re not a murderer, Mike.”

“I’m close enough to one,” he shot back.

“So wait, why would you say your father killed you?”

“Because he did.” Evan crossed his legs and peered at Jeremy. “I see why the others like you so much.”

“Uh, thanks?”

“You’re so…” Evan snapped his fingers, trying to think of the word. “Honest. Genuine. Something like that.”

“Candid, maybe?” Jeremy offered.

Michael made an irritated noise as Evan brightened. “That’s the word! Yeah, you’re just so candid and blunt about everything. It’s refreshing. No handholding or coddling.”

“I don’t coddle you more than you try to coddle me,” Michael grumbled.

“Anyway,” Evan shot a pointed look at his brother. “What actually happened was Mikey tried to play a prank on me regarding Fredbear. One of the animatronics of the original diner.” When Jeremy looked confused, Evan elaborated. “The first place wasn’t Freddy’s. Our father and Uncle Henry opened the business as Fredbear’s Family Diner. There were two original animatronics. Fredbear and Spring Bonnie.”

Michael made an impatient noise. “I stuck him in Fredbear’s mouth, and the bloody bear bit down on his head. It was my fault.”

“Your fault I was in the hospital, but not your fault I died,” Evan countered. “Michael was all about apologizing, promising to be a better brother if I just woke up. But when Father came to visit, he told me that this attention-seeking was ridiculous, that I should just open my eyes so the bad press would go away.”

Evan’s tone grew quieter, and even Michael paused, his expression softening. “He said that if I didn’t get up, I didn’t deserve to live. And then I was in the suit, with only Fredbear to keep me company.”

That’s the golden bear then, Jeremy thought. “So, your father is your killer?”

“Not just mine. All the missing kids too.” Evan shrugged. “We’d tear him to pieces if we could find him, but there’s only so many hours ghosts are awake.”

“Presumably only during this shift,” Michael added. “I don’t think Phil ever mentioned the haunted animatronics, and Ramona only mentioned rumors about them.”

Evan and Michael both didn’t seem very inclined to speak much after that. Michael did try to stop him when he went for his next patrol, but he didn’t care too much. The patrol was something he’d always done, and just because he was sharing a shift with someone in the office now didn’t mean he was going to stop doing it. It just gave him a longer time limit.

Maybe at some point he could ask about this mysterious ‘Cassidy’ that Evan kept mentioning. But for now, he checked corners and looked in the camera blind spots, knowing that most didn’t ever bother to check. Toy Freddy and Toy Chica didn’t seem too interested in leaving the stage tonight, which Jeremy was grateful for. The Puppet was sealed away, the music box wound tightly to keep the music playing.

And he remembered Evan’s words about Cassidy preferring to have people stay out of Parts and Service. Instead of entering the room, he just whispered at the door, “I’m trusting you to have everything handled in there Cassidy.”

A cold feeling enveloped him, and he shuddered as he walked away. It was weird to miss Mangle on a shift, but he supposed they wouldn’t come around while Evan was guarding the office. He checked the back door quickly to ensure it was locked and was glad to find that Michael had indeed locked it behind him.

“I wish I could complain about the job you’re doing here, but it seems to be fantastic,” Jeremy said with a sigh as he plopped back into his chair.

Michael raised an eyebrow at that, the constant frown relenting slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Got the door locked and everything. Better than Fritz does, anyway.”

“Door was already locked when I got here,” Michael said. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

Huh. Interesting. Jeremy was curious about Michael’s sense of humor though, so he poked a little more. “Of course, I can’t really give you all the credit, since it seems that Evan and Cassidy are the ones who are actually in charge around here. They just tolerate you.”

Evan snorted at that, covering his mouth as Michael’s expression returned to a scowl. “I don’t know that you can say you’ve been doing much either, Jeremy.”

“I’m not claiming to. But the animatronics like me, according to Evan, so I have a one-up on you.”

Michael shook his head, but he didn’t rise to the bait.

The rest of the night passed in somewhat stiff silence.

“See you tomorrow night, I guess. Fitzgerald.” Michael rose, offering a hand for Jeremy to shake.

“Same to you, dude.” Jeremy shook his hand cheerily, trying not to visibly wince as Michael crushed his hand in the shake. “Until next time, Afton-“

As soon as he started to say the last word, Michael shoved him back against the wall, covering his mouth. A thrill ran through Jeremy as pain shot up his back. He couldn’t help a startled whimper as Michael glared at him with icy blue eyes.

“Never call me that. Understand? Never.”

“I… I understand! Yep! Never going to call you that ever again, never ever!” Jeremy chirped back, knowing his enthusiasm was way more than the situation required.

“It’s Schmidt. Michael Schmidt.”

“Then… I’ll see you tonight, Schmidt.”

Michael rolled his eyes, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket to start chewing it before he walked out of the security office. Evan had disappeared somewhere around 5, so Jeremy remained to tidy up a tiny bit before walking out to his car.

Michael was still on the sidewalk, presumably going to walk home, and Jeremy did not accept that he was just going to be walking in the chilly air in only his work uniform. He drove alongside Michael, rolling down his window. “Need a ride home?”

“No.” Michael kept walking, not even glancing at the car. “I’m used to walking everywhere.”

“You could catch a cold!” Jeremy protested.

“Good thing I’m not the only one on shift then,” he shot back, blowing a bubble with his gum. “Go home, Fitzgerald.”

“Alright fine. But if you get sick, I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’”

“I’m so terrified of the threat,” Michael replied sarcastically. “Goodbye.”

Rude, Jeremy thought with mild annoyance. But this was progress from last time! Last time, Michael hadn’t had much to say except “fuck off,” so at least Jeremy got through it this time without that. And he’d also gotten information that Ramona hadn’t had, which meant she was wrong about Michael Afton.

“So ghosts are real?” Ramona pressed as Jeremy hung up the phone after receiving a call from his friend Sebastian.

He was so lucky Seb was willing to give him a discount, so lucky he was willing to do repairs without questioning things. Jeremy had already gotten rid of the couch and burned his old sheets. The last step to making the whole rabbit nightmare a forgotten memory was the torn flooring.

“Yeah. And Evan has a much better sense of humor than his brother.” Jeremy shot his sister a skeptical look. “You’re not surprised by anything else I said?”

“Like what? The kid forgiving his older brother? You said he was like nine?”

Jeremy didn’t know how to respond to that. She wasn’t wrong. But it didn’t feel like she was completely right either. “But-“

“Jer, you’re being dumb about all this. You need to think with your brain at least some of the time.”

“I am using my brain! I was asking all the questions I needed answers to.”

“Yeah? Then why are you still so blatantly defending Michael Afton?”

Because if he’s a monster, then so am I, Jeremy thought to himself, but he didn’t say it out loud. “Forget it.”

“Jeremy-“

“No, it’s not worth arguing about. But Evan gave me back my keys.” Jeremy stood up moodily. “It was nice talking with you, Ramona, but I gotta get some sleep before tonight’s shift.”

“Jer, what’s bothering you? You know you can tell me about it, right?” Ramona pressed.

“I know. I just don’t feel like getting into it right now. That’s all. Have a good day, Mona.”

“You too, Jer.” Ramona hesitated for another moment. “I’m here for you, if you need anything.”

“I know.”

Ramona shot him a worried look as she got through the door, careful to avoid catching her pants on the splintered wood that Sebastian was going to replace.

After his sister left, Jeremy stripped, unsure of what triggered him to turn into the rabbit. He didn’t want to ruin clothes that didn’t belong to him though, so he wasn’t taking chances as he went to rest properly for the first time in ages.

Michael let himself back into his house with a heavy sigh. That shift had been long. He undid his tie, ignoring the impatient meowing at his feet while he changed out of his work clothes. “Give me some time, Logan.”

Logan meowed again, pawing at his empty bowl.

“One second, Logan.” Michael pulled a new shirt over his head before giving the cat a scratch behind his ear. “I’ll get that bowl filled in no time.”

After feeding Logan, Michael was tempted to go out and look for the bunny again. Surely it couldn’t have gone far, right? Even if it had been gone for a day, maybe it was just hungry and hunting. Maybe it had tried to return while Michael was gone and couldn’t get back in. Maybe-

You’re overthinking this. God, you are such a freak Michael. Michael shook his head, walking toward the place where he’d last seen the rabbit. Maybe the dumpster was its home?

His hopefulness diminished as he approached the dumpster. He couldn’t see any sign of it anyway. Shoulders slumping, he prepared to walk back, so he could let Logan have his own walk.

A soft thumb behind him made him hesitate though. Michael turned, excitement growing as he saw the giant shape of the golden rabbit who’d appeared very suddenly. “There you are!” Michael exclaimed, beaming as he reached out for the bunny.

His new friend nuzzled into his hand immediately, rubbing its fluffy face against his hand. “I missed you buddy,” Michael whispered into the overwhelmingly soft fur.

A soft rumble in the bunny’s throat soothed him, making all the irritation and torment from the last day completely vanishing. “You can’t just disappear on me, you know,” Michael said, trying for a scolding tone.

The bunny thumped his back foot as a reply.

“What? Are you going to say you didn’t miss me? Because I think you’d be lying.”

The bunny nosed at his neck. A soft, wet feeling made Michael’s neck prickle in the cold.

“Is that a way of saying you did miss me?” Michael asked, scratching up behind the rabbit’s ear.

He stumbled a bit as the rabbit rocked forward, knocking him off-balance a little bit. The rabbit kept nuzzling him until he was completely knocked to the ground. Startled, he didn’t even attempt to get up before he was completely enveloped in soft, warm, golden fur.

“Hey, hang on a sec-“ Michael tried to protest before the bunny squished its head down over his, keeping him even more safely enveloped in warmth. “I need to let Logan out for a bit! You’re going to make it so a poor little kitty can’t stretch his legs, is that what you want?”

A grumbling noise resonated in the back of the bunny’s throat, but it let Michael get to his feet. “Thank you.”

Michael walked back, knowing that the bunny was going to follow him back this time. He didn’t even need to stress about it. Michael grabbed his mail from the box on his way back into the house, tossing the pile onto his table before shaking the harness to get Logan to come running.

“Time for your walk, you crazy cat,” Michael said, pretending to ignore the rabbit who’d opted to lurk on the front lawn instead of coming in this time. Maybe it likes to be free to roam, he thought to himself.

Logan was happy enough to take his walk, purring as they returned. Shortly after Michael walked through the door and started undoing Logan’s harness, the rabbit wriggled into the house, looming behind Michael.

After he’d shut the door, Michael let out a big yawn, rubbing his eyes briefly. Gotta check the mail first, he scolded himself as he yawned again.

Glancing at the top of the stack, Michael felt himself pale. It was another letter from his father, this time marked as urgent. He hadn’t even opened the last one, and now he was getting another? Michael was just grateful his father didn’t know his phone number, but then actual horror struck him. He could just come to my house.

Michael twitched, grabbing the letter so tightly the edges crinkled. With a solid grip, he ripped the envelope and the contents in half. The rabbit flinched, clearly not expecting such a violent action. Logan was unaffected, as usual.

He tossed the torn remains into his trash bin and stalked to his bedroom, trying so hard not to start trembling or crying. The bunny nudged the door open and sniffed at the edge of his bed. Michael patted the side of his bed, giving it permission to jump up. The bunny took the permission easily, pressing comforting warmth into Michael’s back as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

“Why can’t he just leave me alone?” Michael sobbed quietly. “It’s bad enough knowing that I did something monstrous, but he does it on purpose. I bet he’s out there doing it to some other poor kids now, and I’m just not strong enough to stand up to him.”

The bunny rumbled out a growl at the blame Michael placed on himself, but it still soothed his pain with soft fur. He rolled over and buried his face properly into the fur, his fingers tangling into the strands. So soft, he thought to himself, tears dampening the fur of the bunny’s chest.

Not that it seemed to mind, pulling Michael closer as he started drifting off to sleep. “I just don’t get it…” Michael trailed off, finally relaxing enough to let go of consciousness.

Jeremy woke up with his arms wrapped around a sleeping Michael. Why am I not surprised? he thought to himself, carefully untangling himself from his sleeping coworker. He’d kill me if he knew I was here.

Unease sank into Jeremy as he realized he was yet again left to try to sneak out without clothing. But at least he was in Michael’s room this time, and he could just grab clothes without getting caught.

His foot hit something soft and warm, and a disgruntled meow made Jeremy realize the cat was also here. Oh shit. Directing a glare at the cat, Jeremy climbed out of the bed without causing the cat or Michael to wake up completely. The black cat nestled back into his paws, purring loudly as Jeremy snuck a new pair of clothing out of Michael’s drawer.

He left quickly, pushing open a window and crawling out of it, ignoring the pain that shot through his feet as he landed on rocks. Jeremy glanced around before hurrying toward his house, memorizing the address as he left the place.

He felt bad for ditching, but he also knew he could not just stay after all that. Not after how upset Michael had seemed the first time. Until he could control when he turned into a rabbit and maybe stay as a rabbit when around Michael, then he wasn’t taking any chances.

Back home, Jeremy slipped socks onto his feet and glanced at the time. He had plenty of time to spare before work, but he still couldn’t help but feel a bit antsy. I’m not supposed to know where he lives, Jeremy thought glumly.

The phone ringing pulled Jeremy away from spiraling in his obsession. Maybe Ramona was right about all that stuff anyway. “Hello? Jeremy Fitzgerald here.”

“Jeremy! What a pleasant surprise to hear your voice. No offense, but we all thought you were dead!”

“Yeah, that’s what Michael told me,” Jeremy chuckled nervously, wondering why Lloyd was calling him.

“Hey, you’re not too opposed to just sharing that shift with him, right? I mean, I know you said you absolutely did not want to have to deal with kids, and I completely understand. Michael had the same qualms about the shift, but this is the only shift where no one is stuck hanging around children. But you’re all good with that? You’re fine sharing the workload? It's probably better anyway, having two people check on the place during those hours. Keeps the place safer- I mean, more secure!” Lloyd blabbed on, talking so fast Jeremy could barely keep up with what he was saying.

“I’m okay with it. Is he?” Jeremy leaned back against the wall, a finger hooked absently into the phone cord. An excuse to spend more time with Michael? No way was he turning that down.

“Oh! Yeah, uh, he actually seemed more than happy to have someone else there. I guess he doesn’t have the same familiarity you have with the job yet. He’s probably a bit jittery about the atmosphere. You know, he’s never had a nighttime security job before, actually.”

“Lloyd, is that all you needed from me, or is there something else?”

“Oh, that’s it. Uh, except one thing. We found a bunch of the torn remains of your uniform. Did you want a new one? I’m guessing that you’ve been using the spare, but you should really have more than one.”

“By that logic, I should have at least three,” Jeremy pointed out. “In case one is misplaced or ruined, or another incident like the other night happens.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

“Toy Bonnie came after me. I don’t really remember what happened after that,” Jeremy replied swiftly. “I don’t need to fill out an incident report or anything do I? I mean, as far as I’m aware, no one got hurt.”

“Nobody was hurt in the incident. We didn’t actually know that until just now actually.” Lloyd laughed nervously. “No, we don’t need anything from you, don’t worry! It just would’ve helped us if you’d remembered something about Toy Bonnie attacking, or maybe Fritz coming in-“

“I don’t know anything about that, sorry.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “But I can be in in a couple minutes if you have extra uniforms ready.”

“Oh! Yeah, I can totally do that. Yeah, if you come in before 6, I can totally get you set up with some new uniforms.”

“Great, I’ll see you at 5 then.”

“Fantastic!”

Jeremy hung up the phone feeling more awkward than ever before. At least he’d have a uniform again.

When he saw Michael at the next shift, he set out by tipping his hat at the other man. No response. Evan seemed a bit distracted today as well, somewhat of a frown crossing his face.

Jeremy sat down awkwardly in his chair, remembering Lloyd’s words from earlier. If he had to guess, maybe Michael had been relieved to have an excuse to make sure Jeremy wasn’t in any danger after all the personal risks he took at work.

“I’m going to do a patrol,” he announced abruptly, picking up his flashlight.

“Don’t die,” Evan said, peering over Michael’s shoulder.

“Right…” Jeremy looked at Michael hopefully, but the other man gave him no indication that he was going to say anything in reply.

The night was somewhat quiet. It was weird having the toy animatronics remaining onstage every night, and Jeremy almost wished they’d move so he could at least know that Toy Bonnie hadn’t been a fluke. Even Mangle hadn’t sought him out since he’d turned, presumably too afraid of him now to approach.

It made sense, considering how Percy was taking the exact same approach with him, but it still stung to know that his dog and his favorite animatronic no longer seemed to see him as a safe person. Even Evan didn’t trust him in that form, if Jeremy’s memory served correctly.

Nobody saw him as more than a monster aside from Michael. Was that why he was so magnetized to the other man? Physical attributes aside, Michael seemed well-guarded, not trusting other people. But he seemed to have a secret affection for animals. Even with the amount he swore at his cat, he seemed to love the cat enough to care for it when he was not in the mood to care for the poor thing.

Sighing, Jeremy started to head back toward the cold atmosphere of the main office. He stopped upon hearing what sounded like sobbing coming from Parts and Service.

“Hey, everything okay in there?” Jeremy asked, hoping for a gentle tone.

“No!” The door flew open, nearly hitting Jeremy in the face, and he couldn’t help but flinch at the small girl glowering at him with thick black tear streaks running down her face. “He’s come back, and I can’t stop him!”

“Who came back?” Jeremy asked, crouching down to her level. “Sorry for asking, but I seem to be a bit out of the loop.”

“You take things more seriously than most,” she huffed. Then she blinked at him. “Wait, you’re that security guard guy. We all thought you died!”

“That seems to be the common consensus,” Jeremy sighed. “But who came back? Clearly he’s no one good if you are unhappy about it.”

“No. He killed me, and he’s gonna kill more kids.”

“Oh.” A prickle of fear made Jeremy tremble a bit at that. “When did he come back?”

“Not too long ago. We didn’t notice the changes in his suit, but-“ she glanced at the darkened area for a moment. “Here, I’ll just show you.”

Cold fingers wrapped around Jeremy’s wrist, and he was startled to discover that apparently ghosts could in fact touch people.

“So, originally, he was in that locker there, right?” the girl gestured at the locker Jeremy had originally spotted the animatronic at.

“Yeah…”

“Well, he’s not anymore. Now he’s on the floor over here,” Cassidy pointed directly at where the golden bunny suit was slumped next to the old Freddy model.

“Oh. And this suit’s not possessed right? Nobody should be moving it?”

“No one should be moving it. Employees can get fired for touching it, much less moving it. And I haven’t seen it move on its own.”

“Ghosts can only do things at this time of night…” Jeremy trailed off thoughtfully. “You think it’s the same guy who killed you?”

“I know it is. I had to ask a bunch of times to get anywhere with Evan. That kid is so tight-lipped, I swear.” The girl shook her head. “But apparently, this suit here can only be activated by a key. One person had that key.”

“Your killer.”

“William Afton,” she confirmed. “At least, that’s what Evan says, but he’s been wrong about so much lately, that I’m just worried he’s wrong about that too.”

“Did you try asking Michael?”

“Evan doesn’t think I should talk to the security guards.” The girl shrugged. “He thinks I’ll just kill you guys. But I’m not that murderous. I still have a brain, unlike some people.”

“So you must be Cassidy?”

“Yep.” Cassidy sighed. “I mean, I don’t want to complain because it makes sense that Evan wants to spend time with his brother, but I miss being able to roam the pizzeria freely. Ever since Toy Bonnie got dinged, I’ve been checking in here to make sure Spring Bonnie hasn’t been used. I think we scared him off pretty well though.”

“Spring Bonnie…?”

“The yellow rabbit suit,” Cassidy pointed, rolling her eyes. “Oh! One more thing. I know you’re like, nocturnal or whatever like we are. But you can actually wake up during the day. Could you like, keep an eye out for someone wearing the suit?”

“I mean, I suppose. Did Evan bring that up to Michael?”

“I doubt it. He hates the idea of getting you guys involved.” Cassidy wrinkled her nose. “Something about trying not to cause more deaths than necessary, but he’s not going to kill an adult out in the open like that. I think it’s fine.”

“Huh. Okay. I mean, I can try…”

“Whatever works.” Cassidy seemed satisfied, finally noticing the red light on in the camera. “Oh! Say cheese!”

“That’s a live feed, Cassidy. It’s not a picture camera.”

“You’re no fun.” Cassidy stuck her tongue out at him. “Bye bye for now. I’ll expect results later.”

“I hope I’ll have results for you.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cassidy said cheerfully before disappearing.

Resigning himself to the blinking light of the security camera, Jeremy went back to the office. If he hadn’t been sure before, Evan’s scowl told him plenty about what he needed to know.

“What were you thinking?” Evan hissed, his eyes so dark there was absolutely no color aside from the darkest of dark pits.

“Uhh…”

“She could’ve killed you!”

“She dragged me in there!” Jeremy said in protest.

