#when i said weeks ago that i was going to bring a notepad and pen into the theatre i was SO dead serious like so for real

[johnslittlespoon]

all the new bikeriders clips have me thinking abt your leaving bikeriders au so much. please tell me there’s more on the way for it i beg

GODDD DON'T EVEN. do you understand. what it's done to my psyche getting smacked in the face with a new teaser or shoot or promo clip every time i've opened instagram? i'm broken. i'm a shell of a man. i've had so many fucking ideas but i've been trying to restrain myself but... only two weeks the movie drops... it's over for us

anyway yeah there's so much more on the way for it i promise LOL i'm still 100% planning to write a proper fic for it as soon as yad(iym) is done; unfortunately that won't be in time for the movie like i'd hoped BUT once i see the movie i'll start drafting at least!

and in the meantime i have a few asks related to this au so i'll get to those soon because i miss those two so much <33

[pleasuretrade]

hi here's the very rough(!) first chapter of a fic that i'm not done with.

if anyone wants to beta or just offer feedback i would be grateful :') but i'm writing this very slowly and don't plan on seeing it done for at least a few more months

March x Healy

Summary: 1980. March and Healy take your classic "reunite me with my estranged adult child" case and may or may not wind up getting involved with a cult, irritating 80's toys, shady business, gardening, and drugs. Oh, and they're pretending to be boyfriends because that's totally a perfect cover??

Rating: 18+ for the eventual porn

Length: I'm gonna guess 30k? I'm at 15k rn and we're maybe halfway through. frankly i got no idea

Tags that aren't exhaustive and mostly aren't applicable to this first chapter, but just a sneak peek: pretending to be boyfriends and there's only one fucking bed anyway bitch, March wearing jeans

 The thing about kitsch dolls was that they were supposed to be cute. In abundance they became disturbing. An uncanny noise of soft pastel abstraction, dotted with innumerable eyes, staring at you from living room walls and display cabinets. It didn’t help that almost all of them were religious; angels with halos, praying children, robed biblical figures. March felt like he might combust if he made direct eye contact with the teeming mass of holy ceramic.

“March, did you write that down?”

 Holland whipped his head toward Healy, and then at their client, and then at his open, empty notepad. See, you shouldn’t have that many dolls in one room, it’s distracting. It’s weird. “Sorry, ma’am, could you repeat that?”

“Benjamin Larry Hooper. We called him Benny.”

“Bejamin….L… Hooper… Benny.” March mumbled, pen dashing across the page with a show of gumption.

 Mrs. Hooper nodded at him, all patterned dress and curled hair, hands placed politely on top of their respective thighs. “He was fifteen when he left, he’ll be twenty-six now. Tall for his age, I’m sure he’s giant by now.”

 Holland wrote in big block letters: DOB 1953 TALL

“This is my most recent picture of him, just a few months before he left.” Mrs. Hooper, Francis, reached across her doilied coffee table to hand Healy a framed photograph. It was obviously some kind of family reunion, the photo lined with folks like a tin of sardines. “That’s Benny.” she said, tapping a young man sitting cross legged in the very front row.

 Benny Hooper looked like any other fifteen year old at a family reunion, irritated or bored or both. He had a great mop of hair, a downright halo of pitch black curls reaching every direction. The slacks and short sleeved button-down were probably not his normal choice of attire, so that wouldn’t be helpful even if the kid had disappeared less than a decade ago. The shot was too wide to memorize the details of someone’s face on top of being old. The Benny in the photo hadn’t even finished puberty yet. Overall, the photo wasn’t great.

“Very helpful, thank you. We could use any other photographs you have, too.” Healy smiled pleasantly the way he did. It was freakish, the way the guy could go from deadpan bruiser to soft-eyed teddybear in an instant.

 Holland smiled along, ignoring the everpresent eyes of Mrs. Hooper's kitsch, even though he knew that there was no chance in hell they were finding Benny Hooper.

-

 “There’s no chance in hell, man.” March lit his cigarette in the passenger seat and donned his sunglasses.

 Healy tapped his fingers where he rested his arm in the open window. “We have a lead.”

“If you wanna call maybe seeing a glimpse of someone you haven’t seen in eleven years driving a truck a couple of times a lead, sure, we have a great lead. Can we stop at Hammy’s? Told Holly I’d bring home dinner.”

“Y’know, I bet I could count on two hands the number of times you’ve gone proper grocery shopping since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true, you went grocery shopping with us like two weeks ago.”

“And you bought eggs, bread, a gallon of neon colored juice, a gallon of whiskey, and five frozen pizzas.”

“Are those not groceries? Is that not sustenance?” March waved his cigarette for emphasis.

“Anyway,” Healy redirected, taking the turn toward Hammy’s, “all we have to do is stake out the spot she saw the truck, right?”

“If everything worked out just that easy we’d be out of a job, Jack.” March took a drag from his cigarette, thanking the stars that loaded, aging ladies were willing to shill out for the most unfeasible asks imaginable time and time again. Healy let it sit because he knew it was true by now, well over two years down the line as a PI.

“Why do you think the kid really left?” Healy asked after a while, expertly flat when Holland had figured out eons ago that the guy really was invested in each case, even the small ones.

“I don’t know, too many doilies? An aversion to puce colored carpet? I wouldn’t stay long either.”

 Healy ignored him. “I find it hard to believe he just up and left for no reason.”

“Maybe Mrs. Hooper’s chicken is dry.” Healy purposefully hit the curb pulling into Hammy’s, jostling March’s cigarette nearly out of his hand. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. Even if we find the kid, he’s not comin’ back. Ten fuckin’ years. Remember that girl, Arrow or Rainbow or whatever she named herself?”

 Healy grunted in reluctant remembrance. They’d found her after a long, boring two months and by the end of it all she’d had to say was ‘thanks for letting me know my family's looking for me, you can go now.’ Not that it mattered much to Holland. They made out with enough money to take a couple of weeks off so they could take Holly to Catalina Island. She got food poisoning on the first day but still claims it was the best trip they’d been on in years (which wasn’t very meaningful considering they’d gone on maybe three of them since she was little).

“Guess you’re right.” Healy parked the car in the crowded parking lot. The line at Hammy’s was always so damn long. “Not getting paid to psychoanalyze the guy.” He sounded reluctant. Any time Healy couldn’t slip in one more act of Good it made him feel like a failure. It was something March secretly admired, however harebrained it was. He glanced a punch off Healy’s shoulder before getting out of the car. “That’s the spirit.”

-

“So why do you think he really left?” Holly asked through a mouthful of burger.

“Jesus, you two should become shrinks.” March grumbled.

 Healy sat comfortably sunken into the couch, a March sitting cross legged on the floor on either side of him. “It might be useful to know.” he added.

“Right. Like maybe you’ll be able to narrow down what kinds of places he’d go if you knew.” Holly agreed.

“Our only lead is a truck. Anyone can drive a truck. I don’t care why he’s driving it. All we have to do is follow.”

“So you admit, it’s a lead.” Healy pointed at him with a french fry.

“It’s a crumb of a lead. It’s the suggestion of a lead. It’s a lingering scent of maybe a lead.”

“Says the guy with no sense of smell.” Healy winked at Holly, who bit her lip to stop her smile from blooming. “A lead’s a lead.”

“Did you notice anything about Mrs. Hooper’s house? Like, anything that might make someone want to run away?” Holly was fifteen and already putting in more work than March.

“Yeah, puce carpet.”

 Healy nudged March with a socked foot. “She seemed nice. Boring, maybe. Said her husband died a few years ago and her other kid’s off at college somewhere, so the house was pretty quiet.”

“Boredom could drive someone away.” Holly said thoughtfully.

“And if it did that still gives us absolutely nothing to go on. Some kids just hate their parents, alright? Guy probably just hitchhiked to New York or something.” March said.

“Sounds nice.” Holly murmured under her breath. Healy nudged her with his other foot.

 March, begrudgingly, loved the gentle way Healy mediated. Fatherhood was something Holland hadn’t really been prepared for, much less being the single dad of a teenager. It didn’t help that he was a big time fuckup or that Holly was too smart for her own good. Having another person in their lives— having Healy in their lives— was a saving grace.

 Recently, Holly had started dating her first boyfriend. Or at least the first that she’d admitted to when she’d lost all plausible deniability after that time they’d picked her up from school and seen her drop some young punk’s hand like a hot iron. It was a point of contention now, between Holly and Holland. Boys were pigs, and Holland would know, he used to be one. It was one of the endless number of things Healy had become referee over, but also something Holly had adopted a near constant attitude because of.

“So when are you starting the stakeout?” Holly asked, fiddling with the cracked straw of her milkshake. March looked at Healy for an answer. He was always better at managing their schedule. Unlike March, he usually remembered what day of the week it was. Healy looked back at him and shrugged. Wasn't like they had another case on, much to the dismay of their wallets. “Tomorrow, I guess.”

 Holly got that look on her face. “Can I come?” Tomorrow was a Saturday.

 March shook his head. “Don’t you have normal teenage things to do? Shouldn’t you be like sneaking vodka out of someone’s mom’s cabinet on a Saturday?”

 Healy chimed in before she could argue. “It’s gonna be boring anyway, Holl. You’ll be sitting in the backseat twiddling your thumbs all day.” She knew that. She’d been on stakeouts with them before. But Healy’s say was more valuable to her than her dad’s, apparently, so she dropped it.

 It was late when Healy headed home, agreeing on the asscrack of dawn to reconvene and start their stakeout.

“Why doesn’t he just live here? You guys spend every day together anyway.”

 March wandered into the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of rye. Their (second) rental, real house unbuilt as ever, was always so still when Healy left. Another item on the laundry list of things March tried not to think about. “Because he’s a grown man, Holly, with his own house.”

“I wouldn’t call that dump a house, and anyway it’s an apartment. He should be sleeping here and not in an attic with a laughtrack that plays until two in the morning.”

“Well then you can invite him to stay for a sleepover next time. You guys can paint nails and read magazines.” Holland wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t really what girls’ sleepovers were like. One time he’d walked in on Holly and her friend eating donuts and saying such depraved things about Joe Strummer that he’d vowed to not open the door without knocking ever again. He never looked at that Clash poster on her wall the same way.

 Holly scoffed in time with the ice tinkling into Holland’s tumbler.

-

 The sun shone way too brightly for Holland. When he’d woken up he’d still been a little drunk, but now out of the house and into Healy’s car a hangover had eagerly seeped in. They’d agreed to start the stakeout before the sun came up, but March had skillfully convinced Healy to take him through a drive-thru breakfast and they were running late. He now nursed a coffee as the sun rose into the perfectly wrong spot in the sky. They watched cars zip lazily by from the corner of a parking lot.

“I just think it would be good to have a dog around.” They’d had this discussion every other day for a month now. March wanted a dog in the house for the very logical reason of alerting them to intruders, Healy nay-sayed because he was a killjoy with no imagination.

“I’m telling you, March, putting in a doggy door just isn’t gonna be enough for a German Shepherd. And we all know you’re not gonna walk it.”

“Why do you even care so much, man? It would be my dog.” And more importantly, why did Healy even have a say in whether or not they got a dog?

“I care because I’d somehow get stuck taking it out half the time. And your sorry ass wouldn’t train it. We’d have an untrained, overpriced menace tearing around the house.” The house. Not Holland and Holly’s house, but The House.

“Well, whatever, even if that was true it’d make a good guard dog, right? No one’s getting past a pent up, feral German Shepherd. Might shit on the carpet but it’ll take a guy’s dick off. Balls too.”

“You should really consider a shrink. I think you’ve lost your damn mind.” Healy shook his head, but Holland caught his smile.

“You taking new patients, doc? I’ve been told by my teenager that I’m a headcase.”

“I could make some room in my busy schedule. Gonna cost you about the same as a purebred German Shepherd, though.”

 March smiled and leaned back into his seat. Absolutely nothing of interest was happening outside at all, which was just fine now but give March three or so more hours and he’d start going stir crazy and the headache wasn't helping.

 Mrs. Hooper had seen the truck twice, once in the morning and once in the early evening, which gave them an unfortunately broad window of time. She’d described it as a white, short cab semitruck, maybe a GMC, with a small trailer on it, which narrowed it down almost not at all. It sounded like every third short haul semi chugging around Los Angeles, of which there were many. Very many.

 The only thing they had to go off of was that the second time around she’d seen what she thought was some kind of blocky hand-lettering on the driver’s side door, done in “nearly illegible” multicolor. When Healy had asked what she meant by “multicolor” Mrs. Hooper had only elaborated as “horribly garish.” So at least there was that.

 The odds that the guy driving the bespoke truck was this Benny person were essentially zero. That was about half their cases these days, desperate longshots funded by desperate rich people. The other half was still taking photographs of idiots who fuck with the curtains open. It was wearing a little thin. Couldn't people invent more important problems to investigate? Whatever. A job’s a job’s a job.

 The coffee in March’s cup had gone cold just in time to meet the creeping heat from outside. He downed the tepid sludge before wrenching the little metal fan out of the back seat and plugging it in. It whirred to life gracelessly.

“Hey.” Healy tapped him on the arm, which startled and excited Holland enough that he flung his empty coffee cup onto the floorboards.

“What—what, you see something?”

 A short cab semi puttered toward them from a distance, aiming for a perfectly timed red light. Healy pulled up the binoculars and squinted through them, waiting for the cab to pull into view enough to see the driver’s door. March’s breathing was shallow in anticipation.

 The truck moved, and Healy tutted, and March could see the glaringly blank door even without the binoculars. “Driver’s blonde. Ginger beard.” Healy said, still staring through the eye pieces like the truck and driver might magically change. “False alarm.”

“They’re all gonna be false alarms. This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack, only the needle was never in the haystack to begin with.”

 Finally, Healy let the binoculars fall into his lap. “I ever told you how much I love your optimism?”

[dalgikiss]

i am unsure of how to mourn for you // k. akaashi

i’ll be right where you left me, come back soon please?

genre: angst

a/n: omg guys this is so haha funny bc actually !! i wrote this a rerally long time ago as well and it’s soooo hahaha funny bc this guy i was dating had actually broken up w me and somehow, in a haha funny not really way, the universe had turned my world upside down and i had uttered the same exact words i had written!!!! I didnt even realize it until i read it again recently but lmaoooo... haha funny.......

The waitress greets you, the same soft smile you’ve grown accustomed to seeing on her face stretching her lips. 

“Miss, will you be seated where you always sit?”

You smooth out the white dress on your thighs -it looks really nice on you babe- and nod. “Yes, please”

The waitress hands you a menu as you’re shown to your usual table, the leather bound book laid out in front of you on the table. You think it’s funny they still give you one- you’ve been here so many times, you think you know all the servers working. 

Your fingertips drag along the cover of the menu, tracing along the logo. There’s no reason to open it, you already know what you’ll get. Your answer has never changed from the first time he asked you-

“What are you getting?” Akaashi looked up from the menu, long fingers reaching over the table to rest across your hands. You admired the way his finger fit almost perfectly in between the spaces of your own. 

You grinned, before returning your gaze back to the selection written out on the menu. Akaashi waited patiently, fingers tapping against yours to a rhythm only you could hear. 

“I think I’ll get the-“

“Miss?” 

You blink, startled as the waiter’s face came within view. She smiles, strands of hair falling out of a neat bun. Her black pen stands on the small notepad she’s holding, while you stare up at her, dazed. 

“The usual for you, is that correct?”

You take a sip from your water glass and let the condensation wet the tips of your fingers. 

“Yes, thank you”

x.

The water swirls around in your glass while you gazed at the customers around you. You smile when someone laughs, and twist your lips with distaste when someone leaves a mess on their table for servers to clean up. The waiters dance around each other, giving each other fleeting grins when they can. 

You twirl your fork around the pasta, ignoring the pitying stares the waiters cast at you when they can. You can always tell who the new ones are, how they pause at your table half a second longer than the ones used to your presence. 

From the corner of your eyes, you can see two waiters in the corners converse, already knowing how their conversation is going. 

(Don’t you know? She’s been coming here for almost a year now, every week at the same time

What? Why?

I heard her boyfriend broke up with her here and she can’t get over it

Breakups happen everyday, she doesn’t have to lose it)

I know, you want to yell at them every time they sneak a peek at you, I’m sick of being hung up over him still

x.

Akaashi sighed, but the smile on his face never left even as you pushed your half finished plate of pasta towards him. 

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, “You think you can finish that for me though babe?”

“And if I say no?” Akaashi asked, voice low despite the rather noisy ambiance but it didn’t matter anyways, you already knew what he was going to say. You rested your cheek on the palm of your hand as he took a bite from your pasta, speaking with his mouth full, “what will you do then?” 

You laughed, stars dancing in your eyes and Akaashi reached over to stroke a finger over the curve of your cheek. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about” 

He twirled another bite of pasta around his fork, bringing it up to his mouth. 

I love you, you want to say but you keep your lips pressed together instead. Akaashi glances up at you and smiles through a mouthful of pasta. You think he already knows what you want to say, but then again, he always does. 

x.

The waiter brings by a chocolate cake, piled high with whipped cream. You stare at her in confusion and she smiles in response. 

“Don’t worry about it,” She answers your unspoken question, setting down a clean fork and taking away your pasta plate that was left unfinished, “It’s on the house tonight”

“Oh,” You pause, staring at the decadent slice. You can almost taste the deep chocolate flavor already. “Thank you,”

The waiter smiles, bright like the moon that hangs in the sky and you wish it didn’t remind you so much of Akaashi. “Do you want this in a to-go box again?”

You pick up the fork and scoop a piece of chocolate into your mouth. The rich flavor coats your tongue, sweet to cushion the fall as you think about how much she reminds you of Akaashi and you miss him, missyoumissyousomuchcomebackplease

“Yes please,” You push another forkful of cake into your mouth and hope she can’t see the way your throat tightens. 

x.

It felt like the entire restaurant was listening in to your conversation that night.

“I um-” you blinked, “what?”

“I said,” Akaashi lowered his gaze, “We need to break up”

The ringing in your ear grew louder, the pounding in your head grew stronger, am i breathing? I don’t feel like I’m breathing

“Oh,” You said breathlessly, wincing at your lack of words. Akaashi kept his face trained on the frozen position of your hands, still held in midair before he dropped the news. 

“It’s just, I thought our spark was dying out” Akaashi fumbled over his words, “I’ve been really busy with the whole editorial job and you’ve been so worked up about your dissertation that I-”

You held up a hand, finally feeling the strain on your muscles from holding them in the air for so long. “Stop, I’ve heard enough”

You placed the napkin back onto the table, slowly standing up. There’s a barrage of words crowding your head, each one less coherent than the last, but you hold your tongue. 

Ihatehimihateyouifuckinghateyou

Don’tbreakupwithmestayhereplease

Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

“I’ll return your things when I can. Just leave my stuff outside my door.” You praised yourself for not crying immediately, “Good night and thank you for the meal”

x.

Perhaps it’s rather cruel of the universe to make you remember such a thing in the middle of a public area. 

You sniff miserably, shoving another forkful of cake into your mouth. Seeing another couple at this restaurant shouldn’t turn you into a puddle of tears, and yet here you are- crying over a piece of chocolate cake. 

You suppose it’s better than crying in front of your ex though. You let yourself smile a little in satisfaction to hide the growing ache in your stomach. Like hell were you going to let Akaashi see your tears. 

(Oh, but… the pain’s still here, you know)

(Shut up, you tell your heart, just shut the fuck up)

Someone laughs in the background. You close your eyes and will the tears away so you can enjoy your cake in peace. When you open your eyes again, you freeze. 

“A-akaashi?”

He sits in front of you - i’m actually fucking hallucinating - with the same stupid white shirt that he wore when he broke up with you. 

You gape, mouth open like a fish searching for water. A waiter stops in front of your table to refill your wine glass, body leaning forward and through Akaashi?

Of fucking course. You laugh out loud, ignoring the strange look the waiter gives you. Of course he wasn’t here. On top of being hung up over a breakup, you were hallucinating too. 

Could you just get a fucking-

“Hey,” Akaashi smiles like he never left you and you want to barf. He presses on anyways, voice still the same as you remembered it, “[name]”

You unconsciously hold the stem of the recently filled wine glass, and hate the way your heart still flutters at how his mouth forms the syllables in his mouth. 

“[name]”, Akaashi says your name again but you think you already know what he’s going to say. 

“You have to let me go,” His smile is sorrowful, “it’s time”

You squeeze your eyes shut and duck your head, “I can’t, I can’t, please, I-”

He shakes his head, his lips still sporting the same sorrowful smile. “You have to let me go,”

It’s time

Let me go

“I’m trying!” Your frustration bleeds into your words, “I’m trying so fucking hard but I can’t just- I can’t just forget the way you did! I loved you, I can’t believe that I still fucking love you. I thought we were doing fine” 

Needles crawl up your legs and render them numb, before winding up towards your arms and neck, throat clenching as the words you had put off saying for so long finally see the light. 

