#that final shot.. tara... so warm. so loving. so sweet

[toneelspeelster]

a declaration of faith, perhaps.

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

Caught in Your Focus

sum: Emily Prentiss, one of the most famous photographers comes to Iverson University, home to the NCAA’s pride and joy, Y/n Y/l/n. What was supposed to be a 2 month long documentary turned into a scandalous affair.

(not proof read)

WARNING: jealous!emily, photographer!emily, D1 volleyball Player!reader, cheating, cannon!jemily, athlete injury, slight angst, age gap, a tad of smut (ik im feeding you guys finally)

The smack of volleyball’s hitting the court never got old, after hearing it for almost all of her life it felt like home. The court was her therapy, her escape from reality. Her whole life that’s all that she wanted to do, be a volleyball Player, and that’s what she got and more. She was considered one of the best Libero’s in the nation and still people expected more from her.

But, she couldn’t cared about that now, not when the best photographer in the world is infront of her. On her knees for that matter.

“Em, faster” y/n groaned, gripping onto the sink in the bathroom. Her knees seemed to buckle as Emily lapped at her like it was the last thing she’s taste. The photographer slapped her thigh, “what did I say, baby?” She half groaned, only burning her face deeper in y/n.

A knock was heard from the door and one of y/n’s teamates voices called out, “N/n? It’s almost game time, we have to warm up!” Nicole yelled, y/n could barely speak without moaning so she prayed that her voice wouldn’t betray her.

“I’ll- be right out!” She squeaked out, as she put her hands on Emily’s shoulder’s bringing her closer, chasing her high. “nuh-uh, sweet girl, you’ll get your reward later,” she smirked, rising to her feet and fluffing out her curls. Y/n whined, pulling up her sweat pants. She looked as if she’s already played the game.

“Fine..” she grumbled, hugging Emily from behind. “Y’know, if JJ finds out, we’ll both be in trouble” Y/n chuckled, looking at the sparkling rock on Emily’s finger. The guilt ate away at her, but she needed Emily so bad that at this point she didn’t care who got hurt. “Hey…she’s not gonna find out,” Emily cooed, turning around to hug the younger woman, “If she does then, we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry your pretty head about it, focus on your game.” She assured, pecking her forehead sweetly, and giving her a few more kisses on her face careful not to leave a stain. It would be quite the story to tell if y/n had a lipstick stain on the semi-final championship game. “Now go, before your team wonders where you are”

Y/n nodded, reluctantly leaving, she never loved anything more than her sport, but if she ever needed to she’d quit in a second to be with Emily. This woman had affected her life in so many ways that it made her head spin, what made the whole affair scandalous is that Emily was married, to Jennifer Jareau no less. Y’know, she’s only one of the biggest movie stars on earth.

Emily stood in her bathroom fixing her makeup and clothes, she held her letterman jacket close to her. It had the University colors on it with y/n’s last name and jersey number on the back. It looked good on her, she knew that her marriage had been in shambles so y/n had been her way out. She had no plans of falling back in love with someone but the bright woman had changed them. “Prentiss! The game is starting in 30, we need you!” One of her colleague’s, Tara Lewis, called from outside the door. “Coming!” She replied, opening the door with a smile, Tara had filled her in on what type of shots they’d be needing, and told her about the magazine spread that she needed to shoot with y/n. Emily mentally took notes as her and Tara’s team was already assembling equipment and trying hard not to get hit with rogue volleyballs.

————

The game was heated, with Iverson up by 5. If they managed to take another point they’d move into the next set. Y/n kept getting dig after dig and was beggining to get tired. It wasn’t until the Outside Hitter had hit the ball over. It was so fast that Diana, the Leftback DS couldn’t get to it in time and shanked it. Y/n ran as fast as she could, her lungs screaming for air. She manage to pass it in, which made the crowd burst into a rapturous applause. But that was cut short when, y/n slipped and fell over some tables, her ankle twisting.

She wanted to get back up, she really did. But the pain shot through her and she screamed in pain. Her teammates didn’t notice that she wasn’t back and made the point cheering in Victory until they realized why the audience had gotten to quiet.

They all gasped, seeing the medics rush over to Y/n, her hands on her face as she wished every camera and person would just go away. They propped up her ankle and people began to murmur and worriedly converse amoungst themselves.

“Hey, y/n, come on, breathe, you’ll be just fine” Coach Oaklyn said, consulting with the medics and worriedly asking if it’ll be fine if she continue playing.

Emily was in the crowd, she watched the whole thing happen and she couldn’t help but felt her heart drop, leaving JJ in the stands calling out to her, she raced down the stairs and onto the court pushing past the security. They yelled at her to freeze but she didn’t listen. The press is sure gonna have a field day, she didn’t even care that they were broadcasting live.

****

“It looks as if Y/n Y/l/n has been injured, medics are consulting with Coach Oaklyn to see if she’s still fit to play, we all are keeping her in our prayers.” One of the announcers, Tom, said into the microphone.

“Yes, everyone is wondering if the all-star athlete, y/n y/l/n is okay. Right now, we are all praying that she is safe.” The other announcer, Beca agreed, some commotion began to happen and people began cursing as someone ran through the Stadium. “Folks, we are sorry for the Fruity language, but it seems as though world renowned photographer, Emily Prentiss is running through the Stadium like her life depends on it.” Beca continued, looking at the scene, Tom tried to understand what was happening and it wasn’t until she pushed through security that they realized. “Oh, looks like we have a photographer gone rogue, Prentiss has just pushed through security and headed straight for…y/l/n!” He smiled, impressed with her determination.

“Tom, to me it kinda seems like they’re more than just friends, but she just pushed passes those muscular guys like it was nothing!”

****

“Hey, she’s fine!” Oaklyn screamed at the security, as Emily went beside y/n, “Are you okay?” Emily panicked, holding her face, “Em…it hurts, I- can’t-” she gasped, unable to catch her breath the loud voices and screaming seemed to Echo and get 10x louder than they were. She covered her ears and whined, “It’s okay, sweet girl, I’m here, you’ll be alright.” Emily comforted, holding her close, the medic informed all of them that y/n to make it to the bench for them to wrap it.

“No, no, please, I can’t- It’s too hard“ she begged, looking at her coach for support on it. But Emily refused to let her give up on herself. “Y/n, look at me, I know it hurts so bad, but you have to fight, there’s a reason they call you the best, are you really gonna let those stupid girls beat you at your game?” She stated sternly, y/n shook her head ‘no’. “That’s what I thought, c’mon, let’s get up” Emily gave her a hand and assisted her to the bench. She had a grade one sprain that was pretty bad but not so much where she had to sit out for too long. She would surely have quite a few bruises, and her arm was a little cut up from getting caught into table,

“Y/n, if you play this, you might not be able to play for the rest of the season” Oaklyn tried reasoning with y/n, only to be met with a hand. “Then let this be my last game”

She walked onto the court with a limp and got onto position, Oaklyn sighed, giving Emily a shrug of defeat, y/n could be really stubborn when she wanted to be.

———

The game ended with Iverson winning, rightfully so. Y/n collapse onto a seat and whimpered, her ankle killing her. The medics gave her another check up and said that not much more damage had been done and told her that around 5 weeks of rest.

Y/n sighed, it wasn’t that much time, plus the March tournament wasn’t for another 3 months due to Basketball. As they all left, y/n saw Emily and Jennifer talking they seemed happy. It made the younger woman a little jealous at the fact Jennifer could make Emily laugh like that, even if they were married. Emily was y/n’s.

“Hey, y/n, you okay?” Nicole asked, placing a hand on y/n’s thigh, it broke her out of all her thoughts and she shifted her focus. “Yeah, I’m just scared, y’know. There was so many things that could’ve gone wrong, Thank the Lord that it was only a small sprain” she chuckled, Nicole laughed with her, “Well, if you ever need anything you know I’m always here for you”

ahem.

Both women looked up to see Emily with her arms crossed, her face was clearly jealous. “Well, I need to take this one home now, have a good evening, Nicole” The older woman said hurriedly, grabbing her arm and helping her out. Once in the parking lot, y/n huffed, feeling the comfort of Emily’s jeep. The silence gave you peace, but Emily not so much. You knew her by now, and she was pissed for what ever reason.

”I saw you talking to JJ, you two seemed quite happy” Y/n said, no idea what she was trying to say. “Yeah, because we’re getting a divorce” she deadpanned, never once looking over at y/n. “Oh…I’m sorry” Y/n frowned, lowering her gaze to her lap.

Emily and JJ were once happy, but that isn’t the case anymore, not after Will LaMontagne entered her life. They’d been seeing eachother on the side for months, what was the point of marriage then?

“It’s okay, really, it was a mutual agreement.” She said, placing a hand in her thigh, “She found out, about you, I mean” Emily smiled, the car stopping slowly as she pulled into y/n’s drive way.

“Was she mad..?” Y/n murmured, looking up with a slight sniffle. “No, baby, she was happy, actually, she said that she always knew that from the moment she met you…I guess we weren’t so sneaky”

The silence wasn’t awkward, it was awfully comfortable, it scared the volleyball player. Her whole life the screeching and screaming on courts and audiences was the norm, she didn’t have too much silence in her life. It was her last year playing at the collegiate level, she didn’t know what to do after this, she was pursuing a Career in arts so maybe something like that. She’d never been on a path she was really sure on. Volleyball was her life and now that it was almost over, she was lost. “We’ll figure it out. together.”

——————

Anyways, this was in my drafts a for a long while 🥲

There was a part two but I’ll have to hunt for that

@mxmmyprentiss

[crossbowking]

More Than Anything (Part 2)

(Click HERE to read More Than Anything Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader’s feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: “I’d love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?” - @pulplorrd

A/N: See, you'd think I would've learned after making you guys wait a year and a half for No Way Out Part 2, that I should probably FINISH my stories before actually posting the first part...yet, here we are, one month later lol I'm sorry for the wait but hopefully it's worth it!

Happy reading and let me know what you think :)

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Previously...

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

Now...

When the world ended, you’d accepted the idea of death — your death, specifically.

You knew that one day, your life would undoubtedly end — most likely at the hands of the dead, ripped to pieces, torn to shreds, the way so many others before you had been taken. But you’d always hoped your death would at least mean something — maybe laying your life on the line, sacrificing yourself so the people you loved could survive.

Something noble, something brave.

Not like this.

Before the fall, you’d managed to inhale a sharp breath — though once you’d submerged into the grimy pool water, the coldness, the darkness, the shock of it all, had zapped the air right out of your body. You were becoming increasingly aware of the tightness in your chest, the burning in your lungs as you struggled against the walker pressed against you, its weight sinking you further into the depths of the pool.

Then, the panic set in — your heart pounded against your ribcage, right alongside the immense pressure crushing your lungs. Glimpses of sunlight hung just above you, peeking through parts of the drifting tarp you frantically attempted to push aside. You were completely disoriented, your vision obscured by the murkiness surrounding you, floating specks only visible beneath the shattered light above.

When your back connected against the bottom of the deep end, you managed to wriggle out from under the dead’s listless body — though the tarp remained twisted around your limbs. No matter how hard you fought, how hard you struggled, you couldn’t free yourself from the suffocating material. You could’ve sworn you were caught in a dream, your movements lagging and sluggish as you thrashed beneath the surface.

It felt as though someone had reached their hand directly through the center of your chest, squeezing your insides in a vice-like grip. A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, settling atop your churning stomach as the throbbing behind your ears began to slow.

You were listening to your last heartbeats.

It became unbearable, the water threatening to force its way past your clamped lips, the simple need to breathe. A sharp stab of pain shot through you as the blackness in your vision intensified, pulsing reddish-white around the edges as the fire in your chest consumed you at last.

Then, with nothing else left to do, you inhaled.

You weren’t sure what happened next — everything felt faint and fuzzy and quiet. The darkness that lingered no longer struck fear in you — instead, it was warm, enveloping you in its arms like a long-lost lover. The silence was soothing as you drifted in the emptiness, like careless whispers and forgotten melodies. You were weightless, you were freed, you were everything and nothing all at once.

You were dying.

That you were sure of.

Yet much to your surprise, you weren’t afraid — no, instead…you felt at peace.

But the brevity of calm didn’t last as you were suddenly aware of a vague pressure, though it wasn’t all-consuming nor constant. It was distant at first, a feeling you could’ve easily brushed aside had it not begun to gradually grow in force, in vigor — a steady pounding, coming from the center of your chest, over and over again.

The warmth around you began to splinter, shattering like shards of glass, the fallout piercing your skin as it collapsed around you. The pain was deep and burning and you longed for just a moment ago when all you felt was the sweetness of oblivion. The pressure pounding against your chest increased, becoming the sole thing you could feel, the only thing you could focus on, the unwavering thuds drawing you back from whatever place you’d drifted off to.

In the next moment, you were awake.

Your body flailed, jolting upright, but you’d only managed to get an inch or two off the ground before water began to suddenly spurt from your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as you choked on the liquid, every nerve ending in your body red-hot. You were vaguely aware of hands, rough and calloused and familiar, gripping onto your arms and forcing you onto your side, the motion allowing the water leaving your lungs to flow easier.

You gasped a constricted breath, coughing harshly on the exhale, completely and entirely disoriented as to what in the fuck just happened. Your chest tightened as you spit up more water, your throat closing around the sensation as you fought for control of your breathing, the feeling of concrete against the side of your body grounding you.

When your coughs finally died down, the same hands from before grabbed onto your arms, pulling your deadweight upright, maneuvering your limp body as if you were a rag doll. You blinked your bleary eyes open, wincing from the sunlight directly above as you drew in shaky breaths.

And then you saw him.

Daryl knelt in front of you, his ragged breathing mirroring your own, soaking wet from head to toe. Strands of hair stuck against his forehead, droplets of water still dripping from the ends as he stared at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of horror and shock — something you rarely witnessed when it came to the archer.

He was mouthing something — no, he was shouting something — but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear a damn word he was saying as you sat there, dazed and confused, wondering if what just happened actually happened.

His hold around your arms slipped away, his hands cradling either side of your face instead, tilting your head up and brushing your drenched hair back. He leaned forward a fraction, frantically studying your features, his haunted eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as though making sure you were there — really there.

The silence was becoming a little less resounding, the world around you gradually seeping back, though muffled and dull — but the way Daryl was looking at you, the apprehension in his gaze, shook something loose inside you. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to tell him it was okay — that you were okay — but damn it, why couldn’t you speak?

So instead, you slowly lifted your hands, weakly grasping onto Daryl’s wrists, the small motion all you could muster — you had to let him know you were here. He glanced down at your hands, a small huff of relief escaping him.

But when he looked back up, you noticed the moisture that’d built in the corners of his eyes.

Daryl’s hands slipped behind your head, holding you still as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours.

You, on the other hand, silently thanked whatever God or higher power was out there for giving you one more moment like this.

When the archer pulled back, you spotted a red streak smeared across his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Your brow knitted together as he sat back on his haunches. You tried clearing your throat, the sensation burning the rawness that’d spread. “You’re —” you croaked, your voice sounding foreign. “— you’re bleeding, D.”

Daryl’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he lowered his gaze and unsheathed his hunting knife. “It ain’t mine,” he rasped, suddenly slicing a long strip of fabric off from the bottom of his dampened shirt and balling it in his fist, ringing out some of the water.

Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching forward, pressing the material gingerly against your forehead and wrapping it behind your head, tying the strip into a knot to keep it in place. You were surprised at the sting of pain you felt, unsure when you managed to cut your head open in the midst of what had happened — everything was still sort of…fuzzy.

The sound of a car door slamming drew your attention. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, spotting Tara jogging towards you, the car you’d driven to the motel running idle in the parking lot.

“They’re coming!” she called out, motioning towards something just behind Daryl.

You craned your neck, attempting to get a look, but before you could, the archer was looping his arms beneath your armpits and hefting you up to your feet. The world tilted unsteadily around you, and had it not been for Daryl’s hold, the ground would’ve surely rushed up to meet you.

“I got ya,” he rasped, slinging one of your arms across his shoulders, his grip snaking around your waist.

Tara appeared at your opposite side, slightly out of breath. “Welcome back, chicka,” she shot you a slightly strained smile before following Daryl’s lead and winding your other arm across her shoulders, keeping you propped upright between them.

You wanted to tell them you were fine, that you were more than capable of walking on your own — but your strength had depleted, your legs shook beneath you, and the shock was beginning to wear off, making all the little aches and pains in your body alarmingly obvious.

Then, you were moving.

They half-dragged, half-carried you across the stretch of concrete, hurrying towards the parking lot where Tara had left the car. You peeked over your shoulder, managing to get a glimpse of what you were leaving behind — the small herd from earlier had been taken down, their bodies splayed out sporadically on the other side of the pool. Some sporting knife wounds, others bullet holes. The pool itself was rippling, the water sloshing back and forth, air bubbles visible at the surface.

Some of the dead had followed you into the water.

Just beyond the pool, you spotted exactly what you were running from — another herd, three times the size of the first one, ambling in from the woods behind the motel, most likely drawn in by gunfire.

When you reached the car, Tara slipped away and jumped into the driver’s seat. Daryl flung open the back door and maneuvered you carefully inside. You grimaced as you inched further into the car, only stopping once your back was pressed up against the opposite door. The archer quickly slid in after you and slammed the door shut, grabbing onto the back of the driver’s seat as Tara peeled out of the parking lot.

The silence that followed rang heavy.

Your heart hammered against your chest, your breaths coming out slightly wheezy, almost like there was still some water left in your lungs. You met Tara’s eyes in the rearview mirror before she focused back on the road — you noticed then that the sleeves of her shirt, up to her elbows, were wet.

She’d helped drag your body out of the pool.

You glanced over at Daryl, the archer’s grip on the driver’s seat white-knuckled as he stared at the back of the headrest. Waves of tension rolled off him, the feeling nearly palpable. But his eyes flickered towards you a moment later, as though he felt you watching him, and some of the rigidity faded.

He wordlessly shuffled closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door you leaned against. You were too tired and too sore to object, your body slumping against his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders — you thought for a brief moment that he was hugging you.

But instead, he wound your seatbelt around your body and locked it in place.

Daryl fell back against the seat beside you with a huff, keeping his gaze focused ahead, staring straight through the windshield. He didn’t look at you again — he remained still, like he was carved from stone. You weren’t even sure he was breathing. His arm just barely grazed the side of yours, but despite whatever hidden turmoil was surely happening inside of him, he made no effort to move away.

He needed time to process what happened — what almost happened.

But so did you.

You shifted, closing the small gap between you and resting your head against his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. The material of his shirt was still damp and smelt like a mixture of chlorine and mildew from the murky pool water, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away either.

You hadn't realized you’d dozed off until the archer gently shook you awake, the car now parked outside Alexandria’s makeshift infirmary.

You still felt weak and lethargic, but you managed to make your way inside without any help — although Daryl, silent and stoic as ever, remained at your side, his hand hovering over the small of your back.

The infirmary was quiet as Denise checked you over — Tara had gone to update Rick and the others on what happened, as well as distribute the supplies you’d managed to bring home. Daryl, on the other hand, paced — back and forth, like a caged animal, on the opposite side of the room. Almost like part of him desperately wanted to run, but a bigger part of himself needed to be there.