“Did she now? Maybe she’s just lonely because she lost her best friend.” Michael shot a pointed look at his brother.

“Cassidy can’t stand me,” Evan scoffed, but he let up on Jeremy a little bit. “What did she want?”

“Help with her little investigation into Spring Bonnie.” Jeremy dropped into his chair and peered at the camera monitor in Michael’s hands. “Still no animatronic movement, huh? Almost like they were told to stay put.”

He raised an eyebrow at Evan. The kid rolled his eyes, the frown not relenting. “Toys aren’t our thing. We watch over the others.”

“So the toys not moving is also suspicious behavior?” Jeremy asked. “Hey, not to be dumb or anything, but how much did your dad work with the animatronics?”

“He helped create them, so a pretty significant amount,” Michael answered. “Evan, I just think you should make up with her.”

“There’s nothing to make up! She doesn’t want anything to do with me, and that’s fine. I’ll stay out of her space, and she can take care of the others!”

“She said you told her to stay in Parts and Service,” Jeremy said.

“You’re going to believe her over me? Mikey, you can’t believe this, surely!”

“I mean, I don’t know what to believe. I’ve never spoken to Cassidy before, and if its your word or Jeremy’s, then I’ll take your word for it. But I do still think you should try to resolve this conflict you have with her-“

“Think what you want then! I don’t care!” Evan’s eyes flashed before he abruptly vanished.

Jeremy sat in stunned silence as Michael just continued checking things. “Well that was…”

“He’s just pouting. We’ve had this argument before, don’t worry.” Michael didn’t glance over at Jeremy as he talked. “So, Cassidy let you off with a warning or something I’m guessing?”

“I already said she dragged me in. She wants me to go in during the day and look out for a guy in a rabbit costume.”

“That could only be one person, you know,” Michael said grimly, sitting back to start giving Jeremy his attention. “My father only made one key for that suit.”

“Cassidy said that. She also seems a bit weary of taking information from Evan since he seems a little…”

“Mixed up?” Michael shrugged. “Yeah, don’t put too much stock in what he says. I don’t think he fully knows where he’s at.”

“That’s fair, I guess…” Jeremy wasn’t fully appreciative of that response. “So, you still think your dad killed those kids?”

“Without a doubt. He was always a bit more bitter when he had to deal with them, and if the other kids say it was the golden bunny man, then who am I to say they’re wrong? It makes sense.” Michael shook his head. “I still don’t understand what kind of monster could willingly decide that kids couldn’t get to live their lives though.”

“A kind that’s actually a monster as opposed to someone who thinks of himself as one?” Jeremy offered.

Michael turned his gaze on Jeremy lazily. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Is it working?”

“Not more than Evan’s assurances. Listen, I made my peace with what I did a long time ago.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.” Jeremy laid a reassuring hand on Michael’s arm. “You didn’t mean it. There’s no way you and your dad are even remotely in the same league-“

“Yeah, but a monster is a monster, aren’t they? Killers are monsters, Jeremy. Simple as that.” Michael slipped his hand away and went back to the cameras. “It’s not like it’s possible to always spot a monster on the surface anyway. Maybe you’re just telling yourself I can’t be a monster because I don’t look like one.”

Jeremy stiffened at that. You don’t have to look like a monster to be a monster. Did that mean the opposite was true too? He wanted desperately to know the answer.

Michael tried to give him a smile. “Look, it’s no big deal, really. If you aren’t actively saying I’m following in my father’s footsteps, then I think things are okay, you know? Like, I may not really like you, but I don’t think you’re a complete twat.”

“Uh, thanks?” Jeremy didn’t know how to respond to that, instead shining his light into the vent to avoid the heat that rose to his face at what he was guessing was meant to be a compliment.

“Anytime.” Michael chuckled softly. “Looks like he’s going for a full night sulk tonight. Guess it’s just us now.”

“Think you’ll be able to handle the office once I go on my next patrol?” Jeremy asked teasingly.

Michael snorted. “With the animatronics the way they are? I’ll be more than fine.”

“Good to know.”

A few nights passed like this, Michael offering minimal conversation during the shift, Jeremy taking his time to do patrols and update Cassidy on what he saw during the days.

It wasn’t much more than he had during the night, but Cassidy seemed to appreciate it nonetheless. And if he showed up to work tired, then that was fine too. Michael would shake his head, and Evan was still pouting about his argument with Cassidy, so he didn’t care.

Still, he felt a little bit bad whenever he realized he’d nodded off, insisting that Michael wake him. And evidently, that was not happening every time it happened. It hadn’t hurt anything so far though, so Jeremy was willing to let it slide.

It had taken him ages, quietly arguing with Evan while Jeremy slumped in his chair, to convince his brother to try and work things out with Cassidy. Evan had been furious that Cassidy was putting Jeremy in harm’s way, but Michael thought he probably knew the risks of what he was getting into.

Why should Cassidy get the blame anyway? She wanted help, not to doom another man to die. And Evan had given plenty of warning, so Jeremy could’ve backed out whenever he wanted to, so it was fine. There was simply no need to keep blaming Cassidy.

Michael spared a glance away from his constant checking to look at the uncomfortable way Jeremy had passed out in his chair, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, hat knocked askew. On impulse, he reached over and fixed Jeremy’s hat, before deciding to move him to the floor.

Jeremy’s head knocked into Michael’s chest, and he felt sure that the man would wake. Jeremy hardly stirred, so Michael continued to lay him down, removing Jeremy’s jacket to tuck it beneath his head like a pillow. There, Michael thought to himself, somewhat satisfied before he went back to flick through the cameras absently.

Unfortunately for Mike, however, he’d missed the sound of an animatronic crawling into the vent, too focused on making sure he didn’t wake up Jeremy to pay much attention to the world around him.

The loud static did eventually catch Michael’s attention, and he set the monitor down, forgetting to wind the music box as he glanced at the phone. It was in its cradle, and belatedly Michael realized that noise meant animatronic, and he turned to check the vent just as Mangle swung down to attack.

Michael yowled in pain as the impact knocked him from his chair and plastic teeth tore through his face. The edge of the desk caught the other side of his face, making his vision blurry as he faintly caught the sound of tearing fabric and an angry growl.

Something warm ran down his face as the animatronic screeched, hiding away from the giant shadow looming over Michael. Struggling to push himself upright, he found himself surrounded by golden fur. Oh. Michael blinked blood out of his eye, struggling to process the scene around him, only slightly frightened now that he knew his rabbit friend had somehow appeared to aid him. I hope it doesn’t step on my coworker. That’d be awkward to explain.

“Mikey!” Evan’s voice echoed in the quiet environment. “Michael?”

The bunny was growling, a low rumble vibrating through its body. Cool hands cupped both sides of Michael’s face as Evan’s face came into view.

“Oh my god,” Evan breathed, smudging the blood stream ever so slightly. “Where did Jeremy go? I thought you knew what you were doing!”

“Glad you’ve got your priorities in order,” Michael answered slowly, still struggling to focus on his brother’s face. “Your hands are cold.”

“Of course they are.” Evan huffed in exasperation. “Wait, you’re totally in shock. Mikey…”

“The music box…” Michael trailed off as he registered that a completely quiet room was not a good thing.

Evan’s eye widened. “Oh no.”

The sound of aggressive music echoed in the halls as the Puppet made its approach. Not that it was much of a problem, seeing as Michael’s bunny pinned the animatronic to the ground before it could do much.

“Wait, don’t do that,” Evan said hurriedly. “Uh, I need to-“

“Yeah, no, go ahead.” Michael’s eyelids fluttered shut as Evan went away to shout at the bunny who was currently having a very intense stare down with the Puppet.

Jeremy hadn’t known he’d fallen asleep on shift that night. Waking up tangled in bindings made of shimmery thread had not been the most reassuring thing. More startling than that, however, was the pooling blood around Michael’s head as Evan argued with an unfamiliar girl.

Cautiously he untangled himself and dug into the duffel bag he started to bring to every shift, grateful for his planning as the remains of his uniform remained littered across the floor. The bickering children didn’t notice as he slipped his uniform on quickly before pressing his jacket (which for some reason was folded on the floor) to the wound on Michael’s head. Jeremy managed to pull the man close so he could hold the fabric to the wound while still being able to dial for the hospital.

Jeremy didn’t know how Michael had been injured, but based on the teeth marks, he had a sinking feeling Mangle had done something to the poor man. He did look a bit too similar to his father for Jeremy’s liking. That had to be the real reason Michael was so vigilant and why Evan was so paranoid about him missing things in the cameras.

The children stopped arguing to look at him when he was explaining things to the emergency operator, seeming to realize that maybe there were more urgent things to deal with than whatever they’d been arguing about. Jeremy clutched the plastic tightly in one hand as he clutched to Michael’s injury with the other.

Evan was the first to approach Jeremy, looking more disheveled than Jeremy even knew ghosts could be. “You’re the rabbit thing.”

Jeremy nodded awkwardly. He knew they’d discovered him the minute he’d woken up and was tangled in that same shimmery stuff that he’d seen under his skin before he transformed the first time.

“Our conversation isn’t over, Evan,” the girl said, impatiently. “Sure, Mike takes priority, but the fact that you guys tried to lock me away is absolutely insane.”

“How about we skip the interrogation until we know that Michael’s okay,” Jeremy said weakly.

“I guess that’s a good way to put things.” The girl crouched at Michael’s side, brushing bloodied hair out of his face. “Although you and me need a talk at some point, Mr. Fitzgerald.”

“I’m long overdue for talks with a bunch of people now,” Jeremy muttered.

Please be okay.

[ultralightpoe]

Venomous- Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gahhhhhh, enjoy. Part 2 soon

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 7566

Requests: OPEN! [This work is a request]

[Thank you for the gif @another-nerdy-blog ]

Enjoy!

Inland Taipan 

Scientific Name: Oxyuranus microlepidotus

- 

“Despair is the price one pays when they set an impossible aim.” Dreykov murmurs, his voice sending a chill down your spy as he circles you slowly. His footsteps fall into a pattern your brain can’t help but follow, a constant thud like a war drum. 

And though he claimed to be checking you for your next mission you couldn’t help but feel as though he was circling you like a predator would it’s prey. 

‘He needed you’, you tried to remind yourself, doing your best to ease yourself and hide the fear from him. Because the truth was he didn’t need you. You might be his top assassin in this moment but you were easily replaceable. 

Natasha herself had warned you before she escaped. 

“We are nothing but weapons here.” She had whispered to you one night, huddled together to keep warmth on the mission, arms wound tightly around each other. Your sister in arms, your sister in life since you didn’t know your own family. 

You had known she wanted out, you wanted the same thing, and though you weren’t mad she had made it out you were upset that she had done it without you. 

Countless times dreaming of a life beyond all of this. 

Lies. 

“Do you understand what this means, pretty girl?” Dreykov asks, pulling your attention away from your memories back to where he know stood behind you, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror while you shake your head. 

You were nervous he had caught you, that he knew you had hacked into his system three days ago to find your birth name, and so when you had been ordered down you were sure he was going to kill you. 

But instead he had you prep for an upcoming mission. 

“It means not to set yourself up for failure. You know your skill, and you know your limitations. You are my top weapon.” He explains, not breaking eye contact as you bite back your tongue to make a snide comment. “The mission I am about to send you on is long and I trust no one but you.”

“Thank you.” You mutter, nodding your head. 

“I’d like to introduce you to the key of this mission, a vital part.” The door opens a couple feet away, and a strong figure was soon led into the room, the second you spot him your entire body tightens in discomfort. 

Right, Natalia Romanov was gone and you had taken her place. Which meant you would now do duo missions with the Winter Soldier himself. 

And you knew the moment your eyes traced over his body that he would ruin everything. By the way his eyes traced over your own before his fists tightened you knew he was thinking the same about you. 

- 

Dr. Aquinos always had a noticeable look of pity that, no matter how many times you saw it, always set your stomach twisting in a mix of anger and embarrassment. But you were sure if you were to bring this up she would simply tell you that you were over reading, trying to find an excuse not to trust her. 

‘By the sounds of it you weren’t always this distrusting, why don’t we try to go back and think about when that began to change’. Blah blah blah. 

The clock on the wall was the only sound that could be heard in the room, with you sitting completely still in an effort to wait out this hour until you could leave, and her across from you sitting patiently with her classic notepad and pen. She often twirled it between her fingers when she was getting impatient, and you tried not to smirk at the sight of her doing it now. 

“I thought we had moved past this waiting game routine.”

“I thought you were over that sweater,” You huff, shrugging your shoulder a bit and giving her an empty glare, only to find that she narrows her eyes. Like a lion reading the challenge. 

“You look sick.” There it is again, that damn pity that made you want to scratch out her eyes, and maybe your own. You always hated her pity, or maybe you hated the ‘serene’ paintings around the room or the happy family photo that proudly hung from the wall next to the office door. The same photo that always dug a hole in your chest whenever you spotted it. 

It was a reminder and a slap in the face at the same time. Dr. Aquinos kids will never know that pain or suffering which isn’t their fault and yet you couldn’t stop the resentment that filled you whenever you saw that damn photo. The smile that reminded you of so many… so many children that deserved better. 

You hated this office, and yet you found yourself here once a damn week. 

“I believe the term you are looking for is sickening.” You flash her a wide smile, crossing your legs to seem more confident in this moment, trying not to seem like that movement alone caused you pain. 

“I mean sick.” She states, her tone still holding that fucking pity. “Was it a long night for you?”

Yes. It had been an extremely long night for you. The first half of the night had been spent on top of a roof in the freezing cold for surveillance, only the target had shown up 40 minutes later than he normally did which meant you had an extra 40 minutes of the winter air making you shiver and tightening your bones. Which made the hip injury you tried to avoid all the worse, hard to move around. 

By the time you managed to limp your way home, scarfing down  the small rations of food into your mouth before shoving a pain pill down and diving into the cot you kept in the closet for safety. 

You had gotten maybe an hour worth of sleep before the terrors dragged you awake in a pool of your own sweat, panic clinging to your every move. 

Your hip still hurt, the throbbing beginning to work it’s way into your spine, but you had a performance to play here. “Not really, I slept through the night and woke up in my soft warm bed.”

“You’re not still sleeping on the military cot in the closet then?”

“No,” You lie, enjoying the way it slips past your lips without a notch. “I’ve got a queen size bed now.”

Yet another lie, your apartment held a duffel bag of your mission gear and suit. One dresser of normal clothes, the cot in the closet. That was all you needed. 

And it’s pathetic, the way you once dreamed of this for so long just to be living this miserable existence. 

“It’s common to miss it, you know, there is no shame in that. It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” She mumbles softly, and you hate the way she can read you that easily. 

It was true, you missed the red room. You missed your sisters and you missed the routine. You never needed to be someone in the rooms, out here in the world? A new story completely. 

You were nothing, no one. 

All you had was a name and even that didn’t seem like it belonged to you. 

“Why don’t we keep expanding on your years in the rooms….” She switches the conversation, knowing you both had hit a dead end, choosing a new route. “You told me a little about it before and I noticed that most widows have specialty names built off of that name itself. But you didn’t, can you explain why you were named….the ‘viper’ was it?”

“Yes.” Ironically the way you bite this out makes the ending sound like your very own hiss, all you needed now was a rattle and black eyes. 

“Can you explain to me how you got that name?”

“Because of…. Him.” Even referencing him left a sore spot in your chest, sweat beading the back of your neck. 

“Ah, Bucky Barnes.” She hums, and you hated that people called him that. You hated that he got his name and his recovery. He was the Soldat, he would never change and of course people were falling for his trap. 

You had long ago. 

“The SOLDAT gave me the name on our mission.” You sneer, “What time is it?”

The clock had stuck, you were sure of it. And when she reached to check the time on her watch you caught sight of her notes with the words HEALTH RISK circled and underlined, her family photo once again making you a bit nauseous as she hums out and nods to the door to let you know the time was up. 

“I look forward to our next session.”

“I don’t.” It was the truth, and you enjoyed the fact that you could speak the truth with her even if she got a little too close. “But I wish you a good week, I hope your family is okay.”

The smile that spreads across her face as you leave makes you angry, but not at her, at yourself. 

She was right, you were a health risk. To yourself and to others, but that wouldn’t matter soon, the second you completed your final task you wouldn’t have to worry anymore. 

The list of names you had made for yourself, your last mission on this miserable life would be to take out the people that hurt you. 23 names total, and at the very end of the list in the neatest handwriting you could muster was ‘The Soldat’. 

You would leave this earth, but he would leave it first. 

- 

Alternative name/s:

Fierce Snake, Small-scaled Snake, Lignum Snake 

-

It was easy to ignore the widow,  she liked to keep to herself in the corner of the small safe house they were keeping in on the first part of the mission. 

A list of names, 118 total, that Hydra and the Red Room needed gone as soon as possible. Risks that needed to be handled. And the Soldat was used to doing missions on his own but they paired him with the Widow to help. 

And at first he was sure she would be trouble, but he was proven to be wrong since the Widow seemed just as sure as him that she didn’t want to be near him. 

Right now she sat in the corner, crisscrossing, taking time to clean all her knives with the polishing kit that most of the Hydra safe houses had to keep their gear clean. Her hands worked seamlessly, making sure that the knife shown under the light, and he couldn’t seem to look at anything else but her. 

Maybe the Soldat was annoyed that she had used the polishing kit before he could. Maybe he just liked seeing that someone else had the same routine he did on these missions. Or maybe he was interested in the vials sitting beside her. 

As if she could read his thoughts she reached for one, keeping the knives before her on the ground as she twisted the cap to the vial and moved to pour the liquid over each weapon before taking what was left and he was confused by the fact that she was putting on her suit.

He looked closer, realizing that there were vials hidden within her sleeve. He wanted to know what they were for until she looked up to give him a knowing smile, teeth flashing in a way that pissed him off. 

He turned away again, so she can go back to doing her hair and looking at her reflection. 

But it all made sense the night of the first hunt. She had started at the other end of the house and planned to make their way through to find their target, and by the time he did find her she already had the target within her clutch. 

His arm twisted within her legs to keep him in place with one hand pushing his head so his neck was exposed while her other wrist snaps to reveal two puncture points at the knuckles of her suit made to look like fangs. Only a flash of those before they reach his neck. 

She removes herself immediately and he rushes to get the target, worried that he would fight back and wondering what would make the widow so stupid to let him go before he realizes that the Target wasn’t moving at all. Instead he seems paralyzed as he died slowly. 

When he whirls back to the Widow she is once again facing a mirror, fixing her hair and lipstick before turning to him with a smile that twisted his chest. “Are there any more loose ends?” 

The russian falls off his tongue with ease and she narrows her eyes at him to tilt her head. 

“Tous les détails sont pris en charge,” [All the loose ends are taken care of.] She shrugs, twirling her hair before spinning on her toes and swaying her hips to walk away. His brain racks for a moment, never great at French which she had realized on the first day, and followed the brat down the hall. 

He risks a look down the hall where Marvin Montys child slept and spots the blood splatter on the wall, before following her. 

At least the widow could do her job. 

- 

“You’re making a lot of progress, Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums out, nodding her head as she watches him from her regular spot. She hasn’t scribbled on her notepad in the past 30 minutes of their hour-long session, and he hopes that’s a good sign. “But I’d like to dive a bit deeper for a moment, cut to the harsh point if you don’t mind.”

“Not like I have a choice here Doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny,” She smirks for a second before sitting up a bit. “There’s a patch of memories that you said helped you break from the Soldier with Steve. Made it easier, your own words.” 

“There was. About a month before I was sent out to get Steve….. I had just gotten back from another mission.”

“The one with the ‘Viper’ is that correct?”

He has to clear his throat in attempt to fight off the tightness, feeling his chest constrict in pain as he nods. 

“It was a long mission. I hadn’t been away from the chair for that long before and she managed to break through every crack formed. Or at least we thought she did.”

“Have you tried to find her? Since you have come back?” 

“I started trying to find her the second Steve found me.” He explains, thinking back to when he first started tracking her down. But there was nothing, even going through all the programs he could within the Red Rooms files, he couldn’t find a trace of her anywhere after him. 

He was terrified, because if he couldn’t find a single trace of you that might have meant you were gone and he didn’t think he could survive in a world that he knew didn’t have you in it. 

But then Natasha freed the Red Room while he was ‘snapped’ and the world he came back to was a world with the Widows and all their secrets revealed. And that’s when he found Yelena….. Well Yelena had found him. 

She had been suffering from the loss of her sister, and had taken to finding all the widows herself to make sure they were fine. She was the one person in this world that had the information he needed. 

Sam, the new captain america, had poured over the intel with him. Your intel, the trail to find you. 

“You sound as if you have.”

“Not yet, but I’m close.” He nods. “I have this feeling in my chest, that I’m almost there. That I’ve almost got her. And I can give her what she’s always wanted.”

“And what’s that?”