Your voice breaks, “I thought we were doing great. I thought we were going to be fine, I don’t know what to think anymore”

“You left me no choice but to stay here, you-” The wine glass you’re desperately holding onto breaks, glittering glass shards cutting into the delicate skin of your fingers. Your vision blurs, black streaks of mascara staining your cheeks as you shakily gasp for air. 

Someone’s shaking your shoulder, “Miss? Miss!” 

You shudder, staring wide eyed and confused at the waiter who was holding napkins along your wrist, where blood dripped down past your elbow. A red puddle stains the pure white tablecloth, forming a maroon stain. Where the cuts begin or end, you’re not sure but the dull ache is nothing compared to the violent turmoil in your heart. 

“You’re bleeding so much,” The waiter holds your arm tighter, “Are you hurt anywhere else? Please be careful, there’s glass everywhere” True to her word, glass shards are scattered around the table and the floor, winking as the dim light catches onto them. 

You swing your head around, finally taking in the mess around you. “I- I am so sorry,” You stammer, head spinning. Your heart constricts when you realize the chair in front of you was empty, void of Akaashi. “Please, let me pay for everything, are you alright?” 

The waiter smiles, “Don’t worry about me, I’m perfectly fine. You’re still bleeding though, I think you should go to the hospital”

You thank her for the suggestion, standing up carefully as the waiter guides you away from the glass shards sparkling on the ground. Someone else rushes over with a dustpan and a broom, and you’re finally aware of all the eyes on you, some confused, others filled with pity. 

“I should go,” You mumble awkwardly to the waiter who was still holding up the tissues onto your arm, “Please let me pay and help you clean up”

The waiter shakes her head, “You don’t have to. We know you’ve been having a hard time lately, sometimes these things just happen. Please, just go home and get those cuts looked at” You open your mouth to protest but she’s laughing, a sound that seems almost foreign in your ears. “Go, go! We’re alright here, we’re prepared for this. All of us just want you to be happy” 

You’re stunned into silence, looking at the host standing at her podium, but she only smiles and nods her head like the waiter coaxing you out the door. “At least, let me give you this” You fumble with your wallet, bills of all kinds flying out as you dump them into the tip jar, and they all laugh like your mother did when she caught you dancing around the kitchen, too immersed in the song to notice the growing audience. 

Luckily for you, they accept what you have given them and then you’re out the door with the cool night air kissing your burning cheeks and drying the salt from your tears. 

[weasleywinchester]

Please Don’t Tell Anyone (Pt. 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

Poe Dameron x female reader

You know, I always try to keep cute fluffy ideas in my brain, and this literally came to me as I got in the shower. So enjoy some fluff and shenanigans bought to you by Rey

P.S. it’s not essential to read the other parts, but it helps you understand a few references 🧡

P.P.S. I did use a fluff prompt from someone’s list, but I don’t have the link :(

“Are you checking me out?” Poe whispers across the board room table. You’ve been staring at him for what feels like eons, much like the duration of this meeting. You blink hard, eyes now focused on his full blown smirk, and frown.

“No. You’re obscuring my view.” You whisper harshley. Poe’s smirk turns into a frown as he spins his chair toward the presentation happening behind him.

Oh. He sighs. Maybe she did just mean lunch as a friend. His frown deepens, deciding he should probably pay attention.

“Hey you have one of those notepad things?” Rey huffs as she takes a seat beside you.

“The meeting started thirty minutes ago.” You point out.

“Jedi training.” She gives you a duh look. “ Notepad?” She makes a grabby motion with her hands.

“Just this one.” You quickly tear off your doodle page and hand it to her, along with a pen. “Since when do you write on paper?” You raise your brows as she starts scribbling.

“Leia said it would be good to write down what I see when I meditate. Might help me understand the force a bit better. Said it worked for one of Luke’s students.”

You nod. It did help you with your meditation, helped you think further on what the force was bringing to you.

Rey writes as much as she can until her hand cramps; which leads her to doodling. She liked drawing people, faces. It was something that her memory blocked about her parents for so long that she started drawing to engrain as many faces as she could into her brain.

She had seen over the course of many meetings that you always drew in the corners and the margins, a habit she happily adopted. But today there was a hidden surprise. As she shaded the small forest she had started, words began to appear. She quickly scribbled over the whole corner to reveal two words in your messy script:

Mrs. Dameron

Her eyes dart to the back of Poe’s head, and then to the side of your face. Finn’s not going to believe this. She smiles to herself.

When the meeting finally ends Rey quickly skips to your office and waits for you.

“You sprinted out of that meeting just to meet me here?” You laugh, punching your code in.

“Though I’d return your notepad before it became mine forever.” She laughs tossing it on your desk.

“How thoughtful.” You roll your eyes, taking a seat at your desk.

“Left my forest doodle at the top, figured you’d enjoy it.” She smiles extra wide.

“You ok?” You raise your brows at her. Your smile is freakin me out…

“Mmhmm.” She nods, putting her chin in her hands as she leans on the desk. You give her another look before grabbing the notepad and putting it back inside your clipboard. And then you see it. Mrs. Dameron rubbed over with the pen. Fuck me.

“Didn’t realize you had a thing for pilots…”

You bite down on your tongue. You know you can’t deny it, that’ll just make her run off and tell Poe… or worse Finn.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” You plead. “Especially Finn.” You point at her. She holds her hands up in surrender but the smile on her face says nothing but trouble.

_______

“Rey said this is for you.” The receptionist smiles as you collect the day's mail. You mumble a thanks as you scan over the data from the last week. You rip open the envelope to reveal a second envelope; but the second one says

For Mrs. (Y/N) Dameron

You slap the envelope to your chest and scurry into your office, sliding the door shut.

“If she doesn’t kill me, I’ll kill her.” You chuckle to yourself. You open the envelope and inside is a a doodle of you and Poe hugging BB8.

Aww. Damn you Rey for making something so cute. You slide it into one of the frames you have your desk that faces you, and smile.

_______

You stretch your neck as you walk to your locker, stiff from the latest patrol. Eager to get your flight suit off you fling your locker open.

“Shit!” You jump. There’s a drawing of Poe hanging from the locker shelf.

“Hey, how was your patrol?” Finn asks. You quickly rip the drawing down, grabbing a book and shoving it in the cover.

“Fine! Fine.” You nervously shrug, flashing him a smile.

“You ok?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Ya, totally…” you giggle. Too much, calm down.

“Ok… you wanna hang tonight? Poe and Rey have the night off too.” He hikes his thumb over his shoulder. You’re being really weird and jumpy… kinda like Poe when Finn discovered him putting plants in your office.

“Ya, ya. Uh, that’s good. I actually have to talk to Rey about something anyways.” You smile, closing your locker and backing away. “I’ll see you tonight!” You awkwardly stick your hand in the air and take off running.

______

You don’t stop until you're safely back inside your room. You slip the drawing out of the book and look at it. It’s a beautiful portrait of him; extremely detailed and life-like. So much so you could have sworn you’d seen it somewhere before.

The sound of something scraping along the floor pulls your eyes away and you see another envelope addressed to Mrs. Dameron. You open the door but she’s already gone. You quickly open the envelope to reveal another drawing, but this one is much more risqué.

“I’m going to kill you.” You tell the empty room before throwing both drawings on your bed and hitting the shower.

_______

“I love this couch.” You mumble as you lay across the whole thing. You hear a little excited wooooaaw as BB8 comes barreling toward you.

“Hey BB, whatchya got?” You smile as his little arm holds out a piece of paper. The front says Mrs. Dameron and you quickly rip it from BB8’s grasp. He gives a surprised beep, backing up a little.

“Sorry bud, didn’t mean to scare you.” You pat his belly as you open the paper.

“She scarin you buddy?” Poe coos at him, sitting next to your feet.

“I didn’t mean too!” You playfully cry out. This time instead of a drawing there’s a picture of you and Poe. You’re not sure who took it or when but you and Poe are both full blown cheesin at the camera.

“Does that say Dameron on it?” Finn leans over the back of the couch, tilting his head to try and see the paper better.

“What?! No!” You instantly tuck the paper under your arm.

“What was it?” Poe taps your feet, and you raise them so he can scoot over to let Finn sit next to him.

“Just something from Rey.” You wave them off.

“What about me?” She smirks, handing Finn the bucket of snacks and standing in front of your face.

“I got your note.” You glare at her, sitting up.

“Did you like it?” She asks. The boys start talking about what movie to watch so you turn your back to them.

“How did you get so much detail?” You ask under your breath.

“Mm. First one was off one of the pictures you took when you had the three of us model for you.” She smiles, sticking a gummy blurg in her mouth.

“And the one you slid under the door?” The smile on her face gets wider, and you can tell she’s trying to hold in a laugh.

“That was mainly Kaydel. We took some liberties.” She giggles.

“I’m going to kill you both.” You shake your head, turning to the boys.

[moririki]

⤷ A DEVIL, THEN A MAN

DENJI X READER -> 1.2K there's only so much blood and killing that you can take

REQUEST -> ✰ CONTAINS -> nonspecific gore and mentions of blood, basically you are like reze but perfectly normal (spoiler alert), uhhhh heavy on the angst :(, mentions of death, mostly consisting of flashbacks in italics, one (1) awkward ass joke, shit writing honestly, i omitted one of the prompts anon im sorry!!! MORI'S THOUGHTS -> i'm so sorry for this one but i didn’t know what else to write!! denji smut coming soon <3

YOU'VE HEARD YOUR FAIR SHARE OF HORROR STORIES ABOUT WORKING A GRAVEYARD SHIFT. under the guise of a pitch black sky, all manners of people started crawling around, hungry for something. and with you being a waitress at a diner, it was safe to say that you'd see a good selection of said people.

you didn't exactly work in the safest neighbourhood, and you've learnt that it's best to keep your head down while you took orders. the words avoid confrontation were pretty prominent in your mind when your eyes zeroed in on questionably coloured stains or bloodied hands. it wasn't your business, after all. and hey, some of them even tipped well.

it was a pretty good rule to follow. so in a way, you only really had yourself to blame for the following events that occured over the span of these last two weeks.

it had all started so ordinarily. you had been wiping down a freshly vacated table in an otherwise empty diner when you heard the chime of the front door as someone new came in.

"hi, how can i help y-" as your eyes caught up with your mouth, words died on your tongue as you took in the sight in front of you. a boy, wearing a shirt and tie, completely covered in blood from head to toe. if you looked past all the red, you could see his blond hair, and that he looked to be around your age.

"oh my god." you stood up straight, feeling panic set in as you saw just how much blood there was. "do you need me to call an ambulance?" the boy just shook his head, even smiling, before walking up to the counter and taking a seat.

"i'm good, can i just get a burger?"

that seemed so long ago. in reality, it had only been two weeks. against, your better judgement, you decided to take his order and leave him be. for the most part, anyway.

"what's your name?" you couldn't help but blurt it out. you had just set the burger that the boy had ordered down in front of him, and the additional question spilled out. his hands were already picking it up, but he paused and looked at you, mildly surprised.

"it's denji."

that information was like a key to open some floodgates, and it was a bitter memory of yours.

the food here must have been better than you thought, because denji was back. though this time the sun was still up, and his shirt and tie were devoid of any blood or guts.

you couldn't help your smile when you turned your head towards the ringing bell of the front door and spotted his familiar face. you finished taking the order of the family sat at the table in front of you, before sauntering over to where denji was. funnily enough, it was the exact same spot as last time.

"hey, stranger." denji perked up at your voice, almost like he'd been waiting for you. you smiled at the thought, taking out your notepad to keep your mind busy. "how can i help you?" denji smiled up at you, shamelessly.

"well, you could tell me your name. i never got it last time." he made you laugh, and you bit your lip as you tapped your nametag with your pen.

"it's right here, mister."

"i can't read."

you went bright red at that, feeling embarrassed about your blunder. the feeling only worsened when denji laughed at your face, resting his chin on one of his hands. you covered your face with your own, peeking out at him between two fingers.

"it's y/n," you mumbled, voice muffled by your palms.

as you sat curled in front of your tv, eyes widened in horror as you took in the content of the news report, you found yourself wondering whether denji was really as harmless as he let on.

“so, denji, what do you do?” your favourite customer was back, though it was just for a bowl of fries this time. he held one between his fingers, though his attention was still trained on you.

“what do you mean?”

you giggled, sliding into a seat next to him. it was late, and he was the only one left. with the cook out back for a smoke break, you were effectively the only two in the building. not that you minded.

“i mean, where else do you go when you aren’t here?”

“i’m a devil for hire.”

you thought he was just joking at the time, but with the news reporter’s voice rattling off a list of casualties, things seemed to be slotting into place. there was a bigger picture forming, and you didn’t like it.

the last time denji visited you while you worked, it was a lot more different than the other times.

for starters, his presence didn’t make a smile spread across your face. you almost dreaded the bell, and having to turn to see his cheery face and just act like everything was okay.

he was perceptive. the smile from his face dropped, and you approached his table on shaky legs.

“can i take your order?” your tone was a lot more clipped, completely devoid of any previous warmth. denji recoiled, like you had reached across the counter and slapped him. 

“are you alright?” his voice was tentative, and you were glad that there weren’t any other customers in the diner right now. it really had been just denji these past few days. and try as you might, you just couldn't bring yourself to hate him.

even if the news reports coming in every day spoke of the violence used by a chainsaw devil, one who was sat right in front of you, your head and heart couldn't make the distinction between denji and that thing.

"i don't know who you are any more." your voice sounded hollow, and the blond boy's eyes widened in panic.

"y/n? what do you mean?" the panic in his tone sounded so genuine, so human, and it was messing with your head. surely, he was anything but.

"the news, denji. i hear stories of some chainsaw devil mowing down so many people. it's you, isn't it?" the boy was silent, now, and it spoke louder than any words could. you felt your pen and notepad slip from your grasp, one of your hands covering your mouth as you felt your lip tremble. as if moving on strings, you started staggering away from denji's seats, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes as it dawned on you.

"i'm sorry," denji tried. he was out of his seat by now, torn between wanting to go to you or respect the fact that he was the last person that you wanted to see right now. you shook your head at his outstretched hand, vehemently, and denji withdrew it like you had slapped him.

you couldn't bring yourself to look into his eyes.

eyes that had been so delicate and warm when you first met him, and then kept meeting him. eyes that lit up whenever you spoke to him, ones that you never thought belonged to a murderer.

eyes that now looked like they had been extinguished as denji nodded, an air of finality to the motion.

you could only watch his back as he headed to the door, not even giving you a second glance as the bell chimed and the door slammed shut behind him one final time.

take a look at the menu - ,, 🫀 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[ncssian]

A Favor: Bonus Scene Two (Gwynriel)

Masterlist

a/n: this picks up right after nesta leaves gwyn’s apartment in Part 24. warning for discussions of sex, obviously.

***

As soon as the apartment door shuts after Nesta, Gwyn releases a breath and turns to Azriel with a wide gaze. “Do I really have to teach you guitar?” she says.

“Of course not.” He rolls his eyes. It was a throwaway line meant to get Nesta off his back, and even she didn’t entirely believe it. He moves toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, still shaken from Nesta storming into Gwyn’s bedroom like that. Not that she interrupted much. Gwyn still has a long way to go before she can handle anyone touching her between her legs, Azriel thinks.

He never asked Gwyn what a twenty-seven year old woman was so afraid of sex for when she first suggested her proposal to him. She looked so scared that he would question her that he couldn’t bring himself to poke even a little bit. Not that he needs to poke. He’s not a fucking idiot, and Gwyn’s thighs had been trembling in involuntary fear under his hands earlier. She’s been hurt.

For her sake, he pretends to remain ignorant and incurious, but right now his grip on the glass in his hand is so tight it might shatter. His face remains cool as he pours himself water.

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Gwyn hops up onto the kitchen counter and swings her freakishly long legs. “About what you get out of our deal?”

“I don’t expect you to teach me sex for free, obviously,” Gwyn blabbered the day after they got back from the ski lodge. “You can ask for something from me, too. Even money, if that’s your thing.”

Prostitution was not Azriel’s thing, though he wouldn’t knock it. The truth was that his brain had started turning as soon as Gwyn told him about her idea, and now it couldn’t stop. Oddly enough, this opportunity was perfect.

“Tell Nesta that I’m using you as a rebound?” Azriel nearly snorts on his water. “Did you miss the part where she almost cut my dick off and choked me with it?”

Gwyn hums noncommittally. “Being a distraction from your ex is better for me than it is for you. It’s insurance that you won’t get any funny ideas.” She narrows her teal eyes at him. “If you find yourself moving on from Nesta’s hot sister, you better tell me right away. I’ll end this whole thing quickly and cleanly.”

“Why?” He thought moving on from Elain was the goal, one he was unlikely to achieve.

“You know.” She crosses her arms in an X over her chest like she’s warding him off. “You might catch—feelings for me.”

This time Azriel really does snort on his water, hard. His laughter turns into coughing when it slips down the wrong pipe, and liquid dribbles onto his shirt. Gwyn just sits there and stares at him in vague disgust.

When he’s done choking, he wipes his mouth with the hem of his tee and gasps, “Even without Elain, you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Trust me.”

Gwyn wrinkles her freckled nose in distaste. “I would be offended if I wasn’t so relieved.”

He’s still chuckling when Gwyn says cautiously, “By the way…” She chews on the inside of her cheek. “Did you really ghost Elain?”

Azriel is no longer amused.

“When you said you broke up with her, I thought you actually broke up with her,” Gwyn continues. “I didn’t know you were one of those guys.”

Shame tinged with embarrassment floods Azriel, and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. Why does it matter what Gwyn of all people thinks of him, especially when she doesn’t have all the details?

He thought he was making things easier for Elain by leaving without a word. He thought she would let him slip out of her mind after a couple of weeks just like he slipped out of her life, and that it would be better than having to hear him dump his insecurities on her.

He knows now that he was only making things easier for himself. Knows that if he had stayed and talked things out with Elain, she would have convinced him to stay. If he had called her at all in the past two months, he would have gone running back to Velaris like a sailor answering a siren’s song.

She’s always been a siren—which is why he can’t regret doing what would have happened eventually anyway. Even without that Vanserra bastard or some other man, Elain could never have been a permanent fixture in Azriel’s life. Little details sprinkled throughout their time together confirm that for him now.

That doesn’t mean Elain deserved it, or deserves it now. Azriel knows that.

But all he can think of to say to Gwyn is, “Yeah, maybe I am one of those guys.” He puts his glass in the sink. “You still want me as your teacher?”

Gwyn shrugs, looking away. “It’s not like I’ve got any other choice.”

Azriel would disagree. He says what he’s been thinking since they got back from Cassian’s birthday trip. “Wouldn’t you rather do this with someone you love and trust?”

“God no,” Gwyn snorts, providing no further explanation.

Azriel can understand being hesitant to admit sexual inexperience to a crush, but it doesn’t stop him from judging Gwyn’s new man. If this coworker of hers is so great, wouldn’t she be able to trust him unabashedly with her insecurities? Wouldn’t he readily accept her for all that she is?

Ugh, he’s been dipping into Nesta’s reading collection too much lately. “Alright, then.” He leans against the counter opposite Gwyn. “Let’s talk about learning. You clammed up in bed back there after ignoring my suggestions and shoving my head between your legs.”

“I clammed up because of my best friend barging into my room and catching us together,” Gwyn defends.

“Your pussy was dry as bread before that,” he retorts. Ooh, now he wants toast.

Gwyn turns a furious shade of red while Azriel starts looking around for bread. He finds it sitting by the toaster. “Can you not say that?” she hisses at him.

“What?” He looks up from dropping bread into the toaster.

“You know…” She glances around cautiously as if someone might overhear. “Pussy.”

“Pussy,” he says again, just to be annoying. Gwyn’s shoulders turn inward in embarrassment, and he has to hold back a grin. Yeah, she’s definitely not ready for oral.

He finds a butter knife and some peanut butter. “I told you to start easy and you ignored me. You tried jumping into the deep end without learning how to tread water.”

Gwyn scoffs. “And what does ‘treading water’ entail again?”

Azriel shrugs, plucking up his finished toast. “Making out, heavy petting, freshman-year-of-high-school kind of stuff.”

“I’ve done that before,” she mutters indignantly. “Maybe not in my freshman year, but I’ve done it.”

He wonders how long ago that was, or if it was before she was—hurt.

“Besides,” Gwyn goes on before he can push the matter further, “I’m not budging on kissing. I want to save that for the man I actually like.”

