#And how the sheriff said he always got back up

[chaosandwolves]

I can't believe this silly movie broke my heart so badly that I put on one of my biggest comfort movies and that I'm staying on the couch to sleep...

How do you just f*ck over your own fans like that?

Derek deserved to be finally at ease and happy.

Derek deserved better but so did we.

I'm truly heartbroken cause they didn't need to do that. They said this is for the fans but then pull that... Wow

[singmyaubade]

Shades Of Cool

toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader

summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.

warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..

a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.

series

One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.

It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,

"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.

"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.

"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.

"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.

JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"

"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.

"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.

"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.

"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.

"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.

"And when-" Pope began.

"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.

You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.

You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.

But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.

All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.

But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.

"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.

You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.

Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.

Which meant the only choice was the beach party,

JJ cheered, "I win!"

You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.

It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.

You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.

Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.

You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.

All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.

But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.

And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.

You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.

You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.

His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.

You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.

"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.

His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.

He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.

You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.

You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.

"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.

"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.

"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.

"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"

"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"

"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"

"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"

"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.

"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.

"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.

"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"

"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.

He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.

"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.

Great attempt at being a gentlemen.

"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.

"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.

"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.

He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.

The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?

"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.

"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.

You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"

He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.

Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"

"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.

"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.

He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"

Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"

He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.

Asshole.

"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"

"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.

He really believed in this bullshit.

"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.

"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.

"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.

"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.

"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.

"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.

"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.

The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.

As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.

He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.

'What an asshole,' You thought,

Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.

You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.

You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.

You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.

You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.

You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.

You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.

Sounds like how they described him.

But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.

You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.

Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.

You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,

And everything went black.

tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 1. a fresh start

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: After you settle into your tiny, dingy apartment safely in the middle of nowhere, you go on the hunt for a job to help make ends meet. There, you meet someone who forces back memories you would rather forget.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, PTSD-type symptoms

WC: 6K

Series Masterlist

Anybody else who walked into the small, one bedroom apartment you were currently standing in would most likely be revolted. The kitchen faucet dripped incessantly, the toilet was stained, the carpet looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a decade, and the entire place smelled like garlic from the pizza place downstairs. But when you looked at it, you smiled. You could work with this. Rummaging around the dollar store bags you left on the kitchen counter, you pulled out all of the cleaning supplies you picked up and got to work.

The landlord - who also happened to be the owner of the pizza place - seemed surprised you wanted to rent it. He said the place had been vacant for close to a year, and considering the state, he knocked off quite a bit on the price. But you could see the potential beyond the grime, and you never shied away from a little hard work, so you jumped at the opportunity. It took you almost the whole day, but you managed to get the place smelling halfway decent. The bathroom and kitchen both looked sparkling new - well, relatively. The only thing you couldn't figure out was the faucet, but that concerned you the least since your landlord said that utilities were included.

Aside from the low rent, the next best thing about the place was it came partially furnished. It had a queen bed, a beat up sofa, and a rickety dining room table, but that was all you needed. At this point, you were just happy to not be staying in another dirty motel. You were ready to find a home, plant down some roots, and start fresh. And Fredericksburg, Texas was just as good a town as any.

You were surprised by how cute the town was when you first drove down Main Street. It was quiet and quaint, and very much had a small town atmosphere. When you were at the dollar store, you had overheard the cashier making conversation with every single customer as if she had known them all her life. By the time it was your turn to cash out, she examined you quizzically, most likely trying to place you, but fortunately she let it go and didn't pry. You weren't in the mood to make up more lies. You were exhausted from being on the road so much the past few weeks, and you just wanted to collapse into bed in a somewhat clean room.

And that is exactly what you did, after you stocked the small fridge with some essentials from the grocery store at the corner of the street so you would at least have coffee and something to eat in the morning.

As you laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan swirling above, you silently thanked your grandmother all those years ago who told you since you were old enough to understand when you meet a man, keep your own bank account. At the time, you laughed, wondering why on earth anyone would purposely keep secrets from their partner. That it seemed like such a betrayal to even suggest it. But luckily for you, when you met Patrick, you already had your own bank account. You let it lie dormant for a while, almost forgetting you had it. Eventually, you told yourself you should close the account. But that required going down to the branch in person, and you never seemed to find the time to do it. Or maybe some part of you always knew there was something ugly about him, and maybe your grandmother's words had more of an effect on you than you realized.

Whatever it was, it's the reason you were able to find a shitty little apartment in the middle of nowhere without anybody being able to track you down. And for the first time in a long time, you closed your eyes and felt safe.

The next morning, after you drank your surprisingly palatable off brand coffee and ate a borderline stale blueberry muffin, you headed down the steps of your apartment to the sidewalk lining Main Street. You took a deep breath and looked around, a small smile playing on your lips. The town was just waking up, businesses just opening their doors, cars rolling lazily down the street. You had your own car - it was an old Honda Civic that you weren't entirely sure had many years left - but you wouldn't need it today. Picking an apartment on the main drag in town afforded you the option to walk almost anywhere. So you chose a direction and started walking, glancing in the windows of the shops, looking for any help wanted signs.

You tried a small clothing boutique and a coffee shop before entering the pharmacy. There wasn't a help wanted sign out front, but you needed to pick up a few things, anyway. Things the dollar store didn't have, or things you didn't exactly trust to buy there.

You grabbed a basket by the door and smiled at the teenager behind the counter who greeted you before heading down the first aisle. You snagged some generic pain reliever and a box of tampons before you made your way to the hair products. Flipping open the caps, you took a hesitant sniff and put them back before deciding on a cheaper bottle that smelled like strawberries and didn't make you gag. Dropping the bottles in your basket, you wandered past the makeup, looking at it longingly but knowing you wouldn't waste the money on it. Instead, you stopped in front of an end-cap where a display of chapstick caught your eye.

"Sarah?" you heard a deep voice call from behind. You ignored it and kept looking at the display, landing on a vanilla scent as the man walked past. You didn't see his face, but you smelled his cologne, and you instantly recoiled. Your heart began to slam in your chest and your throat felt tight. You squeezed your eyes shut as you focused on taking deep breaths. It's not him, it's not him, it's not him.

"Excuse me, can I grab one of those?" a girl's voice said softly behind you. Taking a shaky step back, you nodded and forced a weak smile.

"Sorry, of course," you told her. She had beautiful, dark brown eyes and thick hair with tight curls framing her face. She looked like she was in her early teens, and based on the backpack over her shoulders, you were probably right.

"Sarah?" you heard the voice call again, and you saw her eyes flick up. You realized the man with the cologne was probably related to her, and you weren't sure you would be able to handle smelling it again, so you quickly took off down the next aisle to hide, waiting until their voices carried them to the cash registers and out the front door before taking a few steadying breaths and forcing yourself to move.

Minor setback aside, you had a pretty good morning. You found you had some luck at the diner a few blocks over. The owner took a liking to you right away and interviewed you on the spot.

"You came at the perfect time, darlin'," he said, taking a seat across from you. "Just missed the breakfast rush, so I got the time to talk right now. Name's Tommy," he said, extending his hand. You smiled and shook it, introducing yourself, then quickly brought your hand back to your lap to nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt.

"You ever work in a restaurant before?"

"Uh, yeah, it's been a few years. But I think it's like riding a bike. I have really good time management skills, I have experience handling cash, I'm friendly, I'm great at anticipating customer's needs-"

Tommy laughed and patted his hand on the table.

"Sounds like you got more skills than half the waitstaff I already got. Some of the older ladies ain't exactly friendly, but they've been here so long, no one seems to mind," he explained quietly with a wink. You chuckled and glanced down at your hands.

"You from around here? I don't think I recognize you," he asked, his eyebrows pinching together. You shook your head.

"Nope, just moved here." You briefly wondered if you should lie - you were so used to lying at this point, it came as second nature - but you couldn't see what it would hurt to tell him the truth. "I'm from Pennsylvania. Just got in last night, actually."

"Long way from home, what brought you here?" he asked, leaning back to study you. You just shrugged.

"Looking for a fresh start," you said honestly. If you were really looking to start over, the lying needed to stop, too.

Tommy nodded and glanced behind you before meeting your gaze again.

"Well, you're hired. If you want the job, that is," he said. You grinned, not expecting that.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. When can you start?"

"Uh, tomorrow?" you offered, your mind racing. You weren't sure if you would need new clothes so you wanted to give yourself the rest of the day, at least, to prepare.

"Works for me. Maria," Tommy called over your shoulder. You turned around and saw a beautiful woman with long, dark braids walking over. He introduced her as his wife, who also happened to be the hostess. You stood to shake her hand, exchanging warm smiles as Tommy told her your name.

"Why don't you come by tomorrow 'round 9 and Maria can show you the ropes? I work the kitchen, she's got the floor," he explained, and you nodded along excitedly.

"I'll be here," you confirmed, the grin still plastered on your face. Tommy left to head back to the kitchen as Maria told you what you needed to bring the next day. You took out your new phone and began jotting down everything she mentioned.

On the way back home, you stopped to pick up a pair of nonslip sneakers from a shoe store. Maria had given you a couple plain black skirts and black t-shirts with the diner's logo that all of the waitresses wore as their uniform before you left. To celebrate, you got a pizza from the pizza place below your apartment and watched old reruns on the ancient TV in your living room.

Things were finally starting to come together.

"Refills are free. Cream and sugar is down here, along with any extra condiments. Coffee should be made every hour but you'll go through the pot long before that," Maria said to you, pointing as she walked behind the counter. "Here's some extra notepads and pens. The computer system is kind of old but pretty easy to use. Tommy'll ring the bell when food is up, we try to move it as quick as possible before it gets cold, even if it's not your table," she said, turning around to face you. "It might take some time to learn the table numbers but we have a little cheat sheet next to all the registers. And if you're ever not sure, don't hesitate to ask."

"I think I got it," you said confidently, tapping your pen against your notepad.

"You can shadow with Betty today, she's been here for decades, long before Tommy and me ever bought the place. She knows her shit forwards and backwards," Maria said, leading you back to the kitchen where you saw an older, round woman struggling with a cardboard box.

"Here, let me help," you told her, rushing over to take the box from her.

"Thanks, sweetie," she said with a smile. "Can you take it up front for me?"

"Of course," you said, following her through the kitchen.

Maria introduced you to Betty as you helped her stock the ketchup bottles underneath the front counter. You heard Tommy's voice call for Maria through the kitchen window and she excused herself, leaving the two of you to tend to the only two customers in the place.

The morning went by quickly. Betty was nicer than you expected. In your experience, when a newcomer joins a seasoned team, it sometimes takes time for the veterans to warm up, but she seemed very eager to show you the ropes, and she had the patience of a saint. All of the customers seemed to know her name and history, some occasionally asking about her husband or her children. As it inched closer to noon, the diner started getting busier again, so you began to branch out a bit on your own, taking a few simple orders and delivering food or refills whenever you could. Betty was deep in conversation with a regular when she waved you over.

"D'you mind takin' care of him?" she asked, nodding over to the man who just sat down. "That's Joel, Tommy's brother. Don't charge him for nothin', he comes in all the time."

You nodded and pulled your pen and notepad out of your apron as you headed over to greet him. When you finally lifted your gaze, you noticed he was wearing a worn, brown suit with a striped tie and as you got closer, you saw the little gold star pinned to his belt and the bulge of a handgun under his blazer.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you made the realization he's a cop.

It's fine, it's fine, it's fine you kept repeating to yourself, forcing your feet to move. You thought you were okay by the time you stood in front of him, but then his cologne invaded your senses, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck.

Fortunately, his head was bent down looking at the menu and didn't see your reaction, which afforded you a few precious seconds to collect yourself. It's not him.

"Hey Betty, I'll have-" he glanced up and realized you were not, in fact, Betty. His warm brown eyes trailed over your face for a moment too long, making you shift your weight nervously.

"Sorry, didn't uh - have we met?" he asked, his eyes unblinking as he continued to stare, and you felt the heat creeping up your neck. It's fine, you're fine.

"No," you finally managed to squeak out, shaking your head and introducing yourself right as his eyes drifted to your name tag. "What can I get for you?"

You needed to walk away. You weren't sure how much longer you could stand there smelling that fucking cologne and staring at that badge. But for some reason, he didn't answer you. Maybe if you weren't so wrapped up in your own issues, you would have recognized the look in his eye. The look that clearly expressed interest beyond you taking his food order. And maybe, if you weren't so messed up, you would have realized he was insanely handsome. Maybe, if you could have seen past the cologne and the gold star on his waist, you would have noticed how plush his lips looked, or how big and strong his hands were. You had no idea how you could possibly miss how broad his shoulders were or how thick and soft the messy, dark curls were on top of his head.

But you did miss all of those things the first time you saw him, because he just kept staring and the scent was making your stomach turn and the fluorescent light was shining too brightly off that damn star, so you repeated yourself with a little more edge to your voice than you usually had.

He finally snapped out of it and glanced down at the menu, quickly telling you his order. You wrote it down and held your breath, only letting it go once you were around the corner and far enough away. He comes in all the time, Betty's words replayed in your mind. You were either going to need to find a way to deal with your issues, or find a new job.

"Hiya, Joel. New girl take care of you?" Betty asked as she ambled over to refill his coffee. His eyes flicked around the diner, following your form as you smiled and chatted warmly with other customers.

"Yeah, when did she start?" he asked, trying to sound noncommittal, but Betty saw right through it.

"Today," she told him with a smirk. "Real smart. Pretty, too, don'tcha think?"

"Uh," Joel stammered before clearing his throat. "Yeah, suppose so."