“Are you feeling any nausea? Confusion? Loss of basic motor skills?” Denise suddenly asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on, looking up from the textbook she was reading from. She’d never dealt with an ‘almost drowning’, but had been able to scrounge up some old medical textbooks for help.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, shaking your head once. “No. No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s good…” she murmured, mostly to herself, before flipping to the next page and skimming the stretch of words. “Besides your forehead, any other lacerations?” she looked up at you once more, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t —” you shot Daryl a look, but he was too busy pacing to notice. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head again, your fingertips ghosting over the bandage Denise had patched your head up with.

“Good, good. We’ll want to keep an eye on that in case of infection,” she informed before flipping to the next page, mouthing the text to herself. “Okay, and any soreness?”

You grimaced as you sat up a little straighter. “Just — just right here mostly,” you admitted, motioning towards your center, below your chest.

Denise shut the textbook and placed it on the metal table you sat on top of. “Can you show me?”

Your brow knitted together but you obliged, sliding off the table and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You fought back a wince as you rolled the material up, stopping just below your chest, exposing your skin.

The first thing you noticed was the way the room suddenly stilled — you glanced up, spotting Daryl standing frozen across the way, pacing no longer. But he wasn’t staring at you — he was staring at your midsection, a look in his eyes you’d never seen before.

When you lowered your head, getting a good look at yourself for the first time, you realized exactly what he was seeing.

Bruises. Dark and discolored. Scattered down your sternum and along the center of your ribcage.

Your head snapped up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

And Daryl was gone.

You tried to ignore the pinprick of tears that grew, the hurt that settled across your chest as you lowered your shirt back in place — but when Denise suddenly reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, patting it softly, your features crumpled.

Everything that happened seemed to catch up to you in that moment — the fear, the shock, what Daryl must’ve felt pulling your unmoving body out of the water. You’d nearly died. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to bring you back? Would he have been the one to put you down when you undoubtedly turned? Or would Tara have done it — the act far too painful for the man you loved to follow through with.

The man you loved.

Denise wrapped her hand around yours, squeezing gently and drawing you back. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed.

You quickly swiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks, huffing a hitched breath. “I know, I’m just —” you glanced up at the front door, hanging onto the foolish hope that it’d swing open once more. “I don’t know,” you finally mumbled, albeit defeatedly.

Denise followed your gaze, scoffing slightly. “Men suck,” she finally shrugged.

You sniffled softly before shaking your head. “Not that one,” you murmured fondly.

Denise squeezed your hand once more, shooting you a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. “It could’ve been worse — most people who have CPR done on them end up with broken ribs or punctured lungs. You, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.”

You inhaled a deep breath, fighting back a wince, the motion stretching your bruised body. “Thank you. For everything.”

Denise nodded before taking off her glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses. “Y/N, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but,” she paused, sliding her glasses back on as she regarded you seriously. “You smell like a sewer rat.”

You faltered, completely caught off guard by her statement before remembering that you were still wearing damp, swampy, pool water clothes. Then, despite everything, a laugh slipped past your lips, breaking the tension. You let out a hiss as the movement sent a wave of pain through you. “Ow, fuck, don’t make me laugh,” you bit back another chuckle, lightly swatting her arm.

Denise smiled before motioning towards the door. “Go home, shower, get some rest — Doctor’s orders,” she grinned, turning away and beginning to clean up her workstation.

You thanked her again before hobbling out of the infirmary.

As night drew near, most residents of Alexandria were already in their respective homes — you were grateful for that. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, their worry and endless questions something you were more than happy to put off until tomorrow.

When you made it back to the apartment you and Daryl shared, you were, yet again, fighting back feelings of disappointment — he wasn’t home. You felt a pinprick of worry, but knew he needed time and space to process whatever it was he was feeling.

And when he was ready, you would be too.

You walked through the kitchen, the morning you’d shared earlier feeling like a lifetime ago — the pan he’d used to make eggs, now dry, remained sitting on the counter. The bedroom was untouched, looking exactly how it had this morning, just the way you’d left it. You grabbed a fresh set of clothes before making your way into the master bathroom attached, ignoring the bone-deep tiredness settling over you.

Showering was a good call — the warm water rained down as you scrubbed your body of the muck that clung to you, being extra careful not to get the bandage on your head wet or make any sudden movements. When you were finished cleaning up, you stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes, eyes closed, inhaling the steam around you with deep, calming breaths.

You were okay. You were alive. You were here.

You shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried yourself off, gingerly patting down your chest and around your ribs, before slipping into clean clothes. You wiped away some of the steam that’d collected on the bathroom mirror before hanging up your towel, combing out your knotted hair, and brushing your teeth — the same routine you did every night.

The normalcy was soothing — you were already beginning to feel better, more like yourself. You were ready to put what happened behind you and move forward, sure to never take another day for granted.

But when you opened the bathroom door, ready to curl up in bed and doze off, all of your feelings from earlier came rushing back at the sight of Daryl.

Once again, he’d been pacing the length of the bedroom, only stopping after you’d entered the room, his gaze snapping towards you. He shifted his weight back and forth, opening his mouth before clamping it shut. You could feel his energy, rolling off his body in waves — tense, rigid, wild. He was struggling to say whatever was on his mind, only furthering his evident frustration. He flicked his hair away from his eyes, turning to face you head-on, clearly gathering up the gall to speak.

You took a small step forward. “Daryl —”

“Ya were blue,” he suddenly rasped, a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Tara was shoutin’ for ya an’ I — when I went in an’ pulled ya out, there wasn’t — I didn’t —” he huffed a breath in frustration, his face tinged red. “God, damn it, Y/N, ya were fuckin’ blue,” he finally growled, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at his side.

His anger wasn’t directed at you, but the situation itself, you knew that. But still, his words — or more so the emotion, the truth hidden behind them — had you recoiling from him, your heart breaking at the thought of what he’d seen, of what had run through his mind when he realized you weren’t breathing.

You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been.

And that was what was beneath his outburst — not rage, but fear.

But he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say — if anything, he was just getting more and more worked up as he began to frantically pace once more. “This is why — I fuckin’ told ya — I didn’t need ya comin’ out there. I didn’t need ya on that run but ya — ya didn’t listen ta’ me an’ then —”

“I love you.”

Daryl stilled, mid-stride, his gaze widening as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs.

You felt your face flush, the air between you so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the words just sort of…tumbled out? And now, there they were, hanging between you. Part of you wondered if the archer could hear your heart pounding from where he stood — or maybe it was his heartbeat, synched up to yours.

You sputtered a soft breath, shaking your head in disbelief, trying not to panic because the last thing you wanted was for Daryl to look at you the way he was looking at you after telling him you loved him. “I’m —“ you took a breath, regarding him earnestly. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. And I promise — I promise — you do not have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel the same way,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but the noise hitched somewhere in your throat, betraying your words. You grew serious once more. “I just — I couldn’t have another night going by without you knowing. Not after what happened today,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shrugging a shoulder up meekly. “So, I love you — I love you more than anything.”

You weren’t sure what sort of reaction you were expecting from him. But you absolutely refused to acknowledge the tiny part of you that secretly wished he’d swoop you into his arms, pull you close, tell you he loved you too — because that wasn’t Daryl. That wasn’t the type of man he was — and you were okay with that.

Because you hadn’t fallen in love with that type of man.

You’d fallen in love with the man standing shell-shocked in front of you.

You cleared your throat and stepped forward, moving away from the bathroom doorway. “The shower’s all yours,” you murmured, needing to break the uncomfortable silence that carried on.

You sidestepped around his frozen form, ignoring the way your legs shook like jelly beneath you as you made your way towards the bed. You took a seat on the edge of the mattress, keeping your back towards him, staring ahead at the blank wall in front of you instead.

After what felt like forever, the floorboard squeaked beneath the shifting of his weight, his footsteps growing faint as he slowly walked away and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut after him.

You strained your ears, listening for any movement beyond the door he’d disappeared behind — but you heard nothing. It was like you could feel him through the panel of wood between you — you could almost picture him, just standing there, trying to process whatever the hell was going on inside that mind of his.

A moment later, the shower turned on.

And you released the breath you’d been holding.

Exhaustion swept through you, the day’s events wearing you down. You carefully maneuvered yourself into bed, pulling a thin sheet over your body and settling onto your side. Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of the shower lulling you to sleep despite the strange, sort of freedom your admittance had brought you, the feeling buzzing through your veins.

You didn’t regret your vulnerability — he needed to know he was loved, damn it.

When you heard the shower turn off, you snapped your eyes shut. You listened to the archer move about the bathroom until the door finally creaked open. He seemed to be just standing there, and you could’ve sworn you felt him staring at the back of your head as if he was gauging whether or not you were actually asleep. But a moment later, you heard his footsteps padding across the bedroom before the mattress dipped beneath him.

You held your breath, covers drawn to your chin as Daryl shifted in bed, eventually lying down beside you. Another beat of quiet passed, neither of you moving, nor breathing it seemed.

But then suddenly, you heard him speak, so softly you almost missed it. “I know ya ain’t sleepin’,” he rumbled.

The corner of your mouth quirked up — because of course he knew.

You sighed, shifting gingerly onto your back, the sheet pooling at your waist as you looked over at him. He laid on his side, facing you, propped up on his elbow. He was dressed in clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, pushed back out of his face.

He really was rather beautiful.

“Busted,” you smiled, though the archer’s expression remained solemn.

Ever so gently, he reached towards you, his fingertip grazing the material of your shirt, over your ribcage, below your chest, hovering the bruises that lingered. “Does it hurt?” he rasped, the mouth turned downward into a small frown.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

Daryl’s eyes met yours, his expression skeptical and knowing.

You never were a good liar.

“At least you didn’t break a rib?” you offered sheepishly, your lame attempt at a joke falling flat given the current audience.

But when Daryl’s features fell, a flash of what looked like guilt settling over his face, you placed your hand on top of his, resting them against your stomach. “Don’t do that,” you murmured, reading him like a damn book as you rubbed circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

The archer grumbled something indistinct, staring down at your intertwined hands.

Your grip tightened around his. “I mean it,” you spoke, an edge to your voice, only softening when he looked at you instead. “You saved my life, D — that’s it. You can let go of anything else you’re holding onto.”

Daryl’s lip twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, seemingly mulling over your words.

You were sure he’d hang onto whatever unnecessary guilt he carried — because that was just who he was — but eventually, he nodded once and settled down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You were too tired to press the subject further so you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest, winding your arm across his midsection. His arm automatically wrapped around you, his fingertips trailing absently up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like that, melting into the warmth he exuded, the steady pounding of his heartbeat easing you to sleep.

You’d nearly faded away when Daryl suddenly spoke.

“Did ya mean it?” he rumbled, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest. “What ya said before?” he grunted, his hand pausing at the small of your back.

You could’ve imagined it, but you almost felt the slight tremble of his fingertips against your skin.

You slowly pushed up onto your elbow, your faces mere inches apart. You searched his uncertain gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I meant it,” you whispered. “Every damn word.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, as though not entirely believing what you said could be true.

So you leaned forward, closing the remainder of space between you, and pressed your lips gently against his. He returned the kiss, a quiet desperation growing as one hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across your cheek. You broke away from the kiss, brushing his hair back before meeting his lips once more, settling your hand on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch.

When you pulled back, you noticed his skin flush, surely mirroring your own. He looked up at you, slightly breathless, a fondness in his gaze that sent your stomach somersaulting. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Well, alright,” he finally resigned, accepting your answer to his question.

You snorted a breathy laugh, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before burrowing against him. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Daryl’s hold tightened around you, as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of contentment, unsure how many more moments like this you, or anyone else for that matter, had left in this kind of cruel and harrowing world.

But for at least tonight, you could be at peace.

“I love you,” you murmured groggily, beginning to sink deeper into unconsciousness.

Right before sleep came, long after Daryl thought you’d drifted away, you heard him whisper three, simple words.

“More than anythin’.”

Then he pulled you closer and the world dimmed.

A/N: Aw...a happy ending! (I figured I owed ya after putting y'all through Honey & Whiskey lol)

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know!

[whitexwingedxdoves]

wretched heart    [request]

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Warnings: Language Summary: Despite ending things with Daryl, you still can’t seem to let go of him. (loosely inspired by Happier by Olivia Rodrigo) A/N: Requested by @srhxpci​ (angst with a happy ending 😊 ) I hope you enjoy. Tags: @chloe-skywalker​ @browneyes528​ Italics = Flashbacks.

-

Your heart seemed to break into a million pieces as you walked away from Daryl, after everything that had happened with Negan and now with the loss of Rick you weren’t prepared to lose Daryl Dixon. You clawed at your chest, hoping it would allow you to breathe but it remained stuck as you left the archer there in the middle of the forest. You had never loved someone so deeply before and it scared you, it scared you to the point of running and hiding – you told him it wasn’t safe for them anymore and that even though it wasn’t your time now, it will be one day and you wholeheartedly believed it. The idea that the world will be well enough one day that you could get back your Daryl was the only thing that allowed you to get out of bed in the morning.

Thing’s got too much for you after you and Daryl went your separate ways and therefore you decided that you needed to venture out on your own for a while, perhaps look for Rick’s body or find out where Anne had disappeared. You didn’t have a set objective but you knew you needed the time to yourself. Tara tried to argue it was too dangerous for you to be on your own but failed to take into account the amount of time you had already spent alone out in the woods before meeting the group. Your trip didn’t provide much new information but you felt you had successfully cleared your mind enough to return back to Hilltop. You had been gone for maybe a month or two, you didn’t really keep track of the time but you didn’t think it could have been longer than that.

Once you reached the gate’s it didn’t take long for them to open, the guards seemed more than happy about your return, you gave your horse a stroke, thanking it for returning you back home safe before trotting past the gates. You watched as a few people gathered as you came to a stop, you looked around, happy to be home until your eyes landed on a far to familiar bike. A lump formed in your throat as you tried to redirect your attention, finally pushing yourself to get off the horse. You managed to send faux smiles at everyone who welcomed you home, allowing someone to take your horse to the stable. You looked around at the small crowd of people before returning your attention to Alden who offered you a warm hug. You pulled away and let your hand land on his shoulder. “Where’s Jesus?” your question seemed to strike unwell with Alden, his head dropped slightly before meeting with your gaze.

“He- erm” he struggled to pull together a sentence attempting to keep you updated on the situation at Hilltop, you instantly wished you were back out in the woods blissfully ignorant to the death of your friend. A small tear rolled down your face but you nodded towards the man, acknowledging his words.

-

You spent the rest of your day in your room, with the news on Jesus and seeing Daryl’s bike you figured that anything beyond your four walls weren’t worth the hassle. No one bothered you all day and you were grateful for that, you cleaned yourself up and got familiar with the comfort of your mattress again. When the sun started to set, you thought you needed to stop moping around, show your face even if its just for a few minutes. Thankfully on your travels you came across a half empty crate of alcohol, a bottle of rum seemed fitting for the situation so you grabbed it by the neck and made your way outside to mingle.

Fires had already started and you seemed to slip into the crowd of people unnoticed, everyone seemed to be in their own little groups or wandering around you unscrewed the cap of the rum and allowed the brown liquid to pour down your throat. You found a quiet spot just off from everyone else but it gave you the perfect view of everyone gathered there that night. Your eyes wandered from person to person until they seemed to freeze. Daryl Dixon. Your heart seemed to crawl up your throat as you watched the man fiddle with his fingers, attempting to master a sign but you didn’t pay much attention to that, instead you admired the way he had aged since you last saw him. Your mind flashing images of a younger archer and you came to the conclusion that he aged perfectly well, you’d giggle to yourself thinking about how he’d always be scared of the age gap you had even though no one else really noticed it nor did they care.

You noticed his smile and then you noticed who he gave it to, you’d never seen her before but you couldn’t disregard her beauty or the way her eyes seemed to shine as she laughed at Daryl’s attempts to communicate with her with his hands. Your heart dropped, it felt like it had completely left your body as you watched the two flirt with each other, your eyes welled up whenever she touched his arms all you could think was how they were your arms and not hers. So caught up with your blind jealousy, you almost didn’t notice that Daryl was now staring right back at you, it made you stumble a little but you shot him a smile before your eyes left him, doing anything you could to keep the tears from leaving your eyes.

The alcohol seemed to help loosen the lump in your throat as you chugged down as much rum as you possibly could before it made you feel sick “Hey” you’d know that gravelly voice anywhere, it sent goose bumps up your arms as you lowered the bottle back to you side, clearing your throat as you looked to your side. Your heart seemed to race at the sight of the archer who stood close by you

“Hey” your voice was much softer as your eyes landed on his shoulders, not brave enough to look into his eyes just yet. The tension could have been cut with a blunt knife, you kicked loose stones under your feet as the southerner struggled to think up a conversation. “How ya been?” he broke the silence finally with a question he genuinely cared to know, he watched you closely as you scoffed at his words. “Fine” despite your short temper, you allowed yourself to look into Daryl’s eyes now sending him a faux smile. “Whatta bout you? Saw you getting on nicely with that girl over there, what’s her name?” you hated how bitter you sounded in that moment but it seemed the alcohol had taken over your entire attitude failing to incorporate a filter. “Connie” Daryl muttered back at you, watching you take yet another sip of your poison. Your eyes widened now you had a name for her face, licking the access rum from your lips. “She’s pretty” the air fell silent around you both now, you tried to fight every urge to shout and scream that he should be with you and not her.

Eventually you couldn’t hold your tongue anymore, you had far too much liquid confidence supporting your toxic words to even think straight anymore “Does this mean you forgot about me?” despite your intentions your words fell soft as you stared into the crowd of people, your leg shaking a little as you awaited his response but you never got one, instead he just stared at you in disbelief “I always thought that one day we’d get back together you know but I can see that’s not on you agenda” you spat at the man, the anger becoming more apparent with every word. Daryl grunted at your words, his scowl creasing his features. “Na, ya the one who ended shit!” he became extra expressive with his movements, his finger pointing in your direction as he paced back and forth. “because it wasn’t safe!” you shouted back in his direction, your face mimicking his “You know what it’s like now as soon as you’re even slightly happy, the thing you love the most is taken from you without warning. I’ve lost too much, I couldn’t lose you too!`` At some point you decided to take a softer approach with your honesty taking a deep breath when you finally split your truth.

The moment fell quiet once more, a tear created a track on your face as you turned away from him you crossed your arms keeping a firm hold on the bottle you babysat all night. “I'm happy you found Connie, you deserve it.” You peeked over your shoulder so that the archer could hear you “I just don’t think I could ever be as happy as I was when I was with you” and with those words you left him there as you made your way back to your room.

When the door closed behind you, you found yourself pressed against the wall beside it, trying your hardest to suppress the tears your eyes held onto. You placed the glass bottle on top of your dresser and attempted to ease your breathing and slow the hard heavy beating of your heart. It seemed to stop completely when you heard someone’s knuckles brush against your door, you stood perfectly still for a moment before you reached for the knob. You slowly pulled it open revealing Daryl stood on the other side, you stared up at him in silence and took in his posture, he seemed a little out of breath, like he had been running which only confused you more. “Me an Connie are jus friends' ' he panted, taking a couple of steps so that he was now fully in your room. You couldn’t deny that your heart seemed to burst with joy at the news but now you were just left completely embarrassed by your outburst. “Ya the only girl for me” you allowed a small chuckle to pass your lips but you wasted no time in wrapping your arms around him, pushing at the back of his neck with your hands to pull him into a soft, sweet kiss. You tried to hide the moan that surfaced as his hands cradled your hips. You were completely weak at his touch, god had you missed the way this felt.