“A candle that smells like orchids by a front door where you can hang your keys. A door mat decorated to invite kids to trick or treat on Halloween. Curtains that catch the light in the morning.” None of the things he mentioned were his dreams, not until she had mentioned them. 

“I hope you get those things.” He does too. And he was close, matter fact he only had 3 more days before Sam and himself went to find you. 

- 

The inland taipan's venom is the most potent of any snake in the world. A single bite contains enough venom to kill around 100 adult humans. The venom is a cocktail of enzymes that paralyze nerve endings, destroy muscle tissue, and cause severe bleeding

- 

A month with the Soldat had been easy keeping to yourself, 2 months had shown you so much more. 

The first being he was extremely grumpy in the mornings, no matter what. Even before you both had begun getting along you had noticed that he hated them. Every move he made was tight, He would rip open the ration packets and stomp his feet just about anywhere. He would do weapons checks so that all you would hear were the clicks and twists of his gun and the metal hand grabbing everything. 

Then he would do bed checks, coming over to the cot you had claimed as your own to throw you off it and search through your stuff. 

Month three, 3 targets in, you had completely learned his morning routine. And since you had been on watch last night you got the gift of seeing it in real time. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning in his sleep and mumbling something about a Steve he sat up right at 5am, launching himself out of his cot and taking in his surroundings. He glared at you, which made you smirk as he passed to head to the bathroom. He stretched in there, too proud to admit that even the Soldat needed to loosen his muscles. You heard the water run telling you he was right on schedule with cleaning himself up and you took the chance to rest your head on the small pillow to close your eyes before he stomps back. 

You know he is reaching for the ration packets without even opening your eyes, and you know he uses his teeth to tear it open in hopes to release some of the tension he had built up. You know he is already snatching your own ration packet to prepare it, moving to start the kettle and prepare the bowls. 

You have another 15 minutes of him checking his weapons, hearing him grunt with every weapon cleaned and polished before making sure they were all strapped into their holsters. The kettle starts ringing and he has the habit of rushing to grab it before it bothered you, and you always thought it was the most human thing to do, like a glimpse into who he would have been if he hadn’t become this monster. 

The smell of cream of wheat fills the air, and you hear his steps come to your cot, right on time. 

In the beginning he used to snatch you up to fling you, now he merely reached out a hand to guide you up without an ounce of aggression before he searched through your stuff. And normally you would go grab the rationed breakfast and get ready but today you chose to head to his own cot, sliding into it. 

You were just tired, and you really didn’t care as he turned to glare at you while you curled up, pretending that you weren’t basking in the smell of the leather and soap he wore, pressing your face into the cloth of the cot. A small ounce of fear fills you when he marches forward, only for him to pull the blanket up and cover your shoulders. 

And the warmth fills your body, black filling your vision as you fall asleep once more, this time in the Soldats bed. 

You wake a little later, eyes snapping around the room to check everything, finding the Soldat sitting over his tech to watch your next target. He snaps his head to you the second you sit up, eyes tracing over you before nodding in contempt and turning back to the task at hand. 

When you stand from the cot to grab your gear you are shocked to find that he had already prepared it for you. 

Not only had the Soldat let you sleep, but he had helped you prepare. 

And that small tug in your chest is a weakness, you know it, but that doesn’t stop you from turning to watch him work. 

If he wasn’t in this life you were sure he would have been a good man. 

You felt bad lying to him,  but you had to because good man or not he was a soldier first. And a good soldier would take you out for your weakness, a good soldier would kill you for what you were doing. 

- 

The worst part of waking up was the fact that you couldn’t escape the dreams and memories even with your eyes open. Most think that it’s over once you wake, but for you? Never. Every move is haunted by the past, every breath another painful punishment, and everywhere you look is just another reminder. There was nowhere you could escape. 

So when you manage to pull yourself from the nightmare, sitting up with your clothes drenched in a cold sweat, the darkness of the closet surrounding you like a blanket of protection. 

You’re not there….You remind yourself. If it’s dark then they are leaving you alone. 

And when you sit up, pain shoots through your hip at every single move, letting yourself out of the closet you begin your routine. 

3 am, a slight shower. Not long in fear you would be caught and in part you didn’t want to run too much water. Brush teeth, dress in suit. 

3:15, limp to the kitchen and start boiling water before you reach into your duffel to grab the pain pills you kept hidden away. The prescription written in your name feels wrong, like aren’t actually yours, like you are living the life of a stranger. But you remind yourself it doesn’t matter anyways as you shove it in your mouth, going back to scarf the cream of wheat down and then you head out for an intel session. 

You never take the door, instead you snatch your duffel and remove a little of the newspaper to slide out and climb down the fire escape. 

You take back roads, your static sounder messing up any footage of yourself the cameras might have caught. And soon enough you were prepping yourself to watch your target, venom sitting in the wrists of your suit, a little bit of that past routine giving you something to focus on. 

20 more names on the list until you would go after the Soldat, 21 more names total. 21 names until you are finished with it all. 

All you had to do was wait for the perfect time to kill this one. 

- 

The bite of the Inland Taipan with envenomation can be rapidly fatal, it can take as early as 30 minutes

- 

The Widow had worn on the Soldat, a shame to admit. 

A routine had built where it shouldn't have and now instead of working around each other they worked with each other. They made the rations together, ate together, cleaned their weapons and reloaded them together. 

When he would sit to watch the intel she began coming to sit with him, if not to watch it herself she would lean her head against him and find something to busy herself with while he worked. 

But the biggest change was the banter. 

Gone were the days of him grunting and glaring, she would refuse that now. Instead they found themselves going back and forth, but it was never serious, mostly teasing. 

She would speak in French to piss him off because she knew the Soldat struggled to keep up with it. He would come out of the shower and lean over where she slept to make the water drip down on her while she tried to sleep. She would trip him as he tried to get dressed and he would pull out strands of hair while she did it. 

Back and forth, push and pull. 

Today, when they were planning to start the intel stage on the next target it had turned out to be a downpour of rain, and normally he would go anyway. And yet, when you went to grab your suit he reached out his flesh hand to stop you, pulling you to sit back down. 

“Today, we rest.” He orders, watching your eyes narrow at the russian before you nod and stand, keeping ahold of his hand as you head to where you both keep the stash of rations. 

This safe house was freezing, and it made him miss the last one, not to mention this safe house only held one cot. The best part about this safe house? 

It had amazing rationing food. 

So when you shook the pack to heat it up he made sure to stay close and start the kettle. Keeping so close that he could always feel your arm against him. 

And once the rations were ready you both huddled together against the counters for cover so you could let your walls down a bit, sitting side by side. You shared your beef and potatoes, he shared his spaghetti, eating out of the portion packs and drinking the tea. But his favorite part about this new routine was when the conversation turned to dreams. 

“If I wasn’t in this program……” You hum, and he can’t help but watch your every movement, the way you lick your hips and scratch your forehead in contemplation. “I would have a big house.” 

He huffs out a laugh, shoving the last of his food in mouth as you shrug. “Yes, a big house. And…… and I would have a candle that smells like orchids so whenever people enter they think it smells nice….. And maybe a rug outside the door so they can see it when the kids trick or treat.”

He can’t help the smile that forms from listening about your dream, grabbing your trash to throw away before cleaning out the mugs you both used. 

“Oh! I’d have kids. At least 7!” You continue, following him before shuffling to tech case to find your camera set up. He knows you’re going to triple check that everything is working to busy yourself, something you often did whenever you brought up the idea of kids. 

Widows couldn’t have kids, this he knew. They all received the procedure. To stop periods, to keep their bodies from transforming too much and too prevent pregnancies whenever Dreykov sent them on seduction missions. And before the Soldat had met you none of that had really mattered to him. 

But now, the thought of you being used like that, it made him furious. And he tried to figure out ways to prevent it, ways to stay attached to you as a mission partner forever. 

But that would never happen, they would never allow that. So he tries not to think about it, instead he moves forward to pull you away from the tech, pulling you to the cot so you both can lay down, pulling the blanket up and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Goodnight,” You whisper in french, and pinches your arm to make you laugh before letting himself fall asleep. \

- 

Bucky had the defense of saying that they had tried knocking first, and that was a lame defense at that. But he thought about his arguments as he picked the lock with ease, pushing the door open and letting Sam take the lead. 

At the last second his flesh hand grabs at the Captain America suit, pulling his friend back to warn him. “A quick heads up, she doesn’t fight like the others.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, don’t let her wrap her legs around you and don’t let her knives come into contact, small slash or not they are all laced in venom. And above all avoid getting punctured by any of her weapons.” He explains. 

“I thought we were going in to reason with her.”

“We are.” Bucky sighs, his chest constricting in pain. “She’s just a little lost. We’ve all been there.”

The need for revenge was strong. He had been there himself, Yelena had been there. Many widows have been there. And you were currently handling that yourself, handling all the trauma yourself. And that thought hurt him. 

Sam had agreed to help, to come with him and find you, talk you down from this path Captain America style. 

So they stood together as they pushed the door in, searching every inch of the apartment for you until they realized you weren’t here. So instead they looked around for where you might be. 

“I thought all the Hydra Safe Houses had been torn apart.” Sam mutters, admiring the work you did on the windows, newspaper covering nearly every inch while Bucky moves to the closet where he had seen the bed in their search for you. 

He could imagine you nestled up in the cot, surrounded in the dark. The way you used to pull the covers completely over your head to hide from the sun and use your feet to pull the blanket in so you were fully cocooned. 

But this….. None of this was you. Countless times talking about your dreams and this was the outcome? You deserved better. 

“Everything you told me about her just doesn’t seem right here.” Sam mutters once more moving to the kitchens and digging through the cabinets. “Military rations and tea. That’s all.”

“She was so full of life, used to dream of her freedom. She needs help.” Bucky snaps, anger beginning to course through him as he heads to the kitchen. One of your biggest things when you were paired was hiding the tech when you left so no one would have access. 

Your favorite spot was always the bottom left cabinet and sure enough it all sat there. 

“Brilliant.” Sam smiles, leaning over the laptop as Bucky hacks his way in to see what you have been watching. It takes a moment for the footage to load, and once it does he finds video footage of a man walking around his apartment in a towel. 

“Live feed.” Bucky mumbles. 

“That’s Eaiton,” Sam sighs, leaning forward as the man walks down a hall and heads into what looks to be a master bedroom. The footage follows the movement and when the feed changes to another camera you had hidden Sam whistles. “And that is NOT Eaitons wife.”

“Course not.” Bucky chuckles, pulling out his phone to enter in the address on the intel. “What do you know about him?”

“Nothing much. Was on Congress, just got removed but they didn’t announce it. Kept the whole thing hush hush. Last I talked to Yelena she was looking into his name, it’s why I recognized him so quickly.”

“The address isn’t far off, if we take the back roads we can avoid traffic.” Bucky explains, beginning to lead the way out of the apartment while already dialing on his phone. It rings and rings and rings.  Once the call fails he tries again and again and again. 

Finally it’s picked up, a brash voice filling his ears, out of breath. “Who the fuck keeps calling?!”

“Jared Eaiton, I’m calling to inform you that your life is in danger. I advise you to not hang up.” Bucky starts, watching Sams wings expand so he can take off as he straddles his bike. “I need you to do a couple things for me, starting with having you and the women you are with get dressed as normally as possible. I need you to act natural.”

“Why? For what?”

“Sir, there is a Widow somewhere near your apartment,” He explains, though part of him wants to let you get your revenge he knew you were better than this. You were more than a widow. “Step two, are you ready?”

- 

Inland taipans are generally calm and reclusive, preferring to escape from trouble. However, they will defend themselves and strike if provoked, mishandled, or prevented from escaping

- 

The Soldat moved easily with you, striding side by side as you prepared to take out the target. And normally you loved his proximity, but today it did nothing but give you anxiety. 

Something he seemed to be picking up on. 

Before you could split from him to follow the plan he grabs your elbow slowly, making sure to not trigger the fang puncture on your wrist, pulling you close to press his forehead against yours. “I don’t like this plan.”

“It’s a plan we have done many times.” You try to laugh, giving him your best pretty smile to push him off the track. It only makes it worse. 

“There is something wrong with you today.” He grunts out, keeping you close. “I don’t want to separate.”

“We do this, this is the plan.” You huff, “Don’t stress grumpy man.” 

You lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, watching his eyes narrow at you a little more, but you smile like nothing is wrong once more. Leaving his arms and heading off. 

You didn’t have time, he had been a little grumpy this morning which meant he will work faster on the mission, and you had two kids to smuggle out before he caught you. 

You had made sure to take the side closest to their room for this mission, climbing up to the second story window and sliding in like a shadow. It takes 5 steps until you are in their room, and your heart expands the second you see them. 

They slept so soundly, looking so peaceful that you knew you were a villain just for having to wake them up. But you do, keeping a hand over their mouths to keep them calm as you order them in english. 

“I need you to listen.” You order, as they both try to move away. “Follow me. Now.” 

The boy jumps to do so, the girl however holds her ground until you get on her level. “Listen to me, you and your brother are in danger here. And unless you want him to be hurt you will follow me.”

And so they do. 

You work quickly, breaking a vase as you pass, spraying a bottle of fake blood to make it look like splatter before you have them hold onto you as you crawl out the same way you entered. 

The Agent you worked with most the time was already standing in the streetlight waiting for you to deliver them. “Go with him, he will keep you safe.”

The boy, once again, does not wait to run and you’re sure he is still half asleep. The girl keeps a firm clutch on your hand, forcing you to kneel as a loud bang sounds out, letting you know the Soldat is nearly done. 

“I need you to go.” You whisper, pushing some of the hair from her face and tracing her cheek with your fingers. “He’ll take care of you ….. I promise.”

She nods, crying, but runs off. 

And you don’t have time, but you watch anyways. The way the agent scoops them up and hugs them close, both their arms wrapped tightly around him. You envy it, and you hate it all in the same go. 

They will never see their parents again, they will never know the safety of their home. After today they are ruined. 

But you could at least make sure they get into the car safely before heading back, out of breath with tears falling down your face. 

You’re so panicked about time that you slip on your way in, slipping in the fake blood and slamming into the broken glass of the vase right as the Soldat comes around the corner in a fury. 

You panic, the rage written on his face makes you think he knows. He must know. This was the end and he would go back and find the kids, This will all be ruined. 

But the second he kneels in front of you the rage disappears, instead he is pulling at your limbs so he can look you over, checking you for any injuries you realize. 

“It’s not my blood.” You try to explain. 

“It is.” He snaps, eyes narrowing as he pulls a piece of glass from your hip. “You’re hurt.”

And when you look down you realize it is in fact some of your blood, since you had fallen on the vase. He pulls you to look back at him, keeping his hand on your jaw. “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t check for the kids, he merely drags you away. 

- 

The target was acting weird, both him and his prostitute were. You knew better than that, and you refused to let this one slip away today, you were so sick of watching him and his hookers. 

So you grabbed your gear, and went to work. 

Never take the front door, that was the first rule. So you climbed onto the roof of his apartment building, finding the skylight and carving your way in, sliding down on a rope to land on your feet and pull out your knife prematurely. 

Immediately you know something is off, the sharp feeling in your spine makes you feel like there is a predator near. 

A predator you know all too well by the smell of leather. 

You can’t help the hiss that passes your lips as you whirl to find him, kicking out to knock him off his feet as soon as you can. Only he was prepared for that, catching your foot with his metal, pulling you close only to barely dodge the knife you slash at him, his eyes wide. 

You take his shock to your favor, slashing at him again, his metal arm coming up to protect him. The clash rings out and you hiss again, making him grunt out as you distribute the weight. Only to get knocked off your ass by another figure. 

You had been so distracted with your hate for the Soldat that you missed the red white and blue suit.

You waste no time to twist and attack at them, turning feral with the need to kill.  

And then the fight turns 2 against one. Every slash you make is dodged by a metal shield or a metal arm, every kick is met with one of their own, every punch is caught and pushed away. They both track your movements well, easily even. 

You kick the chest of the Captain, sending him reeling back, throwing a knife to trap his sleeve to the ground as you turn back to the Soldat and move to stab the knife down, he catches it between the crook of his metal arm, grunting out to keep you further back. 

“I don’t want to do this.” He grunts out as you push down with the knife, hissing. “You don’t need to do this.”

“Need?” You laugh bitterly. “I want to do this.”

And you almost got it until he kicked out your feet and sent you reeling back. 

You were getting desperate, panicked, and though you knew better than to let yourself get this way you couldn’t help it. So with no true aim you threw the knife, the Soldat catching it with one hand as you charge at him, triggering the fangs as you use his own knee to launch up, your knee pressing on his shoulder with your right hand pulling his hair to expose his neck while he drops the knife. 

Instead of pulling you off his arms come up to catch you, like natural instinct. And you are pathetic because you hesitate, this is your chance to get him and yet you feel tears in your eyes as you can’t even push your hand to get him. 

And then you’re being thrown as something hits your back, air leaving your lungs. 

Pain laces through you as you fly off him, the shield flying back to the Captain while you fall to the ground. 

Not only do you feel the pain in your back but your hip hits the floor and you cry out, struggling to get back to your feet to keep fighting. 

“Hey! Don’t you dare!” The man in the USA suit orders, pointing at you like you are a dog. “Stop.”

You hiss while the Soldat chuckles, wiping some of the blood from his lip. “Listen-”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging out to attack but it’s no use as you crumble to the ground, your hip giving out. He’s quick to go to help you, only to be pushed back as you reach to snatch another knife only for his boot to step on it. 

“You used to be better at this.” He huffs out, still breathing heavily as the other one comes closer. 

You want to kill him, to yell at him and hit him. You want to tell him that he’s the reason for all of this. But the tears are falling and your hip is throbbing. 

You’re useless. 

“Kill me.” You snap. “Just do it. Get it over with.”

You watch as his face crumbles, pain lacing his features while his partner takes charge. 

“We are here to help you, that is all.” He starts. “You want revenge, that’s understandable. But there are better ways, I promise you.”

“Better ways?” You hiss out a laugh through the tears. “You’re kidding me.”

“You want to ruin these men, and I understand.” He leans down, and you risk a look to the Soldat, who is watching you with a devastating look, you are forced to turn back to the other to avoid getting sick. “You have information on them, you can testify-”

“What? So they can get out of it?” 

“No, they could serve time in-”

“COULD. They could.”

“Then we get revenge.” It’s the Soldat that says this, his voice tight. “We will, I promise. You work with Sam and I and we will get intel on them all, enough so that they don’t have a chance. But no killing.”

You look back and forth between them, watching as they have a silent conversation between them, before the captain finally nods with a deep sigh. 

Soldat turns back to you, kicking the knife to you gently. “Come on.”

“I can get you a full pardon.” His partner offers. “Full pardon of all crimes within the red room to now. So long as the three of us work together.”

“My entire list?” You sneer, risking a look to the Soldat one more time. 

“Entire list.” He nods, watching you closely. 

And then it clicks for you. You’re trapped here, there is no doubt. But if you could get closer, to trap him in, you could finish your promise to yourself. 

You can kill him. 

So, with a final hiss and tears falling down your face you nod slowly, clutching your hands into fists as you answer with a ‘deal.’

- 

The inland taipan is a specialist hunter of mammals, and its venom is adapted to kill warm-blooded species. The venom acts quickly to kill the prey before they can bite back or escape

- 

The Soldat helps you the entire way, even though you weren’t actually hurt, which you tried to tell him. But the arguments were no use, he would hear none of it, instead he pushed to carry you until you both made it home. 

He hauls you to the bathroom, setting you down to start the water and let it heat up before removing your suit as slowly as possible. Once the suit of off he helps you sit down so the cut is exposed and he can clean it. 

The fact that such a small cut would bother him so much nearly makes you laugh, but it also gives you butterflies, and you wonder if this is how normal people feel. So you lean forward, grabbing his attention. And without thinking you kiss him, your lips meeting his as you melt into him. 

This would change everything, and you know it, but you don’t care. And he didn’t either by the way his arms wrap around you, melting into the kiss just as you had. 

- 

You were going to kill the Soldat, it was something you had promised yourself long ago. In the darkened cell they had kept you in, near dead, the only thing keeping you from giving up was that promise. 

‘I will not leave this earth unless he is gone from it’ 

You would kill him, this was fact, no matter what you had to do. Once you did that you could kill yourself.  This final mission was yours.

-

[dbnightingale24]

React

A Stepcest Love Story About Jim

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Chapter 1

See? I'm actually updating in a non-annoying time frame.

Word Count: 4,958

Warning: Swearing, Family Drama, Stepdaughter/Step Father interest, Drinking, Drinking Relapse, Minors DNI, Emotional Cheating, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn, Flirting...I think that's it.

Summary: Things become more intimate between you and Jim.

~~

I do not give permission/consent for my stories/works to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior/relationship, this is for entertainment purposes only.

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Chapter 2

“Why don’t you want to go tonight?” your best friend, Ciara, asks you take a seat next to her on the sofa, and you both watch Nora play on the floor. 

“Why do you want to go so bad? You hate her,” you laugh.