"I think she's single," Betty told him, leaning up against the counter.

"When are you gonna quit tryin' to set me up with every woman in this town?" Joel asked her with a grin.

"Whenever you decide to finally settle down," she shot right back. "You need a woman in your life, Joel."

"Do you do this to all your customers, Betty? Grill 'em 'bout their love lives and tell 'em what they need, like you know best?"

"I do know best, Joel," she said with a wink. "And you know it."

"Yeah, well. I got my hands full with Sarah and work down at the station. Don't got time for all that," he said, taking a sip of his black coffee.

"Sarah's 'bout to be goin' off to college before you know it, and there ain't nearly enough crime in this town to keep you that busy," she said with a shake of her head.

Joel mumbled something under his breath before taking another sip of coffee and glancing around the dining room.

"What was that?" Betty asked, leaning in and cupping her ear. Joel sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Don't think she likes me much, anyway," he said, clearer now.

"Oh, well I can find out for you, sugar. All you gotta do is ask." Betty gave Joel the biggest shit eating grin she could muster. He took a deep breath before asking what he knew would be a huge mistake, but he suddenly needed to know the answer.

"Can you..." he trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek and staring down at the closed menu.

"Can I what?"

Joel groaned and dragged his eyes back up to Betty.

"Can you find out if she'd be interested?" he finally spit out, and Betty clapped her hands.

"Of course I will, Joel! I would absolutely love to," she gushed, and he rolled his eyes again. Just then, he saw you come around the corner and go behind the counter, completely ignoring the two of you before reaching up to the kitchen window and grabbing his lunch. You turned around and gave him what looked to be a forced smile and carefully set the plate down in front of him with a bottle of ketchup. Betty took a step back and watched with a glimmer in her eye as Joel's neck began to flush.

"Can I get you anything else?" you asked. Your voice sounded sweet and you were smiling, but your smile didn't reach your eyes. Maybe he was reading too much into it.

"Nope, all set, thank you," he said, giving you a warm smile in return, but before he even had a chance to say anything else, to try to make a connection and learn more about you, you scurried away. He glanced over at Betty and raised his eyebrows.

"See?"

She waved him off and picked up a rag to wipe down the counter.

"She's just nervous, is all."

The embarrassment still sat with you by the time you arrived back to your apartment that evening. When Betty caught you off guard and asked what you thought of Joel, you couldn't turn down the idea fast enough. You must have looked and sounded crazy based on her reaction. Your only saving grace was Joel had already left the diner and didn't hear you vehemently tell her you wanted nothing to do with him. It wasn't his fault, you weren't interested in hurting his feelings, but you were far too vulnerable still. The wounds were too fresh and the memories were too strong.

Besides, even if you weren't in the unfortunate position you were in, you wouldn't feel right dragging even more people down with you. You dug this grave, so you had to dig yourself out. And you were on the right track, too. As far as you knew, nobody knew where you were. You were incredibly careful, you kept a low profile, and you didn't contact a single person back home. You had no idea who you could even trust anymore, so the safest bet was to just cut all ties and start over.

You weren't going to risk everything by getting involved with some guy. Okay, he was more like a man. But still. Your situation was far too complicated to get involved with anybody. Technically, you shouldn't get involved with anybody.

No, it was a very bad idea.

So why couldn't you stop thinking about him?

"Stop it," you muttered out loud to yourself as you paced around your little apartment. With a huff, you picked up the small potted plant you bought on clearance and gave it a little bit of water from the dripping kitchen sink before putting it back on the windowsill.

Remember what he smelled like? Remember he's a cop?

That did the trick. Those two simple reminders erased all prior thoughts about the handsome sheriff who visited the diner earlier that day.

And as you tucked yourself into bed that night, you convinced yourself the only reason who were momentarily intrigued by the man's interest was flattery. You were simply flattered someone looked at you in that way. It's been a long time since anybody had, and it just made you feel good.

Yep, that's all it was.

When Joel sat down at the counter the next day and was greeted by Betty instead of you, he was surprised to find he was disappointed. He had just met you, he knew nothing about you, he barely even spoke to you. Why should he care if you were waiting on him today or not?

"She ain't here," Betty said when she caught Joel glancing around the dining room. He tried not to look deflated.

"Who?"

Betty laughed heartily at that and had to pause to catch her breath so she wouldn't spill his coffee.

"Listen, Joel," she said, setting the coffee pot down and leaning on the counter. "Remember what I said yesterday? 'Bout how I always know what's best?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, eyeing her up and bracing for what was coming next.

"Well, turns out I might have been wrong. There's a first time for everythin', right?" she said, forcing a laugh that he didn't reciprocate.

"What'dya mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I don't think she's interested in datin' anyone right now," was all she said, and he felt the disappointment instantly flood his veins. He didn't even realize how much he had been hoping his instinct was wrong, that maybe he misread you, but of course he was right. He was a cop, after all. He was good at reading people, it's what he was trained to do.

"That's it?"

"I don't know, Joel. Maybe she's not into men, I didn't ask any more questions," she said. "Besides, I was thinkin'. Margaret's daughter is back in town. You remember Nikki?"

Joel shrugged and turned back to his coffee. He remembered Nikki. He wasn't interested in Nikki. She was a nice girl, but he didn't feel anything when he looked at her. Not like the way he felt when he looked at you.

"Now I know for a fact that Nikki's had a crush on you since you were in high school. I could talk to Margaret at church this weekend..."

"No thanks," Joel said immediately, then glanced at his watch before standing up and tossing a tip down on the table. "Gotta get back to work, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

He turned on his heel and left before Betty had a chance to reply.

What a stupid idea. What did he expect would actually happen? That you would fall in love with him after he spoke barely three sentences to you? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Hey, Joel," he heard the owner of the hardware shop call out to him in greeting as he walked by.

"Hey, Lee. How's it goin'?" Joel stopped outside the open door to the shop, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Lee sweep the floor.

"Can't complain. 'Cept, you get any leads on those vandals? Someone's been drawin' obscene things on the street signs over on Willow." Lee lowered his voice and glanced over his shoulder before adding "someone even drew a phallic image on a deer crossin' sign."

Joel had to stifle a chuckle because he knew the old man was completely serious.

"I'm on it, Lee. Promise, I'll get to the bottom of it," he said with a nod.

A clatter deep within the store pulled both of their attention toward the noise.

"You alright back there, miss?" Lee called, peering down the aisle. Joel's breath caught in his throat when he heard your voice.

"Yeah, sorry! Just dropped something," you replied, emerging from the aisle looking a little flustered and holding an array of tools in your hands. You stiffened before you even laid eyes on him, like you could sense him before even seeing he was there. Joel couldn't help but take it a little personally. Why were you so sweet and friendly to Lee and other customers at the diner, but so cold to him?

You glanced his way nervously and he tried to give you a reassuring smile, maybe even a quick hello, but you immediately turned to address Lee, asking him questions on how to fix a kitchen faucet. Joel watched as Lee picked out the right tool for you and explained how to fix it, but it was clear as day you were having a hard time following. Lee must have noticed as well.

"You ever fix anythin' 'round a house, sweetheart?" Lee asked, and a little pink dusted your cheeks, making Joel's heart flutter in his chest.

"Is it that obvious?" you asked him with a sweet smile. Why wouldn't you look at him like that?

Lee laughed good-naturedly before turning to Joel.

"Joel, would you mind helpin' her out? Her place's on the way back to the station."

Your smile fell and you instantly shook your head, eyes widening as you clutched the tool in your hand.

"N-no, that's okay, I can manage," you said, first to Lee, then braved a glance in his direction before dropping your eyes to the floor.

A big part of Joel told himself to just give up, just let you be and ignore whatever it was that made you dislike him so much. But he just couldn't do it.

"Not a problem, it should just take a second," Joel finally said, tilting his head to look at you. "Where d'you live?"

He could tell you were incredibly uncomfortable now, and he wondered if he should stop pushing it. It looked like you could hardly breathe as you stared at the floor and considered your options.

"Just a few blocks that way," you said meekly, pointing north up Main Street. Joel pushed himself off the doorframe and stood aside so you could squeeze through without getting too close to him, and for that you seemed grateful. He nodded to Lee before following you down the sidewalk, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he tried to think of something to say.

"You likin' it here so far?"

"Uh huh," you replied, your gaze trained straight ahead. The pair of you walked in an awkward silence for another minute before he tried again.

"You got a place right on Main?"

"Above the pizza parlor," you said, and before he could follow up with another question, you suddenly stopped walking. He turned around when he realized and gave you a confused look.

"I really appreciate the offer, but I think I can figure out the sink for myself," you told him, forcing yourself to look into his eyes this time when you spoke.

"It's no trouble. It's what we all do 'round here, we help each other out," he replied. You fidgeted with the strap of your purse and averted your gaze. He waited for you to weigh your options, not wanting to pressure you but also not ready to give up, either. Finally, you spoke.

"You said it'll be quick?"

He grinned and nodded.

"Less than ten minutes."

You sighed and forced yourself to continue walking.

"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind..."

"I'm sure."

You walked in silence the rest of the way to your apartment. Joel seemed nice enough, and you could probably even get over the fact he was a cop, but you just couldn't get past the fucking cologne. It permeated every molecule of air whenever he was near, and you couldn't stop the horrible memories that came flooding back. You knew you would end up regretting allowing him into your apartment because you would end up spending the rest of the day trying to rid your little sanctuary of that scent. But you were weak. You never were very good at saying no. And this time was no exception.

You unlocked the front door and Joel held it open while you led him up the creaky stairs, then unlocked the second door at the top that led directly into your small apartment. He closed the door behind him and glanced around, taking in your space for the first time.

"Cozy," he finally said, and you let out a soft chuckle.

"You could say that," you replied. The room wasn't very big, but he noticed the moment you both entered, you put as much space between the two of you as you could. Your eyes were flicking around the room anxiously, your back against the only window and your fingers clutching the tool to your chest, toying with it nervously. He took a couple steps towards you and your fidgeting stopped. You dragged your gaze up to his as he studied your curious behavior. If it wasn't obvious before, it was crystal clear now: he made you incredibly uncomfortable.

Rather than make things worse, he stopped halfway across the room and just held out his hand. You stared at it, unmoving and barely breathing before he cleared his throat.

"Wrench?"

"Oh," you said softly, letting out a shaky breath before taking a step forward and handing him the tool you had just bought. He took it and gave you one more look before turning back towards the small kitchen. He shrugged off his blazer and draped it over the back of a chair, and your throat went dry when you clocked the gun on his waist.

You watched him warily as he flicked on the overhead light and fiddled with the lever of the sink before opening the cabinets underneath and peering inside at the plumbing. You hardly moved a muscle as you watched him. You wished you could light the scented candle on your table to help minimize the cologne, but you were too nervous he would find that suggestive. The silence became deafening as he worked, and you felt compelled to say something.

"Can I get you some water?"

He stopped what he was doing and gave you a small smirk.

"As long as it ain't from the tap," he said, tilting his head towards the faucet he currently had taken apart. You smiled and walked quickly over to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of water. He noticed your fingers shaking slightly when you handed him the water, and he frowned.

"You alright?"

"Me?" you squeaked, as if there were anyone else in the room he could be addressing. He nodded slowly and unscrewed the cap, still staring at you.

"I'm fine," you assured him, but still took a few paces back to stand next to your window again. Far away from him. He looked you up and down as he took a sip of his water before setting the bottle down on the counter.

"I can tell you got some issue with me," he began, and you stilled, watching him carefully from across the room, clutching the water bottle tightly against your chest. You shook your head quickly, but he held out a hand to stop you.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable at the diner," he said.

"W-what do you mean?" you stammered.

"Betty," he added, raising his eyebrows. "She's got a tendency to stick her nose where it don't belong, and I know she said somethin' to you 'bout me. I just wanted to apologize if that put you in tough spot."

"Oh, that's alright," you told him, quickly waving him off. He chewed the corner of his mouth as he studied your surprisingly relaxed response. So Betty's prying wasn't the problem.

"You gotta give me somethin' here," he said after a moment, and you dropped your gaze to your feet. "What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," you said softly, your eyes still pinned to the floor.

"Then why can't you stand lookin' at me for more than five seconds?" he asked, desperate now to know the answer.

"Does it matter?" you whispered.

"I wish it didn't," he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. You finally looked up at him now, taking in his hurt expression, and you felt your resolve crumbling. What happened to you wasn't this man's fault.

"What does that mean?" you asked him, and it was his turn to look away.

"Nothin'," he finally mumbled, his heart slamming against his chest.

"It's your cologne," you blurted out, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wasn't expecting that.

"My... cologne?"

"It's nothing personal, I'm just sensitive to smells." He knew you were lying. Your entire apartment smelled like garlic and marinara sauce from the pizza place downstairs. But he decided not to push it.

"My daughter - Sarah - she got it for me for Father's Day. Truth be told, I don't like it much, either," he told you, and much to his relief, he saw the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly. He just shrugged and turned back to the sink.

"Nothin' for you to be sorry 'bout. Thought I offended you or somethin', is all," he told you as he worked on putting the faucet back together.

You took a few tentative steps closer to peer over his shoulder.

"Can you show me what you did to fix it?" you asked. He straightened up to look at you and twirled the wrench in his hand, deciding to be bold.

"If I do that, then I won't have an excuse to come see you when it breaks again."

You bit your lip to hide your smile as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He grinned and turned back to the sink. Maybe he still had a chance. He was nearly finished, but he showed mercy on you and explained what he did, anyway.