“You don’t like me?” Azriel raises a brow, slathering peanut butter over his toast. “You definitely don’t act the same with me as you do with other men.” Or at least that’s what he assumes. Up until a short while ago, he never would’ve been able to imagine timid Gwyn having the guts to ask anyone for sex ed. That’s got to make him special, right?

But then Gwyn waves him off and says, “That’s ‘cause you’re not a real man. I knew you before puberty.”

Azriel nearly drops his toast. “Wow, the nerve of this woman,” he mutters with wide eyes. If she keeps this up, he’s going to start regretting ever going to the same school as her. “That’s not what you said when you were going on about how attracted you are to me.”

“I said you were attractive, not that I was attracted.” Gwyn’s blush is more from irritation than shyness now. “You do the job, but you’re no Max.” She giggles at saying his name. Actually giggles. “I’ll only kiss Max.”

“What kind of stupid ass name is Max?” Azriel grumbles through a mouthful of peanut butter.

“It’s short for Maximillian.”

He chokes. “Jesus, that’s even worse.” He’s doing all this work for some guy named Maximillian. Maybe he should just go home and let Nesta give him the beating he deserves.

Except thinking about Nesta only reminds Azriel of what a coward he is, because he fears facing her again almost as much as he fears facing Elain. “By the way, could I…” he starts hesitantly.

Gwyn gives him a judgmental sneer. “You don’t want to go back to the cabin, do you?”

He shakes his head.

“You can’t stay here,” she responds, crushing his hopes. “I have plans tonight, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t let you be such a wimp.” She hops off the counter and comes over to him, surprising him by grabbing both of his shoulders. “Azriel,” she says somberly.

He swallows his toast roughly.

“You have to grow some balls,” she continues. “Not just for your sake, but for the sake of every poor woman in your life. Also, all this drama is personally a turn-off for me, which is detrimental to my sex education.” She wrinkles her nose. “Do better and all that, you know?”

Damn, okay.

Instead of standing there like an idiot, Azriel manages to say, “Fine, I’ll go.” He shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth and dusts off his hands, heading for the living room.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave right now—” Gwyn follows after him. Azriel is already on the couch, pulling a stray notepad and pen on the coffee table closer to himself.

He clicks the pen. “When’s that library guy planning to take you out?” he asks, starting to write.

Gwyn hovers near him, watching the notepad over his shoulder in confusion. “Um, this Saturday. Just a casual coffee shop thing.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday.” He scribbles down some bullet points and labels the page LESSON PLAN. “Until then, think about a way to enjoy foreplay without kissing. Here are some suggestions so you can practice.” He tears the lined paper out of the notepad and hands it to Gwyn.

Her eyes skim over the page, brows rising with each point she reads. “Is all this really necessary?”

Azriel remembers how he barely brushed his lips against Gwyn’s core before having to pull away and kiss her quivering thigh instead. He can’t have sex with an unaroused woman, and he definitely can’t do it with a terrified woman. “Foreplay is absolutely necessary,” he says, getting up from the couch and stretching to his full height. Where Elain used to only reach his chest, Gwyn’s head almost reaches his nose. It amuses him for some reason.

“Do you like movies?” he adds. “I’ll take you to the movies on Friday.” Preferably something boring and played out, so the theater will be empty and she won’t be paying attention.

Gwyn’s eyes widen. “Is going on dates also part of foreplay?”

“It can be,” Azriel shrugs. It will be when he does it. He drops a hand onto Gwyn’s head and ruffles her hair. “I’d love to stay and help you study, but I have to go and grow some balls.” He mock-frowns at her as he heads for his shoes and keys. “See you later, Gwyneth.”

***

a/n: wait why do i wanna write the movie theater scene now… pls help me im just trying to finish this damn fic im getting too old for this

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 1)

Summary: While at home one night, the reader, an actress, is almost kidnapped and at her friend’s suggestion she hires Jensen as her bodyguard. While the pair doesn’t get along, an incident at the reader’s new home leads her and Jensen to taking a drastic measure...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Word Count: 3,900ish

Warnings: language, minor injury, attempted kidnapping, drugging

A/N: There will be no taglist for this series. Please check out the masterlist for posting dates/times. Enjoy!

_________

“Get the fuck off!” you said, kneeing the man that was halfway through dragging you down your stairs. You threw a punch and a kick, swinging more than a few times before the grip on you fell away and you booked it for the front door. You sprinted outside and down the driveway, dashing across the street and banging on your neighbor’s door. 

A light came on and you glanced over your shoulder, spotting the guy dressed in black and wearing a mask jog to the end of your driveway.

“Shit, shit,” you said, a strong arm grabbing you and yanking you inside before you could even turn back around. The door slammed shut after you and you took a deep breath, your neighbor standing there in his boxers, saying something to his wife in the background. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” said Jared. You straightened up and nodded, his eyes going wide. 

“Gen! Tell them she needs an ambulance too,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you said as he walked you to his kitchen and sat you down at the counter. Gen was in there, on the phone with the police it sounded like, as Jared went to a cupboard. He pulled out a red bag and then was walking back over with a wad of bandages, holding it up to your forehead. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” he said. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you said, pressing your hand to your head, seeing the half secured zip tie stuck on your other wrist. There were sirens in the distance and you shut your eyes.

“Hey, no sleeping. You might have a concussion,” he said.

“I’m not sleeping,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck.”

“It’s okay,” he said, the sirens getting louder before there were flashing lights in the window. Gen walked over to the front door, letting the police in. About four officers came inside, one of them immediately coming over to you.

“What’d he look like? How many?” he asked.

“Uh, all in black, with a mask. He was white I think from what I could tell. Maybe six foot, average build, strong. It was just the one as far as I know. Last I saw him he was at the end of the driveway before my neighbor let me in his house,” you said.

“You two, call it in for backup and start looking. Jones, get a full statement from these three. Start with the vic. Medics will want to look at that head,” he said. “Which house is yours?”

“Right across the street. Red front door,” you said. He left and the other cop in there pulled out a plastic bag from his back pocket.

“I need to cut that off for evidence,” he said, glancing at your wrist.

“Should we do anything?” asked Jared as the cop made a cut and bagged the plastic tie.

“I would keep pressure on that wound for the moment,” he said, writing on the bag and taking out a notepad and pen. “Alright. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“I was asleep less than ten minutes ago in my bed and I woke up to someone touching my arm and I found that tie thing on me and the guy tried grabbing my other arm but I rolled away. I got caught up in the covers while I was running away so he caught up to me in the hall outside my bedroom and I just started hitting what I could and then he tried to pull me downstairs and I hit him some more and then he let go and I ran over here.”

“How’d you sustain the head injury?” he asked.

“Well he was hitting me too when I started fighting back,” you said. “I was half-awake.”

“Okay. Sir, I’m going to need to ask you a few questions now.”

Three Hours Later

“Hey,” said Jared, setting a cup of tea down at his breakfast table. He rubbed your back and you sighed. “Rough night huh?”

“At least I don’t have a concussion,” you said, touching your butterfly bandages on your head.

“Police said your alarm wasn’t on.”

“So this is my fault?” you asked.

“No, I didn’t say that. I am saying that you and Gen have a very popular show together and if she didn’t have me around, I’d want her to have a bodyguard, maybe even full time,” he said.

“I have had this conversation with my manager multiple times. I’m not getting a bodyguard. For events and conventions, fine, I’ll have one. At work? In my life? No way,” you said.

“Y/N, you know I used to be in the army. Then I was a cop. Then I was on a SWAT team before I retired to become a stay at home dad,” he said.

“Yes. You’re an adorable scary badass. What’s your point?” you asked.

“When I worked SWAT, I worked a a few kidnapping cases. The honest truth is sometimes we don’t find you until it’s too late or we never do. It’s not like a movie. It’s not like your guys show and someone swoops in. No one shows up out of the blue to save you. You save yourself or you don’t get saved. Rarely do we get you out of that situation.”

“Again, what’s your point?”

“My point is whoever that person was, when they come back because they will come back, Y/N, and when they do, they’re not going to be that sloppy. They may drug you. They may knock you out. They could do a number of things but your chances of getting way again would be extraordinary. I love ya and I’ll always protect you. But next time, I might not be able to stop something bad from happening. You alone over there...I wouldn’t know until it’s too late.”

You were quiet, playing with the tea bag in your drink as he drank from his own mug.

“I don’t want a stranger coming into my home,” you said.

“Y/N, Gen and I want you to stay here for as long as you-”

“I meant a bodyguard, Jare. I don’t want somebody I don’t know to start coming into my life and controlling it.”

“I have a friend from my army days who does that kind of work. He’s between jobs at the moment. I’ll vouch for him,” he said.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice on this, are you,” you said.

“Gen and I are moving. A bigger place,” he said. “We think it’s a good idea if you had a change of scenery too.”

“You think she’s in danger too?”

“We don’t know but she’s five months pregnant. We don’t want to risk anything,” he said. “It’s just a thought.”

“Can...can I stay over here a few days? While I figure out what I want to do?” you asked.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N.”

Two Weeks Later

“I like the new place,” said Jared as he helped you carry in the last box. 

“It’s uh, a bit big,” you said. “But the owner wanted to sell fast and I wanted out of the other one fast so it worked out.”

“Seems like a lot of space for one person,” said the man walking in through the open front door. He was in a pair of dark jeans and a blazer, a tee shirt underneath. You stepped behind Jared but he chuckled. “Really Jare? Didn’t mention I’d be stopping by?”

“Y/N, this is my friend Jensen. I told you about him. You said you were interested in meeting him,” said Jared.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.

“Y/N please,” you said as you shook it.

“I prefer to keep things professional,” said Jensen. “It’s easier that way. So, this is the new place, hm? Which room will be mine?”

“There’s a guest suite over on the first floor you can use,” you said.

“Where’s the master?”

“Upstairs.”

“Preferably I’d like to be in a room closer to yours,” he said.

“Fine. Take the guest room upstairs,” you said. “This is just a test run remember.”

“My contract says this is a six month test run,” he said as he looked around. “I see you’re still moving in so perhaps we can go over some of our new procedures in the morning.”

“Sure,” you said. 

“I’ll move in my belongings then,” he said. “I don’t have much.”

“Mhm,” you said. He nodded and headed back outside, Jared catching the look you gave him.

“What?” he asked.

“He’s gonna be a joy to live with,” you muttered.

“He’s quiet until you get to know him. I wouldn’t have recommended him if I didn’t trust him. He’s saved my life before. I know he’ll have your back,” said Jared.

“Yeah,” you said, his phone going off. “Jared, go. I know you’re already late for the baby checkup.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I only have boxes left to unpack anyways. Go on. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you said. He gave you a wave on the way out, leaving you to stare at the pile of boxes sitting on your kitchen floor. You cracked your back and started to work, catching Jensen move in a few duffel bags of his own. He left and wandered around outside eventually, allowing you to try and get the essentials all stored away.

By the time it was seven, you were exhausted but your bedroom, bathroom and kitchen were all set up. You plopped down on the couch, closing your eyes. They blinked open when you felt a presence standing over you.

“I’ve done a review of the property. I’d like to have an upgraded security system installed tomorrow,” he said.

“Whatever. Just put it on the card my manager gave you,” you said.

“I’d also like to consider hiring an additional person to monitor the system at some point. They can be remotely based,” he said.

“Like I said, whatever,” you said, closing your eyes again.

“I assume I have access to use the kitchen as I desire,” he said.

“No smoking. No drugs. No random hookups you bring here and as long as you don’t bug me and stay away from my ice cream, we’ll be fine,” you said.

“I can agree to that. As long as you follow my rules, we’ll also be fine,” he said. You laughed and sat up, walking to the kitchen to find your phone. “Do you think that’s funny?”

“I think the fact you think you’re going to be making rules in my home that I paid for is very funny,” you said. You took the phone to check on the pizza and wings you ordered for yourself, Jensen walking over and stopping in front of you. “Can I help you?”

“You are paying me a very large sum of money to keep you safe. If you don’t listen to what I say then I can’t guarantee your safety,” he said.

“Let me get something clear. I’m doing this to appease my friends and manager. Do whatever you want around here but don’t start telling me how to live my life,” you said.

“I took this job as a favor,” he said, snatching your phone out of your hand and tossing it on the countertop behind him. You scowled and he walked forward, forcing you to back up until your back hit a wall.

“Dude, backoff.”

“Pretend I’m that man that tried to take you before. What do you do? Right here and now. What’s your plan?”

“I’m serious,” you said, trying to brush past him and getting a light shove into the wall for it. You glared at him but he held his ground, pushing you again when you moved.

“I’m serious. Tell me what your plan is. Better yet, show me,” he said. 

“I don’t care if you are Jared’s friend. I am this close to punching you. Move now.”

“I said show me.”

You narrowed your eyes and brought up your knee to hit him in the groin. He pushed it away before it connected though and you were off balance, Jensen grabbing you and yanking you away from the wall, putting you in a headlock and tugging your arms behind your back.

“Don’t go for the most obvious move in the world,” he said. “Now that didn’t go how you wanted it to. What’s the plan now?”

“Get off,” you growled, trying to stomp your foot down on his but he moved it back and kicked out your ankle, making you fall back against him. He picked you up and you started moving your legs, Jensen suddenly dropping you down onto the hardwood floor. You hit your knee and winced, a hand suddenly grabbing the back of your shirt. “Alright! I get the fucking point.”

“Do you?” he said, squatting down beside you. You tried pushing his hand away but it tightened and you tried throwing a punch, his grip almost too hard now and his free hand easily blocking the hit. “You have no plan. You’re too small and too weak to overpower someone. You can’t afford to have no plan. The thing is, when it’s real, you’ll be panicking and you’ll have no time at all to think of one.”

“Stop touching me unless you want me to call the cops on you,” you spat out. He moved his hand away and stood, staring back at you.

“You need to do what I tell you if you want to stay safe. I will teach you what to do if you’re in that situation for whatever reason. But the rules keep that situation from happening in the first place. Understand?” he said.

“Understand that you are fired as of now. Pack up your shit and get out of my house,” you said. You got to your feet and he raised an eyebrow. “I’m your boss and I can fire you whenever I want. Get out.”

“How on earth Jared is friends with a someone like you I will never understand,” he said. He headed upstairs and the doorbell rang. You forced a smile for the delivery guy and took your food back to the kitchen, digging in before Jensen was even tossing his first bag down the stairs. You rolled your eyes and were on your third slice by the time he was walking downstairs.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” you said. He shot you a dirty look, his head cocking as he set his bag down. “Oh now what?”

“You look really pale,” he said, walking over to you. “Your pupils are huge.”

“You know what else? You are so not as hot as you think you are,” you said, reaching for another piece of chicken before he smacked your hand. “You are this close to me calling...someone.”

Your head got dizzy for a second, Jensen grabbing your arms and setting you down on the ground.

“I feel funny,” you said, tipping over and resting against him. “Really, really funny.”

“You just got drugged,” he said, using his phone to dial a number. “No more takeout. Got it? Obviously this person knows you moved. I want to put someone at the house full time.”

“I’m gonna fall asleep now,” you said, shutting your eyes.

“No, nope, try to stay awake,” he said. You hummed and he grabbed your face. “Y/N. Try.”

“You’re really pretty for a grumpy grump,” you said.

“I thought I wasn’t hot. Just stay awake for me, Y/N,” he said.

Twenty minutes later you were in the ER with an IV in your arm and feeling a whole lot of crappy. Jensen said something to a doctor before he walked over to the stall you were in and stood by the bed.

“Hey. Police are at your house. Neighbor said they saw a silver pickup parked down the street. Seemed shady. It was gone by the time they got there,” he said.

“Course it was,” you mumbled.

“You more with it again?” he asked.

“Yeah. Feel really tired is all,” you said.

“Well I called your manager. He said he’d be here soon so I’m gonna head out,” he said.

“Huh?” you said, sitting up as he started to leave. “Wait.”

“Last I remember, you fired me. Nothing has changed,” he said. “Goodnight.”

“Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist, the effort taking more energy than you were anticipating. He didn’t shrug you off, instead gently setting your hand back in your lap and pushing you to lay back down.

“You should rest. There’s a cop outside the room,” he said.

“Stop. Just...sit down,” you said. He sighed but sat on the edge of the bed, raising an eyebrow. “How could somebody already know where I moved? Hardly anyone knows.”

“You rent a moving truck?” he asked.

“Yeah. Movers did the furniture,” you said. He shrugged and you shut your eyes. “The movers?”

“No, probably not them. But that truck probably has GPS for mileage tracking and if this person has your credit card info, they could figure it out,” he said. “The food thing probably happened back at the restaurant you ordered from. Somebody slips in the backdoor, puts some stuff on your food and slips back out.”

“What’s your suggestion?”

“I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Let’s pretend earlier didn’t happen. Please,” you said. “I can’t...I can’t be alone right now and something feels really off about this whole thing.”

“This whole thing has felt off the second Jared told me about it. Tonight just further proved that point,” he said.

“You were in the army longer than he was, right?”

“He decided to retire, go be a cop. I stayed in. Worked on a few more specialized skills a bit longer before I left and got in this line of work,” he said.

“I’m going to assume you know what you’re doing then.”

“Yeah. I know what I’m doing. I can’t guarantee anything but I can give you some pretty damn good odds,” he said. He stared at you for a moment and looked you over. “You’re smarter than the stereotypical actress I pegged you for.”

“It had to have been someone on my team or that’s close to me in order to know that I was moving,” you said. “Or else the person never would have known to look today.”

“Someone that knows your go to takeout place too. You need to be extremely careful about who you trust right now,” he said.

“I trust Jared and Gen,” you said.

“I trust the guy with my life. I’d trust him with yours. Gen is fiesty when you piss her off but you’re her best friend. They didn’t do this.”

“Your expert opinion, what’s my next move?” you asked. He rubbed the back of his neck and made a face. “Jensen.”

“Ideally? You go off grid. I mean off grid, off grid. Middle of nowhere, no one knows where exactly. Cut yourself off and it’d give us more time to figure out who this person is and what exactly it is they want with you. If they’re as close as we think they are, they’ll find a way to sneak in again and next time, it might be my food that’s drugged. It’s a big risk to go back to the house.”

“I can’t go be alone though. What if they did find me somehow?” you asked.

“I said off grid. I didn’t say alone,” he said. “It’s an extreme approach, I’ll give you that. But it gives me more time to work on this and it’ll keep you safe.”

“Why not hire a bunch of guys to stay around me all the time?”

“Because you’re still in danger if you stay in LA and I don’t have the ability to check that many guys out. I got guys I know I can trust but they’re all over the country and the only other one here is Jared and Gen needs him. No offense but she’s got a kid with another on the way. More bodies means more priority,” he said.

“No, no. Please keep them safe too. If it’s a fan of the show, they could be in the same situation,” you said.

“I’m not going to try and tell you what to do because obviously, you weren’t a fan of me doing that before. But if you want to be able to sleep safely at night, we need to go, just you and me. Jared and Gen can know but that’s it and I mean that’s it. I can secure a safe place and everything we’ll need. But it’s going to be a drastic lifestyle change.”

“How drastic?”

“Like no internet and our electricity will run off a generator drastic.”

“If I stay here?”

“I give it a week tops before they try something again,” he said.

“We wrapped two weeks back and since Gen’s pregnant, we aren’t slated to start filming for another seven months. I’ll have to cancel some events but if I was ever going to go off grid, now’s the time to do it.”

“I will get it arranged. Do not speak a word of this to anyone,” he said.

“Jensen,” you said as he stood. “What was that back at the house? You acting all aggressive like that?”

“The last client I had, I was lenient, never taught them anything, let them push me around and dictate how I worked. They got put in a bad situation because of that. If you don’t take this seriously, then what’s the point of me being here.”

“Well wherever we go, I’m gonna need a few things. Women stuff,” you said.

“Make a list and tomorrow, pack a bag,” he said. “I want us on the road tomorrow night. I don’t care what you tell your team about why you’ll be MIA. Just tell them something so we don’t get a missing persons report on you.”

“Alright,” you said, Jensen nodding and starting to leave. “Wait. Where are you going?” 

“I need to start preparing. Like I said, there’s a police officer by the door.”

You stared at him and he took a deep breath.

“How about he stays in the room with you until we’re ready to go home and get what we need, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” you said.