“Be that as it may, your Mum knows how to throw a party, and she seems to want you to go pretty damn bad.”

“Eh, she probably just wants to make up for embarrassing herself in front of her new husband,” you mutter with an eye roll.

“That’s the other thing! I wanna see your hot new step daddy,” she smirks mischievously, and you burst out laughing. 

“I thought you and Darragh are trying to make a go of it?”

With a shrug, she simply responds with, “I didn’t say I’d touch, I just wanna look.”

“You’re a fuckin’ mess,” you laugh as your phone buzzes for the millionth time. “Fuckin’ hell,” you groan, checking another text from your Mother.

Life Giver: Jim and I would really like it if Ciara and you came tonight. We’re gonna have so many friends...it’ll be good for us.

Since the fiasco that was you coming home two weeks ago, your Mother has been doing her best to get on your good side, and has only blamed her “blowup” on you a handful of times.

For her, that’s growth.

In all honesty, you’re not even mad at her, you’re just not in the mood for any of her theatrics. You already know how the rest of the Summer will play out if you give in and forgive her but, at the same time, she does have Jim now. The last thing she wants to do is make a fool of herself again. He seems like the kind of man who’s finally giving her the life she wants, and she’ll kill herself before she fucks that up.

“C’mon, maybe it’ll be fun,” Ciara encourages, pulling you from your thoughts.

“You just want free booze.”

“Well, there’s also that,” she agrees with a laugh. “Darragh is picking up Nora, and he’ll have her for the week. So, if this party sucks, I’ll have the rest of the week to make it up to you,” she promises with pleading eyes. 

“Do you really think it’ll be worth it?”

“Y/M/N is a lot of things, but a bad party thrower is not one of them.”

She had you there. For all of the faults your Mother has, she’s always been able to throw a party that people talk about for months. It’s one of the perks about having a young Mother. She had you when she was 16, and the second you were out of her, she went right back to partying. She may be turning 40, but you’re more than sure she still knows how to throw a party. 

“We’ll go for an hour, and then we’ll go dancing,” you smirk as Ciara lets out a squeal of delight.

Picking up your phone, you’re quick to respond to your Mother and let her know that you Ciara will come by for a little bit before going out.

“Darragh will be here in about an hour, so I’m gonna get Nora’s bag together, and we’ll get outfits together after they leave.” “How’s that going by the way? Where do you two stand?”

“I don’t know. It was a nasty and we can both still be pretty nasty to one another, and we don’t wanna raise Nora around that. We were so young when we had her, no clue what we were doin’, and we blamed each other. However, the love is still strong and we’ve ended up in each other’s beds more times than either of us can count. I don’t know, it’s hard but we’re trying. My parents aren’t happy.”

“Your parents put you out, who gives a fuck what they think?”

“I don’t know, they’ve been asking to come around and see Nora more, we’ve had a few talks and they apologized...they were disappointed in me-”

“My grandparents were disappointed in my Mum, but they didn’t put her out, and they sure as shit didn’t leave me alone to fend for myself. I’m glad you’re working things out with them, but I still don’t forgive them.”

“Babe, could this be some leftover anger towards your parents?”

“Nah, I’m just tired of shit parents. We get stuck with the suffering, and then we’re just supposed to forgive ‘em like it’s nothin’, and it’s not fair. You got top marks, there’s not a single person who can find somethin’ negative to say about you, and you’ve always been honest with them. Even when it was hard. You do one thing they don’t like and they put you out. Now, after the damage has been done, they’re ready to talk. Even if you actually want nothing to do with them, you’re not going to deny Nora the chance to have a relationship with them. They mess everything up and you’re the one stuck with cleaning it up.”

“I didn’t say it was any easy talk,” she mutters, running a frustrated hand through her hair, “there was a lot of yelling and crying. You’re not wrong in what you’re saying.”

“Even with my Mum, the argument we’re having is my fault. It can’t be that she lied to Jim, it’s my fault because I ruined the lie she set up.”

“What exactly did she tell him?”

“She told him she doesn’t drink that much, that she and I have always had a really great relationship but I made her take a backseat for school, and she doesn’t blame me for it-” “You’re serious?”

“Yup, and she told him that I’m not good with young kids, that’s why she’s been anxious for me to meet his.”

“You’re great with kids!”

“But this is my fault. I’m just tired of shitty parents. Why is always our job to be the ones to clean up after them?”

“Well, lets get little miss ready for her Father, then we’ll get ready to go,” she smiles as she picks up Nora, who claps and laughs at her Mother. “Like you said, we’ll go for a bit then we’ll go out.”

Smiling as you take Nora from her, you nod in agreement, “sounds good to me.”

Being the paranoid Mother shes always been, Ciara takes her time packing, double and triple checking everything as you dance around with Nora. By the time Darragh arrives, she’s packing the bag for the fourth time.

Laughing as he takes Nora from you, he assures her, “I’m sure you packed everything.”

 “We’re going out tonight and I don’t want you to have to come back because I left one of her comfort toys out. She’s been really fussy lately, and it really helps.”

“She has toys at my house too, love. It’ll be fine. What’s going on tonight?”

“My Mum’s birthday party.”

“You’re talking to her?”

“She won’t leave me alone about it, so I figured we’ll just go for a bit, then go to the Pub or something.”

“Don’t hit her.”

“She hit me!” you groan as he starts laughing. “Take good care of my goddaughter.”

He smiles as he starts to bounce her in his arms, promising, “only the very best.”

He’s quick to give Ciara a kiss before rushing out, and she bites her lip to fight off a smile.

“So uh, when’s the last time you two ended up in each other’s bed?”

“Last Saturday when I went to pick up Nora.”

“I hear chaotic wedding bells.”

“Lets get ready!” she laughs, pulling you up the steps along with her.

Getting ready proves to be harder than you can you imagine, because you truly have no idea what to wear. You haven’t been to one of your Mother’s parties in over a year, and you don’t want to overdress, and you also don’t want to under dress. 

Plus, there’s Jim. Your stepfather.

You’re so anxious about seeing him again, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve only met him the one time, but he left a lasting impression. You honestly don’t know why it matters so much, because it’s not like he’s anything to you. Yes, by marriage he’s your stepfather, but what the hell do you need one of those for? As far as you’re concerned, you’ve only ever had one father figure and he was your grandfather. Once he died, you didn’t need anyone else. You didn’t trust anyone else. 

You take about 20 minutes going back and forth between your favorite plaid mini-skirt, and your favorite black denim shorts, before Ciara finally took the reins and decided for you. She dresses you up in the plaid mini-skirt, your old ‘Siouxsie & The Banshees’ t-shirt that you stole from your Mother when you were 13, and black combat boots.

Looking yourself over in the mirror, you ask, “do you really think this is alright?”

“It’s the best of both worlds, babe. We’ll do your hair up in simple little space buns, and you’re all set.”

“Why do you always know how to dress me better than I dress myself?”

“Because you overthink every little thing,” she laughs as she sits you down and parts your hair. “I’m really happy we re-dyed your hair. The blue blends perfectly with the black. These buns are gonna look amazing!”

“Maybe leave a strand down on either side. That’ll look nice.”

“Now we’re talking!” she squeals.

As you start working on your makeup, your thoughts slowly start to calm down. You’re overthinking for no reason. You’d both had a long day, drinks were had, and you were both tired. No more no less. Once you see him again, and feel nothing towards him, you’ll see that all of your worrying is for nothing.

You hope.

~~

“How is it that your Mum always has a house full of people, and never runs out of booze? What was point of bringin’ the whiskey?” Ciara gripes as you two make your way inside.

“Cause, it’s her birthday and you’re supposed to bring a gift.”

“And what, might I ask, did she get you for your birthday?”

“Peace and bloody quiet.”

Ciara laughs and nods in agreement, “the best gift she could ever give you, honestly.”

“GIRLS!” your Mother’s voice rings out as she stumbles out of the living area.

Ciara scowls as she covers her face, “Christ on a bike.”

“Shes had to been drinking since morning,” you mutter with a smile as your Mother finally reaches the both of you and sloppily hugs you both.

The party started an hour ago.

“Happy birthday!” you beam, hugging her back. “We brought whiskey.”

“Not as if she needs it,” Ciara mutters and you stomp on her foot.

You’ll be dammed if an argument breaks out just as soon as you’ve arrived.

“Jim’s in the kitchen talking with Rose. Come and say hi!” she slurs excitedly, grabbing your hand and dragging you along with her, and your quick to latch onto Ciara and pull her along.

Not surprisingly, Rose is standing a little too close to Jim, but you know she won’t actually act on anything. For as much as you’ve never liked Rose, she’s most loyal friend your Mother has. They’ve been friends since they were 8, and wherever there’s an adventure, you’ll find them together and ready to engage.

Rose gushes once her eyes land on you, “there’s our girl!”

“Hey Aunt Rose.”

“And you brought Ciara! It’s been so long since I’ve seen the both of you!” she practically screams, engulfing you both in a tight hug. Clearly just as drunk as your Mother.

Your Mother pulls the bottle of Ciara’s hands as she comments, “I’ll take this and make you two drinks! I’m so happy you’re both here!”

Well, at least she’s having a good birthday.

“So, any big news? Anything happenin’ back at school? Any boys? Any jobs lined up after?” Rose questions off at rapid fire once she finally lets go of you and Ciara.

“Oh, uh, well I’m just-” “Hold that thought! I see Amy!” she squeals before running off.

“Is everyone fuckin’ drunk already?!” Ciara exclaims, gaining a small laugh from Jim.

“Well, Y/M/N has been up since 10, so she started drinking at 10:01.”

“Ah, you’re learning fast,” you giggle.

“Yeah, she wasn’t like this last year for any of the parties she threw. She drank, but it was actually during the party.”

“Just you wait till I finish school.”

Ciara snickers and shakes her head, “God, that’s gonna be so much fun, and we won’t remember a thing.”

“Right you are,” you laugh in agreement. “Jim, this is Ciara, my best friend since grade school. Ciara, this is Jim, my Mother’s new husband.”

“So you’re the hot stepdad? I get it, I completely understand,” she nods, slowly taking him in, as you burst out laughing and Jim becomes visibly flustered. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hot stepdad, eh?” he nods towards you.

“Words were said,” you shrug with a smirk as your Mother finally makes her way back over with the drinks.

“Jim, I’ve made you one too! This is party!” she laughs, handing out all three cups. “AMY!” she yells before stumbling out.

“You may as well drink up, because it’s only going to get worse from here,” you promise, raising your cup. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Ciara and Jim cheered in unison.

As you take a large sip of your drink, you feel Jim’s eyes glued to you, and every feeling you thought felt wash away comes rushing back. You look him directly in the eyes while continuing to drink, and Ciara between the both of you with a smirk tugging on her lips.

Oh God, you know that look.

Once Jim puts his cup down, he clears his throat, “are you girls staying for the whole party?”

“Uh-”

“Yes,” Ciara interjects, and you shoot her a look, which she completely ignores. “Figured it would be best, since everything was left such a mess before. If there’s one thing that’ll make Y/M/N forget that she’s irrationally upset, it’s booze and a party.”

Oh my God.

“Jim! Come say hi!” your Mother calls, laughing along with Rose, Amy, and you’re guessing Amy’s boyfriend.

“I’ll circle back,” he promises with a nod and a soft smile, before walking off.

“What are you doing?!” you snap once Jim is out of ear shot.

“Investigating.”

“Investigating what?!”

“Just how long you should be staying at my place.”

“What?”

“You don’t fool me. I saw the look you two exchanged, plus, Daddy Dearest couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.” “Stop it, he’s just being nice. It’s an awkward situation to be in because my Mother is...my Mother, and I guarantee he doesn’t know a majority of the people here.”

“What does have to do with you?”

“He knows me!”

“He met you the one time.”

“Ci-”

“There’s no harm in staying, besides, we can get shit faced here and sleep it off at my place.”

“I really don’t want to be around Rose all night,” you scowl, taking another sip of your drink.

“I won’t leave you to these assholes. Lets just stay and see what happens,” she suggests with a shrug before downing her drink. “Refill!”

You should’ve gone to the pub. You should’ve gone anywhere but your Mother’s house.

~~

4 Hours Later...

You and Ciara are absolutely shit faced, along with everyone else in the house. Between the calls for shots, not drinking as much water as you should have, and the drinks Ciara kept making for you, there was no other choice for you.

“Do you think your Mum locked the door to your room?” Ciara slurs, leaning against you.

“Hmm? What? Why?”

“I have to pee!”

You giggle and grab her hand, leading her through the crowd of people and make your way upstairs, “come on.”

“I love Nora, but I’m so happy I get to sleep this off.”

“Feel shit already?”

“No, but I know I will in the mornin’,” she groans and you giggle. “I’ll stand guard, go to the bathroom,” you encourage with a smile once you reach your room. 

“You’re a saint, baby,” she praises as she stumbles into your bedroom, practically running to the connected bathroom.

Giggling to yourself, you lean against the wall and take a sip of your drink. 

“What’re you doin’ up here?” a deep voice asks, causing you to jump.

You laugh when you see Jim stumbling out of your Mother’s bedroom, “Ciara needed to use the toilet, so she’s using the one in my room.”

“The ones downstairs are taken?”

“Guess so,” you smile up at him, taking another sip of your drink, “what’s your excuse?”

He sighs as he goes to take a sip of his drink, “I was hiding.”

“Ha! She finally wore you down?”

“How does she know so many people?!”

“She assumes everyone she parties with is her lifelong friend. They don’t judge her so, naturally, she wants to be around them all the time.”

“You don’t like them, then?” 

You scoff, “not in the slightest.” “Not even Rose?”

“That bitch. I especially don’t like Rose.”

There’s a small silence before he comments, “you look nice tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you know you do.”

“Wasn’t too sure, didn’t get many compliments tonight.”

“Then they weren’t payin attention.”

What the fuck are you doing?

“You should probably go and find my Mother.”

“She’s fine on her own.”

“It’s her birthday.”

“She threw the party. I’m having much more fun where I’m at.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’m going home,” Ciara states, suddenly coming out of your room, surprising both you and Jim.

“What? Why?”

“I need sleep.”

“You can sleep here.”

“Too fuckin’ loud and, knowing your Mother, she’ll want to keep this up for another few hours.”

“Well, how the hell are ya gettin’ home? You’re not walkin’.”

“I spent the last 5 minutes orderin’ a service. By the time I get downstairs, it should be here. I take you’re stayin?”

“You how she gets. Jim’s never dealt with her and Rose never stays to help.”

“You’re a better daughter than she deserves,” she smiles, wrapping you in a hug. “You’ll come round tomorrow?” “Yeah, let me know when you’re home safe, okay?”

She lets go of you and nods, “promise. Nice meeting you, Jim.”

“You too, get home safe,” he smiles as Ciara starts down the stairs. 

And just like that, you and Jim are alone again.

“You can go back into hiding again, she’s useless at this point.” “I can handle her.”

“While I believe that,” you giggle, “I’m saving you.” “And who saves you?”

“Me,” you smirk before walking off.

It’s nothing. Nothing at all. You’re both drunk, irritated, and it’ll mean nothing in the morning. It can’t mean anything, because you’re not that awful of a person. It’s just a bit of innocent fun. Nothing that can’t be shrugged off. 

For the rest of the night, you do your best to distance yourself from Jim, no matter how many times you catch him looking your way. When the party finally starts to wind down, as you predicted, Rose is the first one out the door, leaving your Mother half asleep on the couch.

“C’mon Mum, time to get you upstairs,” you groan, lifting her up.

“No-”

“Literally everyone has gone. It’s just you, Jim, and myself. It’s time for bed.”

“Great, your mad-”

“Not mad, just drunk and tired. Everyone needs to go to sleep. Now, up.”

With a huff of annoyance, she forces herself up and puts most of her weight on you, and you both slowly start on your way to the stairs.

“She alright?” Jim asks, coming to help, and wrapping your Mother’s other arm around his neck.

“She’s fine, just drunk.”

Your Mother scoffs in annoyance, “it’s not even that late.”

“It’s 2am,” you grunt, trying to keep everyone balanced.

Once you’re all finally at the top of the stairs, both you and Jim start to struggle, because your Mother has officially passed out and is now dragging her feet. Nonetheless, you both get her to bed and, while Jim undresses and dresses her, you set up water and ibuprofen on her bedside. 

“Got it from here?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, you alright?”

“Mhm, I’ll see you in the morning,” you smile before quietly making your way out.

Against your better judgement, after you’ve changed into one of your old nightshirts, you go downstairs and start to clean. No, you don’t plan on cleaning everything tonight, but your Mother won’t be up until late afternoon and there’s no way in fuck you’re gonna wanna clean all of this when you get up.

“What are ya doin’? I’ll take care of this,” Jim states gently, causing you to jump.

“No, get some rest. I’ve got it.” “Y/N-”

“I’m used to it. I’ll do some now and the rest tomorrow.” “You don’t have to take care-”

“I’m just used to it.”

“You don’t have to be anymore.”

“Jim-”

“I’ll take this side, you take the other,” he half smiles and you giggle.

“Sounds good.”

Maybe you should’ve gone home with Ciara, because the fact that it’s just the both of you, and you’re walking around in a long t-shirt and panties, and you’re once again drunker than you ever meant to get. If there’s one thing your Mother can unite everyone in, it’s getting people entirely too drunk. However, you can’t lie and say the extra help isn’t nice. Ciara would help if she was able, but her parents always hated her staying over as well as the state she would come back in, so help didn’t happen often. 

It’s only your second time with the older gentleman, but gentleman he is indeed.

“I think that’s a good bit for tonight,” you smile when you both meet up in the kitchen.

“There’s barely anything left for tomorrow.”

You scoff, “which makes my life easier.”

“You don’t have to take care of it, angel.”

Angel? That goes straight to foggy brain. 

“It’s just what I’m used to-”

“You don’t have to be, not anymore. You’re not alone,” he promises softly, faintly slurring, as he softly caresses your right cheek with his right hand.

The hand without his wedding band.

You find yourself leaning into it for just a moment, before pulling away and looking up at him, “goodnight Jim.”

“Night angel.”

Stumbling up the steps, you’re quick to escape into your room, finally letting out a breath didn’t even know you’d been holding. You don’t even bother to turn on the light, you just plop down on your bed and grab your phone to send Ciara a quick text. 

Y/N: Thanks for letting me know you’re back safe. Lots to talk about when I get back, and what the fuck? I should’ve left with you, lol. Anyway, I love you, night.

Too wired from your interaction with Jim, you decided to mindlessly scroll through your phone, trying to find literally anything to take your mind off of him. However, nothing seemed to do the trick. God, why couldn’t you just have decided to stay with Ciara from the very beginning? At this point, you would’ve much rather stayed oblivious to this whole damn thing. Your Mother clearly had no problem hiding it, so why now?

You’re just about to send Ciara another text when you hear your door open. 

“Jim?”

Almost instantly, the light comes on and he looks mortified, “fuck! I’m sorry, I wasn’t...I didn’t...I’m-” Laughing and waving your hand to beckon him in, you shake your head, “it’s fine.”

“I wasn’t payin’ attention-”

“It’s really alright, Jim. You’re drunk and it’s late. I don’t take it as you creepin’ in on me.”

“Good...thanks,” he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah no, I’ll leave you to it-” “What’s bothering you?” you ask, placing your phone down and sitting up.

“It’s no big deal-”

“Then you should have no problem telling me.”

He motions towards the room and you nod, as he enters and closes the door softly behind him.

“I’m just wonderin’-” “Jim, you can sit on my bed, I won’t bite,” you laugh. “I promise to be a good girl, daddy,” you tease, not noticing how he swallows thickly as he makes his way over and sits on the edge of the bed. “What’s got you all worked up after such a rowdy party?”

“Well, that’s it,” he laughs nervously, “has it always been like this? How did I not see it?”

“In your defense, I triggered it. I trigger her.”

“How? You’re an...an angel, and I don’t see how-”

“No one wants to commit themselves to a teen Mother, she didn’t want the responsibility, and my grandparents didn’t hold their tongues on how disappointed they were in her. I represent failure and resentment. I didn’t get knocked up in the back of some loser’s car at a concert, I’m continuing my education, my grandparents always made sure to tell me how much they love me and how proud they were...she feels like they wished I would’ve been their daughter instead. Which, isn’t the case at all, they just wanted her to do better. Her argument was always that she was young, and they always told her that it didn’t stop her from opening her legs,” you shrug with an awkward laugh. “We’ve had our rows in the past, some of them bad, and she knows how I feel towards her. I guess, now, she wants me to see that she’s changed. Stable man, stable life...she’s finally grown up. However, when I first met you, I was rightfully angry with her, and now she feels all those things again and she just...she spirals,” you smile weakly, wiping your eyes. “So, it’s not that you’re not a good judge of character or anything, you just didn’t know everything.”

He’s looking at you with the softest eyes, and you force yourself to look away, because it’s entirely too much for you to handle in your current state.