He pulled away slowly, taking in the smile that stretched across your face, allowing a small smile of his own to pierce his stern features “Ya taste like a bar” “I'm sorry!” you winced attempting to pull away from the redneck but he didn’t allow you, he kept you close and pulled you in tighter when you attempted to leave his grasp.

“Na, I like it”

[insufferablelust]

blurb/one shot about reid coming home after prison and the team wants you to go home with him to his apartment to comfort him because you guys are good friends. he starts to talk about how lonely he was and how much he missed talking and laughing with you but also how much he dreamt of touching/fucking you while he was there. spencer is a very hard dom and rough considering he hasn’t touched anybody in months.

Warning : Smut! with some name calling, and dom!Spencer x Sub! Reader.

When you received the news that Spencer has been released from that god awful prison, you jumped at the first look of him entering the bullpen with JJ after the whole Cat ordeal. You hugged him like you would hug a boyfriend, but you didn’t care, you haven’t seen him in so long— he refused to let you visit him on prison because he can’t bear the thought of how the others would watch you and Spencer’s blood boiled at the thought.

Its how you two has always been together, since you joined the team after Emily depart to interpol, you have always been close to Spencer— from the outside, it would look like you two were too close, but neither of you really cared. It would be naive of course, if you lie and say you don’t love him— because you do, as a best friend and so much more. But you knew, how difficult relationships could get for him so you never tried to pry more than you were given even if you had to watch him break down after Maeve, and the stories that follows.

Morgan teased you about it before he left, saying how you should make your move now rather than later— only Morgan knows how much love you have for Spencer (and Morgan is also the only person who knows how much love Spencer have for you) but you shrugged and laughed it off, swallowing down the bitter pill of reality that he would never look at you more than just a friend— a very close caring friend that kissed multiple times because they were drunk, yeah that’s it, right?

Wrong.

It’s been a few weeks since Spencer’s release and the whole Mr.Scratch mess. You were just quietly enjoying your mandatory break with red wine on your hand and flashes of imagination that accompanied your thoughts. You sighed as you take a look at your phone to see a message from Penelope.

Garcia, P ❤️

Hey princess! how about you, me, em, JJ, and Tara go out to shop tonight? maybe we could catch up too? i miss you aaalll soo much.

You smiled at the sweet message, quickly typing a ‘yes i’ll be there, your majesty. and i miss you too.” It wasn’t that difficult of a choice, seeing as you weren’t doing anything anyways, and you sure as hell could buy some more things just for the sake of retail therapy.

You quickly changed into a comfy dress that stops just below your knee, with a vintage belt around your hips and a cute burgundy cropped cardigan to keep you warm. You were zipping your bag when you heard it, heard the pretty loud bangs on your door that had you startled. To say that you were a bit paranoid was an understatement, as you approached the door with a gun prepared on your hands— you squinted at the peephole to see if you should open your doors or not, to your absolute childish-crush surprise— it was Spencer, a very disheveled looking Spencer standing in front of your door.

As soon as you sees him, you placed your gun away safely tucked on your cabinet before opening the door and let him in. He was dressed somewhat nicely, shirt tucked underneath his pants with his signature dark blue cardigan, his hair was a mess, and the bags below his eyes indicated that he’s in fact not doing well— though you figured as much.

“Spence, are you okay? you look tired.” You mumbled carefully, as you sat down beside him on your couch, his eyes wouldn’t even look at you but rather taken a keen interest on the floor of your apartment.

“Oh..are you going on a date?” He asks timidly, his voice shaky and on edge as his gazed turned to your bag and then your clothes.

“What? No, no no! Pen asked me out on a shopping night with the girls so i was just about to go.” You laughed, and you swore you heard his loud sigh of relieve when you said that, but you’re convinced that your mind is telling tricks to you.

“Well um i can go.. if you’re—“ You cut him off instantly just as he about to stand, you grabbed his wrist tightly to pull him back down and shake your head, smilling softly, “No.. Please, i can shop another time— you came all the way here so stay okay?” You begged him, eyes desperately trying to lock with his.

“Okay... okay, Y/N.” He sniffled, eyes finally met yours— you were shocked to see they were brimmed with raw fresh tears, falling slowly down his cheeks— you didn’t say anything else, just immediately tucking him against your sides so his head was laid on top of your heart and your fingers on his hair.

“Oh it’s okay, shh it’s okay— you’re okay, i’m here just let it out..” You cooed, holding him tightly as he sobbed onto your chest.

~

“Got your pretty dress all wet..” He mumbled as you both were laying down on top of the soft rug near your fireplace on the floor, your cheeks warmed at the sound of his voice, “It doesn’t matter, it’s not that your teardrops are made of paint anyways.”

You both laughed at your answer, laying on each other’s side, eyes locked. You brushed your fingertips across his cheeks, feeling his breath shuddered, “Spencer..” You whispered softly.

“Hm?”

“What happened?” His eyes fluttered shut as he drew in a sharp breath, your fingers were calm and soothing on his skin. “You’ll hate me..” He suddenly whispered, voice shot and it nearly made you cry.

“No, no i won’t. Hey look at me, there you go.. Spencer.. you know i’ll always support you no matter what, and i’ll never judge you of any decision you made because i know you, okay? and i trust you.” You emphasized each word, as your nose brushed against each other— you could care less at the thoughts of breaking regulations now.

“I know Y/N, it’s not that.. it’s just..” He moved back a bit, before intertwining your hand in his and kissed the knuckles, “I missed feeling happy.. missed being.. being able to help.. to talk freely... to sleep without nightmares.. to just—“ His voice trembled as fresh stream of tears threatening to fall upon his skin, you were quick to held his hand tighter so he knows you’re there with him— that you’re real.

“To have a control over my life, over something.. everything is out of place, Y/N... I-I can’t live like this.” You could see it in his eyes, just how much he wanted to feel the control again— to make his own decisions without having the trauma of being drugged by a female serial killer or catched by the police.

“And.. and i can’t stop thinking about..” He stopped as he bit his lip, under the soft glow of the crackling fore— you could see just how pink his cheeks get as he stared at you still, his palm is now pressed against your cheeks, “About what, spencer?” You whispered, feeling overwhelmed already by the warmth of him pressing against you so closely, your heart thrummed against your ribcage like a drum going off on it’s own.

“You... you— one of the only thing that kept me alive.. alive on— you, you i can’t get you out of my mind. I don’t like it..” His lips were practically brushing against yours as you widen your eyes, letting a pained, “Oh..” Left your lip as you came to a realization at what he’s referring to, but before you could get out of his grasp— he cut you off,

“I don’t like it because i can’t do a damn thing about it, Y/N. I don’t like it because i can’t touch you whenever i want, I don’t like it because.. because i’m so used to having things so certain.. all my life, all i want to believe in was numbers, and— and science but the only thing that makes sense right now in my life.. is you.” He craddled your jaw so gently as your forehead pressed against each other.

The room grew quiet after that, just heavy breathing, and both of you savoring the moment, the warmth of each other’s skin. You could hear a pin drop, but the only thing that you heard was his heartbeat that beats at the same pace as yours— fast, and full of desire, pent up desire for each other. His leg tangled itself onto yours as he inch his lips closer so they were practically grazing against each other, before he kissed you softly, softly yet so rough.. Rough as in he was savoring you, indulging in your taste.

The kiss lit you on fire, your skin burned against him as you whimpered softly at the pace of his kiss, it was rushed— yet full of desire, desire to claim each other.. to control you, and if you said you didn’t want it then that would be a lie. Here you are, sober and bright, with his tongue shoved deep inside your mouth, battling dominance— as you submitted to him, letting him to own that control.

When both of your lungs ran out of air, you whined against him, to which he pulled back and pant. Both of you tried to catch your breath, but your whole body is burning with fire— that fire is insatiable, the desire for him is insatiable.

“You said... you need control... let me be your canvas.” You whispered as you put your hands above your head and bit your lip nervously.

The silence returned as he watched you, stared at you, with so much adoration, shock, and lust.. it took him a bit of time to respond to your declaration, his hand wrapped itself on your neck, just held it there with a bit of pressure before whispering, “I’m not going to go easy on you.. are you sure you want this?”

You only smiled, and bat your eyelash at him, whispering, “Don’t hold back, Reid.”

~

Your back was arched in an angle you never knew you could reached, your hips constantly bucking up as your wrist tugged against the belt that tied them up tightly. Here you were, body as nude as day, with your hands tight together on top of your head, your panties shoved deep inside your mouth and the love of your life— the new version of him, has been between your legs for hours now, sucking the poor swollen clit of your cunt, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm that your eyes was wet with tears.

He hummed softly as he felt you clenched around his tongue, and tasting the way you ache and gushed onto his taste buds— groaning at the sweetness. He pressed a soft electrifying kiss on top of your clit that sent you to a sobbing mess before crawling up and pull the panties from your mouth and smile so softly yet so condescendingly.

“Oh princess.. Look at you, your make up is ruined.. look like such a mindless thing,” He taunted, causing you to buck your hips instantly, which earned a chuckle from him, “I didn’t know you would be this much of a depraved desperate whiny little girl, Y/N. I should’ve claimed you sooner.” You were screaming inside your head, telling him yes-yes you should but it’s okay.. i don’t mind now, just please— but the only thing that came out of your sinful bitten raw lips was a small “I’ve always been yours.”

He sees red instantly, hands clamping down your neck, as he pressed his forehead against yours, feeling an overwhelming sense of power— control he’s been craving, and oh how kind were you, the light of his life to serve that control on a silver platter for him— silly thing you are.. of course he’s going to take you in every way possible.

“That’s right you are, keep that in mind, bunny. Try not to scream too loud yeah? hate to bother your neighbor right? how will i explain? that my baby just can’t take it when she get fucked til she goes mindless?”

Just as you were about to answer, his cock pushed past your tight entrance, so suddenly and deep that you yelled, yelled with pure pleasure of being stretched— burning with pleasure, “Oh! Spencer!” Your eyes rolled back to your skull, as he groaned, “Fuck— you’re so fucking tight angel, oh there’s a good little slut for me.”

At that, he began to thrust into you, so fast yet so deep, your lips wrapped itself around his thumb as he fuck the sanity out of you, feeling the overwhelming amount of raw pleasure— and love at the same time.

“Mmm! take me! oh god so deep, so— fuck!” You moaned after he pulled his thumb back, cultching your wrists together as the head of his cock hit that spot— the spot that has you seeing stars. He smiled as he keeps on working his thrusts “Yeah? yeah right there baby?”

“Y-Oh! yes, please please” Your whines were half coherent, but neither of you cared, nor complained, the only thing in your minds right now is to indulge in this burning fire of a pleasure, to relinquished control.

“Good girl, so fucking tight for me Y/N— god i love you..” He said it— said it, as his thrust became sloppier, yet somewhat deeper, his face were on your neck— biting a huge amount of marks, marks that’ll make sure everyone knows you’re his.

“I love you! i loveyou! god i—“ You were cut off as his other hand reach down to rub your clit fast, sending you into a spasm fit, back arched, nipples against his sweaty chest and the walls of your cunt clenched around his cock so tightly that it brings him to the very edge.

“Cum baby, cum for me, good- fucking girl do it.” He whispered, walls breaking down as he hold himself back as you cum, cum so hard around his cock that you were silent— only letting a very high pitched chants of his names, which brought him to his own release, coating— painting your walls with his cum, claiming you inside and out.

You both tried to catch your breath as he tried to pull out, in which you whined, “No.. wanna— wanna— ugh please?” Your glassy eyes were looking at him with such a pure adoration, pure submission, that he softly smiled and propped your both to your side with his softening cock still nestled deep inside your cunt.

You sighed as he unclasp his belt, bringing your wrist down to kiss them one by one. “I love you.. i do, i truly do Y/N.” He whispered, eyes looking at yours as you smiled widely, nodding and lightly sniffling.

“Hey.. dont cry, shh shh come here baby, hey hey.. are we taking turns to cry now?” He chuckled against your hair as he pulled you close, embraced you in his arm which you giggled at and pushed his chest a bit, before nuzzling your noses together,

“I’ve always loved you, Spencer Reid, and i always will.”

——

Oh my god!!! i know its not like the actual req, i changed it up a bit i hope whoever you are, you won’t mind!! anyways, thank you so much for requesting i love you! and thank you everyone for reading.

I’m gettting through my reqs right now, so if you requested in the past few weeks, expect them to be out soon! I love you all, blurb and tag list is always open. ❤️

[starryevermore]

secret santa ✧ colby brock

pairing: colby brock x reader

request: Only if requests are open can we get colby trying to find the reader the perfect Christmas gift and reader is doing the same thing. And maybe they get each other matching gucci rings by coincidence and end up dating

summary: you and colby accidentally get each other matching gifts.

word count: 616

warnings?: none that I’m aware of

note: this takes place in a world without a pandemic. if you want to request I write anything, you can do so: here.

When you drew Colby’s name for Secret Santa, you cursed to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Colby. In fact, you cared more for him than you probably should have. It’s just... Picking out the perfect gift for Colby was a challenge. The man had particular taste. He would never act unappreciative for a gift, of course, but you wanted this to be perfect. You wanted it to be something he’d actually enjoy and get use out of. 

You scoured the Internet, searched countless stores, trying to find something he (a) didn’t already have and (b) would be loved by him. Finally, after weeks of searching, you settled on a gorgeous ring from Gucci that you were sure would fit his aesthetic. You got Colby’s ring size from Sam and placed the order. Now, all that was left to do was wait.

When it came time to exchange gifts, you were buzzing with excitement. You’d taken great care in wrapping the box in the perfect wrapping paper and finding the perfect bow and just making everything perfect. And, when you placed the gift under the tree at the Trap House, you made sure that it wouldn’t get crushed or otherwise ruined by any of the other gifts.

Once everyone had arrived, one by one, a person would get their gift and guess who it was from. A lot of the friends had gotten each other gag gifts, but there were a few sweet ones, too. Tara had gotten Kat a pair of earrings and some makeup she’d been eyeing. Kevin got Reggie a new video game. Reggie had gotten Xepher a small collection of tiny hands. You know, the sweetest of things. Eventually, the only people left who hadn’t gotten their gifts yet were you and Colby, and you two were coincidentally the only people who hadn’t given gifts yet.

“Well, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say Colby’s my Secret Santa,” you joked, grabbing your present from under the tree. 

“Nah, I’m my own Secret Santa,” he teased, also grabbing his present.

The two of you took your seats on the couch. “Want to open at the same time?” you asked.

He agreed and the two of you ripped open the wrapping paper together. Your gift also turned out to be from Gucci, which made you laugh as you opened the box. But, when you looked inside, you couldn’t believe it.

You and Colby looked up simultaneously, jaws dropped.

“Damn, looks like we got the same style,” you said.

“What? What is it?” Kat asked, trying to find out what you had gotten each other.

The two of you turned your boxes at the same time, revealing that you both had gotten the same ring from Gucci. The only difference was Colby’s ring was a bit larger than yours, but other than that? The exact same.

After a few more jokes were cracked, everyone began to branch off and hang out. You were in the middle of trying on the ring when Colby came to sit beside you.

“Hey, bub,” you greeted. “Hope you like the ring!”

He snorted. “Yeah, we’re practically halfway to couple territory now.” 

You weren’t sure what came over you, but you said, “Well, we might as well go all the way to couple territory now.”

His eyebrows shot up and the reality of your words settled in. You began to panic and apologize, but was stopped when he said, “I’m going back to Kansas in a couple days, but when I get back do you want to go on a date?”

Your face grew warm as a shy smile curled upwards. “Yeah, yeah I’d like that.”

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

“Compromise”

Spike x Summers! Reader

Warnings: language, make out scene, implied sex, nothing more than PG-13

Description: You hate bullies. Always have. You and Spike get into it when he continues joking about murdering your friends.

“Don’t go.”

You’re tangled up on the crypt’s couch after a long day of you studying and Spike trying to distract you from studying, but now your homework’s finished and it’s time for you to meet the gang at the Bronze.

“You could come with me,” you say, pushing him off of you lightly and standing up. Your notes and textbooks are littered across the floor from some unconventional study methods that took place earlier in the day, and you kneel to scoop them into your backpack.

Spike spreads out on the couch in the space you’ve left behind. “No thanks, love. I can barely keep myself from biting them now, even with the bloody chip. If Buffy and Riley make eyes at each other one more time in my presence, I might have to go for the jugular.”

It’s a small comment, no worse than some of the other things he’s said about them, but it rubs you the wrong way. It’s not so much that you thought he would stop hating your friends once you got together as you thought he would respect you enough to not hate them so loudly.

Your textbook thumps to the floor as you straighten, scowling. “Listen, I know you don’t like the Scoobies, but they’re my friends. You don’t have to come with me, but you can’t talk about them like that.”

Spike blinks at you. Then a slow grin slithers across his face. His fingers wrap around your wrist, drawing you toward his lap. “Hey, don’t be jealous. You know that if I got to bite anyone, you’d be my first—”

You yank out of his grip and pull on the straps of your backpack. “It’s not funny. Everyone else I’ve dated has gotten along fine with my friends. I mean, sure, they’ve noticed that Buffy gets into a lot of fights and Willow is into some darker stuff, but they would never try to isolate me from them. They’d make an effort, because they knew it was important to me.”

“Well, I’m not like everyone else you’ve dated, am I?” He gestures to the crypt, to his incisors. “The Slayer and I are natural enemies, in case you’ve forgotten. And by extension, her friends are my enemies, too.”

“And by extension,” you mimic, drawing your vowels out too much in a clumsy attempt at his accent. “So am I.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Your hands are planted on your hips now. You still have to change clothes and drop your backpack off at the house, so you’re definitely going to be late, but this conversation has been building up for awhile. You’re glad, in a sort of angry spiteful way, that it’s finally out in the open. “Because Buffy, Dawn, and I are blood. You can’t separate us. And you wanting to, that’s not love. That’s possession.”

He sits up at that, and you backpedal, taking two steps toward the door. You’re not afraid of him, but you are afraid of what he’s going to say. Of how you’ll respond. Blood is rushing to your head, making you rash. Despite the cold of the mausoleum, you’re red hot.

“So now you don’t think I love you?”

The words hang between you, thickening the air with heat and tension. His sleeves are rolled to his forearms and you can see his veins pop slightly when his fist clenches. He’s trying to keep calm, but it’s a struggle for him. It reminds you of just how quickly the tables could turn if he ever gets the chip out.

“You treat me like a man,” he says, after a beat too long of silence. “And I’m not talking about the little bit. I’m talking about them.” He spits the word out like it’s poisonous, like he needs to get the taste it leaves out of his mouth.

“Maybe they’d be more likely to treat you like a man if you stopped being such a—”

No. You can’t go there. You won’t come back from it.

You suck in a deep breath, square your shoulders.

“I don’t want to fight,” you say, even though you really, really do. Both of you have been itching for it. Things have been almost domestic lately, which would be nice if you hadn’t spent the past few years always waiting for the other shoe to drop. You don’t know what to do with comfortable. Neither does he. “I’m going to go meet the others at the Bronze. I’ll see you later.”

“Fine.” He picks the remote off the coffee table and flicks the TV on, drowns out your footsteps with a crime show that opens with gunshots, makes you flinch.