“Hang tight. When you’re up for it, we’ll get out of here.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[intcngbles]

𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿   𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍   :    𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎   𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎   #𝟼𝟾𝟹𝟷   .    𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵   𝘰𝘳   𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴   ?

    eloise   was   perched   up   against   the   stand   in   which   her   desktop   computer  stood.   she   had   been   working   on   an   article   for   the   newspaper   for   what   felt   like   hours.   when   in   reality,   she   had   just   been   staring   at   the   blank   curser   blinking   at   her   for   about   ten   minutes.   her   boss   was   expecting   an   update   on   the   case   involving   crescent   shores   very   own.   but   how   could   she   possibly   delve   into   such   a   tragedy   when   she   was   still   trying   to   put   the   pieces   together   herself   ?   she   had   spent   weeks   trying   to   piece   together   any   information   that   she   could   get   her   small   dainty   fingers   on.   the   police   were   barely   giving   out   any   updated   information,   which   made   sense   since   this   was   an   on   going   missing   person’s   case.   she   sat   back   in   the   computer   chair,   her   coffee   in   hand   as   she   took   a   quick   swig   from   the   mug,   her   mind   wandering   onto   the   endless   possibilities   of   how   she   could   start   her   work.   but   those   thoughts   were   SOON   interrupted   by   the   faint   sound   of   her   broken   doorbell.

𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎   𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘎   .   𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎   𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘎   .   𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎   𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘎   .

  she   reached   for   the   door,   holding   her   coffee   cup   up   against   her   chest   as   she   peered   out   into   the   dreary   night.   she   instantly   noticed   that   it   was   the  town's   sheriff,   dressed   in   his   uniform   ---   only   meaning   one   thing,   he's  on  duty.   but   the   brunette   began   to   wonder   WHY   was   he   here   ?   so   she   did   what   any   skeptical   femme   would   do   ;  

❛  what   can   i   help   you   with   officer   rogers   ?   ❜    the   girl   questioned,   an   eyebrow   arching   as   she   was   genuinely   curious   as   to   why   an   officer   was   standing   at   her   door   step   in   the   first   place.

❛   just   here   to   ask   a   few   questions,   miss   jensen.  ❜    officer   rogers   reassured,   taking   out   a   notepad   to   take   notes   of   their   conversation.

eloise   nodded   sheepishly,   gesturing   for   him   to   step   inside   her   home.   as   the   two   walked   into   her   room   she   sat   at   the   table   taking   a   quick   sip   of   her   coffee.   she   knew   what   this   conversation   was   going   to   lead   too,   because   she   had   heard   from   a   few   people   that   the   sheriff   was   going   around   conducting   interviews.   but   what   she   was   confused   about   was   WHY  he   was   interviewing   her   ?    ❛    yes   of   course.  ❜   she   stated   simply.

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :   i   have   a   few   witnesses   that   have   come   up   stating   that   you   &   faye   no   longer   got   along  ?   can   you   explain   why   ?

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   faye   &   i   were   really   good   friends   in   high   school,   however   i   wouldn't   go   as   far   as   saying   that   we   no   longer   got   along.   we   just   aren't   friends   anymore.   we're   civil.   just   not   speaking   i   guess   ?

he   nods   swiftly,   taking   a   quick   note   of   what   she   had   just   stated.

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :      when   was   the   last   time   you   spoke   to   miss   nguyen   ?

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   oh   gosh,   it's   been   a   while.   i   think   the   last   time   i've   had   an   actual   conversation   with   her   was   a   few   months   ago   when   we   ran   into   each   other   at   the   mini   mart.   she   was   buying   a   bunch   of   groceries   for   a   party   she   was   throwing   for   a   friend   of   hers.   it   was   just   a   basic   conversation.  

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :      were   you   invited   to   this   said   party  ?

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   as   stated   before,   we   weren't   friends.   so   no,   i   was   not   invited.

again,   rogers   nods   before   bringing   the   pen   to   his   teeth   &   biting   down   on   the   cap,   obviously   frustrated   that   this   conversation   was   getting   him   absolutely   no   information.

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :     you   were   friends   with   miss   moore   correct   ?

eloise   takes   a   deep   breath,   her   heart   aching   at   her   name   being   brought   up.   because   yes,   she   was   still   acquainted   with   sybil.

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   yes   sir,   sybil   &   i   were   really   good   friends.  

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :      when   was   the   last   time   you   spoke   with   miss   moore   ?

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   the   night   before   she   went   missing,   we   were   making   plans   to   meet   up   &   get   some   coffee.   she   was   going   to   help   me   with   a   piece   i   was   writing.

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :      did   you   &   miss   moore   end   up   meeting   up   that   night   ?

she   heaved   a   sigh,   shaking   her   head   before   bringing   her   hands   to   her   hair,   straightening   it   out   as   she   grew   more   upset.

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   no,   i   couldn't   get   ahold   of   her   during   the   time   where   we   were   supposed   to   meet   up.   so   i   ended   up   going   into   work   &   just   working   on   the   piece   myself.

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :      what   were   you   writing   about   ?

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   a   piece   on   the   local   shelter,   i   wanted   to   showcase   the   available   animals   that   were   available   for   adoption.   she   was   going   to   help   me   out   by   answering   a   few   questions   as   she   had   adopted   an   animal   from   there   a   few   years   ago.  

he   begins   writing   in   his   notepad,   something   that   normally   would   annoy   her   but   she   understood   the   situation  &   understood   that   he   was   trying   to   get   to   the   bottom   of   the   missing   girls.

[   OFFICER   ROGERS   ]   :      when   was   the   last   time   you've   heard   from   any   of   the   girls   ?

[   ELOISE   JENSEN   ]   :   well,   i   honestly   can't   recall   hearing   from   tatum   ?   but   the   other's   we've   already   spoken   about.   it's   been   a   while   since   i've   heard   or   talked   to   any   of   them,   especially   with   them   being   missing   &   all.  

[   ROGERS   ]   :   thank   you   for   your   time,   miss   jensen.   i'll   be   back   if   i   have   any   further   questions.   have   yourself   a   wonderful   night.  

with   that,   officer   rogers   excused   himself   &   left   her   place   with   ease.  

[mandoalorian]

Pain Is For The Living [Javier Peña x F!Reader] - Chapter 2 (SMUT)

Summary: Sex work in the heat of 1980’s Colombia was never going to be a walk in the park. Especially not when you had a crush on your number one client, agent Javier Peña. You’d been warned about him and his reputation, but after one very specific incident that would change your life forever, you find yourself attached to him like never before and you’d do anything to make him yours. Even if it means endangering your own life.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT (protected p in v), allusions to sex, reader works in a brothel, PTSD, anxiety, panic attack, mention of drugs, guns, character death, typical Narcos themes.

Word count: 4000>

Pain Is For The Living Masterlist

*reblogs appreciated! Ko-Fi in bio if you want to support me!

The office was dead, like it had been for the last three weeks. No new leads. Nothing. The days dragged and honestly, it felt like the case was growing colder and colder. Escobar had gone completely off the grid, hiding out in La Catedral, his very own self-built prison in the depths of Medellín. But the DEA didn’t know that yet. So, they made an attempt to shift focus, at least just for now. After all, any narco they captured would be a win. They’d been tracing Juan Diego Diaz, otherwise known as La Quica, believing that the sicario would eventually lead them to Escobar himself. But La Quica was just as cunning as any other narco and following him was not an easy challenge. If it wasn’t for Steve Murphy, the DEA would’ve most likely shifted focus again - but Murphy and La Qucia went way back. In 1981, just a few years ago, La Quica shot dead Kevin Brady, Steve’s old partner back from Miami, and so to say that Steve had a personal feud against La Quica was an understatement.

Javier Peña didn’t realise he was about to gain a whole vendetta against him too.

Within a second, every phone in the damn embassy began to ring. Javier and his partner, Steve Murphy exchanged a glance, and their eyes trailed up to Horacio Carrillo who answered the call. “Colonel Carrillo,” he introduced himself. Javier and Steve watched as their colleague took in the information on the other end of the line. Carillo erratically gestured for a notepad and pen, and Steve quickly threw him one his way. “Wait, wait… are you sure? Are you sure you saw him? How many eyes? With another man? Who? Who?” Carillo pressed pencil to paper and began to scribble the details down. “How many dead?... Shit, okay. We’re on our way now.”

Carrillo slammed the phone down on the hook and took a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face in dismay. “We got eyes on La Quica,” he announced, and Steve immediately grabbed the handgun from his desk drawer and shoved it into his jeans. The whole office cheered, apart from Javier and Steve. This was good news considering the DEA had no lead whatsoever for the past three weeks, but if Carrillo’s demeanor over the phone was anything to go by, Javier and Steve knew they shouldn’t be celebrating just yet. “No. No,” Carrillo chanted, raising his voice in order to silence the rest of the department. “Three hookers. Dead. Shot.”

Javier froze up completely as he processed the words.

“By La Quica?” Steve beckoned, his voice dripping with venom.

“We don’t know. But we have eyes on him. He was seen.”

“Where?” Javier asked finally, his face expression stone cold.

Carrillo eyed Javier up and down, swallowing a nervous lump in his throat. He knew it was the brothel that Javier frequented...and Javier Peña was quite unpredictable. So, after taking a brief moment to prepare for Javier’s reaction, Carrillo finally gave the name of the location. “Desiderio.”

Desiderio. It was the brothel where you worked. His eyes flicked over to the wallclock before his gaze met back with Carrillo’s dark eyes. He had literally been there, with you, two hours ago. If he had just gone two hours later… he could’ve put a stop to the attack. Hell, he could’ve been the one to find an arrest La Quica. But Javier’s hero complex was short lived when all he could think about was you.

“Do we have names?” Javier asked. “Who was killed?”

What if it had been you? What would Javier do then? You were younger than the other girls, polite and bright eyed. You were brand new to Colombia, and Javier swore you were too good for the dangerous life you had managed to get yourself caught up in. Being a sex worker in 1980’s Bogotá? It was only a matter of time something happened to you. 

“No names,” Carrillo confirmed. “Peña, with all due respect, I ask that you go in and investigate the scene. You know the girls better than anyone else in the department. Maybe you could identify some of the bodies.”

It was like time was frozen, and Javier felt sick to his core. Javier was used to death and bloodshed; this was a war on drugs - however, it hit different when it was close to home. When it was a place he had been, or it was people who he knew.

Javier Peña was a complicated man. He didn’t talk about himself or his feelings. Truth be told, he didn’t even let himself feel. But right now, as anger swirled in his stomach, he decided he wasn’t going to waste anytime at all. He paced back over his desk and grabbed his handgun before bolting to the car that was already waiting outside for him. All eyes followed Javier’s movements but no one dared to make a comment. Apart from Bill Stechner, of course.

“Not everyday you see the department of drug enforcement’s noted womanizer get worked up over a whorehouse shooting,” Bill commented, a smug grin playing on his lips. “Didn’t think agent Peña had it in him.”

“Shut the fuck up Bill.” Steve rolled his eyes, not even bothering to humour the CIA agent’s out-of-pocket remark. Everyone in the district knew about Javier Peña’s reputation with the ladies. But of course, you were new.

“The Search Bloc and I will go after La Quica. Steve, you stay on the down low with agent Peña and investigate the crime scene. We’ll have guards protecting you from outside the brothel.”

“I want to go after La Quica.” Steve argued but Carrillo pointed a finger.

“No. You stay with Javi. Partners,” Carrillo reminded the blonde haired man. “Besides, you’re the DEA’s best photographer.” Carrillo smirked, thrusting a Polaroid camera into Steve’s chest. Steve let out a low grumble in response, before shaking his head and following Javier out of the office. Partners. And right now, Steve saw the primal glint in Javier’s eye. Agent Peña was seeing red.

As both Javier and Steve were being transported to Desiderio, Javier made an attempt to dial a number on the carphone multiple times. Your number. Of course it was a dead line. And that only worked up Javier more. The never ending ringing sound signified that you weren’t there, and Javier’s heart was pounding against his chest. It was the same kind of adrenaline as when he found Helena tortured by Gacha’s men in Medellín. Steve knew better than to ask his friend who he was so desperately trying to call, but it was the last of his instincts to assume it was one of the sex workers from the brothel. Because renowned womanizer Javier Peña didn’t form attachments, especially not to women, right?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

At some point or another, you had passed out. Maybe you’d cried yourself to the point of exhaustion. Maybe the reality of what you had seen had hit you like a ton of bricks and you had fainted. How could you possibly know? But when Javier and Steve stormed the lobby of your workplace, you were laying on top of Rosa’s body, as still as could be. And that’s when Javier’s heart sank.

You weren’t moving, and his mind shot to the worst possible outcome. He raced over to you and fell on his knees, dragging your body off Rosa and cradling you in his arms. You were absolutely saturated in your best friends blood, and by holding you, now Javier was too. He briefly glanced down at Rosa and placed a hand on her forehead, trying to feel for any sign of warmth -  any sign of life. Javi sighed and ran his hand through his dark locks of hair before bringing it back down to you. He cooed your name a few times, desperate to earn some sort of reaction. Thankfully, on the third calling, you stirred a little, indicating that you were in fact alive.

Your perfect eyes fluttered open and in that moment, Javi swore his heart stopped. Thank God you were breathing. “You’re safe now,” Javier whispered. “I’ve got you.”

“Javi?” you asked in disbelief. Surely not. The way he was holding you was the most affectionate he’d ever been with you, and it felt like a dream. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe you were dead and this was your journey to the afterlife. God was finally giving you a chance with the one you loved so much. You said his name again, raising a shaky hand to cup his cheek. You brushed your thumb over his jaw and along his mustache, and when you smelt his familiar musky cologne, you knew you were somehow going to be okay.

Javier picked you up and carried you back to the car. “We have a survivor!”

Steve replied but to you it was just a haze. You could hardly keep your eyes open and when you did, everything was a blur. Your clothes were stuck to your skin, due to the mixture of blood, sweat and tears. You knew the second you were outside because the orange setting son burned against your skin. You stirred and mumbled, but Javier smoothed out your hair and hushed you. He opened the back seat of the DEA car and lay you down.

“Hey, hey listen, I’m DEA,” Javier whispered. “I don’t talk about it, but I’m here to help you. I need to head back inside now and help my partner out, but I won’t be long. I promise.” As Javier turned to leave, you grabbed his hand and he looked back at you.

“Please don’t go.” you sniffed, tears free falling down your cheeks.

And normally, Javier would’ve shrugged it off. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t just stick around you because you felt unsafe. They had counsellor’s back at the embassy for that. All he had to do was use the carphone and call them out. It wouldn’t take him two minutes. The only problem was, Javier didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want anyone else to hold you and comfort you. He wanted it to be him.

So, he swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and slid into the back seat next to you. He maneuvered your body so your head was resting against his jean clad lap, and he continued to smooth out your hair. Despite your red puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks, you were still so beautiful.

“Hermosa, what happened back there?” he asked quietly after a moment. Between you and Javier, there was never an uncomfortable silence. It was his job to find out, but asking you straight up when you were so clearly traumatized, felt insensitive. Nevertheless, what else was there to say? He had to do it sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry.” Javier mused, closing his dark brown eyes as he mourned.

“They killed Rosa,” you whispered shakily, doing your absolute best to remain composed and not fall back into an abundance of tears. Javier looked out the car window and held back a sigh. Well, he knew they killed Rosa already. “And Juliet and Martzia.”

Javier didn’t know who Juliet and Martzia were, but his heart sank at the revelation. Three deaths that could’ve been stopped.

“La Quica,” you croaked, and Javier’s head snapped to face you. “Was his name. But there were two, I think.”

La Quica… that was the name Carrillo had come up with. It was who the DEA had spent so much time looking for. But two? That was the first he’d heard of it. Carrillo and the cop department only had eyes on La Quica.

“Do you know the name of the other man? Or what he looked like?”

You did. At one point, his name rang like bells in your ears. He was friends with Rosa, or so you had thought. You knew his name… you knew his face until suddenly you didn’t. You couldn’t make sense of it or understand it, but it was like everything that happened back there had just become a fuzzy blur. It still hurt so much but… you couldn’t match actions to faces, or names to bodies. All you could see was Rosa and her sacrifice. All you could see was the way her body fell to the ground, crumpled up in a pool of her own blood. And then the screams and cries.

“Are you okay?” Javier asked due to the delay in communication. Your mouth felt dry and your fingers felt numb. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, I can take you home, but the embassy is gonna want to interview you at some point in the near future. La Quica is dangerous, and I don’t know who this other guy is but I wouldn’t feel good about bringing you back to your apartment and leaving you there. I can send over additional security measures but, listen. I know you. And,” Javier took a deep breath not sure if he was about to regret the proposal. “If you’d prefer, you can come back to my place. Stay there for a few days. High security and you’ll be with me. Someone you know. I know that, if I was you, I wouldn’t wanna be alone right now.”

And for the very first time, your pretty plush lips curled into a smile. “You’d really do that for me?” You whimpered, nuzzling your face into his shirt.

“Of course.” Javier hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.

Was it unprofessional, inviting you over to live with him for the foreseeable future, the moment you had become an essential asset to the case? Yes. Fuck yes. But Javier Peña was not someone who played by the rules. He’d done this plenty of times before, when he shouldn’t have… but it was truly the right thing to do. Besides, you weren’t like any other informants. He knew you. He cared about you, more so than he’d like to admit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You were very sleepy, and you couldn’t bring yourself to talk all that much. Javier understood better than anyone. He helped you out the car, carried you through the embassy apartment complex, unlocked his door (albeit with great difficulty), threw his keys haphazardly on the kitchen counter and gently plopped you down on the brown leather couch. Pulled out a crocheted blanket, he wrapped it over you, ensuring your warmth. He padded into the kitchen and filled you a glass of tepid water before looking in the refrigerator. Empty. Javier didn’t cook. In fact, he rarely even ate. When he did eat, it was take-out or fast food. Something quick and easy that he didn’t have to bother with. But now he had company. He sighed, and closed the fridge, glancing back at your sleeping body. He figured he’d have to go grocery shopping.

He picked up the phone and dialled Steve’s number, but his wife, Connie was the one who picked up. “Hey Con, Steve there?”

“Yeah. But he’s pissed with you Javi.” Connie sighed on the other end of the line. Javier scowled. He understood. It seemed like he pissed off people quite easily.

“Could you put him on?”

Connie didn’t reply but judging from the scuffling, Javier assumed she was handing the phone to her husband.

“Javi,” (“Steve,”)

“What’s up?” (“I need to ask you a favour,”)

“After today’s stunt? Not a chance.” (“Y/N was a mess, Steve. One of her best friends died in the shoot-out. I wasn’t just going to leave her,”)

“Javier Peña. Ever the hero. What do you need?” (Groceries. She’s gonna be staying with me for a few days. I can use the time I spend with her to gain her trust. Try and work out what exactly went on,”)

“Javi, she’s vulnerable. She’ll need therapy. You really want to use her as an informant?” (We’ll get her therapy from the embassy. Steve, I don’t think we have any other choice.”)

“I just think it’s a bad idea, but, it’s your call Peña.” (“I’m going to head to the market before it closes. Can you or Connie come over to watch her? She’s asleep so she won’t be much trouble.”)

“We have Olivia.” (“So bring her. Or don’t. I don’t care. Steve, please.”)

Javier waited patiently through a silence followed by a long sigh. “Okay Jav, but you owe us. We’ll be over in five minutes.”

“Thanks Steve, I’ll see you soon.”

Javier put the phone down on the hook quietly and padded back over to the sofa where you slept, crouching down and taking your hand. You didn’t deserve this. You were so soft and full of life, and everytime Javier saw you at the brothel you were always beaming. You were too good for this life. He knew you’d get hurt, one of these days, but that didn’t mean it was right. And suddenly, Javier was filled with vengeance. He couldn’t bear to think how the shoot-out would come to affect you, but he knew, in that moment, he would seek justice. Too many deaths, too close to home. Javier whispered your name, his breath fanning over your ear. You were somewhere in between consciousness. You could feel his presence but everything felt so dream-like. “If you can hear me, I’m going to head to the store. Buy us some food, okay? I won’t be long, and I have friends who will be watching over you. You’ll be safe, I promise.” Javier said before pressing another kiss to your forehead. He just couldn’t resist it. You stirred upon feeling the bristle of his mustache graze your skin and he drew his face away, not wanting to wake you completely.

“Hi Liv,” Javi cooed, leaning down to Steve and Connie’s little girl and pulling a face.

“So that’s her?” Connie asked, putting Olivia down.

“Yeah,” Javier sighed, and began to introduce you.

“Why do I get the feeling that you know her?” Steve quirked an eyebrow and Javier felt his cheeks flush with heat. “Are you one of her regulars?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but yeah, I suppose I am,” Javier retorted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Con, if I’m gonna cook her dinner, what would you recommend?”

Connie stifled a laugh before turning to Steve. “Steve, you hungry? Javier’s offering to cook.”

“Hey that’s not what I meant--”

“He does owe us…” Steve smirked. “Paella sounds good.”

Fucking paella. 

“I could just bring her Taco Bell,” Javier considered out loud.

“I like paella.” Steve reiterated.

“Me too,” Connie agreed. “Paella is delicious.”

“Everyone likes paella.” Steve commented.