“I just...I’m not giving up on her or anything, I just don’t know how to handle her when she’s like this,” he mutters, turning away from.

You clear your throat and reach out for his hand, “well, take into account that tonight was a good night. She was hanging all over you, she wanted you by her side, and she was laughing and dancing almost the entire time. Yeah, she still drank her face off, but she was bearable. On her off nights...”

“What?”

“You go for a walk, go see friends, maybe go to the cinema...just let her have her fit. There’s no reasoning, because she’ll just want to argue and won’t take any accountability. It’s never worth it. Especially if Rose is with her.”

“Yeah, what’s the story there?”

“Rose is the worst fucking person. She’s selfish and a deadbeat. Whenever my Mother wanted to actually make an actual attempt to be a parent, Rose was always there to say ‘your parents will take care of her! You’re young!’ and yeah, my Mother is her own person, but Rose didn’t help anything. The moment I was able to drink, they brought me everywhere so they’d have someone to bring them home, and Rose would talk her into going off with her to do God knows what and leave me on my own.”

“Why does she keep her around?”

“That’s her best friend. When Ma got knocked up, Rose stayed by her side, she doesn’t make her feel bad about herself, she’s been there after every guy left, and they party together. Rose is a terrible influence, but she’s always been a good friend. Gotta give her that,” you mutter.

Jim looks as if he wants to say something, but he’s at a loss for words. So, you smile and take control of the conversation.

“I couldn’t help but notice you going through the record collection tonight.”

He laughs softly, finally taking your hand in his, “you noticed, eh?”

“This has always been a family of impeccable music taste.”

“I could tell by the shirt you wore tonight.”

“Yeah? Tell me more about what you love.”

It’s not like you mean to keep him in your room for so long, but you two get so caught up in conversation, and you lose track of time. At some point, you both end up laying down on your bed (your head on his chest and leg around his waist while his hand is wrapped around you and stroking your hair), and none of it feels wrong. You know it is, but you feel so at peace with him, that it just feels as if it’s meant to be.

‘None of this will matter in the morning,’ you tell yourself mentally.

You yawn as you slowly start to succumb to sleep, “Jim?”

“Yeah angel?”

“When I leave, she’ll go back to normal. It won’t always be like this,” you promise softly and he lets out a heavy sigh. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have to leave for her to go back to how she was.”

“It’s what’s best for everyone.” “Not me,” he mutters into your hair before pressing a soft kiss into it, and your heart breaks at his words. “Just sleep. We both need to sleep.”

As you drift off, you tell yourself that none of this matters. Nothing that’s been discussed, and not you two holding each other close while your Mother snores the night away in the next room. All of this is just temporary until you leave.

Too bad your heart won’t follow suit.

~~

[jstarr86]

Part 1 of 2 maybe a three idk yet

He was so hot but so off limits. I knew my friends would probably literally kill me for crossing that line especially given the current situation. I’d been watching their segment, as they annihilated anyone in their way. The way his body looked every time he’d jerk the shirt off, it should be illegal to look like that. I was walking down the hall honestly not paying attention to where I was going just I needed to not be so glued to the tv especially when I needed to focus on my match

“Umph.” I grunted hitting something and struggling to stay on two feet when a pair of warm hands firmly gripped my waist keeping me standing. I heard a growl and my eyes shot up my eyes meeting angry brown before quickly trailing over the three other men finally landing on Solo. My eyes darting back to the one in front of me, him; Tama. “Shit I’m sorry.” I said looking at him glancing back at Solo who was silently watching us. Loa just quiet and Jacob looked ready to murder me at a words notice. “Sorry Solo.”

“Athena, Athena.” He lowly chuckled. “Funny running into you.”

“Not sure how almost busting my ass is funny but thanks.” Tama growled and Jacob moved but Solo stopped him with holding his hand up

“You should be thanking me for catching you.” My eyes went back to his brown ones. Pools of deep chocolate with gold flakes his voice low and it sent a shiver down my spine and pooled between my legs that I tried not to show.

“Thanks for catching me Prince Charming.” I replied making him smirk and chuckle.

“You talk to them.” Solo interrupted. I knew he was talking about his brothers. They were some of my closest friends, Naomi being one of my best friends. I worked with the bloodline early on before an injury pulled me away from the story.

“I talk to plenty of people.”

“You know who I mean.” I didn’t respond “Athena.”

“Boy don’t raise you’re voice at me like I’m some dog I’m not the one.”

“Excuse you.” Tama growled out

“You heard me pretty boy.” I looked to Solo. “Who I speak with is irrelevant. Side note though good to see you coming into your own and doing more than brooding and beating people up least you’re calling the shots this time, well I guess.”

“What’s that mean.”

“You really the one in charge or is someone pulling the strings behind the scenes, maybe DJ.”

“I’m the tribal chief.”

“Ok.”

“Athena watch it you’re pushing it.”

“Wasn’t she with yall, what you on they side.”

“I’m on no one side but my own so you can stop growling at me like a dog thinking it’s going to intimidate me, does he need a treat.” I said looking back to Solo as Loa chuckled at his brother.

“You’re pushing my limits.”

“Yeah I’m good at that. I have been pushing buttons how long I mean cmon let’s not act like you’re cousin wasn’t slightly excited I got injured. I’m pretty sure I annoyed Roman to no end.” I walked off pausing by Jacob “killer moonsault by the way.” Walking off I rounded the corner exhaling “shit.” I muttered softly. I wasn’t expecting that and I think if I’d been anyone else I’d be a heap in the floor right now. We had house shows and I made my way to my car but felt eyes on me. The new bloodline staring I finger waved and got in my car. The hotel I checked in showered and changed. I went to the vending machine grabbing a drink and some ice I heard something and looked over my shoulder stopping as I saw him. He was slightly intimidating the way his eyes trailed over me. Like a lion stalking a gazelle. I went to leave the small area when his hand shot out touching my hip stopping me and almost making me drop everything as his warm hand met skin. My eyes shooting to his dark ones my eyes glanced down to his lips and back. Before I could comprehend his lips were on mine causing me to gasp and drop the bucket of ice but he pulled back catching it. He took my hand pulling me “where are.”

“Shhh.” He said holding his finger to his lips. “What room are you?”

“632.”

“Give me your card.” I raised my eyebrow but handed him the card as he unlocked the door. Walking in he put the bucket on the table before grabbing me again and kissing me my hand flying to his face. He could kiss I’d give his ass that. I slid his hands down my body gripping my ass firmly as he lifted me in his arms my back hit the wall as I pulled my lips back but he just started kissing my neck making me moan out as he hit my spot, I felt his lips curl into a smirk against my skin

“You really shouldn’t walk around looking like this late at night, you never know what kinda creep is lurking.” He softly spoke his whispered words sending a shiver through my body. The tiny shorts and sports bra not doing much but I never expected anyone let alone him. I didn’t respond the smart ass retort dying on my lips as he tugged the top down mouth on my breast in an instant as I gasped. I could feel how hard he was and swallowed thickly his lips met mine again igniting an inferno. I pulled his shirt off and he let me down looking me over before tugging my top off. He picked me back up laying me on the bed as his kisses trailed my lips and down my body like lava. I bit my lip trying to hide the effect he was having on me but he paused at my stomach looking up at me.

“Don’t hide those pretty little moans. Let me hear you.” He tugged my shorts off smirking his eyes meeting mine. “Naughty, no underwear.”

“Oh shut-fuck.” My retort cutting off into a moan as his mouth met my body. Tongue sneaking out as he groaned.

“Fuck your taste better than I thought you would.”

“Tama.”

“Yeah that’s my name baby, you gonna get real used to it leaving that pretty little mouth of yours.” His hands gripped my hips holding me as he totally devoured me. My body arching off the bed my hands on his head. He held me down not letting me move as he took his time driving me insane. When his fingers joined the party expertly curling into my gspot I came moaning his name. He stood back tugging his shorts and boxers off my eyes trailing his body, a small smirk crossing my face as my eyes went back to his him wearing a smirk. He was definitely packing. I sat up on my knees leaning towards the edge of the bed cautiously meeting his eyes. I slid my hand over his impressive length before my mouth followed, his hand immediately meeting the back of my head as a low moan left his lips. I could feel him twitch when his fingers curled into my hair a bit tighter and he pulled me back. He kissed me slightly passionately a bit more than I expected he harshly squeezed my ass making me gasp as he slid his tounge in my mouth asserting dominance a bit faster than I’d had liked but damn he was making me feel some type of way he gently pushed my shoulder and I laid down as he pulled my legs sliding me down the bed “I’m gonna ruin you.”

“You can try, I don’t break very easy.” He smirked darkly before easing into me my eyes slightly widening at the stretch

“Hmm wonder who made you this wet, tight as fuck.” He pushed the back of my thighs opening me wider as his thrust roughened my nails scrapping down his back. His thrust powerful like he was trying to brand me with his dick so I’d feel it long after we were done “You look so good taking my dick.”

“Mmm god.” I moaned my head back his lips hopefully not leaving marks.

“Not god baby. Just me.”

“Tama.”

“You gonna cum princess. Mmm common my dick.” His hand trailed down my body pinching my nipple before going south rubbing rough circles in my clit as I gasped a moan cumming. He pulled out as I whined as he smirked smacking thigh “brat, don’t worry pretty I’m no where near done with your gorgeous little ass roll over.” My face buried in the bed as he entered me again. My fingers curling around the sheets. This angle he was hitting my gspot with each thirsts making me thankful my face was in the comforter as moans poured from my lips he smacked my ass his other hand sliding up my back and into my hair pulling my head up. “Nah let me hear you. Shit.” He grunted

“Mm Tama.” He smacked my ass again as I moaned

“Mmm my lil freak.”

“You feel so good.”

“So do you, this my pussy now.”

“Fuck.”

“Aint it.”

“Yesss.” I moaned. “I’m fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“I got you cum for me beautiful, give me that pussy.”

“Tama!” I barely registered him growling out my name as he ground into me. “Holy shit.” He chuckled against my shoulder pressing a kiss into the back of it. He slowly pulled out as he let me all but collapse on my bed. He walked into my bathroom and came back a few minutes later chuckling. He laid next to me pulling me into his arms the last thing I felt was a kiss to my head. I woke up the next morning alone and if it wasn’t for the ache between my legs I’d had thought it was all a fucked up dream. I grabbed clothes and took a shower washing off my body. I smelled like him, I don’t know what happened but holy fuck. I walked out shrieking as I saw him sitting at the table. Dressed in all black

“What the fuck.”

“Brought your ass breakfast. Shit got half a mind to be late and rip all that off, you look good.”

“Thanks.” I muttered “you too.”

“My number is in your phone. I'll hit you up later.”

“How’d you get my phone unlocked.”

“Don’t worry about it beautiful, I got my ways.”

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Welcome. I’ll hit you up later aight.”

“What exactly is your plan. If Solo thinks he can-“

“Woah woah it ain’t like that, shit they ain’t even know I came here.”

“If you got some-“

“I don’t chill your ass out.”

“Excuse-“ I was cut off as he pressed his lips to mine. “Mmm” I let out as he pulled back chuckling

“I think you like me shutting you up princess.”

“If is like that I might not complain too much.” I sighed “you know I’m friends with-“

“Yeah the sorry excuse of a Bloodline I know.”

“Hey.”

“Shit you should join the good side the winning side the real side-“

“The dark side.”

“Mhmmm.”

“I’m not in this. Shit they would freak if they knew we are crossing a line.”

“Fuck that line.”

“We shouldn’t be crossing that they are my friends, I shouldn’t be crossing that line.”

“Well we already crossed it princess, all night long.”

“Now what?”

“For your sake we don’t let anyone know we crossed it, for now.”

“Solo is gonna kill you.”

“What he don’t know won’t hurt him. I’ll see you later.” He kissed my head walking out. I watched the door shut sighing I turned hearing my phone my breath hitching as I saw the name Jey I opened the text

“We chillin after the show”

“Whose we”

Me you and Jimmy and Naomi, by the way Roman said dinner after the show Friday he misses you

He never calls

Man he only hits up when he needs something or it’s important or a holiday

lol fine

And aye be safe

What you mean

I heard lil bro an em was messing with you the other day

Nah and I always do later

[stopisa]

brother’s best friend

cw: pussy eating <3

part 1 part 2

“shshshh” gojo hushes in response to your light moans as he kisses each thigh, gesturing your legs to hook over his shoulders. your little secret relationship had been going on for the last two months. sneaking in kisses in between the aisles at the library, holding hands under the table, and of course, scenarios like these in your dorm where he’s lapping his tongue like a meditative prayer between your legs. all in secret because god only knows what would happen if word got out that you two were a things. especially if it got to your brother’s ears.

running your fingers through his soft, snowy hair you let out airy, pathetic whines in pleasure, “f-fuck~” eyelids fluttering as you hope this feeling lasts forever…

the feeling is cut short by a knock at your door. startled, you jolt, pulling gojo up by his hair. “hello, y/n, you here?” fuck. shit. nononono. getou is standing outside, oblivious to the degenerate activities occurring behind the door. you and gojo stare wide-eyed at each other. another knock, “y/n?”

your instinct kicks in, “yea?! sorry just woke up from a nap.” you pretend to yawn, “what’s up?” gojo smirks at your blatant lie and proceeds to lower his head down to your heat again.

“um, did you forget we were supposed to get dinner with gojo? for some reason he’s not answering his phone so i’d thought get you first.”

before you could respond gojo starts sucking on that sweet spot again, “OH! i-it totally slipped m-my mind.” you shoot your head towards gojo, giving death glares into his crystal blue eyes. “you ok? you sound like you're out of breath?” your brother’s worry only agitates your anxiety but for some reason, the pleasure from gojo’s mouth is almost ethereal by the way it moves against your heat.

"i'm...i u-uh feel a bit under the weather." you state while faking a cough. "well you should've said something, i coulda brought medicine for you, if you open up i can-" you immediately cut him off with a "nope!" and at the same time you feel two of gojo's slender fingers slide into you. the silence behind the door is loud. you decide to break it, " 'just don't wanna get you sick too, it's p-pretty bad.."

getou sighs, "ok, guess i’ll check again and see if gojo is up for dinner still." you hear foots walk away from the door , and gojo believes it too as he continues eating you like a starved man. you hiss a whisper to him, "i'm so gonna kill you". he removes his mouth with a pop from you clit, "you sure you wanna do that before coming?" and already knowing the answer he dips down again.

a blaring ringtone comes from gojo's pocket and you immediately know it was the one he assigned to getou. getou booms from the other side of the door, never having left, "GOJO YOU SICK FUCK I KNOW YOURE IN THERE FUCKING MY SISTER!"

yea, you're gonna kill him.

[kittkatattacks]

Wip Wednesday 7/31/24

These are hella late but here are my sentences for 7/31 :)

Perfect season 20-22 for:

@happinessisntfun @owlbearwrites @1attheedge @eriquin

“I need you to get some information to the little lord.”

“Ah, I see. And what exactly would I be telling him?”

“Riko is getting out of control. He sent some of the freshman Ravens over to Palmetto to kill one of our players.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes. the player who was attacked saw who it was and I’m sure there’s a paper trail that leads back to the side branch if not to Riko himself.”

“Alright, I’ll check it out and relay your message. Is there anything else?”

“Thank you, and no, there’s nothing else right now.”

“Very well then, I’ll let you go.”

“Bye,” Neil says, and hangs up the phone, handing it back to Andrew.

He pockets the phone, leans back on his elbows and stares out at the parking lot. Neil doesn’t feel like going back inside so he sits with Andrew and stares at him, admiring how the sun lights up his hair and makes his eyes glow gold.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

AFTG space au for:

@enigma-the-mysterious @scifikimmi @auburnlaughter @adhdavinci

Neil finishes signing his email, heart pounding in his ears and sends it off before he can think about it too much. He quickly closes his laptop and leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head and then takes a few calming breaths.

In, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Out, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

In, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Out, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

He does this until he feels his heart slow and gets up to get ready for the day. 

Neil barely makes it through his first class; the professor monotonically goes over the syllabus and then keeps them there for another half hour talking about himself and how he ended up in ‘such a fine establishment’. He resorts to alternating between drawing on the handout given to them at the start of class and stabbing himself in the thigh with a pen.

He meets up with Jean for a late lunch and they both talk about how their classes are going so far.

“I’m just saying, that class is shit. I don’t understand why we need to take it.” Neil says, referring to his undergraduate studies class.

“We have to take it because someone,” Jean replies, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork, and then pointing it at Neil, “wanted to explore Europe instead of going to college when we graduated.”

“Whatever,” Neil says, swatting the broccoli away. “It's not like I made you come with me.”

“True, but irrelevant. Besides, if you had gone on your own, who would have been there to take care of you after all of the times you got into fights and needed patching up.”

“I could have done it myself or gone to a clinic,” Neil says, already knowing he’s going to lose this argument.

“Bullshit. I’ve never met someone who hates hospitals more than you do. Also I’ve seen you try to patch yourself up, you’re pretty shit at it.”

“Alright, Alright,” Neil says, putting his hands up in surrender, “you win.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

YLPWBOYF for:

@somefishycat @wizisbored

Lola wastes no time getting into his space, knife in hand, crowding him even more into the car door. 

“So, Junior,” Lola says, like she’s gossiping with a friend, “I’ve just got to know, where’d Mary run off to?” She presses the tip of the knife into his cheek when he doesn’t immediately answer, just enough to draw a drop of blood. 

Nathaniel doesn’t flinch despite the pain he feels and replies, “Like I’d ever tell you that.”

“Maybe,” Lola says, “but I have a feeling you’ll tell me sooner or later.”

Nathaniel wants to question how she plans to do that, but keeps his smart mouth shut, his mind already coming up with multiple ways that she could.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

DMRA for:

@zyrafowe-sny @whimsicalmeerkat @aparticularbandit @post-and-out

Aaron can tell he’s struck a nerve, the bulging veins on either side of Hill’s forehead giving away just how much he has. 

Halsey steps between them, redirecting Hill’s attention to him and Aaron takes the chance to give Kevin a once over.

Aaron hadn’t thought much of him when he first walked in, having been more focused on Hill. However, now that he’s really looking, he notices how muscular Kevin’s arms are, his jade-green eyes and how he towers over most of the people in the room, including himself.

Aaron turns his attention back to Hill and Halsey, “I look forward to seeing you in class,” Hill says, but Aaron can tell he is still pissed from earlier despite the smile he wears.

He glares at Hill until he’s gone and turns his attention back to Halsey who checks his watch, “I’ve got to go, there’s a call I need to make. Kevin, could you please show Mr.Minyard the Emergency room.”

“Of course, I was on my way over there anyway,” Kevin says.

Aaron gives Kevin his full attention now that Halsey is gone, “You sure know what to say to impress important people huh?”

“I assume you mean Hill.”

Yeah, he’s a pain in the ass but he’s got a lot of influence here. Let me guess, you’re taking Dr.Hill’s class?”

“Yep.”

“Well, if I were you, I’d tone down the animosity. Getting an F in his class is like a bad review from the New York Times; it’ll ruin your career before it even begins.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[raychleadele]

What resources would you suggest for someone who wants to get into plant life?? I live near Dallas and I’ve tried my hand out a few times with plants but I feel so clueless and I’m not even sure what plants would thrive here! Any books? Videos? Podcasts??

I watch a lot of YouTube videos! What to recommend fully depends on what kind of plants you want to get into. Different kinds of plants require different kinds of care.

Succulents and cacti have similar care requirements, including WAY MORE LIGHT THAN YOU THINK. Succulents especially have a reputation for being easy to care for, and they are, but only after you figure out what they want. I spent years killing them before I got comfortable with them, but I love them now! They really really don’t need much water - mine get watered around once a month at most, but often even less - and you will want to get them a grow light. No, a sunny window isn’t enough. One of my favorite YouTubers for succulent care is Succulents and Sunshine.

Other houseplants need water more frequently and can thrive with less light, but even “low light” varieties do need light! A sunny window can be enough for most of them, but if you want plants in other areas of the house, a grow light can still be beneficial. A moisture meter is a cheap tool that can help you check if they need water or not. I usually water mine around once a week. A good YouTuber for houseplant care is Sheffield Made Plants.

If you want to grow things outside, first you want to look up the USDA Plant Hardiness Zone Map. Hardiness zones simply are a code to tell you what plants can grow well in your region, and are based on average low temperatures of a region. Pretty much any plant or seed you buy will have a suggested zone range on its tag. Higher numbers have higher average low temperatures and generally a longer growing season. I believe Dallas is in Zone 8, which is a couple zones warmer than mine.