Outside the crypt, you pull a stake from your bag and begin your walk home. You’re not worried about anything attacking you. You’re angry enough to hold your own. But you’re also not stupid, and it would suck if your night out was interrupted by another kidnapping. After you stop by the house to slip into something less comfortable, you go straight for the club.

The building is crowded with sweaty teenagers. The band on stage tonight is a good one and the music is so loud that you can hear it thrumming in your chest, taste it in your mouth. You dance your way through the throng to your friends’ table. Xander, Anya, Willow, Tara, and Dawn are squished around a formica top, laughing and drinking and having such a good time that your bad mood dissipates. You pull up a stool and Xander wraps an arm over your shoulder.

“We were starting to think you weren’t coming,” Xander says. He’s got a fruity cocktail in front of him that makes you smile.

“I got a little held up. I’m going to get a drink. Does anyone else want anything?”

“I’ll take a margarita,” Dawn says hopefully, and you narrow your eyes until she revises. “A coke would be good.”

“Uh huh.”

You drape your jacket over your stool and stand back up. On your way to the bar, you spot Buffy and Riley on the dance floor. They look a little stiff, but you’re proud of them for making an effort. Things between them have been tense ever since Faith slept with him.

Thinking of Faith makes your need for a drink extra strong. You throw back a shot at the bar and then get another to go, almost forgetting to grab Dawn’s soda. The bartender is flirty tonight. He’s cute, clean-cut. You’ve seen him around before, always hard at work, making people laugh with his jokes and getting them to open up. If you didn’t have Spike, you’d take the number he slides your way. As it is, you shake your head and smile.

“Sorry,” you say, and he seems to understand, going back to mixing drinks and chatting up customers. It’s nice, to have someone take your no at face-value for once.

When you get back to the table, you’re surprised to see Spike in your spot. Even though his discomforted expression verges on constipated, he’s carrying on a conversation with Xander. Well, they’re bickering, but you know for a fact that Spike could be a lot more cutting if he wanted to.

You slide Dawn’s coke across to her and flick Xander’s ear when he insults your boyfriend.

“Hey!” He clasps his hand to the reddened cartilage and Anya rubs his shoulder soothingly, although the corners of her lips twitch.

The aren’t any chairs left and the table isn’t all that big anyway, so you stay standing, watching Spike’s face intently when your sister launches into a story about a friend of a friend at school who swears the girls’ bathroom is haunted. He’s nodding in all the right places, interjecting with “bullshit!” and “bloody hell!” to egg her on. He’s laying it on a bit thick, really, but it warms you better than the alcohol.

Dawn’s eating it up, though. She’s not often the center of attention for anything mundane. It’s always about her being the key, never about her as a person. Xander’s rolling his eyes at Spike’s sudden rapt attention, but you think it’s sweet.

When Tara makes a joke that no one else gets, Spike booms with laughter. When Willow goes off on a tangent about her computer class, he almost nods his head off. Finally, the group dissolves as Xander and Anya sneak off to have sex and Willow and Tara twirl on the dance floor.

You stay with Dawn, unwilling to leave her on her own with Glory around. Spike keeps the conversation flowing, but his questions about school are clumsy and his small talk is bumbling. It’s endearing for awhile, how little he understands today’s education system, but you turn the topic to generalities when Dawn kicks you under the table. She respects Spike, in her own strange way, and she’ll be embarrassed if he knows how poorly she’s doing.

Then it’s all favorite movies and gossip and dirty jokes, keeping the conversation light even as you have to shout to be heard over the music. You don’t even tell him off when he details one of his old world murders to Dawn, figuring that she’ll hear—and see—worse in her lifetime.

When Buffy and Riley come back to the table for a breather, the awkwardness creeps back in. After Spike flounders for the fourth time while trying to find a safe ground to land on, with Buffy and Riley both giving him the stink eye, you drag him off to a more secluded spot under the stairs.

“I promise I wasn’t trying to offend Sargeant Square,” Spike says, holding up his hands. “I thought everyone liked to bitch about work. I didn’t know he had been demoted.”

Instead of answering, you rise up on your tiptoes and press a kiss to his mouth. His hands cup your cheeks automatically, but before he can pull you into something more heated, you lean back.

“I want to say thank you, before I forget,” you say. You wrap your arms around his waist, slip a hand into his back pocket teasingly. “And I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t do it for them.” His fingers trail down your neck, tangle briefly in your hair, squeeze your curves. Everyone’s too drunk to notice or care what you’re doing, so you allow it. “I still don’t like them.”

“That’s okay. We’ll work our way up to that.” He rolls his eyes, but he’s not in a bad mood, so you push your luck with a cheeky smile. “I can’t be your only friend.”

He scoffs. “I have lots of friends. You’ve just— you’ve never met them, because they’re dangerous.”

This strikes you as funny and you kiss him again, longer this time. Being here under the stairs, buzzed, wearing an outfit that’s maybe slightly too revealing, finding a slice of peace in the middle of a war, it’s all so good. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you’re so happy. You need to tell him something, but you don’t know if you have the words to convey exactly what you want. You try anyway.

“The bartender hit on me earlier.”

Spike grins unexpectedly. His teeth seem very sharp. You’re worried he might have eaten the man somehow when you weren’t looking when he says, “I saw.”

“I want you to know I didn’t—” You’re not drunk, certainly not drunk from only two drinks even though they were Bronze strength, but it takes you a minute. “Guys like that used to be my type. But I didn’t even think about it. I only want you.”

“That’s the only reason why I didn’t kill him. That and the chip.”

“That’s not funny,” you say, but he’s holding you in his arms and smiling down at you like he’s going to swallow you whole and it is, a little, because for the first time you’re sure he doesn’t mean it. He trusts you. And you trust him.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t protest when he leaves to go buy you another drink.

[breanime]

Getting Back with Jax Teller Headcannons

*gif not mine*

Ohhhh man

Ohhh boy

Ohhhh jeez

When Jax looked up, a crow eater planted firmly on his lap, her lips stretched in a wide grin against his, and he saw you across the room

Homeboy knew he fucked up

He stood up, dropping the crow eater on her ass

He expected you to run out

He was already prepped to chase you

But instead, you swallowed down your drink, dropped the glass on the bar, and walked over to him, face calm

But as you got closer, and Jax tried to tell you that she just jumped him, it meant nothing--

--he saw your eyes

And he knew he was doomed

“Don’t bother coming to get your shit,” you told him, “It’s all getting fed to the fire tonight.”

And then you walked off

He was so stunned, he didn’t even chase you

Instead, he retired to his dorm with a handle of bourbon and quietly panicked for the rest of the night

In the morning, hung over and nervous, he made Juice drive him to your place

The first thing he noticed was the fire pit in the middle of the driveway, and when he got closer to inspect it...

...Yup--that was his shit amongst the soot and ashes.

Great.

When he knocked on your door, your best friend answered--

--and verbally ripped him a new one

“I knew you were no good for her,” she’d concluded, “but she said you loved her, and she loved you, so I kept my mouth shut, but now,” she leaned in, sneering over at him, “I get to say ‘I told you so’.” She leaned back, her eyes full of hatred. “Fuck off, biker boy.”

So he did

For now.

But he came back, after a nap, a shower, and a meal forced upon him from Gemma

You were outside, dragging a garbage bag to the end of your driveway, and Jax had a feeling his non-flammable shit was in that bag

He hopped off of his bike, taking a breath

“Baby, I can explain--”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, one hand on your hip. “Do I have to spell it out for you? I don’t want you anymore, Jax. And clearly you don’t want me; we’re over.”

“No,” he felt his heart constrict in his chest, and he took another breath, trying to calm himself, “That’s not true. Last night was--baby, it was a mistake! I was drunk, and high, and--”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you said, walking past him, dragging the bag with you, “I’m not Tara or Wendy or your mom, okay? You fuck up with me once; that’s it. You don’t get to just bat your eyes and get forgiven.”

“Well what do I need to do, then?” He asked, heart pounding. “Just tell me, and I’ll do it.”

You rolled your eyes

“No, I’m serious,” he went on, reaching out to you

You stepped back, avoiding his touch, and Jax nearly fell to his knees at the action

Shit shit shit

“Please,” he said, dropping his hand, “Baby, please. I need you. I know you’re not Tara or Wendy or any fucking crow eater-- I love you. I’m in love with you, and I need you.” He say your eyes soften, and he kept talking, hoping his words could thaw you. “I’ll do anything to prove that what happened last night will never happen again--I swear.”

Sighing, you dropped the bag

“I can’t have you out here disrespecting me,” you said, “I can’t be afraid to turn my back on you because I don’t trust you--”

“--But you can,” he swore, “You can trust me, Y/N, I promise you can.”

You sighed again

You loved Jax, you did, but you couldn’t tolerate his shitty treatment of you

“I’m not one of your guys,” you went on, “Just because you have that patch and that gavel, doesn’t mean everything you say or do is law.”

“I know,” he agreed, “I know. Just... Please, let me make this up to you. I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

You bit your lip, and Jax knew you were considering it

Finally, you spoke:

“Fine. But I need you to fuck off. I need some space from you, at least for a few days.”

He nodded, ready to agree to anything

“I’m serious, Jax. I don’t want to see you, or Juice, or Chibs, or Gemma until I’m ready.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“And I need you to send me my things,” you went on

Jax deflated at that--giving you your stuff back, the clothes, makeup, books and other shit you’d left at his place or his dorm--seemed really final

“We’re not getting back together just because you said so,” you told him, “So as of now, we’re still not together. But if you listen, and want to try to get back to where we were... I’ll let you.”

Jax swallowed. He could do that.

He would do that

Hell, he’d do anything for the slim chance to be with you again

It hadn’t even been a full day since you’d dumped him, and he was already desperate for you

So he agreed

Per your instructions, he mailed you all of your things

He also didn’t see you or speak to you for five long days

(It was hard, but keeping Gemma from getting her claws into you was even harder. But he manged it)

On day six, you asked him if he knew anyone who could fix your water heater

Jax was at your place with a tool kit and Happy within the hour

“Anything you need,” Jax told you, “Just call me. I’ll always be here for you, darlin’“

So you did--and Jax kept his word

When you needed something fixed around the house, Jax was there

When you were hungry at work, he would bring you lunch

If he was on a run or busy with club stuff, he’d send one of the guys or a prospect in his stead

He checked in on you throughout the day, asking if you needed anything and listening when you complained about your coworkers

A month into this, you kissed him on the cheek when he showed up at your job with a bouquet of flowers just because

Jax could have passed out, he was so happy

The real test came a few weeks later, when you asked him if he’d go to your best friend’s house to rid her of a pest

When Jax got there, he was surprised to see that the pest was her ex-boyfriend’s current girlfriend

Apparently she was involved in some kind of love triangle

It took everything in him not to rub her drama in her face, but he didn’t

Instead, he got rid of the gf and actually sat down with your friend and told her she deserved better than to be some asshole’s side chick

She cried into his shoulder

When he got on his bike to leave, she stopped him

She only had one thing to say, but it meant the world to Jax

“I was wrong about you”

That night, you let Jax back into your bed, and he spent the entire night showing you how much he loved and missed you

He told you, too

And though you didn’t say “I love you” back, he knew you did--

--he could feel it

You didn’t let him stay the night, though

You handed him his jeans with a smile

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” you said

Jax spent most of the next day checking his phone, hoping to see your name flash across the screen

All the guys knew he was waiting for you call

So they couldn’t help but fuck with him

Opie stole his phone and hid it for a good 30 minutes, which resulted in them wrestling in the middle of the bar until Gemma hit them both over the head with her purse

Juice--on orders from Clay--blocked the cell service at the club house for 15 minutes, and the guys took a shot every time Jax cursed in anger at the situation

They were drunk for the rest of the afternoon

Bobby, Chibs, Hap, and Opie all pretended to get calls from you, making Jax so frustrated, he almost pulled his hair out of his hair

But then you called--for real

And everything in Jax’s world felt right

“I was thinking,” you said, your voice sweet and warm in his ear, “I don’t think I’m ready to get back together with you yet...”

His heart sank

“...but maybe we can go on a date?”

And so Jax started courting you all over again

Dates

Gifts

Sex that ended in you gently kicking him out

It was frustrating, but he was determined to win you back

Plus it was kind of nice starting over with you

Jax felt like he learned new things about you--and himself--through the process

And then, one day, when the two of you ran into one of your coworkers at a restaurant, you introduced him as 

“Jax, my boyfriend”

And that night, you let him spend the night with you

In the morning, Jax woke you up with kisses, crawling over you and covering your body with his

And he knew, as you wrapped your arms around him and whispered “I love you” back to him

--that he would never do anything to lose you again

And as time went on...

...he didn’t

Lessons, it seemed, were learned. 

*******************************************************************************************

Thanks for reading! I feel like my headcannon lists are always long as hell... so...sorry about that? haha!

Everything Taglist: @encounterthepast​ @jigsawlover10​ @gollyderek​  @charlylama @realduckvader​ @teacuplotus @whovianayesha​  @lexxierave​ @loveintheroyalfamily  @fanfictionrecommendations-com​  @maxslime-blog​ @songforhema​ @lucielandss @themadhatter92​  @christinawxxx​ @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @luminex3​ @ashkuuuu​ @luckysstrikes​ @carlaangel86​ @floralpeaceofmind @dylanobrusso @iaintnofurry  @ymariejp @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @mrsjaxtellerfan​ @holamor @drinix @rhabakoli @stories-you-wont-hear @king4thesirens @leahnicole1219 @evanlys19  @binbons-is-theloml @aikeia @bitch-imma-head-out  @witchygagirl @geeksareunique

Jax Taglist: @nich0lasmatthews​  @melissataggart87​ @jaxteller87​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @mrsjaxtellerfan​ @itsme-autumn​  @mydemons-aremy-friends​

[baseballbitch116]

Hot Encounters

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Prompt: Y/N and some of the others try to cool down on a particularly hot summer day - until someone ruins it

Request: Hello again ^O^ Can I request Daryl fluff where the reader says I'm so in love with you now shut up and kiss me? ( 35 and 34 prompt) maybe have Daryl be a bit pissy and jealous and the reader thinking hes adorable and says the prompts?

Word Count: 1777

Warnings: Confrontation, slightly jealous/protective Daryl, tiny bit of suggestiveness - sfw

A/N: Hey babe! Sorry this took so long to get to, I’m the worst! I really liked writing this, I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist

Fandoms I Write For | Send Me A Request! | Support My Blog | Coming Soon

It had to be nearing a hundred degrees out today. The sun was beaming down relentlessly, not a cloud in the sky - making it the hottest day of the summer yet. You were busy most of the day, and just your luck it was all outdoor work. Everyone was dripping in sweat as you worked in the crops and on building up weak spots in the fences. Your hair was matted down to your face by the time that you finished. Rick decided to call it a day, seeing as it was unbearably hot and sunny. One of the woman from Alexandria mentioned that she was planning on swimming in the pond at the center of the community, which sounded like an amazing idea to you.

“Do you guys have any bathing suits or anything?” You question as you follow her alongside Tara and Maggie.

“Of course!” She exclaims, acting as though it is absurd of you to assume that they did not. You exchange a look with your friends, catching Tara’s smirk and Maggie’s eye roll, but remaining silent as you continue to follow the woman.

Apparently the community had some sort of “clothing bank,” where they kept any clothes that someone may want. There were dresses, shorts, bathing suits, socks, all kinds of miscellaneous stuff. Eventually you found a bathing suit in your size, a plain black bikini. The four of you changed and headed out to the pond with your clothes and towels. It felt very odd to be walking around in so minimal clothes - you hadn’t worn a bathing suit in so long now. You felt a little self conscious being so exposed, not missing the bewildered look Rick shot you guys when you passed him at the house.

You chuckled bashfully as he shook his head at you guys and headed inside the house.

You wished that Daryl would join you in the pond, but you knew that all the begging in the world would not get that man in there. You carefully dipped your feet down into the water, the mud squishing under your toes as you inch into the pond. The water was not as cold as you were expecting, but it was still very refreshing. The woman, Maria, dove into the water, splashing all of you in the process. “Oh my gosh!” Tara exclaims, jumping up and down in the water as she wiped her wet face off. You and Maggie laugh as she dramatically rubs her arms.

“It’s not that cold!” You taunt your friend with a smile.

“Oh really?” She counters, stalking toward you with an evil grin.

“No!” You shout, attempting to run away from her in the waist-high water. The four of you ended up in a splashing war, laughing hysterically and drawing the attention of the other residents. Eventually, Spencer Glenn and Carl joined in, stripping their shirts away instead of changing into suits. You were oblivious to some of the residents sitting out on their porches or stopping as they walked by to watch you guys.

After a while of splashing and dunking, Spencer suggested playing chicken. You were a little apprehensive at first but ended up agreeing. It was supposed to be Maggie and Glenn versus you and Spencer, with Tara, Maria and Carl sitting it out off to the side. You couldn’t deny that Spencer was a good looking young man, and his body certainly was nice - but you weren’t entirely comfortable climbing onto his shoulders. You worried what Daryl would think if he saw you in the compromising position, making you hesitant to play the game with him. You wouldn’t mind if Tara was your partner but Spencer was insistent - which made you even more uncomfortable.

“Oh come on Y/N,” He insists once again. Maggie exchanges a look with you, sensing your discomfort.

“It’s fine, we don’t have to play.” Maggie starts.

“What? You think I’m gonna bite?” Spencer asks, seemingly offended.

“It’s not that, it’s because I’m with Daryl.” You explain, hoping he will back off and understand. Instead, he rolls his eyes and catches an attitude.

“So? He won’t let you play a game?” He remarks. You raise a brow at him, not pleased with his tone. Glenn moves forward in the water closer to your side to face Spencer until he is interrupted.

“Hey!” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. “She said she don’t wanna.” Daryl growls, approaching you guys at the pond. He is wearing his vest and a black button down with the sleeves cut off, his hair greasy and body sweaty. Despite looking disheveled, he looks incredible sexy as he approaches you. You move to step out of the water and he reaches his hand down to help you out, which you graciously accept. You step up the slight hill, his large hand helping you up easily as his other holds your exposed back. You face him as you stand beside him, the humid air already heating your body back up.

“Chill out. It’s not that serious.” Spencer says. You don’t miss how he is clenching his jaw and tensing his muscles. You wonder whether he is flexing to try to look intimidating or if he’s just tense. Daryl moves to take a step forward but you react quick, grabbing hold of his bicep and shaking your head at him.

“Seriously, man? And you wonder why she didn’t wanna?” Glenn comments, shooting Spencer a look as he leads Maggie and Carl out of the pond.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted.” Maria mumbles as she exits as well. Spencer looks pissed off and you decide to get out of here before Daryl gets too angry. You give his large bicep a tug before leaning down to grab your clothes and the towel.

Daryl shoots Spencer one last glare before placing his hand on your lower back, leading you over toward the house. He takes the towel from your arm and wraps it over your shoulders, covering up your body as you walk. You smirk up at him and he only rolls his eyes, remaining silent. “I don’t trust that prick.” He mutters hoarsely as he steps up the porch, grabbing the door and waiting for you to walk inside. 

You only smile as you walk ahead of him into the kitchen, tossing the towel over a stool before opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of tap-water. You turn around and lean against the cool counter, eyeing Daryl as he stands there, shifting his weight and chewing on his bottom lip. You take notice of his eyes on you, nearly hidden behind his long hair. A smirk breaks out on your face as you set the water down, motioning him to come over with your finger. He stares at you for a moment before striding over to you, stopping a step away. You take his hand and pull him in so that he is standing directly in front of you.