“Oh my god would you shut the fuck up about paella?” Javier groaned, causing Connie and Steve to laugh in unison. 

“Make her paella and bring us the leftovers,” Steve grinned, patting his friend on the shoulder. “And be quick about it.”

“Whatever, Murph.” Javier sighed, rolling his eyes before grabbing his wallet and car keys.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Seeing Nina working as the supermarket cashier was the last thing Javier expected.

“Javi?” she smiled that familiar gorgeous smile, her eyes sparkling as she scanned through the items of food. “It’s so good to see you. Been a while.” she commented, her gaze not leaving the agent’s once. 

And for the first time in a long while, Javier smiled. The stress of the stake-out and investigating the brothel, and taking you home had been a lot on him, but seeing his ex-girlfriend helped bring him back down to earth. If Nina could even be called ‘ex-girlfriend’. It wasn’t ever official, but he and Nina had been fucking on and off for around 6 months last summer and Javier was actually committed to Nina during that time. She came into his life unexpectedly, to say the least.

“How long have you worked here?” Javier charmed as he bagged the groceries.

“Two months, it’s been good to get out of the house,” Nina grinned. “You're still working for the DEA I assume?”

“Yeah.” Javier hummed, quickly reminding himself of you and the way you were sleeping on his sofa. He looked back up from the bag of rice and at Nina. Come to think of it, she resembled you quite a bit. Same hair colour, eye colour, skin tone… only she wasn’t as distinct. She didn’t have that flare about her, like you did. Maybe Javier had a type after all. 

“I get off work now,” Nina announced, flicking her wrist upright and checking the time on her watch. “Are you busy or? I was thinking… it would be nice to catch up, maybe, if you wanted.” Nina ducked her head down awkwardly.

Javier didn’t forget about you once. He didn’t forget about the fact he had a traumatized sex worker sleeping on his couch, or how he’d invited his partner and his partner’s family over to watch over you while he got ‘groceries’. But catching up with Nina would be nice. The right thing to do would be to reject Nina, and perhaps make plans to see her when Javier wasn’t so swamped with work commitments (if he could even call you that). But this was Javier Peña. He supposed Steve and Connie could wait just a little while longer, besides, they’d never find out. Javier was a good liar. He could make up some excuse about having to travel to a different grocery store or something. So, he agreed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Nina’s apartment had barely changed since she and Javier had ended things. Still quaint, decorated with plants in every corner and full bookshelves. It was a clash of tongues and teeth as Nina navigated inside of her home, not pulling away from Javier once. She moaned against his lips and he grabbed onto her back, pinning her against the wall and knocking a few things off the coffee table.

“Missed this,” Javier confessed, nudging his nose against Nina. In the moment, he’d forgotten why he’d ended things in the first place. Nina wrapped her hands in Javi’s dark hair and tugged on the locks at the nape of his neck. Javier groaned wantonly and reattached his lips to hers as she let her hands maneuver down his body, unbuttoning his shirt and working at the zipper of his jeans. “Fuck Ni.”

She pulled off him and began to discard her clothes. “Bedroom Javi, I have condoms.” she hummed, taking Javier’s hand and guiding him through her apartment as if he didn’t already know the way. He’d never forgotten, really. 

This was wrong. On so many levels, this was wrong. He should be back home, with you. If anyone was to find out about this… well, Steve would be furious, for a start. But Javier genuinely couldn’t stop thinking about you. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, because if he wanted to be with you so bad he could easily just go back to his place and sit with you on the couch. The idea of that wasn’t the worst in the world. But also, he was about to get laid by Nina who looked so much like you… he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He was whipped. Thinking about your lips on his… your hands caressing his muscles. She might have resembled you, but she tasted different, her voice was different, and her attitude. She just wasn’t you. 

Once Javi was all wrapped up, he pushed into Nina, and settled deep, his movements rough and fast. He grabbed onto her tits and gave them a squeeze, but they just didn’t feel like yours. They’d do though, for now. His grunts and her moans filled the room as she chanted his name, and he could feel himself nearing orgasm. He dipped his head in the crook of her neck, biting down on her skin that just wasn’t as soft as yours, and as his dick throbbed inside of Nina, and when he reached his climax, he made the biggest mistake of all.

He gasped your name like it was the sweetest prayer to leave his lips. He was fucking Nina but shit, he said your name.

Javier Peña said your name.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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[fandomfic-galore]

Lust at first sight

Pairing: Bucky x reader Warnings: swearing, kidnapping , being held captive

Word count: 1496

Square filled: taken captive for @star-spangled-bingo

Summary: Bucky has his eye on you and what Bucky wants, Bucky gets.

A/N: header by @geekandbooknerd betad by @firefly-in-darkness and @geekandbooknerd dividers by @firefly-in-darkness

Jolting awake Bucky gasped for breath, sweat forming on his forehead. Vampires didn’t dream like their human counterparts, but Bucky always knew he was a different breed of vampire. Images of his past lives kept flashing in his unconscious mind, the people he met in the war, the people he killed as the winter soldier. His mind never turned off, he was never able to rest.

His name carried a bad aura no matter where he went. In a haze of blood lust he became violent, a savage, he lost everyone who fought so hard to help rebuild his life. Now, he was trying to make amends, trying to not let the old Bucky come back to life. His shattered life was the only thing keeping him close to humanity, if he didn’t piece it together, the world may come crashing down.

Grabbing his notepad and pen he flipped through the pages, not caring if he received a paper cut. The gorgeous woman whom he once saw at a coffee shop was haunting his nightmares. He wanted to know more about her, he needed to know more.

The way her eyes sparkled even with a cloudy day made his heart skip a beat, if it was possible. The slight smile she gave when watching the world go by brought a warmth to him that he didn’t know was even possible anymore.

He had to know who she was.

Hanging his head low he walked the streets of New York trying to blend in. Every part of his body covered, he tried to avoid the sunlight, sometimes it was possible. When the sun peeked through the clouds, the rays stung as they  settled on his pale white skin. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, he had been through worse.

Looking up he saw the quaint little coffee shop that he had come to adore. Looking through the window he gasped, there she was. Sitting at the corner table facing out into the world, sipping a hot beverage slowly.

“Fuck” he whispered as he thought they locked eyes with each other. He wasn’t ready yet, he needed to know her better, get to understand her habits.

Walking into the cafe, he noticed the bell above the door didn’t catch the attention of the other patrons. Ordering his coffee, he sat on the table furthest away from her.

It seemed like hours that he was just sitting there watching her, admiring her from afar. Three coffees and a Victoria sponge cake later he was getting agitated. His leg bouncing under the table as he watched her stretch and hug her bag close to her body as she left the cafe.

Three people between them and a turn to the left, that’s how he stalked her. That’s the distance between the two of them for her not to notice him. Stopping at a crossroads with no one else around he knew it was now or never…

Y/n POV

Your eyes fluttered open slowly as your head was throbbing with an intense pain you had never felt before. Terror washed over your body, goosebumps erupting over your skin, at the realisation that you couldn’t see anything, you were in complete darkness.

“Hello” you called out, hoping someone was there, someone to help you. Raising your arm you tried to rub your eyes, a jingle of chains caught your attention. Tugging your arms in front of you, the chains yanked your arms back. Your legs started to shake in fear.

“Help, please, someone...anyone” you choked out. The dryness of your throat caught you off guard, the words trembled from your lips as a single tear rolled down your cheek. Bringing your legs up to your chest, you wanted to curl up in a ball. You hoped that this was all a horrible nightmare, that you’d wake up in your bed, wrapped up in your blankets and bathed in the streetlight through the window.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of a door, lifting your head a glimmer of light seeped through into the room. “Hello,” your voice trembled as you waited for the monster that lurked in the shadows.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the dark room as the figure approached, softly speaking“You’re awake.”

The voice sounded familiar, the warm tone to his tenor voice sent a chill down your spine.

“I brought you some food and water,” the person crouched down and a tray was pushed into your general direction.

Scrunching your nose up at the offering, your body froze with fear as you sensed the man get closer to you. A soft laugh falling from his lips but you kept your eyes trained on the ground with each approaching step he took.

“See, I’ve been watching you, for a couple of weeks now. You never noticed me, not once, but I couldn’t get you off my mind. I saw your face every time I’d eat, try to sleep,  take a shower. You’re always there. With your bright smile and that sparkle in your eye. So I said to myself, ‘Bucky, she’s yours, so take her.’.”

Tension filled the room, sucking a deep breath that you hadn’t been captured by just anyone. You’d been taken captive by Bucky. James Barnes. The Winter Soldier.

“What are you doing,” tears stinging your eyes as you try to finish your sentence “to do with me.” Your breathing quickened as possible outcomes flashed before your mind.

“Nothing yet baby doll,” you could hear the smirk creeping on his face.

A gust of wind swept across your face, you blinked as a light was turned on. Coming face to face with Bucky made you shiver, his ocean blue eyes held some hope. Hope you couldn’t understand.

“Please, just let me go,” you pleaded with the man, his jaw clenched as the words escaped your mouth, pushing your legs out. You tried to hide away from him, Bucky grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards him.

“Get some rest, you’re going to need it.” and in a blink of an eye, he vanished.

It seemed like days had passed since your conversation with Bucky. He would bring you food and water every now and again, but you refused it.

“If you’re not going to eat baby girl, I might just have to force you, and we both know you don’t want that,” turning your head you scoffed at Bucky.

“Try it,” you smirked at the super soldier, your words must have shocked him as he rolled his shoulders back and clenched his jaw. “Come on super soldier, try it.” You smirked.

Bucky strutted towards you with purpose, grabbing your jaw he tilted your head to look at him. Grabbing a fork full of food, Bucky licked his lips slowly. “Open up sweetheart because believe me it could be much worse,” you chuckled to yourself as he tried to force the fork in between your lips.

“Oh baby, stop!”

Bucky was stopped in his tracks, his eyes grew wide as the fork shook in his hands. You licked your lips slowly and stood up, Bucky's hand never leaving your jaw. “What’s the matter baby boy, cat got your tongue?”

Shaking off the chains that held you to a wall, you grabbed the wig that was making your head itch like crazy, the wig cap soon followed. Throwing it to the ground, and flexing your muscles now free from the restraints.

Bucky's mind caught up with the situation at hand. You smirked as you slightly pushed the super soldier away from your personal space, a raised eyebrow at his agape mouth

“Have you caught on yet?” You smirked and straightened out your clothes.

“You, you, did this,” Bucky stuttered, walking around the room you took your time marvelling how surprised the man before you was.

You sighed, huffing and folding your arms as you waited for him to say something, anything to get this situation over with.

“How can this be?” His voice was shaky as your eyes stalked up and down Bucky’s body.

“Bucky, I turned you over a year ago and you’ve done fucking nothing. So, I took it upon myself to test you. You see I’m your maker, my blood runs through your veins, you're instantly attracted to me, and I wanted to see how well you could...well, kill. But as a vampire, not the winter soldier.”

Bucky stepped back, your movements in sync as you followed until his back hit a wall. His face twisted in anguish as your body inched closer and closer.

“I can’t believe you were testing me?” He spat at you.

“I have to say though Bucky, you did fine but...you need to kill faster, don’t play with your food next time”

“I wasn’t playing with my food” He challenged you as he pushed your shoulders to get you away from him.

“Oh boohoo Sergeant Barnes, get a grip, you’re a vampire start acting like it!”

Taglist

Marvel @oneoftheprettynerds @geekandbooknerd @taintedgenre

Everything @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @foxyjwls007 @xoxabs88xox

[bridgyrose]

“Wait, you’re serious?” Ruby smiled a bit after finding out about Penny. “I thought I was going to be alone.”

Penny nodded nervously. “Normally I’d keep it a secret, but since you’re here anyway, its not like I can hide it.” 

“Dont worry, your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Thank you.” Penny sat down as she waited for her own appointment. “You’re going into robotics, right?” 

“Yeah.” Ruby started pulling her notepad out of her bag. “I’ve made a few rough sketches… well.. I guess sketches are a bit kind to call it. More like poked holes in the paper to make an outlined design.” 

Penny smiled and took the notepad to look at them before feeling where the holes were. “You know you could probably find something that’s easier to use for drafting your sketches.” 

“Normally I’d just use the voice input of a computer, but mine had a slight mishap with a fish tank a couple weeks ago.” 

“Well, if you need a new one, I’m sure we can get the school to provide one for you. And I’m sure Weiss-” 

Ruby frowned a little. “Weiss?” 

“Yeah. Her uncle is the headmaster. She could convince him to allow you a replacement laptop if it’s easier.” 

“I can do things on my own. I dont need help.” 

Penny watched as Ruby put her notepad away. “Right. That’s what the schools are supposed to do though, right? Help the Veiled as they need by offering guides, equipment, and programs to find a soulmate.” 

Ruby sighed. “Maybe I dont want the help and maybe I dont want to find my soulmate.” 

“But what if your soulmate wants to find you?” 

Ruby looked at Penny for a moment, hesitating. “Why do you care?” 

Penny shrugged. “Just a question.” 

Ruby sighed and grabbed her pack, digging through it again, still trying to keep up the lie that she couldnt see while around Penny. “Sorry, I guess I’m just a little on edge about things. Apparently Weiss is my soulmate. I wasnt exactly fond of the fact that she continued to try to push it.” 

“I guess that’s understandable. Although, I’m sure she just wants you to be happy.” 

“And I’m happy being by myself. Hell, the only reason I’m here is because my mom wants me to find my soulmate. Now that I have, I just want to spend the rest of my schooling by myself so I can focus on my classes.” 

Penny nodded a bit as she listened to Ruby. “You could always give her a chance though. Weiss just means well.” 

“You’ve… you’ve talked to Weiss about all of this before, havent you?” 

Penny hesitated for a moment as she realized what she said. “W-well… I mean, I’m just guessing-” 

Ruby pulled her white cane out of her bag and started walking off. “I’ll just reschedule my appointment. If all you’re going to do is try to convince me to go with her, I’m done here.” 

Penny sighed as she watched Ruby walk off, feeling a bit disappointed in herself. “There you go Pen, making things worse…”

Ruby grumbled a bit to herself as her vision started fading again. She quickly pulled out her scroll and started putting the school’s address back into it, making sure to put the sound up so she could hear the directions. “Great… I have two soulmates and both of them keep being weird about it…” She sighed as she heard her scroll start to ring once more. She looked at the name just as her vision faded, smiling a bit as she answered. “Jaune. Long time no talk.” 

“Hey Rubes, how’s everything going in Atlas?” asked Jaune. 

“Things… arent going so great.” 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“I...I dont even know where to start.” Ruby sighed and used her cane to find a bench so she could sit down and talk. “I get why my mom wanted me to come here but… I’m not so sure it’s the right choice.” 

“Dont worry, I’m sure things will start looking up for you soon.” Jaune smiled a bit. “We all miss you. Things arent quite the same without our little goofball to keep things sane.” 

Ruby chuckled a little bit at the thought of Jaune missing her. “Is Nora not keeping you busy enough?” 

“...right… you havent heard.” 

“Heard what?” 

Jaune sighed. “Nora and Ren moved back to Mistral.”

“Oh… When did that happen?” 

“The beginning of the school year.” 

“Oh. So I guess you’re alone then…” 

“Not completely. I did meet Pyrrha the other day.” Jaune’s voice started to sound a bit flustered as he thought about her. “I cant believe I finally met my soulmate. What about you? Figured out who yours is?” 

Ruby rolled her eyes a bit. “Unfortunately.” 

“So, what are you going to do about it?” 

“I’m… I’m not sure. They both seem to be acting weird about the whole soulmate thing and… I dont know, maybe Yang is right and this is all a phase and everything will finally click with me.” 

“Look, Rubes, you are who you are. Who cares if everyone else thinks it’s a phase? I mean, your family isnt exactly reliable on figuring out who you are. I know they all finally came around to you being trans, and they’ll come around to you not wanting to be in a relationship. Let them think it’s a phase until they realize that it’s really you. Then they’ll have to accept it. But you’re going to have to explain more on this “both soulmates” thing. You have two of them?” 

Ruby nodded. “Yeah, I do. Although, I’m not sure one of them realizes it yet.” 

Jaune paused for a moment. “Why not tell me what you know about them? You know, just to get things out in the air.” 

“Is that the real reason?” 

“Alright, maybe I’m a little interested in seeing who could possibly end up literally bringing sight to your world.” 

Ruby smiled a bit. “How about I get back to my dorm, and then I can tell you all about them.” 

“That’s more like the Ruby I know.” Jaune kicked back in his chair, leaning it as far as he could. “And then the real gossip can begin.” 

“Only if you tell me about this Pyrrha girl.” 

“Deal.” 

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

Weiss slumped onto her desk. “Well, we royally screwed that one up.” 

Penny hugged Weiss from behind. “It’s not the end of the world. We can still try to get to know her.” 

“You said she doesnt want to do anything with soulmates. Which means, she wants nothing to do with me.” 

“Maybe you could go talk to her and apologize.” 

Weiss sighed and sat up a bit. “Right… apologize. That’s… that’s not going to fix this.” 

“But it’s a start,” Penny replied. She pulled away from Weiss for a moment, smiling at her. “It might not fix anything, but it’ll at least let her know that you want to try to figure things out. She might not want to do anything about soulmates right now, but that doesnt mean we can just be her friends.” 

Weiss nodded, listening to everything Penny was saying. “Okay, you have a bit of a point. I’ll go talk to her tomorrow after classes end and start apologizing.” 

Penny kissed her. “Everything will work out for you.” 

“I know. I’m just worried I’ll be rejected.” 

“So what if you are? You still have me.”

Weiss smiled and pressed into Penny. “You’re right. I still have you.” 

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 1: “Who keeps hanging all this damn mistletoe everywhere?”- Poe Dameron

A/N: It’s here! It’s here! The 12 days of Christmas writing challenge has begun! Everyday up until Christmas day I will post a new story! All the prompts have been requested! Thank you so much for reblogging, commenting, and liking! 

This was requested by @poedameronloverx​ I hope you enjoy it! 

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + for language 

Taglist: @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie 

My Masterlist 

12 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge Masterlist 

During the middle of a war is not the most ideal time to celebrate the holidays. War doesn’t stop just because you hang some lights. The resistance was a depressing place to be at the moment. Small incursions resulting in heavy losses, the lack of new intelligence, and the overhanging threat of the First Order dampened the season. 

Although some never gave up it was becoming harder and harder not to be pulled under the cloud of hopelessness. Poe Dameron was not one of these people. Poe never gave up hope even when things had become desperate. BB-8 faithfully rolling by his side, the two of them went around spreading cheer around the base. They started with the decorations. Large garlands made from the forest leaves outside strung together with white lights and bright orange bows tied together from old flight suits. How they managed to hang them that high you had no idea, and frankly didn’t want too. Then came the music, classic songs from eons past filtered through the comms during missions, in the mess hall, and even the cantina. The atmosphere began to shift around base as the colorful decorations and music began to lift their spirits. 

The third step of their plan began the week before Life Day. A strange green plant with white berries began appearing. In doorways around the base the plant appeared. 

“What the hell is all this stuff?” you said aloud to yourself. 

“Mistletoe,” Jess snaps you from your thoughts and you turn to her questioning. 

“What the hell is mistletoe?” 

“Mistletoe is the common name for obligate hemiparasitic plants in the order Santalales. They are attached to their host tree or shrub by a structure called the haustorium, through which they extract water and nutrients from the host plant, very toxic. Although in the custom of Life Day they are used as a decoration under which lovers are expected to kiss. A most strange custom,” you and Jess both turn slowly to see 3PO standing behind you pointing his gleaming arm toward the plant. 

“So you're telling me someone put a toxic plant all over the base so that people would be forced to kiss each other?” 

“Precisely,” 3PO says cheerfully. 

“Right,” you nod sarcastically, “perfect.” 

“I think it’s kind of romantic. Who are you hoping to kiss?” Jess sighs. 

“No one,” you scoff. 

“Not even....Poe?” she wiggles her eyebrows and nudges you with her elbow playfully. 

“No way, the poster boy for the resistance doesn’t even know I exist...I think the existence of the other person is probably the first step of getting someone to kiss you.” 

“Don’t you hang out with BB-8 all the time?” she teases. 

“Yes, BB-8 assists me with my work on the ships but I’ve never really spoken to Dameron before. Sure, a word here or there but he doesn’t really notice me I’m just a mechanic. Plus I am waiting for a special person to kiss me on Life Day this year,” you start walking toward the mess hall, Jess following alongside. 

“You mean your secret admirer?” she coos giggling. 

“As a matter of fact, yes. They promised that during the week before Life Day they would leave me some more hints around base and then reveal themselves on the big day. But I haven’t received anything in two weeks...with all those casualties last week...I think my secret admirer might be gone.” The darkness hanging overhead seeps into your bones and you rub your eyes in exhaustion. 