If you want to grow vegetables, which is something I love doing, you can start seeds in a seed tray indoors under a grow light a few weeks before your last frost and then transplant them to your garden once the weather is warm enough and the seedlings are at least a couple inches tall. I did this with tomatoes and peppers this year, and they did great! Some plants do fine being “direct sown” (planting seeds directly in the garden without being started indoors) and I’ve had good success doing this with lettuces and other greens, as well as beans. Regardless of your method, you usually want to plant more seeds than you think you need, because not all of them will sprout. If you don’t want to bother with planting seeds, you can get plant starts at a plant nursery or big box hardware store. I usually do this for things like herbs. Outdoor plants will need to be watered more often than indoor plants because they dry out more quickly. I usually try to water my vegetable garden about every 2-3 days, but they’ll want daily water when they’re very young. One YouTuber I like for vegetable gardening is Gardener Scott, who is in Colorado, but I’m sure there are others who grow in a climate more similar to yours, so look around!

I don’t have much experience growing flowers outdoors, but I imagine the advice for them would be very similar to my advice for vegetable gardening. I don’t have any content creators to recommend for this category unfortunately, but I’m sure they’re out there!

This is just a very quick overview, but hopefully these tips can help you get started! If you want me to dig into a particular kind of plant more deeply, I’d be happy to! And don’t let a plant death discourage you - I have killed so many plants in my many years of caring for them, and even just this year I had multiple things in my vegetable garden simply not grow at all. (Looking at you, chives. Two years in a row now that they haven’t even sprouted! What the hell!) Every failure is a chance to learn, and not a sign that you’re not good at it! When something dies, or simply doesn’t sprout, don’t give up. It happens to all of us. Good luck planting!

[scoobydoodean]

i think it’s kinda funny how you don’t have some sort of online handle except your urls, so i can only ever address you as like dftsam. anyway i saw a take that said cas “learned” to feel unloved from dean, from the way dean treated him basically - an example they gave was dean looking away when cas said I love you as he was dying in s12 - and it seemed there were a lot of people agreeing with it. i’m not one of them, but if you were interested (only if you’d wanna talk about it, I’d get it if you didn’t) I’d love to get you thoughts on this idea?

So I read this at like 1-2 AM lying in bed and I was like this:

I find it so fucking funny when people start in on this shit, because Dean girls and Cas girls can do this to each other all day long. “Dean made Cas feel unloved” “Cas made Dean feel unloved”. You can build a framework for either (BOTH) by cherrypicking scenes to suit a narrative. Like. I can easily say that Cas repeatedly sent a message, regardless of his intentions, that Dean’s feelings don’t mean jack shit to him. I prefer to take things with humor and just understand where Cas’s issues are coming from (just like Dean—who makes his best effort to understand Cas; just like Cas makes his best effort to understand Dean) rather than get mad and demonize him so I can be angsty about Dean always feeling "unloved"… but the guy… look—making no effort to explain why he is like this at this moment (because Cas apologism is absolutely not the point of this ask) Cas is known to do the following:

Control the means of communication. You will pretty much never see Dean ghost Cas. Even when Dean was forced to kick him out, he checked up on him to make sure he was okay. But Cas will knowingly and intentionally ghost Dean’s prayers and calls for days and weeks at a time on repeat through their ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP. Dean has expressed that this upsets him more than once, but Cas continues to do it. Every once in a while he’ll throw in a half-assed apology sure—but it doesn’t mean anything. He’s going to do the thing he’s apologizing for again as soon as he’s decided he doesn’t want to face Dean’s questions or doesn’t want him involved yet again. Which means 1) he isn't actually sorry 2) how it makes Dean feel is not important to him or else he'd stop doing it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Keep secrets about bad things going on CONSTANTLY. Over and over and over and over… then Dean is still the one who ends up apologizing for getting mad about it. Rinse, repeat.

(Often) Refuse to be a team player in an effort to keep Sam and Dean out of harms way over the things he has personally decided are too dangerous for them, without ever letting them have a say, because he has unilaterally decided they are too tiny and soft and he needs to fall on a sword when no one asked him to and no one WANTS HIM TO. A lot of people want to turn this into bemoaning Castiel's constant unappreciated sacrifices, but this is so unbelievably shortsighted of a take. He is attempting to relate to Dean, a person who believes he is poison and that loving him gets people killed, by attempting to fucking martyr himself over and over and OVER. Dean doesn't WANT it, and it isn't NECESSARY 99% of the time if Cas would just WORK AS A TEAM.

Urges Dean to co-parent children who he feels he has personal obligations to twice.

Who does that remind you of? Because I know who it reminds me of, but people don’t want to read that meta—or about how Cas traded out his car for a truck (who else did that?), or about how your last words before a sacrifice can haunt a person and rip them open in ways you never intended. Of course Cas isn’t that guy… but I bet my ass Dean sure as hell sees the shades of him.. I do think it is an intentional decision to frame Cas in the late seasons after another person who also made Dean feel very unloved and unwanted—not in the big things like big grand sacrifices—but in the small things—the day to day things that slowly strangle a relationship to death—like making unilateral decisions for everyone and not answering the goddamn phone. (Edit here: I do NOT mean that Cas is intentionally being framed as CRUEL and EVIL. I only mean that he is intentionally being paralleled with John. Dean and Sam are also paralleled with John in different ways at various points and it doesn't mean any of them are evil irredeemable villains. They just have some obvious hangups and the way this particular one for Cas ends up manifesting is probably pretty difficult for Dean and probably makes him think of John behaved and how it made him feel).

Dean didn’t react right when Cas said I love you in season 12? Well. That’s debatable. But going on the offensive first before the defensive: Cas only wants to say this on his deathbed when Dean has no chance to respond.

Dean, on the other hand, has expressed his care for Cas MULTIPLE TIMES. He didn't say the words, "I love you" (he doesn't even say that to SAM) but he said "We're family" "You're the closest thing I have to family—you're like a brother to me" and "I need you" and "I'm not leaving without you" and "Being with you today is the most I've laughed in years" and "I'd rather have you, cursed or not" and "It's a gift. You keep those. Let's work as a team. We're better together."

And what does Cas do after every single one of these expressions of Dean's love?

He L E A V E S!!!!

He fucking leaves, and Cas girls want to talk about Dean making a face? And cry that Dean makes Cas feel unloved? Forgive me if that makes me fucking CACKLE at the AUDACITY.

I think one thing people tend to do, is they frame everything as if Cas is oblivious to Dean loving him, but Dean has to know or SHOULD know how Cas feels about him. This is why we get rancid takes like "DeAn nEedS tO pUll hIS hEaD oUt of HiS asS". Oh shut up. Castiel canonically can SENSE DEAN'S LONGING. If Dean's head is up his ass, Castiel's is shoved so fucking far up his sphincter it's coming out of his mouth.

Yet still—Dean recognizes, in season 11, that Cas is struggling—that Cas feels down on himself and unloved (and I DO NOT think Cas BLAMES Dean for that at all—it takes a lot of willful ignorance about everything going on with his biological family to come to that conclusion) and Dean tries to FIX IT. He once again reiterates to Cas how much he cares about him—that he's family. He has NO IDEA that the words intended to make Cas feel better are going to send him down one of the most deranged spirals of unhinged decision-making ever (the Kelly shenanigans are WILD). I actually have a slightly different take on this, from the typical " it sent him off the deep end because he got 'brother-zoned'". I think it sent him off the deep end because it was the final *nail in the coffin in what Cas saw as a reversal of their relationship—where he isn't the guy who protects everyone anymore with his grace and his grand wings... that's Dean now, and Dean is saying that Cas, like Sam, is under his protection... and Castiel absolutely could not STAND that. He didn't need his romantic affections to be returned. What he wanted, more than anything—what he saw (in a rough draft of the script) when Jack showed him paradise, was Dean thanking him, and his powers returned to their former glory. Because Cas has unilaterally decided Dean's feelings, he chooses to love him like a saint, laying down his life, instead of being in a partnership, because he doesn't want to be someone Dean protects—not even in a partnership where they protect each other. He wants to be the sole protector.

All of that to say: Cas didn't learn how to feel unloved from Dean. TEXTUALLY. It is ON THE TIN. Saying that is literally the EXACT OPPOSITE of what Cas SAYS about Dean. He says he cared about the whole world because of DEAN. He cared because Dean's love was so captivatingly beautiful and inspiring and transcendent that it changed who Cas was inside to the core, and he fell fucking head over heels. "You changed me".

[marley-manson]

Hi :3 May I please request Star Trek and/or Doctor Who (whatever you prefer!) for that fandom ask game? :D

Thank you 💖 Gonna do both lol

Star Trek TOS:

my favorite female character

Few options but it's Uhura. Love the occasional moments she gets to shine <3

my favorite male character

McCoy! I love how emotion driven he is, I love how grumpy he is, love how brave he can be, love how dedicated to being a doctor he is, love his bickering with Spock and his scolding of Kirk all the time, he's just very loveable to me.

my favorite book/season/etc

I thiiiink I slightly prefer season 1, but seasons 1 and 2 are pretty equally matched.

my favorite episode (if its a tv show)

A Piece of the Action lol.

my favorite cast member

Honestly I'll never have an answer to this unless I did have an actual fandom-y interest in one of the actors, and I didn't for Trek.

my favorite ship

Spock/McCoy. I enjoy all the K/S subtext and vibes when I watch the show, but I'm way more interested in Spock/McCoy because they're just more fun and a more interesting dynamic. They're the ideal kind of ship to put into situations. Accidental marriage, only one bed, fake dating, sex pollen, every fanfic trope is more fun with Spock/McCoy.

a character I’d die defending

McCoy!!! Yes he's mean to Spock sometimes but have you considered that Spock is also mean to McCoy sometimes? Check and mate.

a character I just can’t sympathize with

Hmm, there's that one asshole captain in Doomsday that I wanted to strangle. Oh also the dude who created the nazi planet lol.

a character I grew to love

Idk, I didn't dislike any characters at the start. I guess McCoy grew into being my favourite over the course of the first season.

my anti otp

Spock/Uhura I guess. That man is gay, please stop putting him in het.

Doctor Who:

my favorite female character

Rose Tyler! I fell in love with her at first sight and continued to love her for the rest of her run and after.

my favorite male character

Ten. Nine is better written in terms of like... thematic coherency, but I fucking love Ten's downward spiral lol. I love to see the hero of a legacy family show try to kill himself 10 times, ruin his friends lives, decide to sacrifice the earth so he doesn't have to kill the absolutely abhorrent villain he's pathetically in love with, be jealous of his human clone who gets to peace the fuck out and live a relatively normal life, mope over genociding the time lords for 4 seasons only to genocide them again because it turns out he also did it on purpose the first time for good reason, and then die miserably.

That's my kind of entertainment. It would've been a little better if RTD had fully committed to Ten as responsible for all his own problems in the vein of Casanova which was clearly a trial run for Ten's arc, but I can understand why he probably felt he couldn't quite go that far since he is the hero of a legacy show RTD was trying to repopularize.

my favorite book/season/etc

Season 3. I think season 1 is the best written followed by season 2, but 3 is Peak Ten at his miserable suicidal asshole low. Genuinely love his toxic dynamic with Martha and how it led to her walking out on him with her head held high.

my favorite episode (if its a tv show)

Midnight.

my favorite cast member

I do finally have an answer and it's David Tennant because I did have a Tennant phase lol. Watched some of his other stuff, fangirled a little, good times.

my favorite ship

Despite what it seems I am actually answering this for Doctor Who as a whole and not just RTD's first run, so Three/Delgado is the answer. Followed by Ten/Simm and Ten II/Rose.

a character I’d die defending

It'll be a cold day in hell before I get involved in Doctor Who wank lol. It is by a wide margin the worst fandom I've ever been in for infighting, and I want no part of that. I will never defend a Doctor Who character, I will run away as fast as I can.

a character I just can’t sympathize with

If I watched more than 5 episodes of his run I'm sure I could easily answer this with a Moffat era character, but as is... I'm gonna say the time lords as a whole. Like not every time lord, and maybe I'd feel differently if I ever listened to the Gallifrey audios lol, but given that their society is a parody/satire of Britain, Rassilon is always a villain, and it was entirely in character for them to decide to destroy the entire universe to become gods or whatever... yeah fuck em. Hope the Doctor blows up Gallifrey again someday.

a character I grew to love

I feel like every character I love was love at first sight. I guess... Sam from the Eight books? I did find her a little annoying at first, but I really liked her in some of her later books, like Seeing I.

Ooh actually I should also mention Mickey, I love his arc.

my anti otp

Doctor/~*~*~Missy~*~*~ in that they literally took my otp and turned it into everything I hate in a shockingly gender essentialist package. Granted I've only watched the first two parter with Gomez but nothing I've heard about the rest has made me think it might change my mind. More the opposite.

ask meme

[bugstinytalks]

So I’ve been getting into journey to the west (Jttw) since I really enjoy the Lego Monkie kid series, and I noticed two things about the character the six eared macaque.

1 - some people said him and Sun Wukong were brothers. As far as I can tell there not at least not in Jttw, and in Monkie kid there sworn brothers.

2 - Macaque is not in the original Jttw as frequently as I expected, in fact he was there for only a brief time before getting killed. But there is a possibility he is the Macaque King (one of the seven fraternal sages) an ally Sun Wukong made early in the story.

In Lego Monkie kid Im pretty sure the seven fraternal sages are are Wukongs sworn brothers, since Demon bull king (DBK) is one of the seven fraternal brothers. I was wondering why in jttw it didn’t connect the macaque king and the six eared macaque and there are two options. 1 there different characters or 2 that it’s an inconsistency, the second options fairly likely since there are quite a few instances in jttw where if you think to hard the story doesn’t make sense.

Anyway Jttw is a fun read and if your looking for an easier way to absorb some of jttw, I’d suggest checking out an overly Saracastic production’s videos on YouTube.

[rainmustfallts4]

House of Lost Souls ◇ Day 2, Monday

⊶⊰Information⊱⊷ ⊶⊰From the Beginning⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Latest⊱⊷ ⊶⊰Index⊱⊷

———————-⊶⊰*⊱⊷———————-

“Hey, kid, how are you holding up?” Alex settled down beside me, offering me a friendly wave.

“Oh, um…” I scratched the side of my cheek as I glanced around the room at the other patients. “I’m… not too sure, actually…”

“It can be pretty overwhelming here at first.” She shook her head, leaning back in the chair. “These guys aren’t exactly easy to get along with, but they’re not so bad, you know.”

“I believe you. I’m just… not very good with people…”

“Oh, you’re one of those types, huh? Don’t worry, most of us keep to ourselves. So long as you don’t mess with them, they won’t mess with you. However -” She paused, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “If I were you, I’d avoid Blake.”

“Oh, um, okay!” Maybe I should have asked why, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

She pulled herself to her feet and, for a moment, she just observed me. “You want a hug?”

I was surprised by the question and I wanted to say no but… something held me back. I wasn’t fond of human contact, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need the comfort. I guess she realized this because she smiled, pulling me up and into her arms.

She was much bigger and stronger than myself, her arms warm and comforting. I hesitantly put my arms around her.

“Thank you…”

“‘Course. If anyone messes with you, let me know and I’ll beat their ass!”

My talk with Alex made me feel better, lighter even. I was grateful to her for reaching out to me, and I kept it with me for the rest of the day. It gave me motivation to get out and actually do something productive.

I started out by taking care of the garden.

Then I worked on Yoga. It was getting easier to get into and maintain the poses. I actually felt quite proud of myself!

Dominic was nearby, using the telescope to gaze up at the sky. Suddenly, he let out a loud scream, nearly making me fall over. When I glanced over at him, he turned to run inside, screaming something about a meteor coming to kill him.

I blinked dumbly, watching as he made his way back inside. I glanced at the sky, seeing nothing. I even checked the telescope and still saw nothing. Had he imagined it? Or did he see something that just looked like a meteor?

With a sigh, I put my fingers through the chain-link fence, resting my forehead against the cool metal. The area near me is so pretty… it’s a shame I can’t actually enjoy it.

Shaking my head, I returned to yoga, trying to clear my head. The sooner I complete these tasks, the sooner I can get out of here!

After a few hours, I could finally tick off the first objective on the list. I’m making progress!

When I stepped into the bathroom, I stepped into a large puddle. As I often do, I assumed the worst, a look of disgust on my face. Then I realized it was just the sink – it was broken, sending water flying everywhere.

The shower was broken, too.

I frowned at Alexia who was washing her hands at the unbroken sink. “Um, should we tell someone about this…?”

She quirked a brow at me and I motioned toward the sink. Realization came upon her face, as if she hadn’t noticed it before that moment. “There’s no point. If that witch even takes thirty seconds to hear you out, it’ll go in one ear and out the other!”

“What do we do, then?”

“There’s a yearly maintenance check. It’s mandatory or the place gets shut down, so the witch won’t say no.”

“And when is that?”

She tapped her chin, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I think he came at the beginning of the year, so… maybe four months?” She shrugged again, patting me on the shoulder before leaving the bathroom.

I frowned at the broken sink. How can they do this? How can they let them live like this? This feels more like a prison…

I tried to clean up a little in the bathroom, but it was pointless with the sink broken so I just headed back outside to enjoy the weather.

It was so much nicer than the stuffy, mildewy air inside. Alex was playing basketball, easily beating everyone else on the court.

Despite her big size, she moved gracefully, dodging the others when they tried to tackle her. I guess Dwayne forgot they were playing basketball and not football…

My first day here, a woman came and made us lunch. The BLTs were excellent! I quickly learned that it was a one-time thing. More specifically, Rhys explained that she only comes once every three months just to ensure everyone is still alive. I was just lucky enough to arrive on the same day as her.

Other than that, we are forced to have cheap yogurt, cereal without milk, or granola from a cheap cooler that doesn’t even make the food cold. The yogurt was greek yogurt so it was gross, the cereal was hard enough to break your teeth, and the granola tasted like cardboard. No, actually I think cardboard would be nicer.

I know Alex told me to stay away from him, but… it felt rude to just ignore him when he started talking to me. He seemed nice, anyway.

“Hey, kid. How’re you settling in?”

“Oh, uh… it’s a big change…”

He grinned and I couldn’t help but notice how sharp his teeth looked. “For sure. Took me a while to adjust. You never really get used to it, you just kinda… stop caring.”

“That sounds really sad…”

He shrugged. “What’re you gonna do? We’re all trapped here.”

“But… if you complete your assigned tasks, don’t we get out?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t ya?” he grinned again, but it seemed forced. “Look, I don’t want to take away your hope, but… don’t work yourself too hard, kid.”

“What do you mean?”

He chose not to answer, leaving me with more questions that I liked.

“Blake, you bitchy little leech!” Dwayne slammed the door open, looking pissed as he stomped inside the rec room.

I jumped in surprise, wide eyes looking over at him. Is he… glowing? I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I was hallucinating, but the glow didn’t disappear.

Blake rolled his eyes. “Stop barking like a little bitch, you’re scaring the kid.”

“Don’t act as if you actually care about someone other than yourself!” he growled back, eyes flashing with rage.

I swallowed hard, starting to feel very anxious as the two continued to argue, getting into each other’s faces. I was afraid they would start fighting and I wanted to be nowhere near them when they did!

I quickly escaped the room, my heart pounding inside my chest.

“Calm down,” I told myself softly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

A couple of meditation seats had been placed in the hallway outside of the bedrooms. I have never used one before and had only meditated once when I was a child – and that’s only because my favorite cartoon character did it. To my surprise, it did help calm me down.

Once calm, I headed outside to check on the garden. The honey was ready to harvest and it looked quite good, but I knew I needed to put it in the collection box. Funds for the asylum are far more important than honey for my own stomach.

I decided to try my hand at flower arranging. Bitches love flowers, so I figured it would be a good way to make money.

While doing so, the outside grill caught on fire! I didn’t even know we had a grill… Thankfully Alex, Dwayne, and Dominic were on top of it. They put the fire out quickly, but the grill was toast.

The nerves I had worked so hard to calm were a bit frayed again because of the fire, so I headed back into the rec room. Only Junior was inside, working on a cross-stitch pattern. Beside the couch sat a basket of knitting supplies. I had always wanted to try knitting, I just never got around to doing so.

“Excuse me… can I sit with you…?”

Junior glanced up at me and nodded. “Sure.” His voice was… strange. I’m not sure how quite to describe it, but it seemed to… echo, I guess?

Shaking my head, I grabbed some knitting needles before settling down beside him. Together, we worked in silence to create something. It wasn’t an awkward silence like I’m used to, instead, it was a comfortable one.

After a few minutes of silence, Junior suddenly exclaimed, “Hey, look at this! Isn’t it cute?”

I glanced over to see the progress he had made. “Oh my grim, that’s adorable! It’s Yamachan, right?”

He nodded, offering me a grin. “Yamachan is my favorite character. I grew up admiring him! My dream is to one day meet him.”

“I hope you get the chance to…”

“Me too.”

Junior went to bed shortly after that, leaving me alone in the rec room. I continued to work on my knitting for a while until I started to grow tired myself. Just as I got up to leave, Blake entered the room.

I offered him a friendly, awkward smile before attempting to move past him but he blocked the way. I looked at him with confusion, realizing that he looked as if he were in pain.

“I’m really sorry about this, kid.”