You wrap your arms around his torso and look up at him with a smile. “I’m in love with you. Not him.” You say, looking up into his blue eyes, your arms holding him close. He stares at you for a long moment, a smile toying at his lips that he tries to fight back before dropping his eyes from the tension building. He does not touch you but does not pull away from your arms either.

Despite your time together, he would still hesitate in intimate moments like these. You remove your arms and grab onto his, wrapping them around your bare waist before placing your arms back around him, leaning your head into his warm chest. He leans his chin against your head and moves his hands to hold your waist more securely, hugging you back.

“He just wants to get into your pants. Ain’t no reason he needa be touchin ya.” He mutters in your hair. You roll your eyes and let out a laugh before leaning back to look up at him again.

“You’re the only one with that privilege, hun.” You respond, grinning when you see his gaze drop again and cheeks turn slightly pink. Daryl raises one hand to brush your wet hair out of your face, relaxing in your arms as you lean into his touch.

“Damn right,” He mutters after a moment, shocking you when he suddenly lifts you up by your bare thighs and places you on the counter-top, bringing you eye to eye with the archer. You grin and let out a giggle, taken aback by his burst of confidence. Daryl smiles lightly, a sigh for sore eyes, and you recognize the content on his face - goosebumps raising over your skin as he holds one large hand over your exposed hip. You lazily toss your arms over his wide shoulders and lean in slightly, a shy grin toying with your lips as you tempt him.

“You’re cute when you’re possessive,” you whisper, your face inches from his own. His blue orbs drop to your lips before looking back into your own eyes. He shrugs his shoulders before taking a small step forward, his body heat radiating off onto you. “Now, please shut up and kiss me.” You mutter with a playful grin, leaning in close enough that your lips are nearly touching, but not quite. You feel Daryl’s hot breath on your own lips, your heart racing in your chest as you look up into his eyes. You spot his lips curve back up into a content sideways smirk before he closes the gap between the two of you, finally pressing his warm lips against your own.

His lips are soft, unlike the rest of him, and move slowly against your own. You lean into his touch, melting into the slow, sweet kiss, his beard lightly scratching at your face - but you enjoy the combination of feelings. Your fingers tangle into his messy mop of hair affectionately, emitting a low groan from his lips that your own mouth captures. His fingers leave a trail of goosebumps as they climb up your bare hips to your waist, holding you close as he stands between your legs.

Daryl pulls away before things can get too heavy, resting his forehead on yours. “Yer gonna be the death of me, woman.” He mutters, making you giggle as he moves away enough for you to look up at his flustered face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. The way he looks into your eyes and leans into your hand is enough for you to know exactly how he is feeling. You know how much Daryl loves you...

---

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[scottybrock]

Right Here - Colby Brock

A/N: Requested by a lovely, brave anon: “Hey so I had kinda an uncomfy experience at work... if you have time or find inspiration from this could you maybe write something about Colby’s girlfriend, who is a hostess at a pub getting hit on by a pushy drunk old man while he’s there ? No pressure to write if you don’t wanna I just thought angry Colby would be *chefs kiss*” 

You sighed as you cleared the bar. You carefully dumped the empty glasses into the sink in the kitchen. The cook of the pub smiled at you appreciatively, glad that he wouldn’t have to brave the drunken crowd. “Thanks,” He beamed at you. You smiled back at him. “No problem. Just wanted to help out as much as I could,” You replied. You wiped your hands on a discarded towel and headed back into the bar, preparing yourself for the night-time rush. 

Your phone chimed with a text, and you pulled your phone out of your pocket. You smiled down at the screen. Colby, Sam, Jake, Tara, and Katrina were coming to visit you at work, and so the guys could grab a drink. You were considerably cheered by this, and set to work with a little more gusto. You cleaned the already sparkling glasses, then rearranged the liquor bottles that were behind you. 

Finally, you saw a ringed hand slid a debit card onto the bar out of the corner of your eye and you whirled around, a wide smile spreading across your face. Colby grinned back at you, his bright blue eyes glittering under the dim lighting in the bar. “Hey baby,” Colby greeted. Katrina and Tara were pouting, as they weren’t of legal age to buy a drink, and they didn’t want to risk your job by asking you to make them one. 

“Hi,” You beamed back. You immediately reached for a bottle of whiskey behind you and poured it into an elegant-looking glass. Colby’s smile widened, and he downed the whiskey in a single gulp. Your eyes traced the outlines of his handsome face, and your heart melted at the sight of those perfect lips wrapping around the rim of the glass. You grabbed his glass and refilled it, then made Jake and Sam their drinks of choice. 

Tara pouted, then drummed her nails on the bar table-top. “I guess I’ll just have a glass of cranberry juice,” She sighed. She eyed the bottle of vodka behind you, then sighed again. Katrina smiled at you. “I’ll just have a diet coke,” She told you. You hurriedly fixed them their drinks. Sam smiled at you, then nudged his glass towards you. “How’s your day been?” He asked, resting his chin in one hand. Colby leaned forward, interested as well. Jake snuck Tara a sip of his drink, and you quickly averted your eyes, pretending not to notice. 

“It’s been kind of slow,” You replied. You poured yourself a glass of water, then gulped half of the glass down in one sip. “But-” 

You were cut off by a gross, disheveled-looking man letting out a low whistle. Your brows furrowed, and you glanced sharply over at the man. He leered at you, his eyes dark and full of ill-intent. You shot him a polite smile. Colby frowned, his brows furrowing as he watched you carefully. 

You made your way over to the gross dude. “Hi, what can I get for you?” You asked, your voice falsely chipper. The man continued to leer at him. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy, and when he spoke, his voice was slurred. “You can get me your number,” He slurred. Your nose wrinkled in response, and you forced a smile across your face. “I meant your drink, sir.” You replied, your fingers tightening on the edge of the bar. The man rolled his eyes, then ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want a drink,” He replied. “I want your phone number.” 

Your grip tightened on the edge of the bar even more. “I have a boyfriend,” You answered, the smile dropping from your face. The man snorted, rolling his eyes again. “He doesn’t have to know,” The man tried to flash you his most charming grin, but it looked more like a leer. You fought the urge to spit in his face. “I’m not interested.” You replied. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Colby’s shoulders tense. Sam and Jake stopped chatting, watching the situation carefully. Sam had one hand on Colby’s shoulder, as if to keep him in place. Jake’s jaw was clenched, and Katrina and Tara looked worried. 

The man’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t give a fuck,” He growled. “Gimme your fucking number, bitch. You’re supposed to be serving me, now fucking serve me!” You cried out in pain, trying to tug your wrist away from the man, but his grip was strong. He squeezed your wrist even tighter. 

As soon as the strangled cry left your throat, Colby sprang up, tearing himself from Sam’s grip. He stormed towards you, his bright blue eyes dark and concerned. Jake followed him. Katrina gripped Sam’s hand, but Tara followed after her boyfriend, her eyes practically pitch black with rage. 

“Let go of her,” Colby growled. The man ignored him, until Colby shoved him so hard, he practically fell over, stumbling. Jake hovered by Colby, his expression menacing. Tara flitted over to you, her smaller hand reaching for yours. Katrina hurried over, Sam following right behind her, his eyes fixed on Colby. 

The man regained his footing, then swung at Colby. Colby deftly dodged his blow, then delievered a punch to the douchebag’s jaw. Katrina and Tara were inspecting your bruising wrist. Your boss had come over to see what was going on, his eyes landing on your teary face and bruising wrist. 

Your boss scowled at the man on the ground. Colby was standing over him, his fists still clenched. Your boss hurried over, then spoke softly to Colby, gesturing towards you. Colby’s eyes flitted over to you, his expression softening measurably. Jake nudged him in your direction, then turned to your boss. Sam hurried away to get ice for your wrist and Colby’s hand. 

You hardly noticed the man being escorted outside, to wait for the police sirens. Your boss tossed you a warm smile, his hands firmly holding onto the man’s arms, practically tossing him around until they reached the front doors of the bar.

You ran from around the bar and flung yourself into Colby’s arms. Colby held you tightly, frowning when he felt your body trembling. “It’s okay baby,” Colby murmured, rocking the two of you back and forth. You tightened your grip on Colby, letting out a soft whimper. The sound broke his heart, and his arms tightened around you. You felt safe, secure, for the first time since the man walked in, in Colby’s arms. 

Jake, Sam, Katrina, and Tara moved away, giving you and Colby a moment, giving you a moment to recollect yourself. 

“It’s okay,” Colby repeated. The whole world seemed to melt away as you snuggled closer to him. “I’m here, baby, I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He lifted your bruising wrist to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to it. Your free hand was gripping at his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer. His fingers traced delicately over the fingerprints that were imprinted into your beautiful skin. 

“Colby,” You whimpered. Colby gently grasped your chin with his fingers, tilting your face upwards so he was looking into your eyes. “I’m right here, baby.” Colby’s voice was soft, sweet. His bright blue eyes scanned your face, softening at the sight of your tear-streaked face. “I love you. You’re safe now.” 

You burrowed yourself back into Colby’s arms. “I love you too,” Your voice was soft. You relaxed in his arms. “Thank you for loving me.” What went unspoken but not over Colby’s head, was the way you were thanking him for protecting you. For defending you, when you couldn’t defend yourself. 

“How could I not?” Colby replied easily, his fingers trailing up and down your back soothingly. “You make it pretty damn easy to.”

[shadybagelsludgecolor]

Last Words to My Love [Gn!Reader x Spencer Reid]

A/N: This is inspired by a tiktok chain I saw so please bare with me. Also I'm really not good at heartbreak writing so..... this is this and yeah. WOAH wrote this in an hour

Summary: Reader is on borrowed time after being fatally wounded. They say their goodbye’s with Spencer. 

Pairing: Reid x Gn!Reader

Rating: sad but sweet.

My [short] masterlist can be found here.

Warning:  Idk , Death, angst, murder, cursing, sad ending. 

Word Count: 1.3k

Today was the day Spencer lost himself. The day it was all too much. The day the weight on his shoulders finally broke him. It was the day Spencer lost you.

-

The day had gone by fairly quickly, the unsub was [thankfully] very predictable. You had caught up to him really fast, thanks to Spencer’s amazing geographic profile, and your ability to decode the messages the killer left behind. As you approached the apartment of Sheila Jacobs, the latest victim, you took caution. Something didn’t feel right. Then again, you’re approaching a serial killer with a hostage; how was it supposed to feel? Hotch signals the team to begin their silent entrance, and guns aimed, you entered the apartment.

“Jared Anderson? FBI. Drop the weapon.”

“Don’t move. I swear to god I will shoot her. Stay back!”

Holstering your weapon, you begin, “Jared? It’s alright. We don’t want to hurt you. Let Sheila go and we can work this out.”

“You think that’s fair? After what she did to me? All those years in high school? Nuh-uh. I don think so.”

He had a far point. This Sheila girl was, according to Garcia, a Grade-A mean girl. She and her friends, all of which now dead, tormented Jared all throughout high school. Of course, that doesn't excuse murder, but your heart slightly ached for Jared.

“Look, Jared. I’m with you. Sheila really is a bitch.” You knew what you were doing and so did your team, which is why they allowed you to continue, hands in a position of surrender, hoisted in the air.

“See! That’s why she needs to die!”

“No, Jared. She doesn't. She needs to live. Think about it! Think about what all the news channels are going to say! You will finally get to be the victim Jared. Nobody is going to feel sorry for the bully. She practically brought this on herself. Let her go so we can show the world how fake this woman really is.”

Hoping that this worked, you study Jared’s face. Of course, you didn't mean any of this, but Jared's fantasy has blurred the lines of reality, and now all you had to do was play along.

You see Jared’s face soften as he begins to surrender. He let’s sheila go, and she runs behind you, probably into the arms of Tara or JJ. You reached for the gun Jared held, when suddenly he jerked his arm away, aiming the gun right in between your eyes.

“Wait. You lied to me. I can see it in your face.”

“Don’t do this Jared.” You heard Derek say firmly in the background.

“What? You mean this?”

Two gunshots. That’s all it took. One from the revolver Spencer carried, and one from the handgun Jared possessed.

Your side felt warm. Rubbing your fingers over the area, you felt pain. A lot of it. Your bloody fingertips only confirmed your theory; you'd been shot.

The rest was a blur. Bouncing in and out of consciousness, losing so much blood, your head pounding, your side throbbing, the screams of your team calling for an ambulance.

This might just be it, you thought, my final moments.

“Hey. Listen to me, okay? I need you to stay awake for me. The ambulance is a couple of minutes away. Stay awake for me and for them okay?”

You felt your body lift off the cold ground. Your turn your head.

“Spencer.”

“Shh. Shh, it's okay. I’ve got you. Just stay with me, okay? Stay awake sweetheart.” Tears were streaming down his face as he attempted to flash a comforting smile at you. He had never called you that before...sweetheart. You liked the sound of it. It sounded much better than ‘Agent’. You tried your hardest, you really did, to stay awake.

You know, maybe the darkness isn't so bad. It’s warm there. Let me go there.

“Hey. I said stay awake.”

The bright white of the ambulance severely contrasted that of your beautiful darkness. It took you a second to adjust but once you did, you saw Spencer. The beautiful agent stared down at you. You wish you could tell him sooner, you thought, how beautiful he was. He needed to hear that. You wish you had the energy to tell him that now. He needed to hear those words, even if they were your last.

“I love you” you managed to croak out.

“Hey, hey. I love you too. Save your words okay? Talk to me when you’re recovering.”

You could tell by the look on his face that it was hopeless. You were too far gone. Nothing could save you.

“It was always you.”

“W-What?”

Damnit. If you weren't so weak, you'd tell him everything. You’d tell him how you had looked forward to going to work if it meant seeing him. You'd tell him that his big brain amazed you and that you blushed every time he would ramble about some irrelevant fact that only he seemed to know. You’d tell him that at times, you'd dream of kissing his soft, pink lips. You’d tell him how sometimes when you felt lonely, you’d hold your palms together, imagining they were his. You’d tell him that you loved him and that he was pretty stupid for a genius to not see it. You wish you could tell him everything, but you couldn’t. Your words, much like your time, were limited.

Somehow, someway, Spencer understood. He understood what you meant. He took your hand in his, tears incessantly leaking out of his eyes.

“The thought of loosing you makes it bard to breathe. I wish you could stay. I wish you could see how much I need you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I wish I would've told you sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Its okay. In another life” You knew Spencer didn't believe in this, but maybe you would. These thoughts comforted you in this sad time. 

“Visit my dreams, would you? Find me again. I can't make it here without you.” He was sobbing. He lifted your hand to his face, your skin feeling the cool tears that streamed down his cheeks. You were slipping away, you could feel it.

Before you could finish your last “I love you”, the darkness consumed you for the last time.

-

It had been almost a year now, since your departure. Your team missed you. Your sad picture hung on the wall of fallen agents, and not a day went by where they didn't look at it and miss you. You missed them too. You wish you could've said goodbye. It hit Spencer the hardest, however. But healing takes time. Spencer missed you, of course, but he knew you wouldn't want him to sulk around. You'd want him to look for you. In reality, Spencer never really believed in the reincarnation theory. For some reason, you took his “If science can't prove it, it isn't real” mantra and threw it out the window but the slightest bit of Spencer knew you would come back for him, and you did.

You came in his dreams. Whenever Spencer really needed a pick-me-up or any form of encouragement, you would tell him the exact words he needed to hear.

He knew you were there through your smell. Throughout the day, Spencer would smell vanilla, your favorite scent. The warm tones of vanilla always seemed to calm him, as he was reminded of your beautiful face.

He knew you were there by the clock. Whenever he’d get a random urge to look at the time, or whenever he just simply needed it, you'd always be there. 11:11, 2:22, 3:33, 5:55. You were there with him.

Spencer was at comfort knowing this. Hopefully one day you'd come back to him through someone else, so he could finally say the things he needed to say. So he could finally say, that he’d been in love with you for so long.

[cevanstorytime]

America’s Sass

Chapter 3

The trivia assistant came to our table and passed out the papers and pencils. Chris snatched ours and looked at me excitedly. “What’s our name?”

“Uhhh.” Was all I could get out. I stared at him blankly.

“America’s ass!” Mike yelled from across the table, but drunk me heard “America’s Sass” which made perfect sense.

“He is very sassy,” I said wiggling my eyebrows at him.

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m the sassy one?! I’ve gotten a lotta lip from you today little lady.” He said wagging his finger at me.

“See? Sassy.” I said looking at his friends.

“Hmm.” He looked me over for a minute. “Maaaybe you’re right, but just so you know, I’m not alone in sassy town.”

“But you are the mayor.” I winked at him as he gasped and put a hand to his chest in mock shock.

He scribbled America’s Sass in the top corner of the paper, put the pencil down and finished the beer sitting in front of him. He motioned to the bartender to bring another round.

By now I had lost count of how many drinks I’d had, but I was feeling very relaxed. “Listen, you get too many drinks in me and I’ll be useless as far as trivia goes.” I told him, but he didn’t believe me. He scrunched his face up and made a pssh sound.

“Are you sure it’s not the opposite?” He teased as he nudged me with his shoulder.

The server arrived and placed our drinks on the table just as the trivia host started the game. Chris turned his hat backward in what I assume was an attempt to look serious, but it just looked adorable. “Alright! Everybody ready? Got your team names on the top of your paper? Alright. Here we go. Question number one. What kind of person shall not be honored on a US postal stamp, according to the US postal service and the Citizen’s Stamp Advisory Committee?”

Chris and I turned to each other and in unison whispered “a living person.” Chris made a fist and hissed “Yessss. Mmm! I knew it!” He quickly wrote the answer down then put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me.

“Question two! In what city is Jim Morrison buried?”

I turned and whispered “Paris” in his ear. I’m pretty sure I saw his ear twitch, and then we were face to face, mere inches apart. My heart jumped into my throat. His must have too because I saw him swallow hard. His eyes darted to my lips.

“You need some water over there?” Joey asked. I turned away from Chris, my face crimson I’m sure.

He was still looking at me when he answered “nope, we’re good.” He finally turned away from me but turned his gaze to Mike as he picked up his beer and took a long swig.

We continued kicking ass through the first two rounds. And in those rounds, we had another two rounds of drinks. I was drunk, Chris was drunk, and it was beginning to feel like I had known these people forever. A warm comfy haze settled over me, and Chris was getting closer than I thought humanly possible, but I wasn’t going to object. I took my blazer off, as the closeness and the alcohol turned me into a human furnace. He kept his arm around my shoulder and would pull me close and talk in my ear. I could still smell his cologne, but now he had a slightly bitter smell from all the beer he’d consumed.

After I answered one question fairly quickly he brushed my hair behind my shoulder and whispered “you’re so fuckin smart.” I felt his beard brush my neck, which set off goosebumps from my head to my toes. His hand trailed down my arm and over my forearm. He took notice of the goosebumps and looked at me startled. “Are you cold?”

I shook my head slowly. “Nope. I’m fine.”

A smile crept over his face as he rubbed my arm in an attempt to warm me up. “You sure?” I nodded and managed to get mm hmmm out. To which his response was “Hmm. Wonder why you’re covered in goosebumps?”

“I don’t ...I don’t know...hmm. Am I? Maybe I’m under the vent? I’m fine..I uh. I don’t know why...I have..what?”