Once he was done, you walked him down to the first floor, thanking him profusely along the way.

"Don't mention it," he said, shoving his arms through his blazer as he walked, but turned back before you closed the door.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you gazed up at him. Now that you were back outside and the scent wasn't so strong, you allowed yourself to acknowledge that Joel was a good looking man. A really good looking man. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you cursed Patrick for ruining so many things for you, but you were afraid the worst thing he might have actually ruined for you was Joel.

You slowly nodded, then he grinned and tilted his head to the side.

"You have yourself a good rest of the day, sweetheart."

You felt yourself blush at the term of endearment, but luckily he had already turned away.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @merz-8 @sarap-77

[ajortga]

(over) protective

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: jenna has never let you out of her sight after she almost lost you, even during the most unnecessary times.

word count: 2.4k+

warnings: little angst, mentions of blood, injuries, near character death? knives, kidnapping mentions, mostly fluff after the parts inspired by a good girl's guide to murder pass, jenna being a silly girl

based off request! the start was a little rushed:(

-

Where r goes missing for a month and when she was found somewhere kidnapped or smthng Jenna has been so very very VERY protective of r and has NEVER let r out of her sight. Thats all tyyy

-

Most likely dead.

That’s the word Jenna couldn’t stop hearing on the news once the 72 hour mark hit on the news. 

Dead, dead, dead. 

She couldn’t bear it, it made her stomach stir wildly, her breath quickening like she just ran a 20k race. 

The first three days a person goes missing is the most important, as those hours go up, the likelihood of a person being found decreases.

The likelihood of you being found decreases by a landslide each time Jenna sees the clock hit another hour, anxiety filling her belly even though it was filled enough.

She wishes that she would have noticed the signs sooner. You weren’t home for four hours after going to run some errands.

You said it would be quick.

Jenna just brushed it off that you took some time off for yourself for that time, maybe got a massage. You always did that. She wished that she would have called you instead of texted you the first hour you were gone. You always answer her calls, maybe then she would’ve noticed that something was wrong. If you didn’t answer, you’d call her back just a little moment after.

She wished that she would've noticed that something was wrong when the signs were right in front of her.

Sweat dripped down her forehead during those 3 nights. 3 nights of restless movements and praying that you would be okay. What would she do if you weren’t? No, Jenna couldn’t think like that. She hoped that you just decided to get time to yourself for a while, she really hoped that would be the case. 

The police came with little solutions. It was likely that you ran away or got kidnapped. Jenna couldn’t bear to hear the second part if evidence supported it. 

Endless ticks of the clock were slow, yet as slow as they were, she hoped that it could mean that you could be found faster since the clock was ticking so slowly. But it just wasn’t like that.

72 hours turns into a week. Then 3. And by the time Jenna feels like she’s going to mentally kill herself, she finds out. As soon as the sheriffs send her a call, she’s busting out of her apartment, going speeds that would get her a ticket, two if she were lucky.

The police had told her you were kidnapped. They had gotten a lead when your girlfriend told them that you went out for some errands. They traced back to the security footage that was available. They searched all stores that could possibly have a slither of Sure enough, after a few days of waiting, footage from multiple stores were sent back. 

Replays and replays. The day when your body was found is when he found you, about to enter your car after stuffing bags of groceries. A strong pair of arms dragging you away as they shoved chemicals, most likely chloroform into your mouth.

But who was he? Who was this man that dragged you away as your kicks and struggles lessened, your eyes rolling back when you began to pass out?

The killer was masked, but they weren’t slick enough, of course when they drove away, they were stupid enough (Jenna was so glad for this) to drive a licensed car that belonged to them.

They may have found the killer, but it would take even longer to find you.

How the hell did it take them a month to be able to find you? That’s 10 times as much as 72 hours.

-

You were found, unconscious and limp in a secluded area 25 minutes away from the city. You were taped against the wall so you couldn't move. Fresh looking bloody wounds and gashes littered all over your body. Even the police couldn’t recognize you with the blood covering your shaking figure. 

The body they found was cold, starved, maybe a cracker or two per meal, you were so malnourished.

It was scary. So so scary. As soon as Jenna came to the scene, she was sobbing. Sobbing because a part of her thought you would die.

The building was small, gray, locked doors and broken windows. You had tried to get out, police told her from how the upper windows were shattered. But as soon as you did, you were dragged back. Duct taped even further against poles surrounding you, a rope barely strangling you, a knife sinking through every piece of untouched skin so you were in too much agony to move. They caught your kidnapper. Caught him before he could escape or hurt anyone else. If he was the cause of a disappearance for someone else, there would be someone like Jenna, hopeless and scared. Jenna was too tired and terrified to feel glad. But someone wouldn’t have to live through what Jenna did for a month, someone wouldn’t have to live like you did for a month.

“Oh my god!” The brunette girl wailed as she pushed out of medics' ways, seeing your pale body against a stretcher. “Y/N,” she cried, cupping your blood-stained face with her hands. “Wake up, it’s okay! I’m here.” 

An oxygen mask was covering your face, helping you breathe properly. This was the first time in weeks you were able to breathe fresh air. You couldn’t get proper airflow from how tightly your kidnapper tied tape around your neck. Your eyes barely open, catching a blurry sight of your girlfriend, her tears dripping on your teared up sweater before fluttering closed again.

“You can’t go,” you hear, before you nod off.

-

Jenna found out that your kidnapper was an obsessive and mentally insane fan of hers. He tracked you down as soon as he found out she was off limits and admitted he was planning to kill you. She didn’t even know how he tracked you, must’ve waited till paparazzi released photos and moved to the area nearby.

It made her sweat and stir with guilt, knowing that it was her fault that you could’ve been in massive danger. You were in massive danger, just saved at the right time. It might haunt her for years.

When you wake up, bright hospital lights greet you as you make a surprised and weak groan. The first thing you see when you open your eyes is those freckles you know all too well, cupping your cheeks as you whine from the sting of the cuts.

She’s rubbing your cheeks, caressing your neck, ruffling your hair, looking down at you with worried eyes. You feel as though she might cry when she’s shaking your body. “Y/N? Baby, are you awake?” 

“Mhh,” you mumble, squinting around the room as the steady monitor of your heart beeps through your ears.

“Hey, stop moving.” Jenna gently pushes you back onto the bed as your eyes look around in confusion. “Fuck, you scared me so badly,” she sniffles, wiping her tears as she grips onto your hand tightly. “I thought you died.”

If you two weren’t in this situation, you’d think it’s cute and silly how protective she was over you. But she was right, you could’ve died. You were trapped in a room with a kidnapper that wanted to kill you. The smallest windows, doors that were locked shut, and your vision was taken away from you most of the time, except when he fed you. It was basically crackers and the littlest amount of water. He fed you a little more when the two week mark hit, when you were basically a ragdoll.

The terrifying moments that would flash into your mind, creep into your dreams and turn your slumber into a nightmare would haunt you for months. Even when you managed to get out, he found you and hurt you so badly that you couldn’t move anymore. 

Jenna could tell you weren’t trying to show her you were scared. You didn’t want to make her more worried. 

"I'm never letting you leave my sight again."

-

When you got discharged from the hospital, Jenna made sure to stick with you wherever you went. 

As you make a tiny grunt and reach for the sugar on the top shelf, Jenna shrieks. “Nope! Not happening, I can get it.” She says, beginning to grab a big ass ladder from outside.

“Baby, I don’t think that’s necessary.. I can get it, you’re shorter than me and it’ll take a lot more work-”

Jenna comes back from the hallway, carrying a big ladder with her tiny hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she places it on the floor tile. She begins to climb up and grab the sugar. “You need to rest that body.”

You sigh, “Baby, I’m a month healed-”

“Are your injuries fully healed?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Well.. No but the doctor said-”

“Then I’m not letting you overstretch a single muscle, we can’t let those stitches rip, baby. Cuddles are the only exception.”

You roll your eyes, let her take the win on this one.

-

“I’m gonna go get us some watermelon! It’s hot, be right back!” You call out, grabbing your keys as you turn to go to open the door, except your girlfriend is already there.

“Nuh uh, not happening. Let’s go.” She says, extending her hand out to you for you to hold. You look at her with a confused expression, “Baby, we already have kiwi, I can go by my-” She interrupts you, “No, the last time you went to go out, you didn’t fucking come back for a month from that psycho. We are going together, I don’t care about kiwis right now. I care that if someone were to kidnap you, they’d have to go through me first.” Jenna pulls out a pair of boxing gloves from her tote bag.

“Where the hell did you get those?”

“On set! So I can defend you and don’t have to scratch my arms in the process.”

A deep breath leaves your lips as she shakes her hand, impatient to feel yours in hers. “Fine, you win. But don’t be upset if a kidnapper manages to take off those boxing gloves within seconds and take your short body away.”

She huffs, tugging your arm to the grocery store.

-

“Aliyah?” You blink, looking at the younger Ortega in your apartment. “What are you doing here?” You itch a bandaid as she plays with her hair.

“Jenna said I have to play bodyguard,” she says, shaking her head. “This girl had to film and didn’t want you to be alone.”

Your nose twitches.

“I could’ve just driven to your house, I don’t want us to both get kidnapped,” you joke.

Aliyah snorts, “I did think about that, but Jenna said no cause she didn’t want you to be in danger if you get into your car and somehow you get taken away.”

That’s just Jenna. Jenna Ortega. Sometimes you feel as if you should feel a little annoyed when she never lets you go alone anywhere. But you never can, you’re way too in love to be frustrated at your baby. If anything, it gives you an excuse to cling to her everywhere you go without being told off.

“You wanna bake?”

Aliyah looks at the kitchen as she shrugs, “Sure. Then I can tell Jenna we wanted to have a heating pan to defend ourselves and decided to bake while we were at it.”

-

"He looks suspicious." Your girlfriend says, taking a step forward and making sure you're behind her while she glares daggers at the man.

Sometimes you wish she was taller, because right now, she looks like a child you're babysitting.

She leans back a little too hard onto your front and you wince.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Shh, I'm sorry." She says with a frown, softly rubbing your healing wounds against your stomach.

"Baby, I think he's just staring because you have a butterfly knife out and about, looking like you're going to murder him." You admit, gesturing to the knife that was point sided up.

"That could be a reason. But I will fight if he comes near!"

"Jenna, we're standing in front of an entrance for a coffee shop. The poor man just wants to get coffee."

The freckled cheek girl turns to see what you're talking about and notices the glass door behind you two. "Oh shit."

You drag her wrist gently as you two step to the side, you give the man an empathetic smile. He nervously looks at Jenna and runs into the coffee shop.

"Why are you still staring at that man? And put that knife away!" You smack her arm lightly as she goes "Hey!" and closes the knife.

-

“Jenna, do you seriously have to be in the same stall as me while we go to the bathroom?” You say quietly, looking up at her as she stares at you intently while you do your business. “Hey, no eyes here, invasion of privacy. Couldn’t you have waited right outside the stall?”

Her freckled nose wrinkles, “And risk someone grabbing you from behind?” She waddles to the wall behind the toilet as she knocks. “I’m 500% sure that this wall can slide and someone is just waiting to take my baby, not happening!”

“Jen-” you sigh, a grin spreading across your lips, “At this point, I think you’re just making an excuse to stare at me pee.”

She gasps sarcastically, making a pfft noise. “Oh yeah, for sure. I just love watching you go to the bathroom in this cramped stall.” She mocks, her cheeks a little red.

“I know, I must be a beauty.”

You hear the restroom door open as you flush. “Dude, I don’t even think you can fit with me in here. It's so small. ”

Jenna rolls her eyes, an annoyed whine escaping her lips. “Well, it is a little tight in here.”

As you two exit the stall, a lady waiting in line looks at you both with a grimace. Confusion lingers in her features before you can tell that she’s thinking something different than what actually happened. The faucet turns on as cold water and bubbly soap cleanses your scarred hands. You giggle at the picture of that weirded-out look the poor lady gave you two. After you shut it off, you pull Jenna closer and cup a hand against her ear, whispering, “I think the person that was waiting in line thinks we just had sex in that stall.”

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which s2 rafe didn’t smile a lot. so, you liked to remember whenever he did.

rafe was stressed. he had been through a lot ever since the pogues made it their business to find the royal merchant. from killing sheriff peterkin, to suddenly being heavily devoted to pleasing his excuse of a father, he’d been down a bad path and had absolutely no idea what to do about it. so as his loyal lover, to see him smile every now and then? it made you a lot happier than it should.

the first time he’d smiled since the incident was when he came to tell you what he did. he debated hiding it from you, but there was no way you wouldn’t end up finding out — you had a lot of connections. you had been sitting in your vanity chair, doing your hair for a little party rafe was supposed to pick you up for. when he rang the doorbell, you smiled and ran down to answer it. you instantly greeted him with a hug, this little sunflower in his flowerless world. he didn’t hug you back. tilting your head, you pull away, confused. you asked what was wrong, he asked to come inside. you were nervous as to what he was gonna tell you. you cried when you found out he was a murderer. he was still in shock, or else he probably would be too.

then came lots of reasoning. he spent a good half hour explaining why he did it, repeating the same things sternly until it finally got through your head and your crying slowed. then there was a pause, and you sniffled and your voice trembled as you asked, “wanna get ice cream?” a weak smile cracked on his face. it made you smile. “..shit, kid. yeah, i wanna get some ice cream,”

the next rare moment of smiles was when he was leaving for the bahamas. it was nothing huge, you nor him did anything ‘smile-worthy’, but maybe it was the way you wrapped your arms around him and told him to be safe. he thought it was silly, you never liked his dad and it was almost cute that you were scared of ward like that, worried he’d put rafe in danger. he just smiled and kissed your head, promising that he’ll be safe. you let him go.

the final moment of affection you got from this tough year was when he was calling you while on the boat to guadeloupe. so obviously, you couldn’t really see him, but you could swear there was a little smile on his face when you pouted about how you couldn’t be there with him. he was explaining stuff about the cross of el derado, his newest little treasure. he always would complain about the pogues stupid treasure hunts, and you wondered why the minute that rafe got involved, it was suddenly the most important thing in the world. so you asked. he answered, saying after a quiet huff of a laugh, “kid, c’mooon. the cross is gonna sell for fuckin’ millions, why wouldn’t i want it?” you understood and ageed. then after a few more minutes, he said “love you” (with a smile that you could hear), and hung up. you didn’t realize that was gonna be the last time that you were gonna talk to him for a month. you would’ve prevented mr. singh from taking him, if you could. but at least you heard his smile before he ghosted everyone.