“What are you -“

He held his hands up, a green energy emitting from them and shooting toward me. In an instance, my body felt numb. I was still aware of my surroundings, but I couldn’t move! I tried to speak, but my voice failed me. What’s happening to me?

“I’m sorry…” he repeated against as he reached for me, tilting my head to the side. My heart raced with confusion and fear, then I felt something sharp against the side of my neck.

A gasp escaped my lips, realization flooding me. He’s a vampire!

After what felt like an hour of him drinking my plasma, he finally pulled back, releasing a satisfied sigh. “It’s been ages since I got a drink! My, your plasma is just lovely.”

I still couldn’t speak or move. My body felt heavy and, despite how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. One second I was struggling to stay away and the next, I was out cold.

I don’t know how long I was out for, but I awoke to the beautiful melody of a guitar. To my surprise, the one playing was Blake. I pretended to still be asleep as soon as I saw him, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

He continued to play for a while before finally sighing, putting the guitar down, and leaving the room. I didn’t move, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall. Even after it went quiet, I stayed still, scared he would come back.

Finally, after what felt like hours, I slowly pushed myself up. My arms trembled, my body heavy and weak. So this is what it feels like to be drank from… It certainly wasn’t a good feeling and I didn’t want to experience it again. I started to feel dizzy so I sat down at the desk.

I was scared to go out of the rec room, scared I would run into him again and I knew I didn’t have the energy to run from him. I took out my journal and began to jot down what had happened, my hand trembling as I did so. This made my handwriting messy and a bit difficult to read. It’s not like anyone is ever gonna see it, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

The more I wrote, the more my emotions came bubbling up to the surface. I just felt so damn overwhelmed and alone. I wanted to go home, to see my dad!

My dad… he probably hates me. That filthy woman has gotten her claws far too deep into him. I never thought I’d see the day he chose a woman over me, but… I guess I brought this on myself. I haven’t exactly been the best child. Actually, I’ve been a pretty terrible child. Most parents just want their kids to grow up well and then move out on their own at 18.

I overstayed my welcome and ruined his life by doing so.

I cried for a while, covering my mouth so my sobs weren’t too loud. I didn’t want to explain to anyone how I was feeling. It felt too private and I didn’t want to be a burden. Everyone here has their own problems to deal with, I doubt they care about my own.

I wiped away my tears with my shirt, annoyed that my glasses were now fogged up from them. Surely enough time has passed, right? I was careful as I stepped out into the hall, biting my lip every time my shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor. The asylum was quiet, most of the other residents asleep or locked away in their rooms.

I held my breath when I passed by Blake’s room before nearly jogging toward my own. Thankfully, these doors have locks on them! I locked it tight, putting the chair up against the handle just to be safe.

I felt so exhausted, drained both emotionally and physically, that I fell asleep before I could even get into bed properly.

[sergeantsporks]

Gilded Family

Rating: Teen and Up, Gen

Ch 29/?: Infection

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6 , Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17,  Ch 18, Ch 19, Ch 20, Ch 21, Ch 22, Ch 23, Ch 24, Ch 25, Ch 26, Ch 27, Ch 28

In which none of the previous golden guards or wittebro died, actually, they're all fine and living happily together as one big dysfunctional family

Ao3

“Sa-am,” Evelyn sang, sweeping into the lab. Phoenix followed in her wake, ducking behind her to stay out of Petro’s glare radius.

Sam set down a rat with a glyph attached to it that scampered away immediately. “Hello, Mother Dearest. What is it that you need?”

“I didn’t say that I needed something.”

“You get musical when you’re going to ask me for something. What is it?”

“Mm. Yes.” Evelyn nodded a couple of times. “Now that you mention it. I could use a transportation glyph, please and thank you. Also perhaps you could come with us so that we can get back, and because my magic is a wee bit depleted from the barrier?”

“Ah. Just give me a—” Sam reached down, patted the table where the rat had been, and cursed. “Never mind. Give me a now. May I ask where it is that we’re headed?”

Evelyn glanced at Petro. “Not in front of him.”

“Who am I going to tell, Mummy Beloved?” Petro sighed, tilting his chair back on its legs, “I am to be left alone, without a single soul to talk t—” His chair tilted back too far and he crashed backwards. “Hm.”

“Good,” Evelyn said sharply, “It’ll give you time alone to think about what you’ve done.”

She stalked back out, Sam scurrying behind her. Phoenix turned to go, but Petro cleared his throat. “Little bird, I’ve got a favor to ask. I know you don’t trust me, and you have no reason to, but this is very important to me, so please at least consider my request.”

Despite every warning bell ringing in his head, Phoenix stayed. “What?”

Petro’s face split into a grin. “Bring me back a souvenir?”

Phoenix sighed, and he picked up Petro’s chair, setting him upright and checking to make sure his bonds hadn’t been loosened in the fall. “You know, when I was in your memories, I heard someone singing a lullaby. I don’t know who they were, but do you think they’d be proud of who you are now?”

Petro’s eyebrows went down in an angry v, and all the spiteful humor on his face gave way to rage. He lunged forward against his bonds, snapping his teeth at Phoenix, who jumped backwards to dodge the attack.

“That’s none of your business,” he snarled, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, so just shut up!”

Phoenix backed out of the room, shutting the door on a growling, slavering Petro. He thought he’d seen the worst of Petro, but the hot hate in Petro’s eyes had been far deeper than before, even worse than when Petro had tried to kill him. Whoever could make Petro snap like that would have to wait, though. Evelyn and Sam were already outside, drawing in the dirt.

Before Phoenix could reach the door, Mole slid in front, crossing his arms. He held out a leaf to Phoenix, stained with green mud he must have found on the garden fence.

Phoenix hissed in. “It’s—I’m going to tell them Mole, I just…”

Mole shook his head, taking Phoenix’s arm and tugging him back further into the house.

Phoenix gingerly extracted himself from Mole’s grip. “I can’t. I can’t make them stop to deal with this, not when we’re so close. It’ll take too much time.”

Mole sighed, chewing on his lip and looking at the door, and Evelyn, and then back to Phoenix.

Phoenix crouched slightly so that he was on Mole’s eye level. “I’ll tell them when we get back. I’ll play it safe. No unnecessary risks. I promise.”

Mole threw his hands up in the air and stormed away, shutting his room door harder than necessary, but not hard enough for it to slam. Phoenix sighed.

I guess I’d be pretty mad at him if he was sick and wouldn’t tell anyone.

At least he could be sure that Mole wouldn’t tell anyone.

Phoenix joined the others outside just as Evelyn snatched the arm of a passing adult. “Marcus. I’m going out. You’re in charge of the barrier while I’m gone. It should just be a few hours, then I’ll take over again. If you think your magic is starting to fade, ask Aurelia to use hers.”

Marcus nodded, and the glow around the fence took on a different hue; still blue, but a more greenish blue than Evelyn’s magic.

Sam finished his glyph and dusted his hands off. “All set! Where is it we’re off to?”

“The head.”

Sam coughed. “The head. You mean where the Collector is? You mean that place that’s crawling with their spies? That place Phoenix barely got out of alive? That head?”

“That’s the one. I know it’s not exactly a vacation, but that’s where the last Grimwalker is, so that’s where we need to go.”

“Oh boy. Does Dad know?”

Evelyn glowered. “I don’t need your father’s permission.”

Sam held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t say you did! It just seems like. Maybe. Perhaps. Going on a very dangerous rescue mission to a very dangerous place. Might be the sort of thing we discuss with the whole family? Instead of rushing off half-baked? At the very least, we should have Auric on standby?”

Evelyn paced back and forth. “We don’t have time for a lengthy family debate over the risks! Every second they spend up there is another second that the Collector might find them, or worse, kill them without realizing!”

“Okay, okay!” Sam hissed in. “Sorry, one last thing… no offense, Phoenix, but are you sure you’re up for this?”

Phoenix shoved his hands back in his pockets. “I’ll be fine. The situation’s not ideal, but it’s never going to be.”

“Sam,” Evelyn pleaded, “I’d do this on my own, but my magic is shot. Phoenix is the one who figured out where they are, so we need him there to guide us. We need to get in and out quickly, and only you can help us do that. Are you going to take us there?”

Sam’s mouth set in a firm line. “Well. I’ve already got the glyph drawn. Why not? All aboard that are coming aboard.”

Sam and Evelyn stepped into the circle, and Sam tapped the glyph. Golden light rushed around Phoenix, and when it faded, he faced a familiar archway, glowing eerily in the light cast by the Archive House hovering thousands of feet over them.

Phoenix’s heart pounded in his chest, and he gingerly touched the shattered remains of the portal door.

Are you there, Jason?

Are you still safe?

Evelyn opened her bag, passing out concealment stones. Phoenix saw potion bottles hidden deep in her bag, clinking gently together with her movement, but she quickly buckled the bag back up, hiding them from sight. Phoenix slipped the concealment stone over his head, and the magic drew lines around his joints. His clothes popped in the darkness, now more colorful and flowy, like a puppet’s.

“Where next, Phoenix?”

Phoenix peered out of the decimated lab, and immediately stepped back, head spinning. Outside, the ground gave way to a straight drop into unending darkness, the bridge long gone. “Down there.”

“Eugh.” Sam pulled out a notepad, drawing three new glyphs. “Feather-fall,” he explained, handing them out, “I don’t think taking the stairs is an option anymore.”

Evelyn immediately jumped over the edge of the precipice. Sam grabbed Phoenix’s arm. “Hey.”

“Hey?”

Sam nodded towards the edge. “Mom’s… not in the most logical headspace right now. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. Once we find wherever he kept us stored, I’m going to hang back and start the return glyph.” Sam glanced up at the sky. “Being this close to the archive house gives me the creeps. I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Phoenix shuffled closer to the edge of the drop, but didn’t jump. “You’re not hanging back to try and catch a puppet, are you?”

“Well, I wasn’t, but I’m thinking about it now.” Sam gave him a little push. “Just help me keep her safe. Go!”

Phoenix took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and jumped before he could think too hard about it. He clutched the feather-fall glyph close to his chest, opening his eyes and activating it just before hitting the ground. He staggered forward, and Evelyn gripped his forearms to keep him steady.

“Easy, Phoenix. You’re alright.”

Sam tapped down gently next to them, landing as gracefully as a fairy. He held a small light glyph in one hand, gently illuminating the skull around them. “Oog. I did not miss this place.” His voice echoed in the cavern, and he kicked at something glimmering on the ground. “He never cleaned up down here, did he?”

Phoenix recognized the object Sam had kicked, and his stomach churned. Golden masks littered the ground, some accompanied by bloodstained scraps of white fabric, others by a spaulder or a torn-up breastplate.

Evelyn’s hold on Phoenix tightened. “We were this close the whole time?!”

“What is this place?” Phoenix asked. He could guess, and something pressed at the corners of his mind, a sense of familiarity, but the others seemed much more familiar with it.

“Uncle Pip’s dumping ground,” Sam grumbled “He dropped a lot of us down here once he was done with us.”

“It was always the first place Caleb and I checked,” Evelyn whispered, picking up the mask Sam had kicked. “We’d try to catch you before you hit the bottom—like poor Alex did. Not everyone ended up here, but…” She turned the mask over in her hands. “This is where we found you, Phoenix.”

Memories of both being dragged across the bridge and dragging bodies himself warred for dominance in Phoenix’s mind—not that he’d ever thought about or remembered this place before today. The memory of Belos pushing his lifeless body over the edge was faint, barely more than a feeling of déjà vu overshadowed by the pain of his injuries, but watching himself fall, while clearer… didn’t even feel important or worth thinking about.

Which was almost worse.

Evelyn shook her head, tucking the mask into her bag. “If where he made you is really just a few feet away… that’s just twisted.”

“Not to mention ridiculous,” Sam added, “What did he think happened to the bodies when he came down here to get a new kid? Did he think Grimwalker bodies just disintegrate? Okay, wait, actually, if Dad rescued all of us, then he never had a corpse for long. He probably did think that. Fascinating, he had a completely warped understanding of decomposition because of us. I would love to pick apart his brain if he were still alive.”

“Yes, incredibly interesting,” Evelyn agreed impatiently, “Phoenix?”

Phoenix took a deep breath. Okay. Which way?

He started to walk, letting his feet pick the direction without any thought. He passed a few more masks, gleaming dully in the dim light from Sam’s light glyph. Finally, a cave yawned out at them from the darkness, and Phoenix stopped.

“There,” he whispered.

Evelyn’s hand found his in the darkness. “Let’s bring them home,” she whispered.

Sam drew more light glyphs, wafting them into the room. Phoenix stared at three vats filled to the brim with dirt, the fingers on his free hand twitching and clawing as if he were buried and needed to dig his way out. Tubes fed into the dirt, and Phoenix knew in the back of his head that they should be filled with glowing green liquid. But the whole room felt… lopsided, somehow, and whatever the tubes had been hooked to before, they now lay disconnected on the ground.

A small hand stuck out of one stone vat, and Phoenix pointed with a squeak. Evelyn pulled him to it, but neither of them made any move to dig it up.

“Are they still alive?” Phoenix gingerly reached out—the hand wouldn’t even be the length of his pinkie finger when stretched out.

The moment his finger brushed the tiny fingers, they twitched and tightened, curling around his index finger. Evelyn gasped and immediately started to dig, shoveling away great handfuls of dirt. Phoenix joined her, his free hand digging around the grimwalker’s arm with practiced movements, as if he’d been doing this his whole life, even though some part of him said that he’d only ever watched, and another part of him whispered that he’d only ever dug from the opposite side.

A small face started to appear in the soil, chubby with baby fat and smeared with dirt. Evelyn seized a heavy white cloak hanging on a peg, wrapping the little grimwalker up. They weren’t quite an infant—if Phoenix had to guess, they were a year or two old.

Evelyn gently brushed dirt off of the sleeping grimwalker’s face. “Hey, little guy,” she said softly, “I know a bunch of people who are going to be so happy to meet you. And we’re going to take good care of you.” She gently kissed the top of the grimwalker’s head, then handed them to Phoenix. “Here—can you hold them for a moment? Mind their head, I think they’re big enough that it shouldn’t be too floppy but it’s been… a while.”

“Ack—” Phoenix held the baby like it might explode, cradling their head in one hand. “Um—Evelyn, I don’t know if I should—I’ve never held a—what if I drop—”

“You’ll be fine,” she said briskly, “You won’t hurt them.” She reached into her bag, pulling out potion bottles and holding them between her fingers. “Go wait outside with Sam.”

“Why? What are those? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to burn this miserable hole down to the ground so that no one can ever use it again,” Evelyn growled, “Go.”

Her magic gently pushed Phoenix out of the cave, and she threw the first potion, destroying one of the stone vats with an almighty boom and a crack of splitting stone.

“Yep,” Sam said in a resigned voice, “That’s what I was afraid of. Well! As long as she’s being safe about it! We’re far enough down that the Collector won’t notice. I think.”

The grimwalker in Phoenix’s arms squirmed, reaching up towards his face and batting at his nose. “Mrgh?” they gurgled.

“Ohhhhhhhhh boy—” Phoenix bounced the baby up and down the way he’d seen caretakers at the orphanage do. “Okay, go back to sleep, go back to—”

Another boom, and this time, the machine in the corner exploded, sending shards outwards. Phoenix’s arms started to ache, and although the flickering of the explosions made every rock and shadow seem strange and eerie, he could clearly see that the blackish green veins had reached his fingertips and were starting to web outwards, turning his nails black.

Crack

Phoenix shook his head back and forth as if that would dislodge the feeling of something slithering under his skin, making his arms itch and crawl and… bubble.

“Phoenix?” Sam asked, “Are you okay?”

“She needs to stop,” Phoenix whispered, “She needs to stop destroying it, she needs to—” He deposited the grimwalker baby in Sam’s arms before he could drop them, his arms trembling uncontrollably. The baby frowned, reaching towards Phoenix with little grabby hands.

“It took so long, she can’t…” Phoenix pressed his arms against his stomach, doubling over. “Stop it. Stop it, stop it—”

“Mooooooooooooom? We need to leave!” Sam yelled somewhere in the distance, “Something’s wrong with Phoenix—”

“Just a little bit more,” Evelyn called back, “I’m almost done—”

“Stop,” Phoenix rasped. His arms didn’t just itch anymore, they burned, shifting and tearing and breaking and reforming over and over and over.

“Mom!” Sam yelped, “Forget the cave! You’ve done enough! We need to go now!

Golden light rushed around Phoenix, and something inside of him whispered to take it, to consume it, to dig his claws (what claws, he’d never had claws) into the light and seize it for his own.

The light faded on its own, turning to red trees, and Phoenix’s legs wobbled.

Evelyn reached out to catch his arms, but yanked her hands away at the last second, her mouth dropping open in horror. Phoenix fell to his knees, too sluggish to break his fall with his hands, and crashed forward on his forearms. His arms showed no sign of flesh or skin, just oozing, pulsing mud that shifted and swirled, revealing white bone and covering it up just as quickly.

“What—is—happening—” Phoenix groaned.

Evelyn grabbed Sam’s collar, hauling him and the baby grimwalker backwards away from Phoenix and shoving him towards the house. “Get your father. Now.”

Sam scrambled away, calling for help. Evelyn approached Phoenix slowly, holding her hands up.  “Hey—stick with me. When did it start getting worse?”

Phoenix touched his forehead to the ground as the mud ate at his upper arm, slinking towards his shoulders. “Hnnnngh—”

“Okay, okay, let me just—” Her hand touched his shoulder lightly, then flicked down to the mud. She immediately drew back with a yelp, shaking her hand, and eyed his arms with a mixture of horror, worry, and… disgust. “It’s like…”

“Belos,” Phoenix grated out. He pushed up to his feet, blinking back stars from his vision. “It’s like Belos, it’s—”

His curse

The attacks

Is that going to happen to me?!

“Phoenix—” Evelyn started, but Phoenix was already backing away from her.

“Stay back—I don’t want to hurt you.”

She faltered, her face heartbroken. But she didn’t chase him when he ran, stumbling through the forest. He had to get as far away from the house as he could before this lashed out—it had already hurt Evelyn, he couldn’t let it attack anyone else.

Phoenix’s arm brushed against a tree, and a jolt of pain rushed up his spine as a low branch pushed right through the mud, touching bone. He stumbled to the side with a howl, clutching his arms close to his chest.

A solitary raindrop dripped from the sky, tracing down his cheek.

Rain had never bothered Phoenix before. It had never scalded him the way it did normal witches. But now the boiling water hissed into his arms, dragging tracks in his arms and dripping muddy water from his fingertips.

And it burned.

Phoenix ran, this time looking for shelter from the rain, any shelter. He tripped, skidding down a sharp bank, and finally crawled under a fallen tree that created a small hollow. He curled into a ball, pressing his arms tightly against himself to keep them from exploding outwards. The mud had stopped trying to crawl further up his arms, leaving burns behind. It didn’t… settle, exactly. It just swirled more sluggishly, crawling and migrating around his lower arms.

Phoenix scooted further back into his hollow to stay away from the rain. At least Caleb and Evelyn couldn’t come looking for him in this weather—and he doubted they’d ask a grimwalker to find him when he looked like their worst nightmare.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered out loud. Every memory he had of Belos lashing out (and a few that he didn’t remember himself) with his curse played through his mind. He’d always consumed a palisman’s magic right after, but the thought made Phoenix sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do that. Not knowing how Hunter felt about his palisman, not knowing what loyal creatures they were.

What had he been expecting with this infection? That it would just make his arms ache? That his wounds would just keep spitting out cursed mud forever? That he could see some of Belos’ memories when it was convenient and not face any other consequences? Of course there was a price. There was always a price, always some exchange for any information or benefit when it came to Belos.

The rain slowed, but didn’t stop, still trickling down and making the air into a steamy fog. Phoenix’s stomach rumbled. Right. He hadn’t actually stopped to have breakfast this morning, and it was probably well past noon by now.

Had Belos ever eaten anything? Could he? Would Phoenix be able to stomach food now? Or would he be forced to eat a palisman or starve at some point?

A branch snapped, and Phoenix’s head snapped up, his ears twitching to locate the sound. He didn’t call out—anything that could be out in a rainstorm was bound to be a predator looking for its next meal.

Maybe it would be better for something to just eat me now before this gets worse and I hurt someone, he thought bleakly. Tears of exhaustion and pain blurred Phoenix’s vision, but he blinked them back, not letting them fall. I’m sorry, Darius. Jason. Hunter. I can’t…

“Phoenix?” Caleb’s voice called, “Phoooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeniiiiiiiiiiiiiiix! Are you out here?”

The ortet emerged from the steam, holding an umbrella over his head. Even with the barrier between him and the rain, tiny pockmark burns dotted his arms and face, and his clothing steamed. A pang of guilt tore at Phoenix—he’d come looking, even in the rain, and he’d gotten hurt.

“Go away,” Phoenix choked, “Just… go home.”

“Are you coming with me?”

Was he crazy?! “I can’t.”