“Akala.” He said softly. I looked at him confused.

“What does jungle book have to do with this? I mean I love the original, and the remake was good but wha...”

“It’s the answer to the question. You have the pencil. Write it down. A-K-A”

“I know how to spell Akala ass.” I turned to the paper and wrote it down as he giggled. “I didn’t even hear the question. I would have got it.” I mumbled, my mouth twitching into a crooked smile.

“Uh-huh. What happened? Why didn’t you hear it?”

I turned my hands up in an I don’t know gesture which made Chris laugh hard, his hand flying up to his chest involuntarily. Which set me off in a fit of giggles.

“What’s going on over there?” Tara asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He answered. “She’s a funny woman.” I rolled my eyes as he laughed some more.

“Ok! 15-minute intermission!” The host announced.

“I’m going to go get some fresh air. Would you ladies like to join me?” Theresa asked.

“Yes!” I answered a little too quickly. I hopped up and followed her out the front entrance to the sidewalk, Tara close behind.

“Thanks for coming out with me! It was getting too stuffy in there.” Theresa said.

“I’m glad to hear it wasn’t just me. I thought it was just because I had so much to drink.” I snickered. “I haven’t hung out at a bar like this in a looong time.”

“Well, we’re here every Tuesday! You should join us! This has been a lot of fun tonight. I’m glad Chris found you.” Tara smiled warmly at me. “He’s been in a funk for a while, I was starting to wonder if he was ever going to snap out of it. And then he called me and told me he might have someone to bring tonight! I got so excited. He hasn’t brought someone to trivia in ages. Like I’m talking over a year.”

“He has been really busy this year though,” Theresa added.

“That’s really sweet, but I doubt it had anything to do with me. We literally met this morning, for like twenty minutes.” I responded a little confused. There’s no way he was happy because of me. “And honestly when we met this morning he was very quiet and reserved compared to this.” I swung my arm motioning to the bar. Both the girls just shrugged.

“I’m just saying... it’s nice to see him...hopeful... again.” My eyes shifted from Theresa to Tara, and back to Theresa.

“Why do you think he’s been so down?” I asked

“Well, he’s always so busy with work, and when he comes home he’s surrounded...by us...and our other friends, who are all in these,” she inserted air quotes here, “normal lives. And he’s single...and, well I think he feels like he’s missing out, or left behind or something.” Tara explained.

“Like the odd man out.” Theresa confirmed.

“Ah. I see.” I said slowly. “Well, like I said, we literally just met today. So...I’m just...I mean, how could you not like him, but I don’t want to rush anything. We’ll just see what happens.”

“Yeah! Of course! I didn’t mean to suggest that ...” the door to the bar swung open and the guys all came lumbering out.

“What do we have here?” Ryan asked. “What were you ladies discussing?” He prodded.

“Nothing!” Theresa replied. “We were just telling Brie that we’re here every Tuesday pretty much and that she should join us! Ooh! Let’s swap numbers before we forget! And that way if you need any help or if you’re like looking for a doctor or a hairdresser... or you just want to hang out!”

“That would be fantastic! Thank you so much!” I responded. Genuinely grateful for having met these people. All the fear and doubt I had felt about moving had seemed to vanish tonight and I could begin to see the start of my new life forming. We chatted for a few more minutes before heading back inside to finish up the trivia game.

Chris held his hands out for a double high five as I walked past him through the door. I smacked both his hands, which then swung down and smacked both of my ass cheeks like I was a football player. It took me by surprise, causing me to do a little jump through the doorway and then stop dead in my tracks. I slowly turned towards him and saw him standing in the door frame with a look of total shock, both hands over his mouth. He reached out in front of himself palms up and spoke, “I am..soooooo so sorry. It’s a habit and I wasn’t thinking, and I apologize sincerely. I’m such an idiot.” His hands were now over his heart and his face had blanched white. I looked from him to Joey, who was holding the door open. Joey’s eyes were as big as plates and his mouth was hanging open in a half-smile, half shocked look. Like he was about to start laughing but wanted to see my reaction first.

I busted out laughing so hard that almost everyone in the bar turned to see what was happening. “Your face!!!” I yelled between guffaws. “Oh my god your face!” I couldn’t get my shit together. I was doubled over in laughter as Chris let out an uncomfortable “ha...haha.”

“Oooh man.” I wiped tears from my eyes as the guys started to walk towards me. “It’s fine Evans! Good lord!” His shoulders and face relaxed again which sent me into more fits of giggles. “Oh shit. My sides hurt! Let's go win this shit. Do you want another drink?” I laughed, elbowing him in his side.

“I’ll get it.” He responded. I slid into the booth and looked over towards the bar just in time to see him down a shot. The bartender slid two glasses towards him. Chris nodded his thanks then picked up the glasses, joining us at the booth. I stood up, letting him slide back into the booth.

“I don’t get a shot?” I teased as he passed me.

“I needed something to ease my nerves.” He looked at me apologetically.

I clicked my tongue at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I kinda liked it.” I winked at him as he handed me my glass. We slid back into the booth and back into the effortless comfort that had enveloped the table before.

Chris and I dominated the second half of the game and were tied with another team for first place. There was a tie-breaker question, and the category was music. “Remember what I told you this morning?” I asked. He grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

“I’m so ready for this massage I can already feel it. Do you want the mani/pedi or the facial?”

“Uh, mani/pedi. What kind of question is that?” I answered, making him chuckle.

“You got this. It’s all you.” He rubbed my shoulders like I was a boxer getting ready to step in the ring, and he was my super supportive coach.

“Alright, for the tie-breaker I’m going to play 3 seconds of a song. You must give me the name of the song. The name of the band, and the name of the album it was on.” The other team groaned loudly. I rubbed my hands together in excitement. The clip started and I immediately knew what it was. My head snapped towards Chris. We wore matching expressions of excitement. He too knew the song.

“Do you know the album name?” He asked.

“Do I know the album name?” I scoffed. “OF COURSE!”

“Well WRITE!!” He was excitedly smacking the paper.

I scribbled furiously Don’t stop me now, Queen, Jazz. I folded the paper and ran to the stage handing it to the host.

“Alright, we have America’s Sass’s answer. Fifteen seconds left for the Lil’ Sebastians to answer.” They were writing fast, and I started to worry. They finally brought their paper to the host. I couldn’t tell if they were confident or not, but I at least knew we had the right answer.

“Alright. The correct answer is queen, both teams got that right. The song title is Don’t Stop Me Now, both teams got that right.” Chris’s hand was on my knee squeezing hard. Like the fate of the world depended on the last answer. “America’s Sass wrote Jazz for the album, Lil’ Sebastians wrote A Day at the Races.” Long dramatic pause.

“We got it!” Chris hummed in my ear.

“The correct answer is... Jazz! America’s Sass wins!” The host pointed towards our booth. Chris shot both arms in the air and then grabbed my head, planting a big kiss on my cheek.

“I knew you had it!” He said before planting a second kiss on my other cheek. Our table was cheering so loudly that I couldn’t hear the host. The Lil Sebastians came to congratulate us, and Chris offered them a round of drinks for being such good competition. He then turned to Theresa and said, “Spa day on me momma.” She waved him off and giggled. We settled our bar tabs and slowly made our way outside.

“Where’d you park?” Chris asked me.

“Oh, I walked. It’s only a little ways away.” He eyed me closely.

“I was going to get an Uber. I shouldn’t drive. You want to share?”

“Oh, no it’s ok really. It’s nice out.”

“Then I’ll walk with you. If that’s ok.”

“Yeah. Sure! But then you have to come back to get your car.” I paused thinking. “ I can drive you back.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll Uber back and come get my car tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Alright, it’s this way.” I said pointing over my shoulder. We said goodbye to everyone and lots of “get home safes” were exchanged, and then we were alone.

“Shall we?” He asked.

“Mm hmm.”

“Lead the way.” He held his arm out and slightly bowed as I turned and lead us down the sidewalk in a slow and leisurely manner. I had no doubt I would be seeing him again, but I didn’t want this night to end. It felt like home. We chit chatted the whole way to the house about our childhoods, and our mutual love for Disney. We had a lot in common. Like... a lot. He loved my favorite bands, which I hadn’t even expected him to have heard of. We discussed our favorite movies and tv shows...the dogs, and before I knew it we were standing in my front yard.

“I’ll just call the Uber real quick.” He said pulling out his phone.

I pushed his hand down and he looked up at me. “Do you want to come inside for a little bit?” I hesitated, “We can just hang out. Unless you need to get home. Oh,” I said realizing He probably needed to get back to his boy. “Never mind, I’m sure you need to get home to Dodger.”

“Dodger’s at my sisters.” He put his phone in his pocket. “She watches him on trivia nights because I usually stay out late.”

“Oh! Well that’s nice.”

“Yeah” he put his hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’d like to come in for a while...if you want me to.” He said after a moment of silence.

“Yes! I asked you to. Of course I do. I didn’t change my mind that fast.” He laughed at my response. I unlocked the door and let us in. Harry came bounding up to us, well, him. He kind of ignored me. Chris bent down to pet him.

“Hi buddy! Long time no see!” Harry was giving him kisses on his hands, his face, anywhere where skin was visible.

“Do you want something to drink? I have water, tea, strawberry lemonade...uh...Cheerwine.”

“Cheerwine?! Yes please.” He answered excitedly.

“A man after my own heart.” I said under my breath.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Nothing!” I said from behind the open refrigerator door. “I’m sorry the house is a mess, I haven’t finished unpacking yet. Have a seat.” I said pointing to the sofa.

He kicked his shoes off and headed to sit down. I sat beside him with a little space between us, which Harry immediately took. I handed him his drink and sat mine on the nearest box. “Do you want to watch something? Are you hungry? I can make us a snack.”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you though. What do you want to watch?”

“Uhh I don’t know. What kind of stuff do you like? Ooh I have a bunch of rick and Morty's I haven’t watched yet. I’m behind on a lot of stuff. Have you ever watched rick and Morty? It’s fucking hilarious.” He was staring at me with his brow furrowed like I said something wrong. “What? Do you not like it? We can watch something else.”

“I fucking love rick and Morty. Put that shit on.” He went silent for a minute while I found the show.

“You alright?” I asked.

“Yeah. Yeah...I, it’s just...you’re amazing.” He said watching me for a reaction.

“Aaaaand you’re drunk.” I said shaking my head.

“No! I’m not! Maybe buzzed, but I’m definitely not drunk anymore. I’m serious, you’re really cool. I’m glad Harry found me.”

“Me too....you’re not so bad yourself .” Was my lame ass reply. “ I had a really really good time tonight.”

“Me too.”

“When are we doing our spa day?” I asked, suddenly remembering our prize.

His eyes grew wide. “Whenever you want! I’ve got a few weeks off so I’m open whenever!”

“Nice! Well, I don’t start work for another week and a half. I can call them tomorrow and see what they have open?”

“Sounds good. Just tell me when and I’ll be there.”

“Ok!” Another awkward silence passed as we just stared at each other. I couldn’t tell if I was making it up or not, but it definitely felt like something was going on underneath the surface. A sort of tension that was painful yet exciting. “I should probably let Harry out real quick.”

“Oh yeah, of course.” I stood up and Harry followed. I opened the back door and let him out, when I turned around Chris was standing less than a foot away staring at me intensely a million emotions running over his face. And then he spoke, “I’m going to kiss you now.” It sounded like he was asking permission. So I nodded quickly.

“Yeah. Do that. That’s a good...” his mouth crashed on mine before I could finish speaking. One hand went to my waist pulling me in tightly, while the other hand ran up my back and onto the back of my neck as he continued his assault on my mouth. Now both hands were in my hair, holding my head steadily in place. My hands ran up over his chest and on top of his shoulders. What I really wanted to do was climb him like a tree, but I needed to show some restraint. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to mine. He rested there for a moment before placing gentle kisses on my cheeks, then my lips, and then working his way down my neck. My head rolled back, clearing the way for his kisses. He nipped at my earlobe, which elicited an involuntary moan from me. He growled in my ear, which immediately set my skin on fire and covered it in goosebumps at the same time. He squeezed me into him again and kissed me slowly, passionately on the lips one more time before releasing me. My head fell to his chest and he placed one last sweet kiss on my forehead.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

I pulled my head away. “What?” I said confused.

“No! No that’s not what I meant. I wanted to do that. Very much. But I don’t want to rush you into anything. I’m not trying to... I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to fuck you. That’s not...ugh. I’m making a mess of this.” I put a finger over his mouth before drawing it to mine and kissing him softly.

“You’re not. That was great. I’m... i know you’re not...i mean it was kind of fast but you know what? I don’t really care. It was perfect.” He took my face in his hands again and searched my face, for what I’m not sure. He kissed me again before looking over my shoulder.

“I think someone is jealous.” I turned to see Harry standing at the door giving me the nastiest look, like I had just left him outside for days.

“Yes. But I think he’s jealous of me.” Sure enough, when I let him inside he ran straight to Chris, tail wagging, as he glared at me. “Should we go watch some Rick and Morty?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” We sat close enough that Harry couldn’t get between us this time. Chris wrapped an arm over my shoulder as I rested my head on his chest. I woke up still in the clothes I had worn the night before, laying with Chris’s arm wrapped around me and my arm draped across his chest, both of us stretched out on the couch. I looked down towards our feet to see Harry curled up in a ball. Chris yawned and stretched, then rubbed my back. “Good morning.” He said in a deeper than normal voice.

“Mmm. Good morning” I replied. “We should have watched tv in the bedroom.” I chuckled.

“That could have been dangerous.” He replied. “I might not have been able to control myself as well as I had.”

“Mmm.” I groaned. “Another time then.” A laugh rumbled through his chest, which with my head resting against it sounded even more amazing. “You hungry?”

[taruhcassidy]

❀ *ﾟ holland roden. female. she/her. ⇝ hey, isn’t that tara cassidy? i think that the twenty-four year old from savannah, georgia works as a police officer, but outside of that they spend a lot of time at henderson. i hear they are nosy + perfectionist, but they are also known to be compassionate + dedicated. consider giving them a visit at their home in buffalo mountain road apartments and get to know why they’re called the rookie. 

and last, but definitely not least: my sweet baby angel tara !! y’all know the drill at this point lmao. like this post if you’re down to plot with her and i’ll happily come to you ! or message me so that we can scream over plot ideas together.

stats

full name: tara lane cassidy

nicknames: n/a

height: 5′3

occupation: police officer

date of birth: september 6th

zodiac: virgo

mbti: isfj

ennegram: type two ( the helper )

alignment: neutral good

temperament: phlegmatic

positive traits: compassionate, dedicated, intuitive, perceptive, kindhearted

negative traits: nosy, obsessive, anxious, perfectionist, sneaky

biography

tara never grew up knowing her biological parents. her memories of them are nonexistent, as she only remained in their custody until she was just six months old. from then on was passed around to a few different family members, none of which could ever give her a straightforward answer as to why her parents had given her up, a question that frequently was asked as little tara grew into her own. the only thing that they would confirm was that they most certainly weren’t dead.

at four she moved to primm with some distant relatives and remained in their care for a little over a year. that is, until her temporary mother announced an unexpected pregnancy and the family decided that they just no longer had the space or money to care for tara, not with their little miracle on the way.

she was promptly placed into foster care and from then on became nothing but a number. no parents or family or documents to truly give her a sense of identity to build her life upon. tara was just passed along from one foster home to the next, never finding a family that was willing to take the plunge of adoption.

it was discouraging, to say the least, if not downright heartbreaking. tara learned how to shift and mold herself into what she believed people wanted her to be, all in the hopes of finally finding a family. a permanent place that she could truly call home. but she somehow always came up short.

time passed and she eventually grew out of the ‘cute’ phase, most families not wanting to adopt a young girl in her teens due to the fear of taking on the weight of the scars that the foster care system tends to leave behind. tara eventually gave up on her desire to be adopted and focused her attention elsewhere: making sure she didn’t become another foster kid that fell through the cracks. she slowly started working on pulling her act together, taking school more seriously and working shitty minimum wage jobs in order to save.

tara faced quite a bit of wickedness and abuse during her stay in foster care, but in spite of it she remained kind and warm, no matter what horrors she faced. she refused to let it break her and often took on a maternal roll with some of her younger foster siblings, finding comfort in the idea of being needed.

as soon as she graduated high school, tara enrolled in community college and set her sights on obtaining her associates’s in criminal justice. she worked a degrading waitress gig at a local truck stop diner during this time, every cent she made going towards her education or making sure she had a place to live. after college, she joined the police academy and began her journey as a cadet, eventually graduating and landing the roll of one of primm’s finest .

it’s no secret that the police force is a male-dominated workplace. to some, women simply don’t carry guns and a badge, and tara’s aspirations to do just that have been all but set on fire and tossed into the nearest dumpster. even now that she’s traded in her apron and notepad for a uniform and squad car, she’s been laughed at, shot down, and flat out told that such a pretty lil’ thing won’t make it out in the field. but every cruel remark and shred of doubt only forces tara to do better — to try harder. their lack of faith in her only causes the flames of determination to glow brighter, burning hotter and hotter.

bonus information

tara originally had no desire to become a cop. instead she wanted to be child psychologist until she was sixteen, deciding to opt for something more proactive when it came to helping people

she loves peaches and anything peach flavored. and if you couldn’t guess, that means peach cobbler is her favorite desert.

it wasn’t until she was nineteen that tara officially decided that she had no interest in seeking out her biological parents. over the years, she had created two figures to replace the void she was left with, figments that were almost childlike guesses at the parents she’d never known. they’d never once tried to reach out to her; not a single call, visit, not even a letter. by that point in her life, the lack of communication wasn’t worth destroying the image she’d built.

tara lowkey used to be a little bit of a wild child during her foster care days. at least, before she decided to get her shit together. she ran with a dodgy crowd and while she still had a good heart, she was nothing like the woman she’s become today.

while it’s her job to uphold the law and follow procedures, tara often has the tendency to “go rogue”. if she truly believes it’s for the greater good and she’s doing the right thing, tara will break rules and work with people on the wrong side of the law.

her deepest rooted fear is the fear of being forgotten. tara wants nothing more than to leave her mark on the world and the people around her, if only so that she doesn’t fade into obscurity.

she has an excellent memory and often enjoys people watching.

other favorites of hers include the color yellow, fleetwood mac, and sunflowers.

wanted connections

y’all already know what i’m about to say here lmao. i’ll update this very soon with some ideas, though two that immediately come to mind would be other characters she knew through foster care and maybe a couple of people from her wild child days. whether or not they’ve straightened up as well or gone down the opposite path is totally up to the mun ! but yeah !! if you have any ideas of your own or have a connection for your muse that you think tara would fit, im me and let’s plot !

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

POI - Strange Magic

A few days ago, doing our weekly trip to Disney, @colonelcupquake and I discussed a few things about our d&d kids, and about all the ways in which their growing relationship is...growing. This is what spawned from me thinking too much about what that meant.

Set in current game time, while the idiots are helping our resident monk through house arrest. 2,200 words.

If asked, Val wouldn’t have been able to count high enough to number all of the moments that made her miss her parents most.

There had been plenty in the early years - after selling the wagon, and then the horses, every time she had made her own coffee, Gavaar’s heavy silence on a long travel road - but the newer ones didn’t seem to dig any less deeply. Dandelions still made her sigh; the sight of Amon bent over his alchemist’s kit still made her heart clench just a little too hard.