“I wouldn’t be too quick to write them off. Maybe they are just waiting for the right time...like right now.” She points to your usual table in the mess hall overflowing with bright white and orange daisies. 

You walk in a trance toward the table and see your name scrawled on the cover of an envelope. You tear it open and devour the words, holding the letter tight to your chest you sigh. They’re alright, you thank the maker and ask Jess for help carrying the daisies to your work station. Trying to ignore the murmuring crowd around the table. It takes three trips but finally your workstation is overflowing in the colorful flowers, their sweet scent permeating the air. You inhale and smile still clutching the note. Jess walks over smiling patting your shoulder and giving you a one armed hug before going off to work. You look down and let your eyes flow over the note again. 

Hello Gorgeous, 

I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks. With the recent losses we have faced I have been busier than usual. These past few months of exchanging letters with you have been some of the happiest in my life. I can’t wait to finally meet you and reveal myself to you on Life Day. I hope these flowers bring a smile to your face as bright as mine was picking them for you. 

All yours, 

Your secret admirer 

You look around again at the sheer number of flowers covering every space of your workplace, and laugh imagining them picking each one special. Tucking the note safely into the pocket of your jumpsuit you get started working on the x-wings. By the end of the day you are starving from skipping lunch and exhausted. You take a sniff and wince at the sharp smell of engine oil and grease soaked into your skin. 

In the mess hall it’s late not many people are still up but they are luckily still serving food. Although it’s debatable what the resistance is serving can be called such. You poke hesitantly at the food and pull your notepad from your bag penning a response back to your secret admirer. 

Hi,  I’ve been so worried that you may have been one of those casualties that my heart melted when I saw my name on the envelope. You have spoiled me with the sheer number of flowers, and they smell so sweet. I have missed your letters and can’t wait for Life Day when we can finally meet.  All yours,  Your secret admirer 

You tear the paper off and fold it up before finishing the meal. You yawn as you take the long way home and pass your spot. You pull at the loose brick in the wall and place the letter inside before going back to your room for the night. 

The next morning, the sun streams through the small window of your room. Your roommate is already gone for the morning so you take your time in the fresher and pull on a fresh jumpsuit before grabbing a nutrition bar and leaving. When you get to your workshop BB-8 is waiting. The droid quickly became your friend when you first arrived several months ago as a transfer. He was great company on the larger projects around base. 

“Are you here to help me out?” you greet the droid dropping to a knee. He beeps happily back to you and you grin back at him. 

“So this is where my droid spends his day?” The voice behind you startles you and you rise quickly tripping over a canister on the ground. You feel the ground quickly come up to meet your back when you're flipped and land solidly on the chest of Poe Dameron.

“Are you okay?” he runs his hands over your head. You look into his deep brown eyes nodding. “Damn, I...I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Your brain just suddenly realizes that you’re still laying on top of him and scramble to get up, brushing yourself off and clearing your throat, “Oh uhm, thank you for catching me Commander.” 

“Poe,” he instantly corrects, and you say his name causing a smile to break out across his cheeks, “As I was saying, I wanted to meet the mechanic that has my droid making heart eyes,” he teases making you blush. 

“Oh...BB-8 is a wonderful droid. I am lucky enough to have him help me out,” you avoid eye contact, attempting not to make a complete fool out of yourself. 

“He speaks very highly of you, and I can see why,” he grins. You're sure at this point you must be the color of a tomato when he takes another step toward you taking your hand gently, and bringing it up to his lips. “I hope to see you again, very soon.” He places a gentle kiss on your knuckles and smiles before leaving. 

When he is gone you sigh and look down at the droid who quickly opens a compartment and lights the flame into the form of a thumbs up causing you to giggle. “Not the smoothest interaction I’ve ever had buddy but thanks for the support.” 

The rest of the week is a flurry of activity around the base as everyone tries to complete their work ahead of schedule for the Life Day celebration. The days are long in your workshop but luckily a steady stream of notes between you and your secret admirer make the days seem to go by quicker. 

Until the day finally arrives. The base while still maintaining itself is mostly run by droids today as people make their way over to the mess hall for the festivities. You check yourself over in the mirror again, smoothing out any wrinkles in your green dress, and placing the white snowflake hair-clip in place. Satisfied with your appearance you head off to your spot to check for any notes. Pulling the stone away and giving a slight squeal at the paper stuck inside. 

Today’s the day we finally meet. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and tell you how I feel about you. Meet me under the mistletoe.  All yours,  Your secret admirer 

You tuck the note into the pocket of your dress and race off to the mess, linking arms with Jessika as you pass her in the hallway and all but dragging her to the room. Your breath catches as you arrive. The room illuminates with twinkle lights in white, red, and green. Large candles are flickering in the center of the tables, and the room smells heavenly of tip yip and roasted vegetables. But one thing stands out amongst it all and your heart sinks. 

“Who keeps hanging all this damn mistletoe everywhere?!” Jessika asks, walking toward the buffet line. 

Everywhere you look sprigs of mistletoe hang. From the ceiling, the doorway, and everywhere in between. How the hell were you going to find your secret admirer now!? Jess shouts over to join her and you reluctantly do. The Life day celebration is a blast. People playing games, exchanging gifts, and the liquor flowing freely. You could almost forget for a minute we were in a war. 

The night slowly starts to wind down and you feel even more heartbroken as you start to pack up your small gifts from friends when BB-8 crashes into your side. Beeping hysterically. 

“What buddy, slow down! Poe...Poe WHAT?!” you shout and several heads turn to look at you as you follow the droid who is racing from the room. You run as fast as you can to keep up and when you turn into the hangar your steps falter. Standing under the open bay doors in a colorful sweater with BB-8 sewn on it is Poe Dameron smiling broadly. 

“What...what’s going on?” you stammer, “BB-8 said you were hurt, that you needed help…” 

“I wanted to get you alone,” he reaches for your hand and pulls you closer until you're standing directly in front of him. 

“Poe...what?” he sticks one finger up and points, your head tilting up to look above you and seeing the mistletoe hanging from the open bay doors. Your blood pounds in your ears and your lips turn up into a small smile and your voice gets very quiet, “It’s you.” 

“It’s me...are...are you disappointed?” he’s surprisingly shy and you shake your head no quickly stepping closer. 

“No...not at all...I...I wanted it to be you,” you whisper and his smile is almost blinding. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“I would be disappointed if you didn’t,” you match his smile and he leans forward capturing your lips with his own. He’s warm and soft and tastes like peppermint and chocolate and you sigh opening your mouth to his. You’re so caught up in the moment that the shrill beeps of BB-8 capture you both by surprise, and Poe holds you close in his arms as you both smile down at the droid. 

BB-8 beeps at you happily and Poe nods laughing before kissing you again, “Yeah buddy, happy Life day to you too.” 

[supernatural-jackles]

Owe You One - Part 4

Title: Owe You One - Jefferson’s Starship

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 7,067

Warnings: Minor Angst, Sexual Harassment, Self-Loathing, Anxiety, Fluff, Smut, Friends with Benefits

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Squares Filled: Bartender!AU ( @spndeanbingo) FWB Relationship ( @spnfluffbingo)

A/N: Part 4!! I hope y’all enjoy this part!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! Happy reading!!  

 You stirred away at the pot you had on the stove, getting dinner ready for yourself. It was Friday night, and you had just gotten home from work about half an hour ago. You changed into your comfortable pyjamas before deciding to cook yourself a nice dinner. You were going to curl up on the couch for a little while and maybe turn in early. You had nothing extensive planned. Nothing but your PVR and previous episodes of The Walking Dead to catch up on.

 You reached for a bowl in the cupboard next to you, placing it on the counter before pouring your pasta into it. You heard three loud knocks at your door, pulling you from your meal for a moment. You placed it back down on the stove before heading over to the door, opening it up. You rolled your eyes with a smile when you found Dean standing there with a smile playing on his lips. You walked away from the door, letting him walk in without protest.

 “You want something to eat? I made enough pasta for two,” you pointed out. “Four cheese.”

 “Oh fuck yes,” he nodded, taking a seat at your counter. You reached in the cupboard, grabbing another bowl before pouring some into it. You took two forks out of the drawer, bringing Dean’s bowl over first before your own. You hopped on the chair next to him, looking forward to tasting your meal.

 “Thank you for this,” he smiled, taking a forkful.

 “You’re welcome,” you beamed, taking your own bite.

 “So what are you up to tonight?” he asked nonchalantly.

 “Stuff,” you answered smuggly. “What do you want?”

 “How do you know I want something?” he claimed, his voice went up half an octave.

 “Because you didn’t call or text before coming over tonight. You usually do if you just want to hang out for the night. So I’ll ask again, what do you want, Winchester?” you chuckled.

 “Okay, I have a huge favour to ask and seen as how you’re wearing your cute comfy pyjamas, I know you aren’t doing anything tonight. I also know for a damn fact that you would never let any guy see you in those so you’re not getting laid tonight.”

 “Thank you! I get the point,” you scoffed playfully, taking another bite.

 “I need help at the bar tonight. Sammy’s gonna be late and all I’ve got is Benny. You’re the only one that I can trust,” he stated. “I’ll pay you, of course. And whatever tips you make are yours.”

 “So you want me to bartend at Jefferson’s Starship tonight and I get paid?” you chuckled. “Actual money?”

 “What, you think I’m going to pay you in sex again?” he laughed, shaking his head. “‘Cause I can if you want me to. A little touchy touchy-”

 “Shut up, Dean,” you giggled, shoving him a little. “How late do I have to stay?”

 “Just until Sam gets in,” he assured you. “Not all night.”

 “Alright, let me eat. Then I’ll go get changed. You’re lucky I like you,” you side-eyed him.

 “I owe you big time,” he breathed out in relief. “Like huge, sweetheart.”

 “I’ll take you up on it at some point,” you winked. “Really though, you don’t owe me anything. Remember, you helped me out of a very low point. That isn’t easy.”

 “I still owe you a little. You literally never go out to the bar,” he pointed out with a sad smile.

 “You are more than right. Remember that,” you winked. “How was your day anyways?”

 “Eh, it was okay. Pretty busy as usual. I kept to myself at my station. My dad worked on what he needed to do. I fixed up a couple of cars and got all my paperwork done so I don’t have to do any this weekend. Fresh start Monday morning,” he explained to you. “How was your day?”

 “It was okay. Boring as hell, but that’s my job for you,” you shrugged.

 “So you were going to use this time to unwind, huh?” he said sheepishly. You could see the guilt he felt sores across his features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

 “It’s okay, De. I should probably try to get out more anyways. Sitting at home alone isn’t going to do me any good,” you breathed out.

 “I mean, you’re not entirely wrong. Sometimes alone time is what you need. But in this case, you’re coming out. Not to mention, I own the bar,” he smirked.

 “Yeah yeah,” you tried not to smile.

 You managed to eat your pasta in record time. You figured you’d do the dishes in the morning after your breakfast. You knew Dean had to be there soon, and you didn’t want to leave him or Benny screwed. This was a job for you and you were going to work with professionalism.

 You grabbed something comfortable and presentable to wear to the bar. A pair of dark skinny jeans with a rip in the knee. You pulled on one of your white shirts and threw one of your red flannels over it to keep with the Winchester look. After that, you grabbed your comfortable boots and your bag, heading out the door with Dean by your side.

 Dean opened up your door for you and you slipped inside. There was a part of you that wondered if this was a good idea. After all, he and his brother owned this bar; his family. Last you knew, his family hated you. All but Dean. You didn’t want Sam to walk in and kick you out or worse, yell at you in front of everyone. You didn’t want to ruin their business. This was important to both of them because they started it together. You weren’t going to be the one to come between them. You were simply going to help your friend out and go on your way home. If Dean wanted to join you later, that was fine. But you weren’t supposed to mix business with pleasure.

 Dean parked in his designated spot out the back of the bar. There was a spot for him and a spot for Sam. No one else had access to park back here. You kicked your door open, circling around the car to the front. Dean motioned for you to follow him to the doors around the front of the building.

 The second you walked into the empty bar, you smiled to yourself. This bar wasn’t like any of the bars you had been in and you had been in many of them during your college days. They wanted their place to feel like home in some sense. There was a jukebox in the corner that played only classic rock. Lots of room for people to dance. Enough tables for people to sit. Booths for those who had bigger groups. Couches and chairs set up around the tv. By the actual bar, he had stools set up all around and a tv up on the wall so people could watch from there. He had all his liquor on display and coasters stacked, ready to go. All his glassware was branded with the bar's name, and a cowboy hat. This place was something to be really proud of, that was for certain.

 “Well well, look who it is,” Benny smiled. “I’ll be damned if it isn’t miss Y/N walking in for the first time in forever.”

 “Hi Benny,” you grinned

 “Hiya darlin,” he beamed. “What can I get for you tonight?”

 “I’m working tonight,” you told him, circling around the back of the bar. “Boss needed and extra set of hands.”

 “If you need help with anything, Y/N, just let one of us know. I know you know what you’re doing,” Dean nodded.

 “You’re damn right I do,” you said confidently. You grabbed an apron from the shelf beneath the cash register. You had a notepad, a pen and a cloth in there, ready to get to work. It had been a long time since you had stepped foot behind a bar, but you were sure you were going to snap right back into it pretty quickly. “Let’s do this.”

 It wasn’t long before people flooded into the bar. Some people just getting off work, having a drink to wind down. Others coming in in groups. The three of you worked in a perfect sync with one another. Pouring and mixing drinks the fastest you could get them to the customers in a timely manner. In record time, you had about fifty dollars in tips. The night was just getting started.

 You glanced around the room as soon as the first rush died out. Everyone was distracted in some way. A group of guys watching a game on the couch by the tv. A few women sitting at a table, gossiping about their week and their husbands. Then there was a few loners sitting at the bar, sipping away at a beer or a glass of whiskey. Trying to unwind after the week. You wiped down the counter top.

 “Hey there,” a man greeted you, taking a seat at the counter right in front of you. His smile was wide as he placed his hands on the countertop.

 “What can I get for you?” you asked, taking a deep breath as you tucked your cloth back in your apron.

 “Your phone number for starters,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice. You wanted to scoff but you were working. You weren’t about to ruin Dean’s business because some guy decided to hit on you. Not to mention, he wasn’t that cute. A man like him would be just like the rest of them. They’d get off and you’d be left finishing yourself off in the shower. You weren’t doing that again.

 “Your drink order, sir?” you corrected him, trying to keep your tone in check.

 “Whiskey neat,” he stated. “And that phone number.”

 “Whiskey it is,” you declared, putting the glass down on the napkin in front of him. You reached for the bottle of whiskey behind you, knowing full well he was staring at your ass. He was treating you like you were easy and that wasn’t okay with you. You weren’t doing that anymore. No more shitty guys.

 “Don’t play hard to get, baby,” he frowned. “I saw you eyeing me the second I walked in here tonight.”

 “Enjoy your drink,” you said, your voice void of all emotions. You walked away from him, taking your cloth once more before heading out to the customers area to begin cleaning up empty glasses and bottles. Dean and Benny were still working behind the counter, serving people. It had slowed down a little more. They still had the odd person come up to them.

 You wiped down every table, gathering all the empties. You snapped back into bartender mode pretty quickly. It was something you had done for years during your college years. Dean ran a really nice bar. Everything was really clean, but you also had a feeling that his brother had something to do with it. You took note of what needed replenishing to bring it out during your next trip. You gathered up what you could, placing it on the bar to move to the back when you had the chance to. You wiped down your last table before heading to the back. You could feel the creepy guy’s eyes on you and that told you to move quicker.

 “Baby c’mere,” he cooed, standing up. Your heart began to pound in your chest. You needed to move quickly.

 “Not interested,” you stated clearly, backing away from him. He was a big guy now that you saw him compared to you. He was tall and had a strong build. His hand made its way down to your ass, tugging you into him against your will. You tried your hardest to shove him off of you, but he barely budged. “Get off of me!”

 “Hey! Hey!” Dean shouted, making his way around the bar. “Hands off of her. Now!”

 “We were just getting to know each other, right baby?” He smirked, tugging you in once more. Hearing him say those words only angered you more.

 You pushed him once more, successfully getting him off of you, but not getting as far as you would have liked. “Get the fuck off of me.”

 Dean stepped between you and the douchebag, getting in his face a little more. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched that he was pissed. When Dean was pissed, no one wanted to be near him.

 “House rules. Respecting others, especially women is the second on that list. Sexual harassment is unacceptable. Get the fuck out of my bar,” he warned him, “I’m not going to ask you again.”

 “Whatever, she’s a cheap piece of ass anyways,” he scoffed, throwing down a bill on the counter before grabbing his jacket, heading to the door.

 “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned to face you. His hand came up to the side of your head.

 “Yeah,” you nodded.

 “You want a drink,” he offered you, smiling softly.

 “No thank you. I’m good,” you smiled before heading around the back of the bar to finish cleaning up. You also knew you’d be safer behind the bar and that was where you wanted to be.

 “You sure, darlin’?” Benny raised his eyebrow. “I can make you a mean drink.”

 “I’m sure. I don’t drink,” you stated, placing the empty bottles in the bin.

 “Since when?” Dean furrowed his brows. “We got drunk together a few months back.”

 “Since whenever,” you shrugged.

 “I feel like there is more behind this then you’re leading on,” Benny side-eyed you with a bit of concern.

 “There is, but we’re dropping this now, okay?” you smiled, heading over to the counter to serve the next customer.

 As you handed the customer their drink, Sam walked into the bar. His hair was a bit of a mess and he looked to be in a bit of a rush. You stiffened a little. After all, Sam had to know all about you now. His mom had to have said something to him. He had always been nice to you, but that was back then. There was a whole other side to you and your family now. Sure, Sam was nice, but he wasn’t going to be happy you were here if he knew anything.

 “Hey,” Dean greeted his brother. “How’d it go?”

 “Good,” he smiled to himself. “Place is picked out and booked. We officially have a date.”

 “Don’t leave me in suspense, Sammy. Wedding date now,” Dean chuckled, wiping down a glass.

 “September 15th,” he grinned widely, reaching his hand up to the back of his head.

 “I’ll save the date,” he nodded with a big smile. “Congratulations, little brother!”

 “Thanks, De,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

 You stood behind the bar awkwardly, not knowing if you should say something, or go do something else. You didn’t want to be in the way of him. This was his business too. You pulled your cloth back out, and decided to head back out to the floor to wipe down the tables again.  

 “Dean, what is she doing here?” you heard Sam say.

 “She’s helping us out because I asked her to,” Dean stated.

 “Dean, you know-”

 “Sam-”

 “No Dean, if mom or dad was to walk in right now, you’d be in so much shit,” he stated. That was your queue. You weren’t welcomed and you weren’t going to ruin a family business. You had no idea why you even agreed to in the first place. Mary told you that you were never going to be good enough for her family. Why did you think you’d be good enough to work at her son’s bar?

 “Sorry,” you breathed out, as you untied your apron. “I’m- I’m gonna go, Dean. I don’t want to ruin your business or your relationship with your family. You don’t have to pay me for tonight.”

 “Y/N, wait,” Dean called out as you began to walk away.

 “Dean, it’s cool,” you nodded, assuring him it was.

 “No, it’s not cool, Y/N. I invited you here tonight,” Dean declared, walking over to you. “My mom and dad don’t own this bar. Sammy and I do. I’ll tell you again. I don’t care who your mom is or was to my parents. I care about you and who you are to me. If Sammy has a problem with it, then he can stow it for tonight. You are welcome in this bar.” His hands made their way to your arms, holding you in place.

 “Dean, I’m not worth the trouble, okay?” you smiled weakly, pulling the few bills out of your pocket, handing them to him. “This is yours.”

 “No, they are yours. You earned them tonight. All tips are yours,” he stated.

 “Y/N, please stay,” Sam called out.

 “Please, sweetheart,” Dean pleaded, holding his hand out for you to take. “You’re off the clock. Just hang out with us for a little while. You said you needed to get out more.”

 “You want a drink Y/N?” Sam offered, grabbing a clean glass from beneath the counter.

 “Okay,” you nodded. “Water would be great.”

 “W-water?” Sam furrowed his brows.

 “She doesn’t drink,” Benny added in.

 “Ah, okay,” Sam nodded.

 You walked around the bar, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar. Sam placed a glass of water with a few ice cubes on the counter in front of you, giving you a soft smile. You knew he was trying to keep a smile on his face to keep you around for the night. It was forced at best.

 “So, no guy in your life right now, Y/N?” Benny questioned you. “You usually have someone-”

 “Nope, I don’t. Not right now,” you smiled at him, bringing your water up to your lips. Great, even Benny knew you got around, you thought to yourself.