Caleb shrugged. “Then I’m not going home either.”

He took another step closer, and Phoenix curled further into the hollow. “Stay back!”

Caleb halted in his tracks, holding his hands up as best he could while still gripping the umbrella. “Hey—it’s okay,” he shushed, edging closer, “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay.”

“No—stay away—I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Then don’t,” Caleb said simply, taking another slow, steady step towards him.

Phoenix shook his head. How could he not understand?! He’d seen Belos, he’d fought Belos; why was he still coming closer, knowing what might happen?! “I don’t want to—but the curse, Belos’ attacks—”

“Oh,” Caleb sighed, “I see.” He reached the hollow, ducking inside and kneeling next to Phoenix. Phoenix’s heart thudded in his chest, and he pulled his arms even closer to himself, keeping them away from Caleb.

“You should run before… before…”

Caleb cupped Phoenix’s face in his hands, his thumb wiping away a streak of dirt. “Hey. Listen to me. Phillip didn’t hurt people because of the curse.” He shook his head. “Phillip hurt people because he wanted to. And Phoenix…” Caleb smiled gently, brushing Phoenix’s hair out of his face. “I’m not scared of you.”

A sob burst out of Phoenix’s throat, and he fell forward, burying his face in Caleb’s shoulder. Caleb wrapped his arms around Phoenix without hesitation, one hand cradling his head and the other resting on his back. Phoenix clutched him like a lifeline—his hands had turned to claws, so he stretched his fingers out flat to keep from tearing Caleb’s skin.

“I don’t—want to end up—like him—” he cried, tears still pouring from his eyes, “I don’t want to—” Every lie and trick, every harsh word, everything he’d done wrong in the last month pounded against his head, screaming that it was already too late, and this was just his body finally showing what he really was.

“You won’t,” Caleb said fiercely, “I won’t let that happen. I promise, you won’t turn into him. I promise, I promise, I promise.”

“It’s already started,” Phoenix stammered, “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hidden it, but I’m seeing his memories, and—and getting upset over things he’d get upset over that I shouldn’t be getting upset over. And I lied to you and Evelyn about my arms, and I lied to the Collector to trick him into letting us go, and I lied to King to get him to come with me, and… and now my arms-!”

The mud started to move again, dripping away from him, and Phoenix hid his face in Caleb’s shoulder rather than see the white bone and the oozing, burning mud. He heaved in a shaky breath. You’re acting like a child, a voice in his head scolded, but Caleb felt warm and solid, and he didn’t want to let go.

“Okay. Okay.” Caleb rubbed a slow circle on his back. “Okay. Hey—hey, I don’t know why this is happening, or you’re seeing his memories. I don’t. But they don’t make you him, not any more than Hunter is Belos because he went into Belos’ mind and saw his memories.”

“But the Collector. And King. The way I lied and tricked them…” Phoenix shuddered, his clawed hands clenching into fists and opening over and over. “I knew it was like him, I knew it was exactly something Belos would do. And I knew that the Collector had been tricked before. But I still… I still…”

“You were scared,” Caleb said gently, “You were facing something much more powerful than you, and the only way out was to use your head. Lying isn’t always the wrong thing to do, Phoenix. Sometimes you have to lie, to protect yourself and the people you love.”

“And how do you know Belos wasn’t just scared?” Phoenix challenged, “Maybe he thought he had to lie, too.”

Caleb heaved a deep sigh and slowly sat back on his heels, ending the hug. “Phillip was scared,” he admitted, “Phillip was scared of a lot of things. He was scared of dying. He was scared of losing me. But most of all, Phillip was scared of what he didn’t understand.”

“Then how?” Phoenix asked, his voice cracking, “If he lied because he was scared too, then how is it any different?”

Caleb went very still and stayed a little bit too quiet for just a little bit too long. Outside, the rain came to a stop, leaving just lingering wisps of steam. “I think,” Caleb said slowly, “that Phillip let his fear of what he didn’t understand turn into hatred.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly like he was admitting something to himself. “I encouraged him to turn it into hatred.” Caleb opened his eyes again, his shoulders hunching just ever-so-slightly, as if he were scared Phoenix would be angry at him. “I thought it was the right thing at the time, but…” he sighed. “That’s besides the point. Fear can help keep us safe. But not everything we don’t understand is out to get us. And that is something Phillip never learned. Something he didn’t want to learn.”

Phoenix tucked his arms in close again. “I… don’t understand.”

“Phillip chose to hate the things he didn’t understand instead of trying to find out more about them. And he went out of his way to keep doing so and to keep lying, and he kept on hating the unknown so badly that when the time came… he ended up causing one of his worst fears to come to pass rather than letting go of the fear that turned into hate.”

Caleb twisted his hands around each other. “I can’t say for sure where the line lies,” he said finally, “But I think perhaps Phillip crossed it when he sought out the unknown in order to destroy it, rather than just protecting himself when something harmful came his way. And most of all, I think he crossed that line when he was given obvious signs that he was hurting innocent people, and doing the wrong thing, and he chose to ignore them and keep going instead of changing.”

“How do you know I’m not doing the same thing?”

“Phoenix, would you lie to… King? Yes, King. Would you lie to King again?”

Phoenix shook his head dully. Even without knowing how King had reacted when he’d found out—he should have told him the whole truth from the beginning. Let him make his own decisions.

“And the Collector—”

“They’re not what everyone thinks,” Phoenix said in a rush, “They’re just a kid who wanted friends, and I was so desperate to get home that I ruined any chance I had, but if I hadn’t lied to him and tried to run, if I’d tried something else, anything else, I think I could have—I could have—” he stopped, eying Caleb. The ortet wore a small, knowing smile on his face. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”

“You took time to understand the Collector,” Caleb said gently.

“He’s still terrifying. Even more now that they probably hate me.”

“But…?”

“But not bad,” Phoenix admitted, “I don’t want to hurt them. And I don’t think I have to lie to them—I shouldn’t lie to him.”

“There you go. Still think you’re just like Belos?”

Phoenix held up his dripping arms. “But if I do start to…what if I start to act like him, and I don’t even realize?”

“You have me. And you have Evelyn. And you have all your siblings.” Caleb gave him a crooked grin. “I think we’re kind of experts on what Belos acts like. If you’re really worried… just trust us. We’re not perfect. And we make mistakes. But we’ll help you the best we can.”

He stood up, offering Phoenix a hand. “They’re all worried about you. Let’s go home?”

Phoenix reached up to take his hand, but before he did, he heard a rustle and a snap, and the hiss of magic. A glowing net shot out of the bushes, slamming into Phoenix.

“Got it!” a voice cheered from the bush. Two familiar masks and white cloaks popped up, dirty and dented, but still undeniably coven scouts. “Urgh, what is that thing?! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

Phoenix tore at the net, his throat closing up and his breath seizing in his chest. “Get it off—get it off, get it—”

“Stay calm—” Caleb knelt down next to the net, flicking out a knife and sawing at the magical ropes. “I’ve got you, Phoenix, you’re going to be o—”

One of the scouts yanked Caleb back, throwing him to the side. “Back off! Our kill!”

Phoenix strained and kicked to get away, but the net held, and the more he struggled, the tighter the net got, digging into his skin. His arms started to shift again, the cursed mud sliding in and out of the holes in the net, bubbling and squirming to burst free.

Caleb surged to his feet, cannoning into one of the scouts and wrestling them away from Phoenix. “No!” he yelled, “He’s not—a monster! Leave—him—alone!”

“Get off!”

The scout drew a spell circle, and a flesh-eating plant tore out of the ground, snapping Caleb up in its jaws. The human yelled in pain, and a sound like a roar burst out of Phoenix’s throat. A surge of energy shot through his limbs, and he tore the net apart.

“Titan—”

“Watch out, there it—”

Without thinking, Phoenix threw one hand out, and the cursed mud responded, shooting forward and slamming into one scout’s chest, throwing him backwards into a tree. The other scout threw a fireball at him, and he raised his other arm to shield himself. The magic slammed into his arm, but it didn’t seem to burn, just sort of… splattered against the mud uselessly. Phoenix tossed the scout into the branches of another tree effortlessly, turning to face the plant.

The cursed mud stretched out so far that he could see most of his arm’s bones, and some of his fingers as well. Phoenix faltered, exhaustion sweeping up from the tips of his fingers and through his whole body, like the mud was sapping all the energy he had left.

Caleb cried out as the plant tightened its grip, and Phoenix’s vision blurred. He felt himself moving, felt trees rushing past him, felt something heavy in his arms, but it was all automatic, his feet stumbling along the way until familiar lights blinked at him. He heard a yell for someone to help, and something tugged at the weight in his arms—Caleb, he realized, someone was trying to pull Caleb away. A snarl rasped out of his throat, and he pulled Caleb closer. Shadowy people moved in his eyesight, their faces blurred and indistinct, but all of them keeping a wary distance. He felt big, and detached, like some clumsy beast that had stumbled into a domesticated town.

Something wrapped around his waist, something solid and warm. Phoenix started to pull away, but the thing just clung tighter. It didn’t make any move to take Caleb, or tug him anywhere, or knock him over, it just… held on.

Hugged, he realized, and some small part of Phoenix started to settle back down, enough that he saw and recognized the dirty, freckled face that pressed against him, eyes squeezed shut. He recognized the scar stretching from his left eyebrow to just under his right eye, and the calloused hands, rough from hours spent in the garden.

“Mole?” he whispered.

Evelyn hovered in front of them, her hands fluttering like she wasn’t quite sure whether or not it was safe to touch him. Finally, she stepped forward, sliding one arm around a half-conscious Caleb. Phoenix let her help him down, wrapping his arms around Mole instead.

Mole squeezed so tightly Phoenix’s bruised ribs ached, but he didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry,” Phoenix whispered, “I’m sorry, you were right. I should have asked for help.”

Mole sniffed and nodded, stepping back and holding one fist to his chest, rubbing it in a circle.

“He also says sorry,” Evelyn supplied, “For… being angry?” she guessed.

Mole nodded and hugged Phoenix again. Phoenix wrapped one half-melting arm around him, which quickly turned to one arm around his shoulders while Mole helped him into the house, Phoenix’s legs folding and stumbling like a newborn snake-horse’s. Cherry paced back and forth in the kitchen, but his attention was mostly taken up by the baby grimwalker in his arms, who kept trying to tug on his hair.

“They found you.” Cherry leaned against the table for balance, his distraction allowing the little grimwalker to grasp his flyaway hair strand firmly. “I thought—it got worse, and I didn’t say any—” He held the baby grimwalker tightly, as if they were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. “But you’re—not okay. But you’re here—titan.”

“I’m sorry,” Phoenix croaked. Guilt bubbled up in his stomach again—Cherry had been in a bad enough state when he’d left. And Phoenix had added the stress of hiding how badly he was doing on top of that. “Cherry, I…”

Grimwalkers gathered in a murmuring circle around Phoenix, staring at his arms.

“Did he…” Meleager asked quietly, gesturing to Caleb.

“No,” Caleb protested weakly, “He—”

A loud retch split the air, and the crowd parted around one grimwalker with a blotchy scar marring their right cheek. Everything else about them was pale—their platinum blonde half-up hair, the magenta of their eyes that fell closer to light pink, and the color of their skin, so pale it was almost translucent. They held one hand to their mouth, staring at Phoenix’s arms.

“Ash—” Evelyn started, but they backed away, gagging again, then turned and ran.

“On it,” Matt promised, chasing after them.

At the edge of the circle, Sam glanced at Cherry, who’d started pacing again, at Evelyn, who was still supporting Caleb, and at Phoenix and Mole. His spine straightened, and he gave the grimwalker next to him a slight push.

“Okay!” he announced briskly, shooing grimwalkers out of the kitchen, “Quit gawking! Big whoop! You people are acting like you’ve never seen a guy’s arms drip off his bones before! Give them space! Go do your chores! Isn’t it time for a patrol? Get on it!”

The crowd slowly dispersed, still murmuring.

“They’ll get used to it, assuming you can’t get rid of it,” Sam announced, “We all will.” He gave Evelyn a pointed look at that, then flounced off, following the grimwalkers to the hallway.

Evelyn lugged Caleb towards the temporary medical center. Phoenix started to follow, but fell at his first step, every muscle completely drained of energy. Mole half-carried him to Cherry’s room, pushing him into bed.

“What about—” Phoenix started in a whisper, but Mole just shook his head with a sigh, throwing a blanket over him. He patted Phoenix’s shoulder, as if to say leave it to me, and went outside, closing the lights and the door behind him. Phoenix sighed, pulling his arms close to himself under the blanket.

If I go to sleep now, will I wake up? Or will it take over?

Despite the worry twisting in his stomach, Phoenix’s eyes started to droop shut, heavy with exhaustion.

Just… for a moment.

[iviarellereads]

Rogue Protocol, Chapter 4

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Murderbot Diaries, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

In which (hacker voice) we're in.

Miki's feed has a scan of the facility, so Murderbot is fairly sure it knows where to look for the evidence it needs. Kader says the environmental conditions are showing good, and asks Don Abene if she's sure about the full environmental suits to go in. MB is about to ask Miki to suggest the full-gear, when Don Abene answers in the affirmative, they can reevaluate later but better to be cautious. MB relaxes, at least a little, and reminds itself these aren't its clients.(1)

MB watches the crew gear up and leave through Miki's eyes. Wilken goes first, and the feed from her helmet makes MB wonder if this is the best place to board the facility. Then again, its choice would be to go in with drones before any human set foot, and it snarks a little about knowing what it's doing.

Slowly, the rest of the humans, and Miki, filter onto the facility. MB splits its attention across seven streams, one for each helmet camera and Miki. The feed is completely quiet except for them. Miki wonders to "Rin" if the humans thought the systems would be lonely if they were left active. MB wonders if Art thought it was this stupid, but answers Miki with a maybe, then adds that GrayCris probably removed the system cores to cut their losses. Miki relays this to the humans, and Hirune agrees, though there's some shielding. Ejiro suspects it's the atmospheric disturbances, and Vibol comes in over comm to say they're in some heavy weather, as an in-joke that all the GI humans and Miki express amusement at.

MB finally slips out of the storage cubby and out of the lock, once again wiping the log. Kader is too busy to hear it this time. Instead of following the team, it heads down the corridor, missing its armour not because of anonymity, but because it senses a threat. It thought the visit to RaviHyral might have eased the paranoia, but not so much.

I couldn’t pin down what was bothering me. Scan was negative, and this far away from the team there was no ambient sound except the whisper through the air system. Maybe it was the lack of security camera access, but I’d been in worse places with no cameras. Maybe it was something subliminal. Actually, it felt pretty liminal. Pro-liminal. Up-liminal?(2) Whatever, there was no knowledge base here to look it up.

While the humans report the same sensation as it does, MB makes its way to the lift junction, and warns Miki that it's going to use it, and not to report the power fluctuation. Miki asks where it's going, and it says it needs to check out the geopod, as part of its orders. It remembers too late that it told Miki it was here as extra security for the team, but Miki doesn't question orders,(3) just tells MB to be careful.

MB considers telling Miki what it's really here for, but it knows Miki would report to its human friends immediately. They'll figure out that the facility was doing something other than its stated purpose eventually, when they consider things like the decontam room at the passenger lock, but if Miki says something, Don Abene will ask how she knows, and Miki will have to tell about MB.

Who knew being a heartless killing machine would present so many moral dilemmas. (Yes, that was sarcasm.)

MB gets off the lift and follows a corridor to the geo pod. It can see the storm outside, and it loses twenty two seconds just watching it. Something must leak into the feed, because Miki asks what it's looking at, so it sends a metadata-wiped video. Miki thinks it's pretty, and replays the video a few times as it follows Don Abene.

The team are nearly to their destination, so MB has to get a move on. It finds the digger bots, and finds that fortunately, though someone ordered them to dump their logs in violation of warranty, they were shut down before the buffers emptied, and MB can retrieve all that data without waking them. It's a lot of data, but it can store it on the memory clips it bought, and watch a favourite episode of Sanctuary Moon while it waits.

And wait it does, until Miki asks if that was "Rin".

MB disentangles itself from the console, and asks what Miki means. Miki sends an audio clip, but has to strip out the comm audio before MB can hear the other noises: the air system, and a heartbeat. It warns Miki to determine the direction of the hostile, and alert its humans.

Miki widens its scan, and Don Abene asks what's wrong. Miki asks MB for help, it doesn't have any security training, and it's never been in an emergency. With MB's help, Miki tells Don Abene that something is coming, and they need to leave. As MB processes the data, it tells Miki there's no time to get out, they have to shelter in place. Wilken and Gerth finally figure out what's happening and tell the humans to get down the corridor, but MB knows there's not enough time to make it, and says humans are too slow to work security effectively.

MB finally gets a lift and makes it down to the humans' location, and an action sequence follows that I have no hope of summarizing in full. Suffice it to say, MB makes it just in time to save Don Abene from being pulled out the closing hatch door, and if she hadn't been wearing the enviro suit, she would certainly have been torn in half. As the thing holds the helmet, MB disengages it, noting in an aside that if it had been wearing armour, it would never have had the sensitivity in its fingers to find the release tab.

As Miki asks worriedly if Don Abene needs medical assistance, Gerth tells everyone that MB is a SecUnit. MB wonders where it went wrong, why it lost its impulse control, and whether it should kill them all to protect itself.(4) That would be the smart thing, so it's going to have to take the dumb way out. It acknowledges that it's a SecUnit, but says it's under contract to Security Consultant Rin, sent as an extra security measure. It can't pretend to be an augmented human, not even one of those could do what it just did.

And, it's only at this point that it remembers that Miki will know the difference, that its feed signature is the one Rin was talking to it with the whole time. MB regrets not overriding Miki outright, a little. It asks Miki to let it help. So, when Don Abene asks Miki who this is, Miki says Rin is its friend, and asked Miki not to tell, to keep Don Abene safe. MB notes that this isn't quite a lie or the truth, and gains an inch of respect for Miki's potential depths. Gerth and Wilken share a startled look, but control it quickly.(5)

They contact the pilots, and then Miki notices that Hirune is missing. MB still has a feed for her, but it indicates she's unconscious. Miki replays its footage, finding that Hirune was dragged off first, before Gerth and Wilken started shooting, probably not realizing she was in the same direction as their shots.

Abene finally notices that Gerth and Wilken are pointing their weapons at her saviour. They want to know why there's a SecUnit here, but Abene wants to know how they let Hirune get taken. Miki asks Don Abene desperately to lie and say she knew Rin was here. MB is sure Abene won't take the word of her pet robot, and thinks privately that since that pet robot is playing fast and loose with the truth and definitely withholding that Rin and the SecUnit are the same person, its word isn't worth much here.

But, Abene plays along, and says she didn't know Rin would be here as well.

Gerth and Wilken are still snapping, and there's no communication on the feed between them. MB starts to get suspicious. There are plenty of legitimate questions to ask, since the scenario it described would violate bond regulations. And yet, Gerth finally takes her weapon off MB and points it down the corridor where a hostile took Hirune.

Abene says she doesn't care what they were told, they need to get Hirune back. Gerth can escort Brais and Ejiro back to the ship, and Wilken can help Abene or give her a gun and go with the others. MB punches the air internally, and says Rin instructed it to help in any way necessary. Wilken says Abene should go back to the ship, and she'll go for Hirune with the SecUnit.

The humans going back to the shuttle get upright, and MB tells them not to take a lift, in case it's compromised. Gerth snaps she knew that, and MB snarks in the feed that it knew she'd know that. Miki starts down the corridor where Hirune was taken, and Abene follows, picking up her helmet.(6) MB waits until Wilken starts following Abene and Miki, then comes up level with Abene, watching the other group's feeds for trouble.

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(1) Do you think that's intended as "I'm not responsible for them anyway" or "these people might, in fact, be smarter than my usual clients"? (2) Not exactly how most of those words are used. XD Subliminal is below a threshold, in fairness. Liminal is the threshold, like a liminal space is a threshold between two defined spaces. A doorway is a liminal space between a inside and outside a home, for example, but a foyer is also a threshold because it's the transitional space between home and out. Pro-liminal and up-liminal aren't in any sort of common usage as terms that I can find. I think the word MB was looking for was "superliminal". And I can think of none of this without thinking of the Scott Pilgrim movie soundtrack, and the Sex Bob-Omb track "Threshold" which wouldn't be a very good soundtrack for this scene, but does amuse me. (3) Figure that'll come back to bite MB in the ass sooner, or later? (4) I'm sure with an extra moment to think, MB would acknowledge that the reason it has no more impulse control is because of its drive to protect humans. (5) Can't really blame them, since they were probably, rightly, told they were the only security, and they should've been looped in on any other real security to ensure proper coverage. (6) Times like this, my inability to visualize mentally really gets in the way of reading. I thought the helmet was pulled through the closing hatch, I don't see a passage indicating the hatch was reopened, and yet here we are. Am I missing a line somewhere, or is there an oopsie in the story?