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |9|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Stabbing, Blood, Fighting

Word Count: 2.5K+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

You stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind you. You couldn’t believe them, you weren’t surprised by Amber, that was actually completely expected, but the others, that hurt. You weren’t the biggest fan of them, they weren’t the biggest fan of you, you didn’t ever think they’d actually think you’d hurt Tara, that you were capable of something like that. 

Mindy was the movie expert, that was her thing, but she didn’t hesitate to back Amber up. The second Amber accused you, Mindy was right there, giving her accusation logic, even if it was all bullshit. Then the others just sat there silently, letting them accuse you, not a single one of them stood up for you, none of them even tried to argue in your defense.

You got to your car, slamming the door closed and aggressively turning the key. You pulled out your phone, quickly calling Tara before peeling out of the driveway. You sped down the street, not bothering to pay attention to how fast you were driving. 

“That was quick,” Tara said, answering after only two rings. 

“I never should have come,” you said, coming to a hard stop at a stop sign. “This was pointless and a mistake,” you hit the gas, speeding down the street again. 

“What?” Tara asked, concern clearly in her voice. “What happened?” 

“They think I’m the fucking killer!” 

“What?” Tara whispered in disbelief. 

“Fucking Amber!” you smacked the steering wheel. You were sure Tara wanted to say something, but she stayed quiet. “No one disagreed! Actually, Mindy, gave them all a fucking reason!” 

“Are you okay?” Tara asked, still as calm as ever. 

“No one defended me,” you whispered. “Not a single one of them. They all just listened to Amber and Mindy. They actually think I’m the fucking killer,” you let out a humorless chuckle. “Even fucking Dewey!” 

“Dewey?” Tara questioned. Tara didn’t know Dewey personally, but you had told her about him. It took some time to open up, but you didn’t have secrets, she knew all about the shit you got up to when you were younger. You told her all about your run ins with Dewey. 

“Guess Sam brought him in for advice,” you shrugged. 

You unclenched your jaw. It wasn’t a bad idea, Dewey used to be the sheriff, he had been involved in all the previous attacks. It made complete and perfect sense that he’d be the best person to bring in. You couldn’t believe he actually questioned you though. After all the years, you figured he’d know you well enough by now. He knew all the shit you got up to, he was the one that always brought you in, he never arrested you though. He was too much of a good guy, you always got a slap on the wrist and a warning. 

You were pretty sure he pitied you. He thought you were some broken, abandoned kid, someone who needed saving. You guessed eventually something stuck because your junior year is when you started to turn everything around. You hadn’t talked to him since the last time, the summer before junior year, you only saw him some nights at the bar, and he’d just give you a little nod, then usually a decent tip when he left. You assumed he saw the progress you made, that you were trying, that you were doing better. Out of everyone, you didn’t think he’d look at you like that, he wouldn’t hesitate to question you. You guessed you really couldn’t trust anyone though, that when it came to Ghostface everyone was the enemy. 

“Every last one of them,” you said, shaking her head. “They all think I’d actually hurt you.” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Tara whispered. “I know you’re not the killer and that you’d never hurt me.” 

You gave a small smile, that’s all that mattered to you. It didn’t matter if her friends, her sister, the police, or the entire fucking world, none of it mattered if they were against you, as long as Tara still believed in you. “Thanks,” you whispered, much calmer than before. “I’m going to stop home, shower,” you looked down, wrinkling your nose, “and change. Then I’ll be right back by your side.” 

“Okay.” You could practically hear Tara smiling through the phone. “See you soon. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Almost as soon as you hung up with Tara you were arriving at your apartment. As soon as you parked you ran into the apartment. Your apartment was small, it was cheap, but you could afford it. The only real downside to the place was that it was across town, meaning you had to shower quick so you could get back to Tara sooner. 

Despite just getting off the phone with her you shot Tara a quick text, telling her you arrived at your place. You unlocked your door, mindlessly tossing your keys onto the coffee table like you always did and kicking the door closed behind you. 

You made your way to the kitchen, tossing your phone on the small kitchen island, and opening the fridge to see it practically empty. You sighed then grabbed a bottle of water. You always told Tara to eat properly, you used to make sure she always had dinner and didn’t rely on snacks, and yet you couldn’t even keep your own fridge stocked. You let the fridge door swing closed, then brought the water bottle to your lips. 

You quickly took the bottle away from your mouth when you heard your phone begin to vibrate, figuring it was probably Tara. You furrowed your brow when you saw it wasn’t Tara but a number you didn’t recognize, with a different area code. Your finger rested over the screen, you knew Ghostface’s thing was calling people, but it wasn’t an unknown number, and it wasn’t Amber, or anyone else you knew, like it had been with both Tara and Sam. You shook your head then quickly tapped the red ignore button. 

You finished off the water and tossed it in the trash. You froze when you heard a slight creak, then you slowly turned around, your eyes scanning across the small room, your keys were still on the coffee table, but your front door was slightly ajar. You grabbed your phone and slowly began inching your way towards the door. You stopped when you passed the small hallway that led to the bathroom and your bedroom, narrowing your eyes but nothing looked out of place, your bedroom door was open, like always. 

You gripped your phone tight as you got closer to the front door. You strained your ears, listening for anything or anyone who might be on the other side. You held your breath as you reached for the door, then you whipped it open, being met with an empty hallway. You peeked your head out, looking left and right, seeing the same dimly lit empty hallway as always. You let out a shaky breath, shaking your head as you closed the door, making sure to lock it this time. You were clearly getting too paranoid. 

 You turned to walk back to the kitchen, but your eyes widened as Ghostface stepped out of the hall, tilting his head as he looked at you. You didn’t even have time to process the fact that Ghostface got into your apartment and hid down the hall while you were just in the kitchen, you heard the door creak yet didn’t hear someone moving through your apartment. 

You backed up, instantly hitting the door. Your hands fumbled, feeling around for the lock but Ghostface was on you before you could unlock the door. You dove out of the way just as Ghostface brought their knife down, impaling it in the door. 

You nearly tripped over the coffee table as you made your way back to the kitchen. There wasn’t much space, so you turned around, putting your back to the sink and cabinets, facing Ghostface head on. Ghostface ripped their knife out of the door, quickly closing the space between the door and the kitchen. You knew your apartment was small, but Ghostface was standing before you in seconds. 

Ghostface swung his knife, which you instantly dodged. You reached across the stove, grabbing a pan, it wasn’t ideal, but you needed something to defend yourself with. Just as quickly as you grabbed the pan, you dropped it when Ghostface brought his knife down, slashing down your arm. 

You lifted your arm up, hissing as you watched the blood pour out of the wound. You put your other hand over the cut, trying to stop the bleeding a bit, if you survived you were sure you would need stitches. You couldn’t focus on your injury too long though because next thing you knew you were ducking, just as Ghostface’s knife swooshed over your head. 

You jumped back as Ghostface swung their knife at your stomach. 

They swiped at you again and again, each time you just barely dodged the knife. 

Ghostface raised their knife high but as they brought the knife down you instinctively raised your hands, catching their arm as they tried to stab you. 

You held their arm back, using all your strength to keep the knife as far away from you as possible. Ghostface used your distraction at trying not to be stabbed to push you back until your back hit the sink. 

Despite being pinned against the sink you continued to fight back. With the two of you pushing back against each other you eventually both fell to the floor. Ghostface ended up on top of you and began pushing the knife further towards your chest. 

You gritted your teeth, ignoring the burning in your arms and the way blood continued to drip from your cut as you kept the knife up with your hands. You began kicking with your feet, hoping to get lucky, you needed just one good kick to get the upper hand. 

You couldn’t get enough force to kick Ghostface hard enough, but you ended up getting your legs tangled up with theirs, allowing you to flip them over. During the sudden change of position Ghostface lost their grip on the knife, allowing you to rip it out of their hand. 

With all your strength you took their knife and began pushing it towards their chest, exactly as they had done to you. You were much more aware of them now that they were underneath you, they were much smaller than you imagined. 

In all the stories, in the interviews, in the movies, in literally anything you had ever seen or heard, Ghostface was always talked up as this large dark figure that loomed over you. You couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was always tall or if the terror and their mere presence made them seem larger. Ghostface always seemed to tower over people, no matter who it was, the victim always seemed small against Ghostface. 

You narrowed your eyes as you stared down at the white mask, you could just barely make out eyes behind the mask. You couldn’t tell who it was, you couldn’t even make out an eye color, but there was a familiarity, you knew the person behind the mask. 

You gritted your teeth, using both hands you shoved the knife down harder. Ghostface was holding you back, both of their hands wrapped around your arms, the one thing preventing you from shoving the knife into their heart. Ghostface suddenly let go with one of their hands, allowing you to push the knife closer to their chest. Out of the corner of your eye you saw them slapping their hand around like they were reaching for something, but you couldn’t pull your focus away from the knife in your hands. You were so close, just a little more and the knife would be in their chest. 

The knife had just touched their cloak, you could feel the blade catching on the fabric. Before the blade could go further and pierce their chest something hard hit you on the side of the head. Your vision suddenly went blurry, you shook your head trying to clear the haziness, then you felt something under you move, Ghostface had wiggled free just enough, allowing them to use all their strength to shoved you, slamming you into the cabinets. 

You blinked a few times, shaking your head slightly, trying to stop the ringing in your ears. Your vision slowly started to clear up, you looked to the side, seeing the frying pan you had been trying to grab when Ghostface first appeared, you figured that must have been what Ghostface smacked you on the head with. 

You were on your hands and knees, trying to recover. The first thing you saw when your vision finally started to clear was black boots. You lifted your head, blinking a few times, when you finally saw clearly you saw Ghostface was already standing tall, waiting to attack again. 

You pushed your hands off the floor and sat there, kneeling in front of Ghostface. They just tilted their head, watching as you tried to stand, your knees wobbling in the process, as if they were about to buckle from under you. Your legs did actually give out, taking you down to one knee, you reached to the side, blindly searching for the counter to grab onto. Ghostface tilted their head to the other side, then without warning they brought their knee up, nailing you in the face, sending you back to the floor and sliding you into the cabinets, again. 

Ghostface began slowly walking towards you, keeping his arm low as he comfortably twisted the knife in his hand. Ghostface stopped in his tracks, his head snapping to the front door. You furrowed your brow, you didn’t hear anything, but your ears were still ringing and everything was blurry once again. 

You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the blurriness. You could just barely make out Ghostface standing over you, twisting their knife in their hands, tilting their head as they looked down at you. They crouched down, staring at you through the empty black eyes of the mask, holding their knife up so you could see it clearly, see your blood from where he had sliced you the first time dripping from the blade. 

“Did you think Samantha was the only one with a family secret?” Ghostface asked, tilting their head, as they gently ran the blade of the knife down the side of your face without cutting you. Despite the voice changer and the mask, you could practically hear the taunting in their voice, you could picture the sadistic smile on their face. 

You scrunched your eyebrows, watching as Ghostface abruptly took the knife away from your face and stood up, looking down at you. You didn’t have time to process what any of that could mean before Ghostface kneed you in the face again. Your head snapped back, hitting the cabinets again, then everything went black. 

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙞 𝙖𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙜𝙪𝙣 ✿

characters: boothill x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, angst/no comfort, spoilers to his character story, reader death, canon typical violence, blood, death, injury description, slavery mention, reader is a galaxy ranger, reader also has burn scars, some mechanical and medical things might be incorrect

notes: i have been spoiling yall too much with the constant fluff and smut. so here throws this fic into your face. divider from @/cafekitsune. a deep thanks to @theblades for helping me find a way to kill reader off😇

word count: 6.2k words

bright sunlight, gentle breeze ruffling through his bi-colored hair and the soft laughter of children. he loved the days spent at the farm, playing hide and seek with his siblings in the corn field, looking after the animals at the farm and taking some out for a walk. if him and his siblings could be sneaky enough, they will be able to snatch a few of graey’s handmade cookies through the kitchen window before dinner time. if not, they’ll get caught red handed, yet be let off the hook with a few soft pinches to their cheeks and one cookie for each since graey was just that soft.

sometimes, him and nick would ride their horses, wilding through the forests and endless fields to lead their cattle to better water and brilliant clouds. nick would sing loudly and proudly — he always does — and soon, he would join in with his young, soft voice pitching out the same song. nick would laugh boisterously, ruffling his hair and knocking off of his hat in the process. he would whine about it, saying things such as his hat getting dirty and being scolded by graey. nick would just laugh and shrug it off with a “sorry kiddo”.

he loved this place. he loved the corn fields he runs through with his siblings, he loved the loud voice of graey yelling out, scolding the kids as they run off laughing like a bunch of menaces, the oldest holding the box of cookies graey keeps on the highest shelf away from them, he loved the guns that nick would pull out from his old box of tools, teaching him how to properly aim and how to shoot the empty cans placed in the distance. and the excited yell of the other kids when he finally manages to knock one down, making him feel giddy as nick congratulated him on his first shot. after he fully mastered the old handgun of nick and shot down all 5 cans in a row, he was rewarded with nick’s old cowboy sheriff medal. the golden, 5 pointed star was old and looked rusty but to little ol’ him, it was the biggest and most treasured gift he ever got.

little ‘loaded gun’ never separated from that medal. he wore it his jacket ever since nick pinned it there for him, proudly showing it off to his siblings and talking about how he will take after nick and graey’s profession in the future. how he promises to nick and graey that he will make them proud, how he will live up to their expectations and become an even better cowboy.