 “You want someone? ‘Cause you know, I’m single and you’re-”

 “Benny, knock it off,” Dean warned him. “She doesn’t need another guy hitting on her tonight. House rules.”

 “What? ‘M I not good enough for you,” he teased playfully before serving the next customer.

 “You’re not my type,” you giggled. “My track record states that I only go for dicks. You’re a nice guy.”

 “So Y/N, I gotta ask,” Sam started, taking another stool, sitting close by. “I know you grew up with your mom-”

 “Sam,” Dean called out, his voice laced with a bit of anger.

 “It’s okay Dean,” you assured him.

 “Was it just you and your mom or was your dad ever around?” he questioned. You knew he was curious, and he didn’t seem to want to cause any harm to you. It was a simple question. Nothing you hadn’t been asked a hundred times before.

 “No. It was just me and my mom. I never knew my dad, in fact, I’ve never met him or know his name for that matter. My mom always told me he didn’t want anything to do with me and that was why he wasn’t around. He didn’t want me and that’s why it was the two of us. I have no idea who my dad is, or if he’s even alive at this point. I never knew anything about him,” you shared with him.

 “Were you ever curious?” Dean added in, stepping closer to you and Sam.

 “Yeah, of course I was. I grew up without a dad. The kids at school were terrible to me because I didn’t have one,” you began. “I mean, look at me now. I’m a mess ninety five percent of the time. I just wish my mom would’ve been straight with me. But at the same time, my mom slept around a lot. She had a new boyfriend every month. I doubt she even knew who my dad was.”

 “Do you think she was hiding it from you?” Sam brought up.

 “In some ways, yeah. I asked her when I was eighteen, before I left for college and she said there was no point. My dad was probably dead.”

 “If you ever wanted to find out more, Y/N, I’m sure I could do a little digging for you,” Sam offered you. It was a kind gesture but it wasn’t worth it.

 “I’m not worth that kind of trouble, Sam. I don’t want to cause any more issues with your family than I already have.”

 “Your mom’s issues weren’t your fault, sweetheart,” Dean reminded you.

 “Dean’s right, Y/N. What your mom did in the past has nothing to do with you. It bugs the hell out of my mom because you look like her. It’s still wrong that she treated you the way she did. You’re nothing like your mom,” Sam said with a sad smile. It was really nice to hear those words coming from Sam. Especially now that you were here. You didn’t want him to hate you like his family did.

 “Okay,” you breathed out. “I’m giving you the okay to take a look. It can’t hurt to find out my family history. And I’m curious as to what my mom hid from me all my life. But I don’t want to make any contact if we find out who it is.” In reality, it was probably good to find out in case you had a family history of cancer or something like that. It was too late now to ever have a father daughter relationship like you dreamed about when you were ten.

 “Deal. You are always welcome to change your mind later on, okay?”

 “Thank you,” you smiled softly at him. “Means a lot to me that you want to do this.”

 “Well well, look who decided to show up for work,” Dean greeted the two people as they walked in.

 “I thought you were short tonight, De?” you furrowed your brows.

 “Chuck and Cas work later so we can go home at a decent hour,” he told you. Both of them walked behind the bar, settling their stuff underneath the cash.

 “Hey,” a man with curly-ish hair greeted you. “I’m Chuck.”

 “Y/N,” you waved at him.

 “So uh, how you doin’?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

 “Chuck,” Dean warned him, shaking his head.

 “Oh shit, sorry. Is she your-”

 “No she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend,” he stated, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam. Dean was very protective over you, and you actually kind of liked that he was.

 “Oh god, that’s worse,” he breathed out sheepishly. “It was very nice to meet you, Y/N.”

 “You ready to head out, Y/N?” Dean offered with a smile.

 “God, yes please!” you beamed, hopping off your stool.

 “I’ll grab your number from Dean,” Sam nodded, giving you a wink. Dean grabbed his jacket as you circled around the bar for the last time. You couldn’t wait to go home and change into your pyjamas. You couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of your apartment so you could finally unwind for the night.

 Dean followed behind you as you lead the way to the impala. It was just after eleven when you looked at the clock in the impala as Dean started her up. It was a long night, and some parts of it sucked, but for the most part, you were glad you did it with Dean there. His friends were also nice people to be around so that certainly helped.

 “You did good tonight,” he smiled at you as he turned out of the parking lot.

 “What can I say, I’m an ex bartender,” you chuckled. “Thanks for asking me to come out tonight.”

 “You’re welcome,” he nodded.

 “If you’re up for it, you wanna hang out at my place for a bit?” you asked him. “Only if you want to.”

 “Yeah, I’d love to,” he agreed.

 It was almost eleven thirty by the time you arrived at your front door with the keys in your hand. Dean stood right behind you, keeping a close distance. You figured after that creepy guy at the bar tonight, he was keeping you close in case something was to happen. You really did enjoy how protective he was of you. He had been ever since that day the two of you made up. It was nice to have someone want to keep you safe from harms way.

 You threw your keys on the counter as soon as you walked in. Dean locked the door behind him and kicked off his shoes on the front mat. You leaped onto the couch, flopping down on your back, earning a laugh from your best friend.

 “Long night, huh?” he said as he sat down next to you.

 “Very! I love being hit on by creepy guys. It’s my favourite,” you joked, moving up to a sitting position to give him more room on the couch. Your couch was big enough for two people to sleep on, but Dean just had to sit close to you.

 “You used to enjoy guys like that,” he teased you.

 “Eh, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed them. I prefer guys with a little more respect. Not guys that grope my ass in a crowded bar while I’m working,” you breathed out. “I don’t know. Lately I haven’t been interested.”

 “In what?” he cocked his head to the side, looking over at you.

 “Dating. Men in general,” you shrugged, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Too much to focus on and I’m a mess most days.”

 “Not even sex for you?” he questioned.

 “Eh,” you smirked. “I’ve got my own ways of handling things in that department. It’s not like any of the guys I slept with before knew what they were doing. I’m just not wasting my time.”

 “Good,” he grinned. “You deserve better than that.”

 “What about you, Winchester? You’re nearly as bad as I am for taking random people home,” you pointed out.

 “Not as of recently,” he confessed, looking down at his hands. “Part of it is how busy I’ve been. No one has really caught my eye. Everyone these days are dating, and settling down. After Cassie, I don’t really want to date right now. Especially since she left things open for when she gets back.”

 “I don’t blame you,” you nodded. “Would you get back together with her if she were to show up at your door right now?”

 “Deep question there, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since we broke up. Not even an email. If she were to knock on my door, I don’t think I could just settle back in like nothing happened.”

 “That’s understandable,” you nodded. “At least you’ve moved on a little. We slept together.”

 “You’re the last person I slept with,” he admitted.

 “You’re my last too,” you nodded. “We’re doing awesome. Although, I certainly can’t complain. You were damn good. You kept up your end of the bargain beautifully.”

 “Well, technically I owe you one for tonight,” he joked with a smirk. “I know how to drive a good bargain.”

 “I’m down if you are,” you wiggled your eyebrows with a soft smile.

 “Actually?” he cocked his eyebrow.

 “What’s the harm?” you shrugged. “Not like we haven’t before.”

 “I’m definitely in if you are,” he nodded. “No pressure at all. Only if you want to.”

 “You’re too nice to me, you know that?” you smiled at him as you moved over. You threw your leg over his legs, settling down over his lap. His hands instantly reached for your waist as his eyes went wide.

 “I wouldn’t say nice,” he breathed out. “I just care ‘bout you is all.”

 “Well, thank you. I really appreciate that you care,” you smiled. “I care ‘bout you too.”

 “Alright, this is getting too chick flicky for my liking,” he stated, leaning forward. He captured your lips with his in a soft, heated kiss that had you instantly craving more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tugging yourself closer to him as your tongue slipped over his bottom lip.

 His hands reached beneath your flannel, pushing the material over your shoulders in record time. You had a feeling this was going to happen fast. It was late after all, and you both had been working since nine this morning. It was going to be a quickie at best and that was more than okay with you. A quick fix to make you both feel good and that would be enough to put you to sleep right away.

 “You’re sure about this?” Dean asked you, pulling away a little.

 “Yes, more than sure,” you breathed out, pushing his flannel over his shoulders. “No foreplay this time.”

 “Got it,” he nodded. “Just a quickie?”

 “Quickie then bed,” you smile at him.

 “Roger that,” he agreed, tugging the hem of your shirt up your body, throwing it to the floor. You did the exact same to his, tearing it off of him as quickly as you could. He bucked his hips up to yours, and you could feel the bulge of him already. The thought of having him once more sent heat pooling in your core.

 You climbed off of his lap, toying with the button on your jeans before shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Dean unbuckled his belt, making quick work of removing his jeans and boxers, pushing them down his legs. His hard cock standing proud between his legs. Fuck, was he perfect.

 “Condom?” you asked him.

 “Wallet,” he nodded, reaching down to his jeans, pulling out the leather pouch. He opened it up, taking the foil packet from his wallet. You stepped forward, straddling him as he opened the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out. You watched as he took his cock in his hand, rolling the condom down over himself. You reached behind your back, removing the final article of clothing from your body to reveal yourself to him once more.

 “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he smiled softly at you.

 “Dean,” you grinned, shaking your head.

 “You are,” he shrugged. “I like that I’m the one you went home with tonight after all the guys that hit on you.”

 “Thank you,” you half smiled. “You’re sexy as hell.”

 “Hell doesn’t sound all that sexy,” he teased you.

 “Shut up, Winchester,” you giggled. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

 “Please,” he chuckled.

 “Then ask me nicely,” you played, wanting to test him just a little.

 “Y/N, will you please let me put my dick inside you?” he let out a laugh, not able to keep a straight face through the entire sentence, making you laugh along with him.

 “I can’t believe you actually asked,” you cackled.

 “Shut up,” he shook his head, trying not to laugh more than he already had. “The things I do for you.”

 “Hey, the way to a girl’s heart is through humor, Winchester,” you pointed out.

 “Yeah yeah,” he scoffed. “Alright, I’m going to touch you now. Make sure you’re ready for me.”

 “By all means,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His right hand came down between your legs, his middle finger brushing through your folds to see if you were ready enough for him. You knew you were more than ready to take him. The mere sight of him had you ready to go. The kissing certainly helped you get there too. He was a damn good kisser.

 “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re sure?”

 “Yes,” you nodded. “You’re sure?”

 “I am,” he agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

 You balanced yourself on his shoulders, moving up his body to get ready. You reached one of your hands down, taking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. Your eyes met with his as you positioned the tip in place. He nodded his head, not daring to break the eye contact you held. You let yourself sync down on him, slow and steady. His eyes fluttered shut as you surrounded him in your heat.

 “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed out as he bottomed out inside you. You could feel him twitching a little as your walls grew accustomed to him. He finally opened his eyes, meeting yours as a smile played on his lips. He slipped his hands around your back, ready to help you move on him.

 “You feel amazing, De,” you told him, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his.

 You made yourself more comfortable before beginning to move on him. He repositioned himself beneath you, making it easier for you to ride him, and for him to meet you halfway. As you sank down on him, he thrusted upwards. His grip was tight on you, keeping you close to him. He felt amazing inside of you. Hell, almost better than he did the first time. From this angle, his cock brushed over all the sensitive spots, getting you there a little bit faster than you were expecting him to.

 His lips trailed on your neck, making your fingers curl in his shoulders. Your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. You brought your hand up to his hair, carding through his soft locks as you continued to bounce on him.

 “Shit Dean,” you cried out.

 “Feels so good,” he muttered, pulling away from your neck. “So close.”

 “Faster,” you urged him on.

 His hands slipped down to your ass, pulling you closer to him. He shifted quickly, your back hitting the couch as he fit between your legs. He snapped his hips against yours, picking up the pace to get you both there. One of his hands reached between your bodies, toying with your clit to heighten your pleasure.

 “Dean, Dean, Dean,” you moaned. Your grip tightened around his shoulders, desperate to grab onto something to keep you grounded. You were panting profusely. You felt the tightness growing in your abdomen. You were so damn close.

 “Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Let me feel you.”

 Your walls came crashing down around him as you let out a wanton moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you threw your head back, letting the pleasure course it’s way through your body. Your fingers curled into his back, trying to hold onto something to keep you from floating away. Your vision went white and your body began to shake just enough for you to notice.

 “Atta girl,” he encouraged you as he bucked his hips into yours. You knew he was damn close to the edge. He just needed that final push.

 “Feels so good, De,” you whispered, trailing your shaky hand up into his hair. “Come for me, Dean.”

 “Shit-” he growled, picking up his pace just a little more. He gave three hard thrusts before his cock twitched. His seed filling the condom before he collapsed on top of you, letting out a breath.

 Your hand carded through his hair, playing with his soft locks as you both came down from your highs. You turned your head, looking at the time on the clock above your tv. It was just after twelve fifteen. You knew you had to get up and get ready for bed.  

 “I just realized we did that with the curtains open,” you giggled, glancing over at the big open window.

 “Well shit,” he let out a laugh. “I hope they enjoyed the show.”

 “We should get up,” you told him. “Get ready for bed.”

 “Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting himself up. He reached down, grabbing the base of his cock to remove himself with care.

 You were the first one off the couch, leaving your clothes on the floor. You headed into your bedroom, going straight to the bathroom. Dean wasn’t far behind you, throwing the used condom into the trash in your bathroom.

 “Uh, you’re welcome to stay if you want to,” you offered him. “Or you can go, whichever you want to do.”

 “Whichever you’re more comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep,” he stated, taking a step back.

 “We literally just had sex,” you reminded him. “I don’t know what would even be considered overstepping at this point.”

 “True,” he chuckled.

 “Well, if you’d like to stay, there is an extra toothbrush in my drawer and boxers in the top drawer in my bedroom,” you told him with a soft smile. “I’m going to shower to get the smell of sex and alcohol off of me. If you want to do the same, you know where the towels are.”

 “Alright,” he nodded, turning towards the shower. You watched as he turned the nozzle, setting it on hot. “You shower first and I’ll clean up out there.

 Dean was out of the bathroom, giving you a bit of privacy. You shut the door a little, giving yourself the comfort of being alone to do what you needed to do. You went to the bathroom before slipping into the shower.

 The water was the perfect temperature for you to clean yourself up. You were just going to have a quick shower to wash your body. You could wash your hair in the morning. You just wanted to feel clean. You had the feeling Dean was staying with you tonight, and you weren’t against it persay. You didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. You weren’t looking for a relationship. You hoped it was just sex for him. That you could handle with ease. You didn’t want to do the whole ‘feelings’ thing. Not with your best friend. Sleepovers were normal for friends. Two friends could have sex without it being weird. There was nothing wrong with casual sex.

 You washed your body quickly. You could feel yourself getting more and more tired the more you stood under the stream. You just wanted to get out, brush your teeth and head to bed. Nothing more.

 The water shut off and you stepped out onto the mat you had set out. You wrapped your towel around yourself, making sure it was tight. The mirror was all steamy, and you could barely see. Not that it was going to stop you from brushing your teeth.

 “Dean, you’re good,” you called out, reaching for your toothbrush. The bathroom door opened, revealing Dean in his boxers and nothing else. He was quiet as he went about, gathering what he needed to shower. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes off of him while he moved around.

 He hopped in the shower as soon as you finished brushing your teeth. The mirror was just starting to clear when you turned away, giving Dean the privacy he deserved. You noticed as soon as you were in your bedroom that Dean had thrown your clothes in the laundry hamper. His clothes were set on the chair in the corner of your room, folded nicely.

 You grabbed the first pair of panties from your drawer, and an oversized shirt to wear to bed. You could feel yourself starting to overthink this. You didn’t want anything to change between you and Dean. You didn’t see him as anything other than your best friend. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want a boyfriend or a serious relationship for that matter. You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

 You got dressed quickly, throwing the comforter back, slipping beneath the sheets. You heard the water turn off, which meant it was only a matter of time before he was joining you in bed. You lay on your back, adjusting the covers over your chest.

 Dean emerged from the bathroom in a pair of clean boxers, shutting the light out. He circled around the bed, following the same steps. He joined you in the bed, resting on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

 “You tired?” he asked you.

 “Now that the lights are out, not really,” you chuckled. “You?”

 “No not really,” he let out a laugh. “That was fun.”

 “It was. And I’m not usually for being on top,” you admitted with a half smile.

 “Why this time?” he questioned, turning his head to look your direction.

 “I don’t know. I guess I feel a little more comfortable around you. I’m not as nervous about some things, like the way I look for example,” you confessed.

 “You’re beautiful,” he said with a laugh. “Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

 “What, like that?”

 “That. And sex in general,” he shrugged. “I’ve got what is probably not a good idea. But you said that you’re not looking to date anyone. I’m not ready to date anyone. We’re best friends and speaking from previous experiences one and two, sex is great between us. You’re comfortable with me, and I’m comfortable with you. Why don’t we continue sleeping together? You know, get each other off, try some new things?”

 “Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” you inquired, furrowing your brows.

 “Yeah I guess so,” he breathed out.

 “How is that going to work, Dean?” you turned to face him. “It literally never works. There are too many rules, and someone always gets hurt in the end.”

 “Not if we don’t let it,” he reminded you.

 “Fair point. If we’re going this, and that’s a big if, Dean. I don’t want stupid rules and shit, okay? Friends who have sex, try new things; whatever. Nothing about our friendship changes,” you declared.

 “Done deal. I can agree to those terms,” he nodded.

 “Good. I’m all for sex, but as soon as something goes sideways, of gets complicated, I’m out, okay?” you breathed out.

 “More than okay,” he smiled at you. “Now, are you going to deny me after sex cuddling?”

 “We had sex like half an hour ago,” you scoffed playfully.

 “Friends are allowed to cuddle, you know,” he reminded you. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

 “Fine,” you shook your head. “You’re big spoon though.”

 “Turn around then,” he smirked.

 You turned over, trying to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. Dean slipped his arm around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. You let yourself melt into him, feeling safe in his hold. You knew for a fact that he was going to keep the nightmares away tonight.  

 Maybe after sex cuddling wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 5 coming Tuesday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!

Dean Babes

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[jessbakescakes]

@twwobsessed​ asked for either 89. I noticed or 90. you can tell me anything from this post..

I accidentally deleted the ask, sorry! 

This one spans across the series... it also got way longer than I anticipated. Oops?

“Want some chips?”

Donna looks to her left to find Josh holding out a bag of barbecue potato chips he insisted on getting from the store across the street before they loaded up the bus to South Carolina. “Thanks,” she says, taking a couple from the bag. 

“Take as many as you want. It’ll probably be a little bit before we can stop to get something to eat, and we didn’t get a chance to eat lunch.” He places the bag between them, but doesn’t so much as reach for the chips again.

~*~

“Pizza’s here!” CJ announces, dropping several pizza boxes on the table in the center of the room. 

Josh tosses his pen on his notepad. “What did you get? I’ll grab it for you.”

Donna looks up from her note cards. “Oh, no, I didn’t get anything.”

“What? Why?”

She thinks back to the intern who came around asking for everyone’s orders about an hour ago, and the excuse she gave him. The Massachusetts Democratic Party catered a lunch with a sandwich spread; she told the intern that she was still full from lunch, but Josh would see right through that. He sat right next to her while she ate half a turkey sub and a just-this-side-of-stale oatmeal raisin cookie before they were ready to head to their next meeting. 

The truth, of course, is that she’s made a pretty big dent in her already modest savings account since rejoining the campaign. Her parents, in an attempt to impart some financial wisdom upon her during her teen years, had declared that half of each paycheck from whatever after school or summer job she held at the time was to be deposited into a savings account. She managed to make it all this time without having to dip into it; selling her car and sleeping on the floor had made it easier to stretch her limited budget. But it won’t last forever.

Before she can answer, CJ interrupts, calling out everyone’s orders. “Looks like we have some breadsticks on top, here, and some wings… here’s a cheese pizza for Kevin McCallister over there,” CJ says, motioning toward Josh as she opens the box, places it beside the stack, then closes the lid. 

“Hey now, Donna and I are splitting this pizza, I wanted to make her feel at home,” Josh retorts, grabbing a plate and handing it to Donna before pulling two slices of pizza out of the box CJ just abandoned. 

Donna turns to Josh. “I’m fine, Josh, really.”

“Donna,” he says, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from her seat.

“I don’t want to eat your food.” Josh gives her a pointed look, and she lets out a sigh. “How much do I owe you?”

Josh laughs. “What’s mine is yours, Donnatella.” He places his hand at the small of her back and ushers her toward the pizza box. “Eat.”

~*~

They manage to find a 24 hour diner in Little Rock two weeks before the convention. When their server approaches, everyone’s either staring blankly at their menus or engaged in subdued conversation. They were already tired, but they were pulling hours even longer than normal due to what should have been a minor PR snafu turned media beast that just wouldn’t die. 