And she knew, so bitterly that it hurt, that at least her father would have known exactly what to do with Rona Greenbottle.

He had left her some notion of it, of course. His telling - and frequent retellings, at a younger Val’s incessent requests - of how he had met her mother carried the notes of romance so thickly that even she couldn’t have missed them. But Cairon Hillcrest had also been one of the lucky sort who hadn’t made himself the company of his lady love for the better part of a year, who didn’t spend a harrowingly frequent amount of that time dragging her into danger, and who had at least had the fucking decency to know more about her than her name, and her strength, and the bright, sunshine sweetness that had captured his attention in the first place.

Val glaced up over the top of the book she was not reading to where Rona was settled on the floor of their collective room, pawing through the pile of satchels around her with the keen slowness of someone who knew exactly what she was looking for. She pulled a tough looking stalk as thick as two fingers from one, and Val watched, enthralled, as she deftly slashed it open and stuffed a coffee bean inside.

Her staring must have been the weighty sort, because after a moment, Rona’s mouth curled into a smile.

“Yes?” she said without looking up. Val instinctively tucked back into her book, feeling a rush of heat up her neck.

“Nothing,” she said automatically. She stole a glance around her book’s edge and found Rona looking back out of the corner of her eye, grinning. The heat on her neck grew warmer. “I just, ah...I was just wondering what you were doing.”

“Just that?” Rona asked, with a pointed raise of an eyebrow. Val huffed.

“Well, I won’t say that I terribly mind the view either.”

Rona hummed in acknowledgment and turned back to her work, but Val noticed with a tiny thrill of delight that her cheeks had a much rosier tinge.

“They’re for spells,” Rona said at least. Her fingers worked carefully, now winding a thin piece of twine studded with apple seeds around a length of thorny vine. “You’ve seen me using them before, haven’t you?”

“Here and again,” said Val, as she set her book aside. No use hiding behind it now; and besides, she had only caught as much of Rona’s casting as the corner of her eye allowed. With her own recent foray into magic, it seemed of dire importance that she actually try to listen.

Not to mention that Rona seemed rather pleased at the attention; she straightened as Val leaned forward, and shifted to face her.

“I decided that I should start prepping some of my components early,” she said, nodding towards the vine clipping that she was turning over in her hands. “I used to do most of these on the fly, but I figure now that I’ve got to try to keep up with you, and Tara, and Amon…”

“Mostly him, I'm sure,” Val said with a wry smile. “I’ve just taken to making sure the red blur is still moving instead of trying to keep track of him.”

“Well, I'd still rather be fast enough that I don’t catch him in this.”

With one swift motion, Rona suddenly wrenched a hand sideways and tugged the vine taught around her palm, so tightly that Val could see the thorns digging little dents into the meat of it. A soft green glow began to pulse from between her fingers, coiling down the length of the vine, and before she could blink, Val suddenly found herself in the center of a mass of woody tendrils creeping over the edge of the bed towards her.

“Don't worry,” said Rona when Val instinctively scrambled back. She waved a hand, and the vines suddenly curled away like a receding wave, and then crumbled to dust. “I don't use those on people I like if I can help it. You know, unless they want me to.”

She winked at that, and grinned, and the heat that had started to fade on Val’s neck suddenly came roaring back to life. She managed to keep her face carefully neutral as she tucked that particular thought away for later perusal.

“So, that’s, uh, that’s how your magic works, is it?” she said after a moment, coughing delicately to disguise the hitch in her voice. “You just sort of stick things together and - ”

“Not quite.” The little laugh in Rona's voice staggered as she cut Val off, just a touch too sharply to be casual. “It’s a little more involved than that, actually.”

Frowning, Val stole a glance down, and the peculiar tightness at the corners of Rona’s smile suddenly brought the memory of the conversation in the mine - with Sarula’s arms still wrapped around Rona’s weary shoulders and a too-casual shrug from Ianry - screaming back like a train car.

“Oh, Rona,” she said softly. Rona didn’t look up, just pursed her lips and stared fixedly at the floor. “Rona, love, you know I don’t think that’s all you do, right? Look, I might be an idiot, but even I know it takes work to pull miracles out of your ass on a regular basis. I just don’t understand the shape of it, hey? And I...” She hesitated. “And I would like to, if you can stand a few more stupid questions.”

Rona said nothing for a long moment, turning the vine absently in one hand. Then she sighed, and wilted like a breath suddenly exhaled.

“I know,” she said softly. “Sorry. Here, come sit with me.”

Val thanked Fharlanghn later for the distinct lack of witnesses to the way she nearly fell over herself getting off of the bed, and Rona, for her part, kindly avoided snickering.

“It’s not miracles so much as knowing what you’re trying to do,” she said once Val had settled across from her, hands folded in her lap like an attentive school child. She twirled the vine in her hand so it arched over her knuckles and held it out, gesturing to the tiny auburn seeds still tangled in twine around its surface. “Seeds are a plant’s life: they’re the first thing it needs to grow. So if I want vines to suddenly start growing out of the ground, and to wrap themselves around someone...”

She slowly threaded the vine back around her palm and made a big show of pulling it taught. Val hummed.

“It’s like a tether, then,” she said, with tentative understanding. “It sort of...makes a path from you to what you’re trying to control, yeah?”

“Exactly,” said Rona, and Val warmed at the brightness in her smile. “The components of a spell are just the vessel that you pour your intent into. That’s what makes magic happen. Not just ‘sticking things together.’”

She shot Val a pointed look, and nudged her playfully with a toe when she winced.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Val grumbled, making a big show of huffing and folding her arms. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, much less anyone else. I wasn’t born with magic.”

“I wasn’t either,” said Rona. Val raised an eyebrow. “What? Most people aren’t. Some of us give up everything just to learn.”

The current of heat burning under the last few words was difficult to miss, as was the way Rona’s eyes strayed to the door that Ianry had left through barely ten minutes prior. Val said nothing for a long moment, then slowly shifted closer.

“Everything, huh?” she asked. Rona’s shoulders sagged.

“My family didn’t exactly approve of the whole ‘running off to go play with magic plants’ business,” she said quietly. “And once I decided to go after my mentor…”

She trailed off, shrugging, and Val found that she could only nod. The few words of comfort she had suddenly felt achingly hollow in her ears; how could she even pretend that she understood losing a family that way, which left behind a looming shadow of unknowns that only grew with distance? She thought of her father, and all of the moments she had spent missing him, and she held them tighter still.

Eventually though, after a long muster of silence, Val rolled onto her knees, pushed some of the satchels aside, and shuffled over to where Rona was leaned against the wall. She only hesitated a moment before pressing an arm against hers.

“I don’t think Ianry meant any harm by what he said,” she said finally, “but it wasn’t fair anyway. You’re...you’re amazing Rona, in a hundred more ways than just what you can do with some thread and vines, but because of that, too. You’ve clearly worked your ass off to be as good as you are. You know, occasional misdirected ice knives aside.”

That earned her a chuckle, small but genuine, and Val felt her heart quicken as Rona slid sideways along the wall and rested a shoulder back against hers.

“That probably won’t happen again,” she said, with a thin smile. Val grinned.

“Wouldn’t matter even if it did, love. Accidents happen to all of us. But that doesn’t change the fact that you could set the ground around me on fire, and I’d trust that you’d put it out before anyone got hurt. You’re a damn fine druid Rona, but I admire your dedication to doing right even more.”

“Me?” Rona sat forward with the reddening cheeks and sudden, righteous indignation of someone whose only response to a compliment was to return it. “What about you? I've spent the last few months watching you fling yourself between us and every kind of monster that Cinderfells can dream up. I expect that I’ll spend the next few months doing the same thing. You want to talk to me about dedication? Protecting people is so natural to you, a god came down to help you do it!” She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “No one has ever thought to ask why I like you, Val. You know why? It's because they haven’t needed to. Knowing you makes the reason plain enough.”

This time, the heat surging upwards bypassed Val’s neck completely and shot straight to her ears, which felt suddenly like they matched Amon’s in their shade.

“Well,” she said, when sense and her full grasp of Common finally returned, “now that’s hardly fair. See, I was under the distinct impression that I was complimenting you.”

Rona’s lips curled into a wry smile, her cheeks their own delightful shade of rose. “Funny how a conversation works, huh?”

They both buckled into a laugh, and whatever coy hesitation had been putting distance between them suddenly vanished like a mist in morning sun. Rona sank further against Val’s arm once she had collected herself, and leaned her head onto her shoulder.

“I should clean all of this up,” she said after a moment, gesturing to the piled satchels around them. “With any luck, we’re not going to be needing to burn a bunch of spells in the next few days anyway.”

“Don’t be so sure,” said Val, grinning. “We have a rather permanent history of getting ourselves into all manner of trouble. In fact, you might even need a whole other bag of…” She paused and grabbed the nearest satchel. “Acorns?”

Rona giggled. “I use those more for making friends with squirrels than for magic, if I’m honest.”

“Of course,” said Val, with a good-natured roll of her eyes as she let the satchel fall. “What I mean is, I still have plenty more stupid questions about magic, and I’m not so terrible at finding useful things in the woods. Mostly Sendran woods, to be fair, and mostly in the south, but I haven’t almost eaten poisonous berries since I was eight, which isn’t horrible when you think about it -”

“I was actually planning on gathering some things to bring Rosie back today,” Rona cut in, pulling away to grin up at her. “If you wanted to come along…?”

Val practically jumped to her feet, snatching her shield from where it was leaned against the bedside and slinging it onto her back. “Please. I’m already sick of this room, this inn and this whole bloody city. Let’s let it fend for itself for a little while, hey?”

“A date, then,” Rona agreed, grinning as she stood and then leaning forward to nudge Val with an elbow. “And maybe I’ll even let you hold the basket.”

[fics-for-my-heart]

Soul Burn (p1)

Summary: The first time you touch your soulmate, your skin burns in that spot till you touch them again.

Word count: 1556

Warning: swearing, mention of crowd panic

A/N: I saw a post for a different soulmate type story and it put this idea in my head. Part 2?

Masterlist

Part One   Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten

When you touch your soulmate for the first time, the contact area burns. Not like a fire burn, more like a tingling sunburn. No one knows what caused it, but people definitely noticed when it started happening. An odd story here, and a weird news article there. Eventually it was the norm. When you met a new person, you touched, just to make sure.

At 23, you weren’t sure you’d ever meet the one. Everyone you went to high school with had found their other half. It didn’t bother you much, you knew that when the time came it would happen, so you didn’t go around like some people and touch random strangers hoping to find them.

“Y/N.” Your best friend Julie waved her hand in your face. “Honey bunch are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah sorry. Distracted is all.” You turned back to the inventory list your boss had you filling out.

“Still wondering when you’ll get your burn?” She had met Mitch, her soulmate, on the first day of ninth grade while passing papers back.

“I mean, yes and no.” You shrugged, checking off a few boxes on the list. “I’m starting to wonder if I’ll ever meet the one. But at the same time I’m kinda content with how life is, and just kinda going with it.”

She rested her hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find them. Just gotta have a little hope. But! On a brighter note, convention weekend starts tomorrow and we are for sure going to have a blast.”

“You’re right, I always look forward to convention weekend.” With that thought in your mind you were able to make it the rest of the work day.

The next morning Julie was at your house bright and early and the two of you made your way to the convention center ready to completely geek out. When you got there, the line was long, but moving fast.

“Okay, so what do you want to do first?” Jul asked, bouncing in her toes trying to warm up in the cool air.

“Gotta get in line for Tara Strong obviously, and Doug Jones. Those are the two I for sure want to meet.”

“I think James Marsters and Matthew Lewis are on the top of my list. Oh look, we’re next.”

The two of you made your way into the much warmer food court that doubled as a waiting area before the doors officially open. While waiting, the two of you got a bite to eat and admired the Cosplayers.

“Seriously, I wish I had the talent and time to do what some of these people can do.” She pointed at a group of people who had come as Thor, Loki, and Hela. You pointed out some people who had come as Spiderman, Lego people, and even the astronaut from Doctor Who. By the time the doors opened, the excitement was buzzing through your body. It was always kinda mind blowing just how massive the event is every year. So many vendors, not to mention the ever growing list of celebrity guest.

After meeting the main people you wanted to meet and getting pictures with them, it was time to shop. The amount of amazing things that people made to sell was amazing. The investment of not only money, but time, made each handmade item special. You were trying to decide between two beautiful Harry Potter themed lockets when Jul started patting your arm fast.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N. Look. Looook!” Turning, you immediately saw what, well who, had your friend losing her mind.

“Holy shit. It’s Tom Holland.” Standing just across the walkway was the beautiful, floppy brown haired actor who you had liked since Spiderman. Your affection for him was nothing compared to how much Julie loved him, but you knew he was sweet and really did enjoy him as an actor.

Before you could say anything more, a voice came over the intercom. “Attention guest! We have a special guest joining us today! Tom Holland will be on the floor for pictures and autographs till three. He will also be attending the panel in room 140 at four. Hope to see you all there!”

“Y/N, I have to go see him!” Julie’s light green eyes were huge with the idea of getting to finally meet him.

You smiled. “Well, go quick before the line gets too long. I’ll be right here.”

She kissed your cheek and ran off to the quickly growing line. While she met her crush, you wondered around, buying some stuff for your parents and your brother. It wasn’t long before Julie returned, a smile plastered across her face and a photo clutched to her chest.

“Oh word. He truly is a gift from above. Honestly, if I didn’t know Mitch was my soulmate, I would secretly hope it was Tom. You should have seen him, A little boy was in front of me dressed like Spiderman, and Tom came around and got right at his level to talk to him. Even pretended to get webbed for a photo. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.” She gave a happy sigh and leaned into you.

“Well, we still have his panel at four that could be fun. Let’s go see a few more people. Get a bite to eat and go wait for some decent seats.”

Julie nodded, looping her arm around yours and marching off toward the line for a voice actor from Mitch’s favorite video game.

It was roughly 3:30 when you made it to the room for the panel and it was surprisingly pretty empty so you were able to get good seats. The volume of the room grew as people made their way to seats, but the moment someone stepped on stage it was quiet.

“Hello everyone, I’m Bill! Thank you for coming to this surprise panel, I see we still have some people coming in so I’ll take a moment to let everyone get settled.” A few shuffles of chairs could be heard then all went silent. “Excellent, So today we have Tom Holland joining us, so let give him a round of applause!” The room erupted in claps and shouts as Tom entered the stage, waving at everyone before taking a seat. “Well Tom, how are you?”

“I’m doing absolutely amazing. I had a wonderful time greeting fans and am so lucky to be here.”

“We are happy you could join us. You’re a busy man so let’s get right to it shall we? Spider-Man Two. What can you tell us?”

Tom made a cute scrunched face. “Honestly, not much. I know I’m in it, and Robert is in it, and Jacob and Zendaya. But truly that’s all I’ve been allowed to say. They are trying very hard to keep me mum about it.” The audience laughed.

“Well, I tried.” Bill stuck his hands up in defeat. “Any word on how Avengers Four is coming along?”

Tom gave a tight lipped nod. “Again, not much I can say on that either Bill. When I asked the Russo brothers they told me to just say “itsa coming” and nothing else.” He made a zip and lock motion across his lips. “But, I will say it’ll be epic and hopefully make up for the last movie.”

Bill and Tom went back and forth for a while, joking and laughing and eventually they opened the floor for questions. People asked all kinds of stuff, like what was it like getting to work with all these stars, and how does he take is tea. The interactions between him and everyone really opened your eyes to just how genuine of a guy is was.

After almost an hour, Bill announced that sadly it was time for Tom to go. He agreed to take a picture standing in front of everyone, so we all gathered close while Tom stood at the front doing the Spider-Man pose.

First, there was a scream, then some pushing. Everyone wanted to get closer. Somehow you and Julie got separated as you were pushed closer to the front. Suddenly your chest was getting tight, there were bodies everywhere and loud voices. Then, you were in the floor, more screaming, two sets of hands were on either arm pulling you up and out of the crowd. You were sat in a chair, one pair of arms let go, the others stayed.

“Are you okay?” Your eyes were closed and the voice was muffled by the ringing in your ears. You reached out and touched their arm, nodding your head and steadying your breath. “Okay, you stay here I’ll send someone over to help you.” You nodded again.

It started when the person let go. That feeling of a sunburn on your wrist, the burn. Your eyes shot open, scanning the swarm of bodies for the person who had touched you. It was no use though, with everyone running around it was a madhouse.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N are you okay!?” You looked up to meet the familiar green eyes of Julie.

You ghosted your fingers over your burning skin. “It happened. The. It. Julie, it happened.”

“Really?” She practically squealed. “Who was it!”

You locked eyes with her, watching her face fall at your reaction. “I don’t know.”

[jacksonroseroth]

This Charming Life Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first attempt at an SOA fic. I’m sooooooooo not well versed in the fandom and stuff, but I like where it’s going so far! I’ve taken lines from the show to keep up with the plot. It starts just after Juice gets jumped trying to sell the Adderall. Hope you guys like it! :D Btw I’m gonna start with a clean taglit, only really gonna tag one or two people. If youlike what you read and want to be tagged, let me know! I’ll add you to the list! <3

Moodboard made by me, none of the pics are mine, two edits are

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Juice knocked on the door and sighed, glancing around the neighborhood. He didn't like showing up on her doorstep all bloodied and bruised, but he knew her place was the best place to be aside from the clubhouse. After getting patched up at the hospital, he just wanted some time away from the guys, but not alone. The door opened and a dark, curly-haired young woman appeared behind it. Her green eyes watched him, glancing around her street, as she tugged on a cardigan, wrapping it around her bra and panty clad body.

“Juice. Hey. What are you doing here?” She asked, holding out her hand to him, letting him in.

“Hey. I’m sorry to just burst in like this, Tawni.” Juice said as Tawni shut the door and turned to him.

“What happened?” She asked, tugging on his arm, trying to make him turn toward her. Tawni was Chib’s niece, though everyone in the club swore she was really his daughter from how much alike they were and they constantly teased her that perhaps she was Gemma and Chibs’ love child from how much she and Gemma looked like twins. He brought her with him when he patched over from SAMBEL to SAMCRO when she practically begged him to. Since then, Chibs did his best to keep her out of SAMCRO business and relationships with the guys, though she had a few flings with a prospect or two, but never a member. Yet, Tawni was ever the little Irish rebel and her and Juice had been flying way under the radar since they started sneaking around to be together. “Hey.”

Tawni finally gripped his arm, making him wince and turn to her to get her to let go. Tawni blinked and pulled her hand away, but stepped closer and gave a small gasp when she saw his face.

“It’s nothing, Tawn,” Juice said, turning his face away. Tawni put her hands on her hips and said, “Dinna bullshit me wi’ tha’. Ye’re face looks awful!”

At Tawni’s natural Irish accent breaking through in irritation, Juice smirked as he stepped away, going to her kitchen. Tawni sighed and followed him. After being in Charming for most of her life, her Irish accent faded to a more sophisticated California one, but it came out to play when she got worked up.

“Juice...I swear ta God…” She said, tugging at his hoodie to make him stop. Juice sighed and turned to her as she reached up to push his hood down and take his face, gently. “Oh, babe...Juice, what happened? Tell me.”