“you sure will, little partner” nick would always laugh and pat his head, re-adjusting the medal. graey would sigh and roll his eyes at nick’s actions before reminding him that he doesn’t have to choose that life if he doesn’t want to. young ‘loaded gun’ would pout, whining that he wants to.

“but i want to be a cowboy! i want to be like you and nick, taking down bad guys, bringing justice and firing big guns!” he would yell, shooting his arms up in the air and jumping around.

“uh-huh. talk about firing big guns after you lose that lisp of yours” graey would chime in, always quick to reprimand him for his missing tooth and lisp as his hands affectionately smoothen out his messy hair, groaning in defeat as the mess of black and white refuse to be tamed.

“but i already lost it! i’m a big boy now!”

“hey graey! am i a big boy capable of firing big guns now?” were the first words he said as he brought back his first successful bounty. the smell of gunpowder and ash clung heavy to his jacket but he didn’t care. the smaller kids ran up to his sides, asking for upsies while his siblings who had already grown up and decided to stay at the farm pat his back and ruffle his hair with affectionate teasing quips.

he did it. he held his promise and followed in the footsteps of graey and nick, the old rusty gun and the sheriff medal being a motivational tool for him to reach his goal. now, all grown up and a master trickshot amongst the cowboys of aeragan-epharshel, ‘loaded gun’ was ready to aim and fire at anyone who dares to harm the innocents. although it had been years since the last time he saw his parents and siblings, everything about them and the old red barn stayed the same. though, the corn field looked a little bit bigger than he remembered.

‘loaded gun’ had done a lot in his life since becoming a cowboy. from fighting bandits in the dusty fields, chasing thieves at the dangerous cliffsides to having a gun fight against rival gangs. there were many times he had narrowly escaped death, breathed nothing but the metallic scent of blood, death and bullets and he still prevailed. although he had lost friends along this deadly road, he had also gained many.

that night, ‘loaded gun’ sat across his parents, seated amongst his siblings as he recalled tales of his adventures. the warmth of his younger siblings’ hugs, the teasing quips of the elders’ back pats and the proud looks nick and graey gave him — he was sure of it; this place was where he was the most happiest.

so when he found a little figure, wrapped in a measly ragtag of a fabric, crying out and lonely, he knew he had to step in and take in the little one. it’s what was right and what graey and nick would have done. a small bundle, not even a month old was left to fend for herself. ‘loaded gun’ carefully cradled the baby close to his chest, trying his best to soothe her cries as much as he could.

“graey! nick! i need some help here!” and ‘loaded gun’ had become a father.

ever since becoming a father, ‘loaded gun’ has experienced everything that parenthood had to offer. sleepless nights of the baby wailing at an ungodly hour, searching for his comfort and warmth. having to change the baby’s diapers and bathe her. checking the temperature of the milk in the bottle before feeding time — everything parenthood brought him, he took it all in strides and jolly laughs.

sometimes, he would put the baby in a small bucket and take her out on the farm with himself. the little baby would laugh and clap her tiny hand together, big bright eyes unknowing of what was happening as ‘loaded gun’ fails to tame a wild stallion, proceeding to get his ass thrown off of the horse’s back. seeing his little girl so happy, how could he ever stop making a fool of himself? he even went far as to carve out a mini guitar for her after seeing her fascination with his old, weathered one.

“from now on, yer name will be clementine. can’t have my little girl going around without a name, right?” he asks, bringing up the white haired girl into his arms and raising her into the air. clementine only giggles, blabbering some stuff as she laughs at the feeling of being in the air. seeing the baby’s innocent wide eyes staring down at him, head haloed by the high sun, ‘loaded gun’s grey ones soften as a teary smile forms on his face. the scars on his hands remind him of his profession and dangers of being a cowboy, but in his heart, he swore that he will keep his little girl safe and to be the best father he can be.

“my little clementine…”

gone... it was all gone.

the corn fields where he used to run through with his siblings when they were young, the old red farm that was in the middle of being repainted, the comfortable warm yet dingy house that him and his family used to live in — it was all gone. the scent of sulfur and burnt bodies hung in the air, ash raining from high above like it was some sort of a rain, turning his already dirtied and burnt clothes into black. there was no sign of nick, graey, his siblings nor the panicked farm animals.

little clementine... where was she? aeons, you can do anything you want to him but please spare his little girl, please by some blind miracle, let little clem be alive. he won't care what he has to do or which burning log he has to push away with his bare hands, just let him hear the sound of his little girl's cries to let him know that she's still alive and he'll do it. he'll do anything to save his little girl.

running through the scorched earth, 'loaded gun' calls out for his family. nick, graey, his siblings and even by their childhood nicknames. clementine, where was clementine, where was his baby girl? his little girl, where—

small red scarf and a burnt mini guitar. that was all he had managed to dig out from the burning farm house of his home. that was all he had left of his little girl, the red scarf that was the same copy of his own and the hand carved guitar with its strings plucked due to the heat of the bomb. those two things were the only things he brought with himself as he travels through the vast galaxies, searching a certain doctor who had made themselves into a cyborg successfully.

on the kingdom of bandits, talia, did he found the doctor. heart heavy, eyes full of vengeance and burnt hands holding onto the strap of his bag that had his little girl's memoirs. the doctor tried to persuade him into thinking over his decisions again, to woo him into staying as a human and not to lose said humanity. but 'loaded gun' was steadfast in his decision. if he wanted to stay as a human, he would have already thrown his body into the fires that engulfed his home.

with a deep sigh and slight reluctance, the doctor fulfilled his wishes. blue colored blood being pumped into his new metal body, no longer warm, scarred flesh but rather a clean plated metal being wired into place. at least his head was kept intact. after everything was over and he regained consciousness, he simply thanks the doctor and leaves his payment on the operation table full of his former human blood mixed with his new cyborg blue ones. he didn't wanted to look at the walls or the floor — it was covered in filthy purple liquids.

"before you leave, will you at least tell me your name?"

"... it's boothill now"

"well, good luck with your hunt mr.boothill"

it has been... how long now? boothill doesn't know. since his 'rebirth' as boothill, he has spent so much time traveling from one world to the other, destroying one ipc ship to the next. it has been a bit too long in his opinion, as the destruction of his home planet has stopped being brought up as the latest hot topic at every bar or saloon he visits. or maybe they never talked about it to begin with. the ipc had friends and slaves everywhere, at every branch or organization or world, boothill wouldn't be surprised if they had ended up covering their filthy work by masking it as an another 'horrific accident that befell a poor world before we could save them' type of thing. the ipc were amazing at their manipulation after all.

"those ipc folk sure have been having some hard time since your sudden emergence huh, cowboy?" a voice rings out to his left, a body covered in a bright red coat sitting down beside him at the bar. gesturing to the bartender, he watches from the corner of his eyes as you order a glass of earl grey and marmalade cooler with extra ice. boothill doesn't know this stranger draped in red was nor did he care. but judging by the way you easily knew of him as the latest troublemaker against the ipc, you have probably heard of the bounty on his head or you just travel the galaxies a lot. or it could be both at the same time.

turning his head just a little bit more towards the side, he looks you up and down, trying to see if there are anything that makes you stand out in any form of way. anything to hint at what or who you were.

old, faded, long, red coat left open at the front, smart by the way you have easily deduced he was a cowboy by just his accessories and clothing alone and ordering anon-alcoholic drink despite having set foot inside a bar and took a seat beside him. he can't see any weapons on your body at the moment and your red coat was covering most of your body too. he'll just have to go in blindly then.

"done checking me out, cowboy?"

by the time he had finished assessing you and had looked up to see your face, you were already staring at him with a nonchalant smirk on your face. for some odd reason, boothill could feel his cheeks heat up and wires zap inside his metal body. there was just something about the way that you easily teased him and wasn't ashamed to hold an eye contact with his target shaped pupils that got him feeling weirdly self conscious. had he forgotten to shine the metal plates of his body today? was his revolver still in place, shiny and strong? what about his bullets? his hat? his hair? oh what if he smelled? can cyborg bodies have any odor to begin with—?

"come on now, don't look away from me. i was talking to you" he could hear you coo out, your hand coming up to turn his chin so you could look at his face. the warmth of your hand touching the only leftover human part of his, the laidback confidence you had in your own self, it all got boothill letting out a steam from his ears like a cartoon character as he quickly turns away from you, his hand pulling down his hat to save whatever tiny drops of image he had.

what a shame, turning into a flustered mess like a high school girl talking to her crush by just the smallest amount of flirting he received. where was his class? his sarcastic remarks? the sassy quips and bites he gives to those who touched him? his tongue felt heavy, cheeks felt like they were on fire and he could just hear the gears inside his body shifting and turning at an uncomfortably fast pace that made him feel like he was overheating. or maybe he truly was overheating. darn, he should visit the doctor again to get some certain things removed.

"a-ahem, didn't yer' parents teach you it's not okay to flirt with strangers at a bar?" curse him for stuttering over his words, he was supposed to appear cool not like a teenager boy dammit! and the way your lips curled upwards even more at the tripping of his words wasn't helping. well he'll be damned, you have a smile that cowboys would kill each other for.

"i'm [name], a galaxy ranger. and you are, dear cowboy?"

idiot cowboys like him would kill each other for.

"name's boothill, sugar"

it has been exactly 2 years and 4 months since boothill first met you and was introduced to a faction called the galaxy rangers. apparently, galaxy rangers are a voluntarily formed group that follows the teachings of lan, the hunt and carries out acts of service, upholding peace and justice. some galaxy rangers are a bit ruthless in the ways they deal with the injustice that happens at some worlds or galaxies, some are a bit more diplomatic, some travel in groups of friends and colleagues while some travel alone.

you were once the latter one; a galaxy ranger that travelled the cosmos alone, a bright red shooting star that shine and never fade till the break of day, bringing hope and destruction at once. were; because it has been precisely 2 years and 4 months since boothill has started to travel alongside you. he had decided to become a galaxy ranger, the voluntary group's ideals appealing to his own sense of vengeance and justice that he wishes to bring to a certain group.

"boothill, it's time to wake up" you call out, having always been the early morning bird out of the two of you. walking towards the bedside of the asleep cowboy, you poke at his eyebrows and nose, pushing his lips into random emotes, snorting at the slight hint of drool on his lips. despite having an all metal body, the cyborg was still very human at heart. you've seen the way he helps the elderly cross the roads, entertaining the kids of your stop of the day by teaching them how to properly hold a gun or to shoot one, how he pets a stray dog or a cat, how he sits down at the bar with you after a successful mission, a guitar in hand as he starts to sing in an unfamiliar language. how he looked sad as he regularly cleans the sheriff medal on his jacket, how he stares at a certain picture that he keeps in his jacket pocket.

or even the ways he calls out to a little girl with white hair, addressing her as "clementine", before apologizing and patting the girl on the head to say "be careful, kid". you've seen it all, or what you like to think of as all of boothill.

"fuck meeee, it's still early dawn sugar" the cowboy groans out, voice groggy due to his voice bank having been on resting mode and just restarted. reaching an arm out, he manages to grab a hold of the back of your shirt before you could escape, pulling you down onto his bed as you let out a shriek. grunting at your flailing limbs and attempts to escape his clutch, he only tightens them, climbing on top of you with a cheshire grin on his face.

"that's what ya' get for trynna wake up a cowboy, sugar. ya' get put in time-out" boothill grins at the red of your cheeks from laughing too much, a surprising flare of cuteness aggression coming over him as he leans over your face to gnaw at your cheeks with his shark-like teeth.

"on-nom nom nom nom nom, i'm gonna eat up yer' mochi cheeks, sugar!" the cyborg says, making an overdramatic munching noises as he gnaws the sharp edges of his teeth over the soft fat of your cheek. you could only laugh, throwing your legs back and forth as you try to escape his hold.

"boothill! you're a whole damn 700 kilogram of pure metal alone, get off of me!" you shriek out when the mischievous cowboy starts to gnaw on the skin of your neck and chin, akin to a baby kitten throwing a temper tantrum. as if to spite you, he only rolls his body over yours more, squishing you flat down onto the bed with a menacing laugh.

it was usual to start the day like this between you and boothill. he was not a morning person, you were and usually you would have to end up paying for being the early bird as he squishes your body flush against his own metal one. sometimes you two would end up just falling back asleep, with you being held hostage in boothill's grasp and boothill comfortably squeezing his face into your body. sometimes, you two would end up like this, just laughing and having a harmless prank time together. other times, you two end up with a bunch of ruined pillows, the feathers dancing in the air as you try to get at least a hit on him. but somehow, boothill was always better than you when it came to pillow fights.