Josh had gotten Leo to agree to bring Donna on as a salaried member of the campaign once the Governor was no longer the presumptive nominee, but the official nominee; all Donna needed to do was make her last few dollars stretch as far as possible for just a little longer. Her stomach growls loudly as the server moves next to Josh.

“I’ll have the chicken and waffles,” Josh starts, handing the server his menu and sliding Donna’s toward him. “She’ll have an omelette with spinach and feta.”

By the time she opens her mouth to protest, the server’s gone and Josh is listening intently to whatever it is Sam is saying to his left.

~*~

“I’m just saying,” Josh starts, putting his half-eaten box of Chinese food on the table in the Mural Room, “if Thompson thinks Braun and Miller will pull out, we need to plan for that now.”

“You really think they’ll do that?” Toby asks. 

Josh nudges the container toward Donna. “I do. At least, that’s what Braun was hinting at earlier. I don’t know what the hell that guy’s up to; he’s harder to read than any woman I’ve ever dated.”

Donna reaches for the food and peeks inside, noticing that it’s honey garlic chicken - her favorite.

~*~

“I think you’re not giving theoretical physics enough of a chance,” Josh insists. “I think you have some weird, unfair bias against it.”

Donna holds out her hand and takes the wrapper to Josh’s chicken sandwich. “Well, considering physics was the only class I ever came close to failing, I think my biases are perfectly fair.”

Josh laughs. “Donna Moss almost failed a class?”

“I stayed every day after school for a month and pulled it up to an A minus. But for a little while there I was in the mid-C range.”

“Painfully average,” Josh teases. 

“Shut up and eat your salad,” Donna sighs.

“I’m full, you can have it.”

Donna rolls her eyes. “Josh, you ordered this salad. You said you wanted this salad, and I didn’t question you…”

“You’re about to go back to work, and I know you won’t have time to stop and grab something for another… seven, eight hours? Eat the damn salad.”

~*~

The Hawk and Dove is nearly empty; it’s just CJ, Sam, Donna, Charlie, and Josh in the late hours of the snowy evening. 

“Toby was mentioning that earlier,” CJ says. “I don’t buy it.”

Donna pulls Josh’s untouched tray of cheese fries toward her and begins to eat, expecting a grumble or a whine from him. It never comes.

~*~

She’s not invited to this particular State Dinner. She could have gone home an hour ago, but she decided to take advantage of the rare opportunity to catch up on some filing while Josh wasn’t around. 

Donna works through the last stack of files and returns to her desk to find two plates full of hors d'oeuvres.

~*~

Donna opens her eyes and stretches as much as the hospital bed will allow. Josh hears her stir and stands up from his chair. “Hey,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better,” she says, her voice a little hoarse. 

“They brought you some breakfast. Looks like you’ve got some fruit and eggs. They’re probably a little cold by now, though. You hungry?”

“A little, yeah.” 

Josh extends his hand and offers her a small package of mini muffins. “Don’t ask me how this works, but apparently there’s a vending machine down the hall that has some American snacks in it. I thought these would be chocolate chip, but… they’re blueberry.” 

She takes the package and notices that the word blueberry is written in bold, blue font across the front, directly underneath the logo. He hasn’t eaten any of them.

~*~

“If anyone asks, the Congressman won’t be commenting on the situation with Senator Stephens,” Lou says. “Donna, do your best to make sure they don’t ask.”

Donna nods. She walks back to her seat to find a small bag of chocolate covered pretzels sitting in the chair. She looks across the room at Josh, staring at an electoral map, eating a bag of the same pretzels. He turns to grab a marker and makes eye contact with her from across the room.

Donna’s stomach nearly ties itself in knots when he gives her a small smile before returning to the board.

~*~

Josh takes his seat next to Donna, leaning in for a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hey,” she says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Everything okay?”

He nods. “Yeah. I was just getting the ‘don’t you dare hurt her’ talk from the President.”

“Which one?” Donna asks, taking a sip of champagne.

“Either. Both. They both like you better than me, anyway, does it really matter?” 

Donna laughs. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

Josh looks down at his empty plate, then at Donna. “You ate my slice of cake?” He’s saying it in a tone of incredulity, but he’s grinning.

She shrugs. “You left it; I assumed you didn’t want it.”

“Donna,” Josh whines. “I was going to eat that.”

“There’s still plenty left,” Donna reassures him. “Don’t worry. You can get another slice.”

“Why, so you can eat that one, too?” Josh sighs. “At what point did you start stealing my food, anyway?”

Donna moves her arm to rest on Josh’s chair. “Probably around the time I noticed that even though I was on salary, you still continued to feed me. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, by the way.”

Josh turns to face her. “Wait, you knew?”

“Of course I knew, Josh,” Donna says. “It was your way of taking care of me. It’s really thoughtful, actually. One of the many reasons I fell in love with you.” 

She looks at him for a moment, studying the smirk on his face. She’s still in awe that she gets to call this man her husband - this incredibly caring, ridiculously sweet, wonderful man married her. 

“I’m going to start putting my name on my leftovers,” Josh declares

“I’ll just eat them anyway,” Donna says, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. You will.”

[utterlyinevitable]

Hc on ethan and Becca's first date in a restaurant

First Dinner Date 

Becca has been bugging Ethan about a date night for weeks. 

She has been dropping not so subtle hints ever since their overnight case at the ski resort. Then they agreed to a secret relationship or whatever they are to one another and it was time to cash in on the ‘wherever, whenever’ promise he made her. 

Ethan finally entertained the idea in the most confusing way possible. 

One evening they were curled up in his living room and Becca broached the subject once more. 

With a sigh Ethan padded into the kitchen. He retrieved a small mixing bowl out of his cupboard along with two pens and a notepad. 

Sitting on his couch wrapped up in the throw blanket was a very confused Becca. 

He sauntered back over, placing the bowl on the glass coffee table and handed her a pen and paper; 

“Write down your top three cuisines and no more than 5 restaurants you like or would like to try and fold them up.” 

“Why?”

He gave her a look that read like if she asked any more questions she’d risk losing out on the surprise. 

Once she left for the evening, Ethan pulled a piece of paper out of the bowl. 

He expelled a dry laugh and debated pulling out another. 

It was a restaurant in his neighborhood - less than a 10 minutes walk away. One of the ones he wrote down he’d like to try. It was kismet really - a funny little joke. His innate need to separate their relationship from their work life was being challenged by an invisible force he didn’t believe in. And the first place he picks to celebrate their coupling is in a distinguished restaurant by the hospital. 

No time like the present. Time to face his fears head on. 

The only solace Ethan had was knowing no resident could afford such a place. Any of his peers wouldn’t dare approach him outside of office hours. 

Then he meticulously planned a date for two weeks away. Specifically planned it so they’d have the next day off together. 

Deaux was a modern restaurant known for their impeccable service, elegant dining room and world-class wine list. 

“Wow, this place is fancy,” She noted as she took her seat by the elegant fireplace in the tranquil and dimly lit palette-of-grays dining room. Looking at the menu she added, “French?”

“They use American ingredients to make the dishes. The wine list is meant to be impeccable.” 

Becca smiled knowingly, “That’s a raving review coming from you.” 

As Ethan thumbed through the carefully curated leather bound menu he shrugged, “I’ve been meaning to try this place since it opened a few years ago.” 

“What’s stopped you?” she inquired, knowing full well that his work-life is what kept him from most things he enjoys. 

Ethan’s ocean eyes met hers. He spoke with laden honesty, “I’ve never had anyone worth sharing this experience with.” 

Becca playfully rolled her eyes while the blush creeping up on her cheeks betrayed her true feelings. 

Moments passed in silence as they perused the seasonal menu. She looked at the prices and her eyes widened involuntarily. Ethan caught her shock. 

“Order whatever you want.” 

“It’s too much,” she shook her head, resigned. “Just on appetizers it’d be $50 between us.” 

“My treat.” 

She looked at him with pleading eyes. 

“Would you rather I order for you?” 

Becca knew he meant it to be a sweet gesture that she was going to undoubtedly reject, yet something stopped her. It was an interesting proposition. 

Becca’s eyes narrowed and Ethan’s brows knitted together. 

“You think you’d know exactly what I’d pick?” she challenged.  

“I’m sure I could.” 

“Fine.” Becca said with a devious smile “You order for me and I’ll order for you.” 

Ethan pretended to mull it over. There wasn’t any harm in the game and he was always up for a challenge where Becca was concerned. 

“One condition: I choose the wine for both of us.” 

“Deal” 

Once the waiter came over, Ethan order a bottle of red wine Becca could not pronounce. 

“Are you ready to order?” he looked between Ethan and Becca.

“Yes,” Ethan and made a motion for Becca to order first. 

For a split second she debated rethinking this game - debated choosing a whole other meal for her companion. But, no. If her mentor taught her anything it was to listen to her gut.

“Can we have the warm winter salad to start and the Giannone Chicken Breast for the main.” 

The waiter nodded as he wrote down the order then looked to Ethan.

“She’ll have the Duck Confit to start and then the Prime Beef Tenderloin. Also with a side of herb and parmesan fries for the table. Thank you.”  

The waiter asked if they had any allergies and promised to bring their wine right away. 

“That’s a lot of meat you got there,” she noted. 

Ethan rolled his eyes; “So... How’d I do?” 

With a shit-eating smirk she told him, “I would have never ordered the tenderloin.” 

“I know.” 

It was Ethan’s turn to gloat; “If it wasn’t for the price you would have ordered it.” 

Her heart beat just a tad faster at how well he knew her - how he just wanted to make her happy at any cost.  

“How’d I do?” she asked. 

Ethan smiled warmly. 

He didn’t get to verbalize his praise, the waiter came over and the two were engrossed in tasting the wine and sampling their appetizers. 

Pleasant conversation passed between them effortlessly and the wine flowed. The food was overpriced but a delicious work of art. Becca was grateful for Ethan and this experience but couldn’t wait to treat him to one of her places. 

During their entrée a loud gasp of “oh my god!” screeched from a few tables behind them. The doctors in Ethan and Becca halted to attention, assessing the scene in case they were needed to assist. 

When their heads whipped around to the ‘patient’, they noticed a man on his knee and a woman with her right hand to her mouth biting back the elated tears.  

Becca inaudibly “awed” at the couple. 

When the scene was over and they brought their attention back to their little bubble, she scrunched up her nose and added; “Blegh! Did you have to choose such a romantic place? 0 out of 10, do not bring your colleagues here.” She shoved a large bit of beef into her mouth to stop her smile. 

All Ethan did was reach for her hand; “You’re not my colleague.” 

The twinkle in his clear azure eyes told her all she needed to know. 

For the first time outside the confines of Ethan’s apartment - in a very public place - Becca brought their joined hands to her lips and placed a lingering kiss to his fingers. 

________________________________________

Masterlist

Perma:

@rookiemarsswiftie @lucy-268 @binny1985 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @adrex04 @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @theeccentricbibliophile @wingedhairstylemusicweasel@whimsicallywayward15 @mvalentine @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @lifeaskim @otherworldlypresents @therookie @aylaramseycarrera @angela8754 @fireycookie @stateofgracious @missmiimiie​ @uneravine​  @peaceinmidstofchaos @choicesaddict5​ @iemcpbchoices​

Ethan:

@udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @hutchereverlark23 @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy @stygianflood @caseyvalentineramsey @rookieoh @openheartthot @senseofduties @lilyvalentine @tsrookie @kalogh @aworldoffandoms @takemyopenheart @casey-v @ramseyandrys @ethanramseylover @ramseyreader  @a-crepusculo @aarisa-frost @shanzay44​

[harringrovetrashrat]

(We had a romcom month in Nov and y’all are gonna be subject to my bs.  This one is While You Were Sleeping inspired)

Steve groaned when there was knocking.

“Tommy, for the last time, no, you can’t move in, no I’m not in black underwear, and no--” He swung the door open to a smiling Billy, one eyebrow raised teasingly.  Steve flushed.  “Sorry, thought you were Tommy.” He said, shoving his hands into his pajama pockets.  Billy chuckled.

“Happens all the time,” he said.  He stood there a moment before ducking his head and licking his lips, wry smile on his face.  “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah!” Steve chirped, moving out of the way so Billy could enter.  He moved into the living room, letting Billy follow.  “Sorry,” he said with a wince, gesturing to the mess.  Billy shrugged.  It was quiet a moment before Billy cleared his throat and pointed at Steve’s chest.

“Deciding on ties?” He asked.  Steve looked down, looked at the navy blue, dark green, and coral neckties he had on.

“Oh,” Steve chuckled, pulling them off.  “Yeah, just uh, just seeing what will work.  For tomorrow.” Steve stared at Billy, taking him in.  Billy was looking at the clothes Steve had laid out, at the options he’d pulled out for the impromptu wedding.  It made his heart clench, made his lungs feel heavy.  He wanted Billy to say something.  “What did--”

“I’m sorry,” he said, face set.  “For all the trouble I gave you.” Steve’s words were stuck in his throat as Billy spoke.  “I’m gonna be really happy to, to call you my brother in law,” he said, smiling at Steve.  It didn’t reach his eyes quite right and Steve wanted him to fucking say something.  Billy hummed softly and pulled a small package out of his pocket.  “Oh, I got you a wedding gift,” he said.

“Yeah?” Steve’s voice was soft and Billy looked up at him through his lashes.  Steve gently took the present, unwrapping it carefully.

“I saw it in the window on a job and just--”

“Billy,” Steve breathed.  It was a snow globe.  Nothing fancy, but it was of Florence.  Steve shook it, watching the snow fall.  “Billy I--”

“Anyway--”

“Tell me a reason why I shouldn’t marry Heather,” he said, cutting Billy off.  “Tell me a reason and I won’t.”  Billy froze, gaze sad.  But, he didn’t say anything.  Didn’t utter a peep.  Steve gripped the snow globe tighter and smiled, nodding reflexively to the rejection, trying to push through the way it felt like his heart was breaking.  “Okay.  Yeah.”

“Steve,” Billy said, voice soft.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?  At the--” Steve took a breath.  “At the ceremony.” Billy looked like he wanted to say something, wanted to say a lot of things.  But again, he didn’t.  Just nodded and put his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice quiet.  “Tomorrow.” Steve shut the door behind Billy as he left, leaning his forehead against it to cry.  He took shuddery breaths, tried not to cry the day before his wedding, but for once, he couldn’t stop the tears.

--

Steve couldn’t believe he was late.  Couldn’t believe he was going to be late to his own wedding.  Yeah, maybe he wasn’t looking forward to it as much as he would have been a month ago, but he didn’t want to be late.  He skidded into the hallway and quickly found the room where everything had been set up.  Hop and Joyce were standing and talking, Murray was just sitting and watching the show, and Billy--

Billy was standing and waiting on Heather’s side.  Because of course he was her Man of Honor.  Steve walked in, waving.  He made it halfway down the aisle before he realized he’d left his jacket on.  So he ran back, put it on the hook, and walked down the aisle towards the family again.

“Finally!” Hopper boomed, smiling.  “You didn’t get cold feet did you?” Steve chuckled and shook his head.

“No, no.  Let’s uh, let’s do this.” Steve nodded to the rest of the family and looked at Billy.  Billy looked away from him as soon as they locked eyes and Steve once more wished for a lot of things.

Music began and Steve watched Heather walk down the aisle, Hopper leading her along.  They were smiling and Heather pulled her IV along, beaming at Steve.  He smiled back, thinking about how she and Billy had the same dimples.

Then the priest had started to speak and Steve looked in Heather’s eyes and--

“I object,” he said quietly.

“He what?” Hopper said, leaning forward.  Heather just blinked, tilting her head.  The priest gave him a quizzical look.

“We haven’t gotten to that part yet,” he said.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do this,” Steve said, letting go of Heather’s hands and stepping back.  “I--” He looked at the family.  “I’ve been lying to you.  To all of you.  And I can’t go through with this when I love--” He looked at Billy, heart slamming against his ribcage.  Billy stared, jaw slack.

“Billy?” Hopper groaned.  “Boy, what did you do?” Billy snapped out of his shock, furrowing his brow.

“What did I do?  I didn’t do anything!”

“He didn’t!” Steve cut in.  Everyone fell silent again.  “He didn't.  This is all on me, okay?  I’m not.  I’ve never been Heather’s fiancee.” The family collectively blinked.  “There was a miscommunication when she arrived and I didn’t correct them and then you guys came and--” He choked up a little, anxiety and regret filling him.  “You were all so lovely,” he  breathed out.  “A big, loving family that annoyed each other and ragged on each other but still loved each other at the end of the day.  I never… My parents stopped living at home when I was 13.  They didn’t stay at home with me for more than a week at a time.  I’ve never had real, good family in my life and…” He looked at them, all in varying degrees of shock.  “I fell in love with all of you,” he said, voice soft but strong.  Sure.  “And I was selfish and held onto it for too long.  Let this keep going when Heather doesn’t even know me.” He looks at her then, finding her smiling, even if it was sad.  Steve had let go of her hands during his little speech, but he took one again.  “I’m sorry,” he said to her.  “It was unfair to you and-- I’m just sorry.” Steve looked at Billy, who seemed unsure if he was shocked, angry, sad, or happy.  Steve understood that.  “I’m sorry to you too, because somewhere along the way of falling in love with your family, I fell in love with you as well.  And it wasn’t fair to… To want that when you didn’t know the truth.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the door burst open.

“I object!” A short, redheaded woman yelled from the doorway.

“Anyone else?” The priest asked, annoyed and ready to go home.

“Who are you?” Hopper demanded, brows drawn together.

“I’m Heather’s real fiancee!” She snapped, stomping down the aisle.  Heather’s eyes bugged out.

“Carol?  You said no!” She protested.

“Yeah, well I changed my mind--”

“What the fuck?” Joyce mumbled, pressing a dainty hand to her forehead.  The family got mixed up in the commotion and Steve quickly slipped out before anyone could pay him any mind.  It was easier that way.  He could slip out of their lives as easily as he slipped in and let them get back to normal.

--

Steve scratched a line on his notepad with his pen, cheek resting on his hand.  The day was slow, most people quietly bustling their way along in the cold of Chicago.  He sighed, letting his head fall forward to the desk.

“Listen,” Robin said from behind him, spinning around in her chair.  “It’s literally painful watching you mope.  Let’s get drinks tonight or something.” Steve didn’t look over his shoulder, just shrugged.

“Not feeling it,” he mumbled.  Robin sighed.  She opened her mouth to say more, maybe snark some sense back into him, when she saw a group approaching.  Steve still had his head down, shoulders slumped as he tried to make himself small.

It had been a long week since everything and Steve was tired.  Was tired, was sad, and didn’t really want to exist.  He’d been looking at plane tickets while holding Billy’s snow globe like some sort of creep for most of the week.  If he imagined being able to bring Billy along, no one else needed to know.  But it was the only thing he could think of to do.  To take some steps to enjoy his life, even if he had to do it alone.

He really didn’t want to do it alone.

There was a clink in front of him and he grabbed the change, not looking up or even saying his customary hello.  Once he had the pass printed, he slipped it back under the window and a hand quickly placed itself on top of his.  Steve’s breath caught.  He knew those fingers.  Knew those rings.  He’d memorized them.

Blue eyes were gazing down at him when he looked up, mouth opening in shock.  Billy smiled at him, small and hopeful.  Hopper and Joyce were doing a particularly bad job of hiding behind the pillar and watching.  Murray and Max had foregone trying to hide and were just watching, smiling at the sight.  Steve’s mind was racing.  Were they here to tell him off?  Were they mad?  Were they--

“Wanna go on a trip with me, pretty boy?” Billy asked, voice gentle and loving and everything Steve had been wanting to hear for the past month.  He gaped, mind working too slow to catch up.  Billy looked a little nervous at his silence, obviously chewing on the inside of his lip.

“Oh my god,” Robin said as the silence dragged on too long. “He so fucking does.  Please, take his moping ass on a date so I don’t have to drown him myself.”

“Robin!” Steve hissed, turning red.

“You’ve literally been depressed all week and it’s been bringing my vibe down.” Her look softened as she smirked, small and just at Steve.  “Go get your man.  I’ll cover for you.”

Steve could have kissed her.

Instead, he stood, shoving the door to the booth open and jumping the turnstile to cup Billy’s face and pull him into a kiss.  Billy’s hands settled on his waist as he smiled against Steve’s lips.  Joyce let out a Yes! that was probably louder than it should have been, but Steve didn’t care.  Didn’t think about anything except the lips pressed against his.  When he pulled back, Billy was smiling, bright and happy and Steve loved him.

“I’d go anywhere with you, Blue.”