As much as Chibs wanted her to be kept away from club business outside of what she saw at the clubhouse, Juice told her everything. He knew she wasn’t stupid, by any means, and she would figure shit out sooner or later, as she’d proved in the past, so he decided to be honest and let damn near everything spill and Tawni became much the talented actress, acting like she knew absolutely nothing around the guys. With an irritated sigh, Juice finally said, “Two CL jumped me. I was meeting with the Chicken Man to sell the Adderall. Son of a bitch double-crossed me.”

Tawni sighed and shook her head, stepping into him and lifting up to kiss his uninjured cheek. He rested his hands on her waist and sighed, not looking at her.

“I’m sorry, Juice. Where were the guys when it happened?” Tawni asked.

“We went to Lumpy’s, sold the roids. I called Chicken and he said it was all good to go.” Juice shook his head and sighed, took her hand from his cheek, rubbing his thumb over her black-tipped nails, breaking a soft, brief smile. But it dropped quickly as he continued, “He gets paranoid. I said I’d go alone…”

“Juicy…” Tawni said, softly and sympathetic. She looked up at him, seeing the guilt in his eyes and she pulled him closer, kissing him softly. “Juice. It’s not your fault.”

“They took my Kutte, Tawni,” Juice said, pulling away from her and going to the couch. Tawni huffed at him, always irritated when he was stubborn, but followed him anyway and sat close to him, scratching her nails over his head.

“Juice, you couldn’t have known the CL would have been there, that Chicken would have tricked you...That’s not your fault.” Tawni said. Juice shook his head and sighed, sinking a little lower. Tawni gave a soft chuckle and slid her head to the back of his head then along the base of his neck. Juice looked up at her as she held out her other arm to him. Juice smiled as Tawni settled herself down on the couch, head resting on the armrest, and Juice tugged off his hoodie before snuggling up with her, head resting on her chest, nuzzled between her breasts. He slid a hand under her cardigan, over her warm skin and smiled, giving a soft sigh. Tawni couldn’t help but giggle at her big, strong biker man taken down by a cuddle and tits. She kissed his forehead as they cuddled and said, “You know the guys will still have your back no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know,” Juice said, his voice muffled slightly by Tawni’s breast. She giggled and closed her eyes as her nails continued to slide over his head, lightly, Juice running his fingers over her skin, soon sending them both off to sleep.

~

Juice gave Tawni a ride over to the clubhouse the next day to start her shift working the bar. While it didn't quite agree with Chibs, having her working there, she managed to find a waitressing job in town and was able to split it with her time at the club. She slung beers and coffees, passed out shots over the counter until it all died down around noon. The guys had gathered, half out front, half in chapel as Bobby made calls to figure shit out. Tawni and Chuckie walked out to Clay, Tig, Piney, and Opie, Chuckie refilling Opie and Tig’s coffee mugs as Tawni handed Clay and Piney each another beer. The door burst open and Bobby walked out with Jax, Chibs, and Juice, talking on the phone. Tawni glanced up at them as she moved to insert herself next to Opie, leaning on his chair, as Juice sat in the chair next to them. He passed her a quick glance that she returned with a sweet smile.

“Yeah...Yeah. Thanks...Yeah.” Bobby snapped the phone shut and sighed as Clay looked up at him. “The ten grand we sent to Serg’s guy in Vancouver? It’s gone.”

Clay sighed and Opie stood, pacing for a moment. Tawni bit her lip and glanced at Opie, then looked to Jax. Everyone in the club, members and a few choice others, knew what was going on with Abel. Everyone was concerned and wanted to see Abel back home, safe with his family.

“Guess mercenaries aren’t real big on refunds,” Bobby added.

“An’ the money we made on the roids, was in the bag the Mexicans stole from,” Chibs pointed at Juice and finished, “Idiot.”

Juice glanced up at Tawni and sighed as he sat back. Glass shattered from behind them as Opie threw his coffee mug into the empty lot in frustration. Tawni gave Chibs a look, but he ignored it.

“We’re tapped,” Bobby said. “And we have a very expensive excursion in front of us.”

“You guys, why don’t I just reach out to-”

“Don’ ev’n finish tha’ sentence, Tawni,” Chibs said, pointing at her. “Ye’re not gettin’ ‘nvolved in this.”

Tawni shot him a look and crossed her arms, annoyed, slipping down into Opie’s vacated seat.

“What about the other drugs?” Jax asked, nodding to Juice. Juice shrugged and said, “No street value. Black market scripts. We need a way into the clinics.”

“What about Tara?” Clay offered. Jax looked at him, staring. “Think she can help us move those scripts?”

“That’s not happening,” Jax said, firmly. Clay looked at him and said, “She’s your old lady.”

“I don’t care!” Jax shouted. “I said no.”

“Guys, seriously, let me reach out to a friend,” Tawni said. Chibs sighed and looked at her.

“Jax dinna wan’ Tara ‘nvolved, I don’ wan’ ye ‘nvolved, is tha’ clear?” Chibs said. Tawni shifted, narrowing her eyes at her uncle, slightly.

“Oh, aye. Well, ye need help movin’ them scripts, Filip! We only ‘ave so many options!” She said. Chibs growled at her, leaning toward her a little more, before taking a few steps away and sighing.

“Chibs, it’s either Tawni or Tara...One of you needs to make a decision and get it fucking done.” Clay said, looking from the Scot to Jax.

“Chibs, you know I can get you in,” Tawni said. Chibs rubbed his hands over his face and turned to her. He walked back over, pointing at her as he said, “Ye better make sure tha’ son o’a bitch, Brady, knows tha’ if he fucks this up and screws ye over, ‘e’s a dead man.”

Tawni smirked and uncrossed her arms, bouncing over to Chibs to kiss his cheek.

“Yeh, yeh, yeh…” Chibs said. Tawni chuckled and gave his arm a small squeeze, then said, “I’ll go give him a call now.”

Chibs sighed as Tawni walked off toward the garage, whipping out her phone and dialing a number as the guys started talking about something to do with Alvarez, but Tawni was well beyond earshot to eavesdrop. She glanced back at Juice, who had cast a glance out to her. She sent him a sweet smile, making sure Chibs wasn’t looking first.

“*Yeh?*” The voice that clicked onto the call was surrounded by absolute noise and Tawni sighed, knowing, already, this wasn’t a good sign.

“Finn? I can barely hear you. Where are you?” Tawni said, plugging her other ear to try and listen to him a little better.

“*Tawni! Hey, love, ‘s tha’ ye?! Long time, babe.*” Finn chuckled. Tawni suppressed a groan, regretting making this call, even making the suggestion, but she wanted to help out the club, so she’d endure it.

“Yeah. It’s been.” Tawni said. She took a breath and sighed before she added, “Look, I need a favor. The club needs funds and we have some scripts that need to get taken care of.”

“*Eh? Hmm. Well, I don’ really t’ink I have those connections anymore, sweets.*” The lilt in Finn’s voice told Tawni he was lying and just wanted a booty call from her, but she prayed he was back home in Ireland and she didn't have to actually fake it out.

“Hmm. That’s too bad. They’d probably get you in good with your men. Black Market scripts. HIV meds and shit like that.” Tawni said, putting a hand on her hip.

“*Really?! How t’e fuck did they get their ‘ands on them?!*” Finn asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Tawni said. Finn chuckled and gave a soft sigh.

“*Sweetheart, I’d really love ta help, but most o’ my guys aren’t in t’e game anymore.*” Finn said. Tawni sighed and closed her eyes. She really thought Finn would eat those meds up and she’d be able to help the club, but now that she knew Finn was no longer reliable, she held a small rejoice in the fact she never had to bother calling him again.

“Are you serious?” Tawni sighed. “Alright. Well...Thanks for entertaining the notion, I suppose.”

“*Yeh, sorry, love. Oi, when are ye comin’ back ‘ome? We miss ye over ‘ere.*” Finn said with a sultry sounding tone. Tawni rolled her eyes.

“Goodbye, Finn.” She said before ending the call. Tawni groaned and rubbed her temples before shoving the phone in her back pocket and making her way back over. The guys had gone back in, probably to vote the transfers in, since she recalled seeing Happy earlier and now saw Tig and Kozik talking as she approached. She watched the exchange carefully, knowing the history between the men, and was thankful when Tig walked off without trying to throw a punch at him. Kozik sighed and shook his head, turning to pace a little to cool off before heading inside. He smiled when he saw Tawni.

“Hey, Tawni.” He said. Tawni smiled and gave him a tight hug, Kozik returning it. They had a fling once before, mostly sneaking off at club parties. They managed to sneak around Chibs that first night, despite them both being drunk and rather loud during sex, but her schoolgirl crush on him eventually faded and they kept in touch as friends.

“Hey. I heard you’re looking to transfer.” She teased as Kozik slipped an arm around her neck and walked in with her.

“Yeah…” Kozik looked at Tig, giving a brief glare, before adding, “Hoping.”

Tawni chuckled and shrugged. “He’ll get over it eventually. He has to. You can’t hold a grudge that long.”

“Yeah. He can.” Kozik said, finally tearing his gaze from Trager and smiled down at Tawni. “I’ll see you, Tawn.”

Kozik kissed her cheek before heading into chapel. She sighed and went back behind the bar to wait on the three nervous-looking boys sitting there. She smirked.

Prospects. She thought. They get more timid every year.

“What can I get you, boys?” Tawni asked. The guys looked at each other as Tawni raised an eyebrow at them.

“Uh, some water?” The big one said. Tawni chuckled and shot him a wink before ducking down to grab three glasses and filled them. As she slid them over to the trio, Tig appeared in the doorway and beckoned the guys.

“Come on. Come on.” Tig said as they shuffled over. Tawni smirked and wiped down the bar, getting ready to start telling the possible new prospects what they needed to do. Before she knew it, she heard the cacophony of ‘Shut the door!’ being yelled at the prospects as they left chapel.

“You made it? Congrats.” Tawni said, half sarcastic. The boys glanced between each other and looked at her. Tawni blinked. “You do know I’m Chibs’ niece? I’ve got fucking seniority on you. Let’s move it, boys. You. Go get another case of beers. Down the hall and to the left. Well?”

The boy with the striped shirt that she had picked out jumped and took off down the hall.

“You, clean the shot glasses and line ‘em up. They guys will want to celebrate. Let’s go, honey.” Tawni said, waving the smaller one over.

“I’m Miles, by the way.” He said, smiling at her. Tawni blinked and said, “That’s nice. Get to the shot glasses.”

Miles nodded and started pulling the glasses up onto the counter and wiping them out. Tawni let an amused smirk pass before she turned. All the new prospects thought they had a chance with her, assuming she was just a Crow Eater. But Tawni earned her respect and position in the club, despite the fact Chibs was her uncle. She was fierce, tough, and knocked one or two of the visiting members out cold when they got too drunk and touchy-feely.

“Uh, what can I do?” The big one said. Tawni looked up at him and said, “Clean up the tables.”

She tossed a rag at him as she poured herself a glass of water. The chapel doors opened and the guys came out, Clay first, followed by Tig and Happy. Tig turned to Happy and grabbed him, saying something Tawni couldn’t quite make out. Happy growled out a happy ‘Yeah!’ as Tig let him go, turning to head to the bar as the striped shirt prospect came back with a case of beers.

“Come on, come on, come on, come on.” Tig prodded, impatiently, waiting for his beer. The others filed out and came over to the bar, Chibs slipping in next to Tig, Opie at the end before Piney joined him, bringing Happy along with him. Bobby came up to him, holding the two decals that read Redwood Originals, teasing Happy with them before putting it in his hand. Tawni smiled at the exchange between brothers. She liked Happy, he was rather amusing to be around. He got intense and intimidating most times, but when he was able to relax, he was fun. Juice waited until Chibs was distracted, talking to Chuckie and the new prospect Tawni had cleaning shot glasses, Miles, to go to her and sneak a quick kiss.

“Ooh, you are just looking for trouble, Ortiz.” She teased. Juice smirked and chuckled, giving a shrug.

“Hey, thanks for letting me in yesterday.” He said, swiping his thumb along her jaw, quickly. Tawni glanced up at him, tucking her curls behind her ear and smiled as she cleaned more glasses.

“Well, I’m not going to just turn you away, Juice. You’re my old man.” Tawni said, soft enough only he could hear her. Juice chuckled and smiled, taking a step closer to put his arm around her, but he stopped when flesh on leather sounded, followed by a painful groan from Tig. Tawni and Juice looked up, Juice revoking his step toward her, taking two more away from her, ready to jump into action, but with a small smirk on his face. Kozik shuffled, ready to fight as Tig stood up and turned to him. Piney helped him up, holding onto his arms to make sure he was okay, as Tig stared at Kozik. Tig shifted, reaching up to rub the shoulder Kozik punched.

“You son of a bitch…” Tig said.

“No fun getting suckerpunched is it?” Kozik taunted, shifting again.

“No. It’s not!” Tig growled into a shout, grabbing onto him and pushing him back toward Jax, Clay and the pool table where Clay observed. Kozik managed to turn Tig and slam him down on the table, causing an amused Clay to move as the guys started shouting. Juice moved quickly, moving the chairs and tables out of the way, then quickly getting out of the way as well, going back to Tawni. Tawni shook her head and chuckled as she put away the glasses.

“Fucking children.” Tawni chuckled as she stole glances as she worked. The big prospect took a few steps closer, but Jax stopped him with a hand to his chest, moving to lean on the table behind him, crossing his arms to watch the fight.

“Should we do anything?” He asked. Jax looked at him and smirked.

“Yeah.” Jax started, “Get some brooms. There’ll be a lot of shit to clean up.”

Tawni giggled and looked up at them. Jax looked at her and laughed softly as she waved the prospect over, before turning his attention back to the fight.

“What should we do?” He asked her.

“Just what Jax said. Brooms and other cleaning shit is in the closet in the kitchen. Just keep an eye out of what breaks and deal with it once it’s over.” Tawni said, gently moving Miles out of the way as he and the other prospect watched the fight. Tawni moved the shot glasses back under the bar, shifting all the other drinks off in case the fight moved over. Kozik and Tig were going at it and the clubhouse was filled with shouts and hollers of the other members egging them on as they did.

“Don’t dance, hit him!” Happy yelled, smirking. Chibs leaned forward between Opie and Piney with a laugh and a loud ‘Oh!’ Tawni shook her head and sighed, just waiting for the fight to be over. Finally, before they killed each other, Jax and Clay began to pry the men apart, Happy and Chibs joining them to pull them away.

“Alright. Alright. Ye’ve both made yer points.” Chibs said, inserting himself in the space between the men. “Yer’e both pret’y.”

The guys laughed as they moved Kozik and Tig as far from each other as they could to patch them up. Chibs took Tig into chapel while Tawni excused herself from the bar and went to Kozik, taking him from Happy and leading him down to one of the rooms. Tawni sat him down on the bed and opened the first aid kit she snagged from the kitchen.

“Told you,” Kozik said, shrugging off his Kutte and tugging off his shirt. Tawni gave him a look.

“From what I saw, you threw the first punch. That’s called instigating, Koz.” She said. “Now hold still…”

Tig didn't really have time to pull off his rings before beating them into Kozik’s face. He already had a wicked bruise blooming over his left eye and a nasty cut above it. Tawni scooted closer to him on the bed and pressed a rubbing alcohol soaked cotton puff to the wound, making Kozik squeeze his eyes shut with a hiss and grip her arm with one hand, the other snaking around her waist and gripping her hip. Tawni shook her head and smirked.

“Ye big baby.” She teased. Kozik opened his right eye and chuckled, letting go of her arm. Like her uncle, Tawni was well versed in medicine, mostly having learned it from him when he left the army and joined SAMBEL. So she became the go-to if both Chibs and Tara weren’t an option, which happened rarely for the big stuff, but Tawni was the one who patched up most of the members after fights and the like a majority of the time. Tawni dug through the kit for a cold compress to break up and slap on his face as Kozik looked her over and smiled.

“You look good, Tawni. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” Kozik said. Tawni glanced at him as she continued to search. While their fling was short-lived, that didn't mean his feelings went completely away like Tawni’s did. She was much younger than him, but he always saw her as more mature than the other, older, Crow Eaters, which attracted him even more.

“Yeah. It’s been a few years, Koz.” Tawni said. Kozik pulled her close, making her turn to him as he ducked his head to kiss her. Before he could Tawni turned her head away and sighed. “Kozik...You really shouldn’t…”

“What? You got a boyfriend now?” He asked, surprised and a little unconvinced. Tawni nodded and scooted away from him.

“Yeah. I do.” She said, packing up the kit and tossing the used puffs. Kozik chuckled and said, “Who? Chibs didn't seem on edge about it.”

Chibs was always protective of his only niece. She did date outside the club, but every time she revealed who her uncle was, the relationships ended and Tawni sought the comfort of her uncle. Anytime she told him she had a new beau, he was always on edge whenever she showed up out of the blue, just waiting to hear what poor, pathetic sap hurt her this time. Tawni glanced at him and closed the kit.

“He doesn't know yet.” She said. Kozik raised an eyebrow, surprised.

“Who is the kid?” Kozik asked, watching her. She sighed and turned to him.

“Koz, please. Jus’ drop it ‘nd dinna tell Chibs, yeah?” Tawni asked. “When i’s t’e right time, I’ll tell ‘im. But if I ‘ear ‘e ‘eard it from ye, I’ll give ye a matching eye, yeh?”

Kozik smirked as he tugged his shirt back on. “Alright, alright. Don’t go all Irish on me.” He teased. Tawni gave him a look as he grabbed his Kutte and made his way out, kissing her cheek and thanking her for patching him up before he left. Tawni closed her eyes and sighed, giving her head a small shake before she left the room and stowed the kit away, back in its spot.

~

About three days later, Tawni woke up and stretched, feeling around Juice’s bed, but meeting a cold spot. Her eyes snapped open as she finally registered the sounds of drawers opening and zippers being pulled. Tawni yawned and sat up, watching Juice as he packed.

“Hey. Where are you going? You got a run?” She asked. Juice glanced at her and shook his head.

“No. Um...We’re going to Ireland.” Juice said. Tawni blinked.

“Excuse me?” Tawni said. She scrambled out of bed and started packing a bag of her own. Juice zipped up the last pocket and turned to try and grab at her as she brushed passed him.

“Hey, hey! No. There is no way you’re coming.” Juice said, catching her upper arm and dragging her away from the dresser. Tawni gave him a look.

“You lot really think you’re going to Ireland without me?” She asked.

“It’s going to be dangerous, Tawni! We’re flying overseas as felons in a fucking cargo plane. If we get caught and you go down with us-”

“Then make sure that doesn’t happen, Juice,” Tawni said, pulling her arm out of his grasp. “I’m not going to be left behind while you all go to my home without me. Besides, I still have connections there if you need anything. I’ve used them before.”

Juice groaned. “Tawni, please don’t do this to me,” Juice said. “What is Chibs going to say when we show up, together, and packed?”

“You’re going to drop me off at home so I can pack, then you’re going to take me with you to the clubhouse. We’ll make up some excuse, that I overheard the guys at the bar talking about it or something. But I’m going.” Tawni said, tugging on her jeans and shirt from the day before. Juice sighed.

“Fuck. Why am I dating you again?” He asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder as Tawni shoved a pair of jeans from the dresser into her bag. She turned to him and smiled, kissing him softly, and said, “Because you love me?”

Juice smirked as she bounced out of the room. “Yeah. I’m beginning to question that love…” He chuckled to himself.

~

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@badwolf-in-the-impala