"now what happened 'ere, sugar?" you could hear boothill ask, finally managing to get a deep breath in as he finally lifts away some of the weight he had on you. a cold, hard metal tenderly ghosts over where your neck and shoulder met, over the old burn scar you had. oh right, you forgot of that little fella there.

"ah, that. it's just some old burn wound from one of my earlier days as a galaxy ranger. there's nothing to worry about, don't worry" you hum, bringing a hand up to run through his mess of a bi-colored hair. his hair was always a mess no matter the circumstances, it was honestly a wonder how he doesn't have urges to cut his hair short. not like you were complaining, the long hair suited him perfectly and you wouldn't want him to change his looks.

as you lay there on the hotel bed, looking up at the ceiling, thinking over where to go next or what route you two should take during this next new mission of yours, boothill was busy remembering an old memory. an old memory that he wished to forget so vehemently.

red and orange — that was all he could smell all around him. the burnt down farm that was in the middle process of being renovated, the burnt carcasses — it wouldn't be right to call them carcasses, there was nothing much left remaining to even properly call them as that — the corn fields burning down. sulfur and death — that was all 'loaded gun' could smell as he dug into his burning home. the heat that scorched his face or licked away at the skin of his hand didn't bother him. all he wanted to do was to find his daughter, his little girl, his little clementine. please, let her be alive by some miracl—

"boothill?" your voice echoed in his head, snapping him back from the dreaded memory lane he accidentally made a trip down towards. looking up at your face, he could see the furrowing of [c] brows over your [c] eyes as they stared at him with so much concern, affection, wonder and care. he takes in the details of your face as his breath gets stolen, seeing the way the [c] locks circled around your head as you reflected the perfect image of what he thinks aeons looks like. by the mighty aeons, you were gorgeous. and how his breath is found once again as you run a hand through his hair, blunt nails lightly scratching at his scalp. you stole his breath away as easily as breathing it back into him.

leaning close into you, he felt the way your breaths mingled with his own, how if he were to try and reach out, he could feel your body heat against his only remaining body like an anchor, like a long awaited lover returning home. there was warmth in your eyes that was missing in his cold, metal body. humane marks that was reflected onto his own vibranium plates that tried to imitate human flesh. there was humanity in you that boothill feared he lacked in himself.

"[name]... i want to taste your lips" boothill breathed out before he could even catch whether he was imagining his words or was outright saying it. and he did get what he politely asked for, your split lips connecting with his own intact ones. he tasted life that he was sure that he had lost on your lips, a memory of something old and tender that had been burned away in the fires that scorched his home and your body. he felt something move and beat rhythmically within the confines of his gears and wires, convinced that he had somehow, by some way regained his heart. regained his human body. regained his humanity.

you breathed life into him and he found himself asking for one more when your lips left his own, and one more, and one more. and one more.

"boothill, when was the last time that you went to the doctor to have your body checked over?" you say, turning your attention away from sharpening your sword to his body. even from such distance, you could see some screws getting a bit looser, some little wires or the ends of wires peeking out from behind the plates of his body. from what you could remember, the last time your partner had told you of going to the doctor to have himself checked over was... perhaps a year ago.

as galaxy rangers, you two now constantly get into fights and battles. especially with the ipc as the corporation has added you to their list of wanted figures besides boothill's growing dead or alive bounty. in an order to be ready for any ambush or unplanned fights that may take place, you and your partner must be ready for any sort of fight that may come your way. which also means making a trip to the kingdom of bandits and thieves, talia, a bit often to see the doctor.

something that boothill insists doesn't have to be done after every fight or to have you follow him. the cyborg insists that it's for your own safety but you know that he just doesn't want you to see him being taken apart and put back together again like... like he has lost his own sense of self. despite his flair and bright smiles, you always knew that boothill had a deep sense of problem with his body. you know, since you were always the one to collect his breaking consciousness into your awaiting warm arms to place him back together again. peace by loving peace, you were akin to a warm candlelight that soothed his worries and shooed away any fears that might dig its claws into his wires.

"uhhh... dunno sugar. maybe a year? or even over a year ago..." the cowboy replies, looking up from his own weapon that he was cleaning. seeing your eyes narrow at him and shoulders become stiff, boothill quickly places down his revolver, waving his hands as a form of self defense from your already approaching lecture.

"h-hey hey hey! but don't worry, i'm genuinely doing fine, sugar! if anything, it should be nagging you for not resting and properly taking care of that shoulder wound!" the cyborg was quick to defend himself, instead pointing a finger towards your direction. more specifically, your shoulder.

"it's just a small cut, boothill! i've already gotten it cleaned and wrapped in bandages" you raised your arms in a surrendering motion, now taking on the side to defend yourself from his words.

just as boothill was about to retort back with something smart-mouthed, you two suddenly fall silent as the familiar sound of the heels of an eerily familiar corporation uniform resounds in the hallway boards of the inn. those footsteps and the light click! clack! of their weapons told you two everything you needed to know. silently, boothill puts on his hat, reloading his revolver at a terrifyingly fast pace. meanwhile, you shrug on your signature red coat, newly sharpened and cleaned blade ready to slice through the ipc's weapons.

waiting patiently behind the doors of your inn room, you two wait with bated breaths until a very quick clicking of the door opening is heard. before the door could even creak open on its old hinges, boothill has already taken the first shot. without needing for words to talk about tactics or which side to take, you rush out, the sharp edge of your blade cutting through the ipc's every weapons. behind you the sound of gunshots and bodies hitting the floor follows.

it was simple, really. you disarm the ipc and boothill takes care of the rest. surrounded at all sides? you will always take the east side while boothill takes care of the ones on the west. and if there's a ew weapon or a surprise in your way, boothill will just blast it high into the sky with his arm canon and you can make the rest of them into thin noodles at record time. a deadly duo you two were, gutsy as you stood against the ipc in its whole with no fear, only excitement at what new weapon you'll come across or who could get more hits in. perhaps that's precisely why the ipc decided to send battalion after battalion after you two this time. perhaps it was the bounties on your head that caused the inn owner to betray your trust and rat you two out.

either way, nothing could exactly stop in your way. weapons cut, guns exploded due to bullets meeting inside the hole, armories torn apart and ipc managers blasted. there was nothing that could stand against a hurricane of two galaxy rangers. a red coat flashing past the ipc, a grey shine that took down a panicking soldier standing kilometers away. but there was a little problem. boothill's loose wires had connected with the wrong ones, causing him to stay in his lock 'n loaded state. target shaped pupils now bright red with the grey of his irises now bright red that perceived all those with a weapon as an enemy.

after the final ipc manager fell apart in a heap of metal and wires, you heard the sound of a gunshot still being fired towards the west. was boothill ambushed? was he okay? rushing over to where the sound is the loudest at, you couldn't help but gawk at the state of the corpses and remains of some of the robots. the large gaping holes were not normal, if anything it looked more like a canon bullet with how the entry holes were bigger and the exit holes were smaller. why was boothill using his arm canon at every chance he got? what was happening?

"boothi-!" a bang rings out just as you make it to where the gunshot was the loudest, bullet wizzing past your ear, nipping at the shell of it. the wound left ringing in your ear as you hold up a hand to cover the injured ear, looking on in fear as the red iris and white pupils of your partner looks straight back at you. you could see your own reflection in his eyes and boothill didn't look happy to see you.

eyes that used to stare at you with fondness and sea of affection now stared dead into your own pupils as if you were an enemy. a threat.

"whatcha' lookin' at, scum? come on, let's see ya' dance" this was not your boothill, this wasn't your beloved, this wasn't the same sweetheart whose eyes turn into heart shapes every time your own gaze meets his. this was not boothill.

dodging a bullet by a mere graze, you duck behind an overturned table. shit, think [name], how do you get him out of that state? you briefly remember him telling you that he briefly goes into lock 'n loaded state when he has a stand-off duel. but what more? he was locked in that state of his, ready to kill anyone that comes close. do you have to duel with him to make him snap out of it? but you don't know how to shoot a gun.

but... what if it doesn't have to be a gun duel?

"hey!" you call out, sliding on the floor to hide behind another chair that was flipped over when the canon bullet of boothill shoots through your old coverage with no mercy. "how about a duel, cowboy? you think you can be a faster draw than me?" you can hear his gun click, knowing that now he needs at least a few seconds to reload. maybe 5 seconds at best, boothill was fast in his reloading. you hear a soft scoff as you hear his gun open, the soft clanks of his bullet entering the cylinder resounding in the empty room. one, two, three -- all six bullets in and the soft clink of the hammer of his revolver releasing indicated that boothill was ready for a draw.

"hah, what do you think, sweet cheeks? think you can keep up with me?" you can just hear the taunting in his voice, goading you to make the first move. deep breath in and out, your hand holding the sheath of your sword, ready to draw. silence takes over the room as you speedrun any plans or ideas to catch him off guard. any idea to make him snap out of it. you can be the faster draw but that won't promise you a win if your life is going to be lost.

a steady hand is what you need. just a steady hand to knock some sense back into boohtill... a steady hand to knock some sense.

"come on, fucker. what's taking ya'—" the table he thought you were hiding behind is abruptly flipped over towards boothill, taking him by a sliver of surprise before he aims and pulls the trigger. once, twice and the table was split into half. a chair was next, a single explosive bullet causing the woods to splinter and cover your form as you dash through the room, straight at him.

"'atta you fuckhead! packing some guts, i see!" boothill laughs, aiming straight at your head and pulling the trigger. the bullet doesn't hit, you managed to draw your sword in time to cut it in half. a grin matching the sense of a maniac high spread across boothill's face at the clinking of the two bullet pieces hitting the floor. all you had on mind was to get near him at this moment, nothing else. another bullet is fired, getting cut apart in the middle before his revolver joins, being split apart by your expert swordsmanship.

close enough, you can do it, you can snap him back into his senses.

the sound of broken revolver and dulled blade hitting the floor is disregarded the moment you lean in close to him, hand raised, fist reared back, ready to knock some sense into him. at the same time, boothill's left arm raises towards your abdomen. time seemed to slow and all you had in mind was to deliver a sharp knuckle sandwich.

BANG! CRACK!

your sharp punch landed straight across his face, making his hat drop to the ground. if this was any other bar fight, you would have laughed in his face as you witness his red iris turn grey again, paired with the signature marksman symbol pupils. you did it, your plan worked and boothill was back. when you wanted to point at his face and scold his ears off, all you managed was a weak wheeze. strange...

the world spun around you, the horrified face of boothill catching your attention alongside the sharp pain at your side. you didn't even knew that you fell to the ground as boothill cradles you up into his arms, holding you like how he always does as his metallic fingers gently hold your cheek. his mouth was moving, bi-colored hair falling like a curtain over you two as if to keep this moment hidden from the prying eyes of the corpses in the room.

what was he saying? there was a permanent ringing in your ears and you couldn't be more annoyed about the timing of something more than now. you wanted to listen to his voice, the gentle rasp as he apologized for now listening to you, the hidden tenderness as he calls you an idiot for getting too close to him. breathing became harder for you, black dots appearing in your vision, hindering you from seeing the way boothill was desperately holding you tight against his body. you must have hit your head pretty heard when you fell.

"... i told you... to have yourself checked o.. ver..." you barely manage to say, your voice dying in your throat as you try to talk to him. shaking hand comes up to cradle his cheek, trying to wipe away the tears that streaming from his grey eyes. why was your hand bloodied? it left stains on your dear boothill's cheeks and he will surely complain about it as he tries to wipe it away with his own metallic ones like a cat. you felt cold from the inside, you couldn't move your legs and even holding up your hand felt like a chore.

perhaps a nice rest will help you relax and gain your strength back. and when you wake up again, you will be back in the inn's room, your favorite cowboy by your side, clinging to you like a lifeline as he snores open-mouthed, wiping his drool all over your shirt. when you wake up again, your favorite cowboy won't be covered in blood. when you wake up again, there won't be this annoying sharp sting at your side that felt like your whole intestines were spilling out.

"sugar...? sugar, no, don't close your eyes! [name] wake up!" boothill yells, shaking your bloodied body as he tries to make you regain consciousness. you can hit him all you like, put pink ribbons in his hair, steal his hat, scold him for all you want, just please don't close your eyes. please don't fall asleep. please, don't leave him alone.

"... i'll get lost again if you leave me..." there was no pulse. your body was cold already. and the cyborg wished he could cry again. at least one last time.

[cevansbrat0007]

Sweet Tooth

Summary: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. Be sure to check out the follow-up drabble, Sweet Tooth Deluxe!

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Arch Nemesis', Dominant Ari, Aprons, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Pussy spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @honeygngergemini. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari leans back in his chair, one long leg coming to rest atop his knee as he levels a hard look at Officer Milton Foster. He scrubs a tired hand over his face, his mind working overtime to process what the young man had just said.

“But that makes zero fucking sense.” He grumbles, groaning when he sees Milton just shake his head.

“Aye, man.” The dark-haired deputy  throws up his hands. “You asked me where I thought you went wrong and I told you.” He turns in his office chair to spare a quick glance at his computer. “Do not shoot the messenger.”

“No one’s being shot, alright? I just don’t get the logic behind any of the shit you just said.”

Couple that with the fact that you’d been icing him out for the past several days for reasons unbeknownst to him – which had left him in a god awful mood. He missed you. Your laugh, your warmth, your smile. 

All of it.

Not to mention that deliciously curvy body that had been keeping him warm at night. He really missed that. More than than anything he needed a fucking kiss.

But you were ignoring him. And Ari had discovered pretty quickly that he didn’t like any of it. Not one bit.

So, he’d turned to what he felt like was his only ally in this god-forsaken town: the newly minted sheriff’s deputy, Milton Foster.

“So you’re really trying to tell me that the reason my woman is pissed at me is because I ate Charline Marshall’s pecan pie at the town potluck, liked it, and asked for seconds.” Ari smooths an annoyed hand over his bearded face. Trying to understand Bell’s Creek’s local politics could really do a number on a person. 

“And don’t forget that she purposely dropped your lady’s bramble berry pie on the ground.” Milton does a quick spin in his chair. “She tried to pretend it was an accident, but most of us know better. Charline Marshall has eyes for you and I think she might be ready to make it known.”

“I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t even pick that woman out of a lineup.”  

Milton simply shrugs before taking another spin in his desk chair. “You’ve got a lot of admirers, Mr. Bounty Hunter. A man like you blows into town…well, you’re downright exotic. Every single red-blooded woman under 75 wants a taste.”

Ari visibly shudders before crossing his legs at the ankle. He didn’t want anyone else. This particularly surly Bounty Hunter wanted you. He only wanted to eat your food. Enjoy your sweets. Fall to his knees and devour the fuck out of your pretty little pussy.

“Hard pass, buddy.” Your lawman sighs. “I didn’t know shit about the pie incident. I mean, how could I when she was barely talking to me or anyone at that party?”

“Not saying it’s your fault, big guy. Logically, what would you have been able to do if she had told you?”

Ari looks up at him, his piercing blue gaze never once leaving the young deputy’s. “I would’ve taken her back to my place and spent the rest of the night making her feel better. I would’ve done everything in my power to take my girl’s mind off that petty shit.”

“Mmm.” Milton murmurs as understanding suddenly dawns. “I really don’t wanna get too deep in your business, but your lady is like a sister to me.” He leans back in his chair so that he can kick his feet up on his desk. “We used to play on the playground together as kids. And full disclosure, she used to beat my ass.” The deputy chuckles as he begins to recount all the way you used to be a tiny force of nature. 

“I…can see that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Anyway, I think your original plan was a good one.” 

“Meaning?” Ari leans over to take a sip of his now cold coffee. It tasted like shit anyway, even when it was hot. In fact he longed for you, his BIrd, to make him one of your little caffeine-infused concoctions – preferably while wearing nothing but his shirt. 

So he could also take a bite out of that luscious ass while you refreshed his mug. After all, he was a man who prided himself on his ability to multitask. 

“Meaning, you need to find a way to distract her while making your point.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re a smart fuckin’ guy who set his sights on someone who could easily be the most stubborn woman in the whole damned state.” A smirking Milton offers up a salute with his can of Dr. Pepper. “That’s for you to figure out. All I can do at this point is wish you luck.” 

“Thanks.” Ari grunts, wishing that he had a better idea of what to do with you.

Oh, rest assured that he’d figure it out. You were too important to him not to. He just hoped you’d find it in your heart to take it easy on him for his mistake. 

The Next Day

You wake up to the smell of cooking sausage wafting into your room. It makes you smile as you stretch your arms over your head. Your stomach growls in agreement, subtly reminding you that you’d neglected to make dinner last night. 

Oops. You hadn’t meant to forget, it had just happened. Normally you would end your night with speaking to your Beast of a Bounty Hunter, who always made sure you ate. But lately, you have been both mad at him and embarrassed.   

Because at a recent town potluck, Ari had eaten your rival’s pecan pie. Now, you weren’t children, but this had also been after she’d purposely sabotaged your own dessert by accidentally dropping it on the ground. 

Charline pretended that it had been a mistake. But the way you’d witnessed her laugh after the fact. And then she’d fed your man, reveling in every minute. You’d known her pecan pie was dry, but Ari had seemed to enjoy it. So much so that he’d asked for a second piece. 

Which was fine, except it had hurt your feelings. And you hadn’t been sure how to relay exactly relay that fact either. So you’d clamped down. You’d bottled up. 

And as a result, your poor, sweet man was suffering. Which meant you needed to apologize. But you weren’t quite sure how to go about it. As you sit up, you vow to yourself to give him a call today. As soon as you sat down and enjoyed your breakfast.

And then it occurs to you. You weren’t the one cooking. Which meant someone was in your house. 

You spring out of bed and grab your Louisville Slugger that you always kept nearby. Taking a deep breath, you quietly make your way down the stairs, your trusty bat poised to take a swing at whatever moron who’d chosen to take up residence in your kitchen.

Baring your teeth, you crest around the corner on bare feet, ready to make your presence known. 

“You gonna hit me, Bird?” Ari muses as he adds a dash of salt, followed by pepper to whatever it is he’s got cooking in the skillet. Your flippin' skillet. “Is that really how this ends? You take me out while I’m being kind enough to whip us up some breakfast?”

Momentarily flummoxed you find yourself lowering your weapon in favor of taking in the scene before you. This man – your Bounty Hunter – was currently standing in your kitchen clad in nothing but an apron. 

Your apron. And yet somehow it fit him better

“Wh–what are you doing?” You ask him, letting your baseball bat clatter to the floor at your feet. You wouldn’t need it. You were safe with this man, but only to a point. “And how’d you get in?” You hadn’t given him a key yet. 

That was supposed to be a present for later. 

“Eh.” Ari shrugs, flipping a pancake with surprising skill. “Maybe I saw my gift and swiped it after the potluck. Maybe you weren’t listening to me and I couldn’t get a read on you, so I had to be an asshole and make an executive decision.” He turns away from you to drop a finished pancake on a plate, giving you a fantastic view of his perfectly muscled ass.

“You mad?” 

“N-no.” You respond as you feel your thighs clench. God, how you wished that you’d come down here wearing pants. “I was actually planning to reach out to you today. Can I ask what you’re doing?” You shiver as you feel your thighs grow damp, your traitorous pussy working against you. 

You should be mad that your Beast had broken into your house. Instead you were happy to see him with a much deserved apology ready to fall from your lips. 

“Making you breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and sausage.” He adds another delicious pancake to the stack. “I’m gonna feed you, and then I’m gonna fuck you, and make you rethink ever ignoring me again.” He purrs, the intoxicating rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest. 

Fuck you were so wet it was almost embarrasing. 

“I’ve earned the rights to that tight little pussy, baby. And when I make a mistake like I did with that goddamned Charline, I want you to tell me.” Ari turns off the range, pulling the food off the heat and onto a plate.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, both hating and loving the way your nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirts. Actually, it was one of his. A detail he also seemed to notice. “How can I make it up to you?”

Ari studies you for a moment, his handsome face tilting to the side. And then your eyes stray to the sight of his impressive erection. You watch as one of his big hands reaches down to fist his hard cock, pumping it once. Twice. 

“You can start by going back upstairs. I want you naked, on all fours. I want to come up there and feast my eyes on your soaking wet cunt.” His heated gaze bores into your own, making your already drenched core spasm one more. “And you’d better be wet for me, otherwise I’m gonna spank it. And you.” 

“O-okay.” You find yourself taking a step back, your hand clutching at the wall. 

“I’m gonna eat it baby.” Ari growls, his voice filled with a mix of unbridled lust and determination. “I’m gonna make that pussy fucking cry. And you’re gonna fucking take it. You hear me?”

“Yes.” You whisper, resisting the urge to reach down as you stroke your eager fingers over your throbbing clit. “Yes, Sir.”

He takes a menacing step towards you, his body delighting in the way that you shiver. You’d been bad. Which means it was time to pay the price. And what better man to exact that payment than your own handsome, 6”4 Beast? 

“And then I’m gonna fuck you in front of that brand new mirror I bought you. I’m gonna show you who owns that beautiful body and remind you why it’s important to talk to me when you need me.” Another menacing step. “And then I’m gonna feed those delectable curves after I’ve had my fill.”

“And then…” He tilts his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “You’re gonna let me kiss it all better while I make love to you.”

“Y-yes, please.” Right now you were willing to give this man whatever he wanted. Whatever helped you atone for your supposed sins.

“There’s a good girl.” He intones as he unties the apron, leaving him naked and aroused in your simple kitchen. “Now run.”

END

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[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℱ𝓊𝑔𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓋ℯ𝓈

req: for cowboy!jj, I imagined something like reader and him having to host john b for a while (fugitive perhaps?) and since then, they can't have a moment together (I don't know if you see what I mean) I find it amusing then bromance or romance? (Jj must make a choice)

req by @nemesyaaa

Warnings: Suggestive ending, jealousy :3

“Okay, warning, she is a little…” JJ started, standing in front of the door.

“Just say it.” John B sighed.

“Hesitant about this whole hostin’ thing.” He tilted his head to the side, and opened up the door.

“Y/n?” He called out, hanging his hat up on a rack, and motioning for John B to do the same. You came into his vision, eyes widening at what you saw.

The man that the police had put up posters of was in your living room. He was considered “armed and dangerous.” But he looked like neither. He peeked out from behind JJ, clearly hesitating to be inside your home.

“H- hi.” You gave him a little wave, JJ wrapped his arms around you, hugging you and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“He’s fine, honey. He ain’t gonna do nothing.” He told you quietly, stepping away from you.

“I uh- fixed up a spare room.” You motioned to the room on the side.

“Thank you, ma’am.” John B nodded, following JJ to the room.

Now JJ had always been the best husband you could ask for. He supported you in your dreams and decisions, even when it went against a bunch of the towns norms, he was the sweetest, most caring man you could get.

His flaw? He was an outlaw, and tended to get into business with the wrong people.

JJ came back out the room, letting John B get settled in.

“How long did you say was he gonna be here again?” You asked JJ.

“However long it takes to get the sheriff off his back. But you don’t gotta worry about him, swear.”

After a few days, you got used to the man. He was kind, always thankful. You didn’t have to worry about him. At least not in the way you thought you would.

JJ had spent every living moment with John B. More than you, you felt like. Were you jealous? Nope. Absolutely not. Maybe a little…

You pretended to not care, acting like it was fine.

You both sat on the porch, finally getting a moment to yourselves. He sat with his head in your lap, your hands running through his hair, that was until the door opened and he jolted away, looking over to John B.

“Hey, dude!” JJ cheered, you huffed and just leaned back, watching them talk, John B sitting next to him. You played with the hem of your shirt, letting out quiet sighs, hoping JJ would pick up on your feelings. He didn’t.

It was that night in bed, when he said goodnight to John B and went under the covers, that you asked him.

“Are you in love with him or something?”

“What? No.” He laughed at you. “What’s this about, baby?”

“It’s just..” you huffed again. “I feel like since he’s been here, all you’ve been doing is talking with him. I don’t wanna be that jealous annoying wife but..”

He smiled, finding your jealousy amusing.

“He’s my best friend. Sorry if you feel like that, but I ain’t trying to ignore you.”

“It feels like you are.” You muttered, pulling the covers over you, turning away.

“Aw. C’mere, sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around you, his front facing your back. “I love ya. You know that. No need to feel jealous.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing a kiss onto your skin.

“I know.” You murmured. “Love you too.”

“You’re so cute. Gettin’ jealous over everything and anything. I like it. It’s hot.” He spoke against your skin, his talking muffled slightly.

“Oh, yeah?” You asked, turning to face him with a quirked brow.

“Hell yeah.” He smiled, both of you going underneath the covers.

[nickfowlerrr]

long way home

GIF by lilacevans

pairing: dark!lee bodecker x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY. cnc smut. spanking. unprotected sex. use of the word ‘daddy’ but not pertaining to lee. fluffy ending!

words: 4.7k

notes: truly cannot believe i finally finished this lol. this is as self indulgent as ever but hey that’s the way fanfic should be imo. 😌 anyway! thank you in advance for reading, and i hope you enjoy!

comments and reblogs always welcome and always appreciated. 🫶🏻

The sirens that start sounding just moments after you pass the curve of the desolate road have your heart lurching and stomach dropping.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you mutter pathetically as you try to take a deep calming breath.

You signal you’re going to pull over and the sheriff’s car follows behind you.

It’s late and there aren’t any other cars around as the sun sets on the horizon. It’s nearly 90° out, cooler than the day had been earlier, but the heat is still suffocating. You can’t fathom wanting to pull someone over right now.

You get your wallet out and grab the envelope that holds your insurance and technically out of date registration. You’re sure you know what this will be about.

As you watch the Sheriff emerge from his cruiser, you almost pity him as he wears what you can only assume is a very scratchy uniform. Long sleeves, pants, and a ridiculous looking hat. You don’t really feel bad though, he did this to himself.

As he approaches the back of your car, he squints as he looks into your vehicle. His hands find his belt as he saunters closer, a toothpick in his mouth that he plays with.

Your anxiousness builds as he takes his sweet time getting to your window.

You greet him with a forced smile as he leans down, slapping one hand on the hood of your car while he peers down at you, getting closer.

“Hi,” you offer timidly.

“Evenin’, darlin’,” he drawls as he takes you in; clear blue eyes roving you up and down, twinkling with something…off putting. When his gaze meets yours again, his tongue moves his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “You know why I stopped you?”

“My tags,” you answer, earning a squint from him.

“Your tags?”

“Was that,” your eyes round, “not why?”

He chuckles, “You got a light out, darlin’.”

“Oh,” you mutter.

“Yeah,” he responds dully. “Expired tags, ya said?”

“Well,” you start, “they’re not exactly expired. The ones on my car are old, but the registration was paid for. I just don’t have the stickers yet,” you try to explain.

“Long way from home, aren’t ya?”

“Uhm,” your brows furrow before you can school yourself at his change of subject, “I- yeah. Just passing through on my way back.”

“Hm.”

It’s quiet between you as the air grows tense. You don’t know what to do or say, you just wait for him to continue.

“If I run your plates, am I gonna be catchin’ you in a lie?”

You stare dumbly for half a second. “Uhm, I don’t… I dont know how it’ll look or show up. I need to get my car smogged before I can get the new tags,” you admit, “but the registration is paid for. My dad paid it, he sent me the receipt and everything, I can pull it-“

“Daddy’s girl, huh?”

Your words cut off instantly but your lips stay parted in a sort of shock. Did he actually just say that? Ew. Your stomach roils at his words. At the way he’s looking at you, leaning into your car.

You titter, an uneasy sound escaping you as you give a wince of a smile. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this?

“I,” you breathe, don’t make matters worse, “yeah, I guess I am,” you shrug, offering a close lipped attempt at a smile.

Your response gets a wicked grin from him as he laughs and it makes you feel disgusting. You have to suppress the shudder that threatens to give away your agitation.

He isn’t an ugly guy, far from it if you’re being honest, but this is entirely inappropriate. You’re all alone out here with this man, a sheriff at that, and his creeping on you is verging from annoying to scary.

“Well unfortunately for you, sweetheart, I don’t think your daddy’s gonna be able to get you outta this one.”

His blue eyes are darker now and his voice is lower as he drawls his words.

Your heart stutters in your chest, squeezing as anxiety seizes you.

“What, what do you mean, sir?” you eek out through your tight throat, lashes fluttering as you search his eyes for any sort of humor, a sign that things aren’t as serious as he’s just made them sound.

“Well, you got a tail light out, old tags on your car, and your registration may be paid but that doesn’t mean it’s been renewed. I’d hate to have to take you in for somethin-“

“Take me in?” your voice raises despite yourself, “why would you take me in? You can just give me the tickets, I’m not arguing, I-“

“Did it sound like I was finished talkin’, darlin’?” he says, voice level but firm as he eyes you sharply.

Your mouth is open in your stupor before you answer, “No, sir,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“As I was sayin’,” he cuts you off, spitting out his toothpick at his feet before his gaze cuts back up to you. He kisses his teeth as he stares down at you, “I’d hate to have to take you in over somethin’ that could be…easily resolved.” He tilts his head, giving you a knowing look.

You’re disgusted.

This man is disgusting.

But there is no way he’s insinuating what he seems to be insinuating.

“Right, sir. I will get everything taken care of right away,” you nod with an anxious smile. Maybe playing dumb is the way to go here.

He tsks and your stomach drops right along with your smile.

“You know, the law here states that a driver gettin’ pulled over in an unregistered vehicle can result in said vehicle bein’ towed and said driver gettin’ their license suspended.”

You swallow hard as you let him continue, trying to will away the welling tears threatening to form in your eyes while you work to steady your breathing.

He sticks his palm out expectantly. Your brows furrow as you look at him until he instructs you. “License, darlin’.”

You scramble and find it in your wallet, handing it to him. His hand closes on yours as you place it in his hand and you force yourself not to jerk away too harshly as you pull your hand from his.

He examines your license as you wait with bated breath. You wish you could just put your car in drive and forget this stop ever happened.

“Really are a long way from home,” he muses. He drawls your name and flashes his eyes back to you for a split second. “Hm. Little old to have your daddy payin’ your bills, don’t ya think?”

You don’t respond. Shame and guilt at the reminder of your folly nipping at you again - worse now under the gaze of this man. You look at his badge as he keeps reading your license. Bodecker.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not judgin’ ya,” he smiles as he hands your license back to you, held between two fingers. You try to meet his eye but your embarrassment and anxiety keep you from holding it long as you slowly reach to take it back.

“I’ve always been under the belief that pretty ladies like yourself shouldn’t have to take care’a things like that on their own. Should have a man to take care of ‘em. 

Seein’ as that man’s still your daddy, I’m assumin’ you haven’t found someone for yourself yet,” he eyes you, “now how’s a gorgeous girl like you single?”

Your skin is crawling but deep down you’re almost grateful for the distraction from your law breaking. 

Almost.

“Sorry, sir, officer-“

“Sheriff,” he corrects.

“Sheriff. Am I getting ticketed, or…?” you trail off. Agitation ticks in his jaw and you regret not playing along and answering his question immediately.  “It’s just, it’s a long drive and I was hoping to make it home by tomorrow night,” you swallow hard, unconsciously clenching your jaw as you tense up.

“Right,” he scoffs. “Well…” he takes a deep breath, “looks to me like we got two options here, darlin’. And ticketing ain’t one of ‘em. Why don’t you do me a favor,” he says, stepping away from your door slightly, “turn off the engine and step outta the vehicle for me.”

“Sheriff?'' Your voice is quiet, undertoned with the terror you feel creeping up your spine. Why do you need to get out of your car? Why did your taillight have to go out? Why did you have to open your stupid mouth before he even told you what he was pulling you over for? Why did you have to drive through this stupid little town to begin with!

“I’m bein’ nice, sweetheart. Now you can either get outta the vehicle or I can remove you from it and put you in the back’a my own.” The turn of his voice, the dark shift in his eyes, you don’t have it in you to not listen to him.

You shut off the car, unbuckling your seatbelt, and slowly grab the door handle, breathing deeply as you push it open and step out.

God, it’s hot. You hold back a whine at the humidity that surrounds you and shift uncomfortably before the sheriff. He’s tall, and ten times more intimidating now that there’s not a metal barrier between you. You pull on the strap of your tank top as you wait for his next instruction.

“Keys,” he orders, holding out his hand.

You’re frozen despite the heat as you look at him with rounded, unsure eyes. You clutch them tighter in your hand.

You stutter a breath as he steps closer to you. He stares in your eyes as he grabs your hand and takes the set of keys easily before he strides past you back to his cruiser. You follow him with your eyes, turning your head to watch him over your shoulder.

He throws your keys into his car along with his hat before he shuts the door and comes back toward you.

“Two options,” he repeats as he stands behind you. “I think I know which one would be best for both of us.”

You feel heavy hands grip your hips and you shudder under his touch, a sharp gasp leaving you as you’re yanked back into the sheriff’s body. He’s groping you. He’s groping you and there’s no one around to see or stop him. There’s no one around to help you. There’s nothing you can do.

“Either I call a tow and get your vehicle taken down to the yard and take you in the back of my cruiser,” he rumbles in your ear as he leans into you, “or,” he breathes, his lips tickling your jaw as he lowers his head toward your neck,

“And this is the option I’m rootin’ for-” he smirks, “-you get down on your knees and take care’a this,” he intones as he grinds his stiffness into your backside, earning a breathy squeaky from you as you squeeze your eyes shut. Praying to anyone who might be listening that this is all just a bad dream, that it isn’t real. “And I’ll take care’a you, darlin’,” he simpers darkly, his hands slithering down your body as he gropes you without care. You can’t do so much as eke out a word as he touches you. You want to scream, tell him to stop, to just take you to his station and tow the damn car. But you can’t. And even if you could… where does that leave you? Your parents have done so much for you already - too much. You can’t put more on them, can’t keep running to them to solve your problems. The sheriff was right, you realize, your dad isn’t gonna be able to get you out of this.

No one can.

You won’t be able to afford getting your car out, and you won’t have any way home.

He says you have two options. But it seems you both know that you only really have one.

“Mm,” he hums as he squeezes your hips and tummy, his thumb rubbing along the exposed skin at the hem of your top, “you’re soft.”

His hands slide around your body, pressing on your stomach as he works one down the front of your leggings.

It’s in the blink of an eye that you find yourself pressed against the side of your car, the sheriff firm on your back as he holds you in place. He has one arm around your waist as his other is down your pants. He forces a leg between yours as he urges you to spread them for him. Your knees hit the car as you begin to struggle and your chest squeezes.

The sheriff shoves himself hard against you and your body is forced even more firmly to your car as you cry out at the force. You grab onto his forearm as his thick fingers rub against your covered cunt.

“Ah-ah,” he admonishes, “none’a that now, sweetheart,” he rubs himself against your ass. His fingers don’t stop as they pull at the fabric of your underwear, finally getting the access he was looking for.

He chuckles and tears prick at your eyes in your mortification as you mewl pathetically, hiding your face against the car - your wetness undeniable as he delves between your folds. You groan as he pokes at your entrance. He swirls around your wetness and drags his fingers up your sex. He nudges your clit and your breath catches at the shock.

“There she is,” he smirks, his lips against your cheek. He presses on your clit and rubs the button in sloppy circles as your voice raises despite yourself.

“Sheriff, please,” you quake under his touch. You’re firm against your car as he keeps you pressed with his weight.

“You ain’t gotta beg, darlin’, I’ll give ya what you need.”

It sounds like a taunt as you teeter on the edge. His fingers work you closer and closer to your unwanted high and as you tense and a desperate moan leaves you, a deep moan sounds from him in turn. “You’re almost there, ain’tcha,” he breathes harshly. 

Your eyes stay screwed shut as you try to block him out while your nerve endings blaze in the building tension. That coil deep inside you winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

“That was a question, darlin’, fuckin’ answer it,” he growls meanly in your ear as he jerks you against the car again.

“Yes,” you cry, not bothering to lie. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” you murmur pathetically as that coil finally snaps and your orgasm crashes over you. You hold onto his arm without thinking as you come and barely register when he kisses your hair softly, keeping you upright and against him as you come down; your soft cries like music to his ears.

He slips his hand from your pants and you let go of him, leaning on the car instead as you try to calm your breathing. 

“Much as I’d like to feel that sweet little mouth a’yours around me,” he sniffs, “be a damn shame to not fill you up when your pussy’s cryin’ for me like she is.” The sound of his belt jingling and his zipper cutting through the air has you spinning around in horror.

“No, please. You can’t do this,” you whimper, “please, sir, I-”

You’re cut off by the sheriff’s hand gripping your jaw as he squeezes harshly while you look at him with pleading eyes and puffy cheeks.

“You listen to me, and you listen good, sweetheart,” he sneers in your face, “I can do whatever the hell I want to do, whenever the hell I want to do it, you understand me?”

It’s a question you know he’s expecting an answer to as you struggle out a “yes” through his tight grip.

He lets go of your face and moves to take your arm, his grip still as tight and harsh. You can feel his strength in every move he makes against you. “Walk,” he instructs as he urges you from your car and toward his cruiser.

You can’t breathe as a renewed wave of anxiety flows through you the closer to the back of the car you get. “Wait, you said-”

“I know what I said,” he interrupts you, stopping you in your walk as he gets in front of you to pull open the back door of his cruiser. “You ain’t in handcuffs, now, are you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Then quit your blubberin’.”

He grabs you close again, quickly and easily shoving you down face first into the back of the car. You squeal and hold yourself up on the seat as he pulls your hips against him while he stands behind you, his back to the empty road. You’re only half inside the car as you feel him tear down your leggings and underwear. If someone were to drive by right now, they’d get quite the show as the sheriff shimmies down his still undone pants in kind. You’re grateful, at least, that you can’t see anything. Of course you know what’s coming next, but you won’t have to watch it, or have him see your face in this position.

The unexpected slap he lands on your ass has you yelping at the sting as he snickers, rubbing the spot gently before he does it again. 

“You like that, darlin’? I can see you gettin’ wetter already,” he taunts as he pushes the small of your back down, arching you more while he admires your cunt from behind. You feel his fingers as he rubs at you, dipping them past your entrance, slipping them in up to his knuckle while you huff through your nose, trying to hold back a moan as he wiggles them before slipping them back out.

You don’t know why you’re so shocked when the next thing you feel is his cock pushing into you. No verbal warning, just his heavy hand on your hip as he guides himself into your tight hole. He’s thick, thicker than you’ve ever had, and you want to die at the moan that floats past your lips as he groans in his delight as you're wrapped tightly around his length. His fingers flex on your hip as he frames your other side in kind, holding tightly onto you while he inches deeper inside your walls. He gets to your limit and holds himself there for a long moment. Your body moves on its own, your hips wiggling just the slightest in search of some kind of friction. 

You feel yourself heat up more in your embarrassment as he groans again, “knew you’d like this,” he says smugly.

You gasp sharply as he begins to move again, sliding almost all the way out of you before pushing right back in, your tight resistance spurring him on as your walls squeeze him snuggly. In then out, over and over again, his thick cock filling you up. With every thrust into you, he makes sure you feel every single inch of him.

Your wetness is undeniable, you can hear the lewd sounds of your fucking loud and clear as you’re rocked between him and the leather seats. The slapping of his hips against your ass and his heavy pants and growls as he grips you tightly, it all adds to the building, buzzing sensation growing inside of you. 

“Goddamn tight,” he pants, pulling you back into him by your hips as he fucks you hard, his movements growing more erratic the closer he gets. “Gonna make me bust inside a’you, darlin’. Fill you up nice and full’a my jizz,” he breathes heavily, groaning and slapping your ass hard, groping you as he moves you back and forth on his thick length.

You mewl, fingers clawing at the leather beneath you, your eyes scrunched in your thieved pleasure as you meet his thrusts. You don’t want this, but it feels so good. His cock hits that certain spot just right, and you can’t stop yourself from fucking him back in search of more. It’s awful, and it feels like heaven.

“Fuck, I’m gonna bust,” he moans, one hand slipping from your hip down to find your clit. Your walls clench around him as he winds you tighter with his touch. You don’t have a voice as you squeak a moan, eyes rolling as you drone out mindlessly, completely cock drunk as he slams into you, chasing his orgasm.

You're overcome by your own, blindingly so as the sheriff works you through it. You quake beneath him and suddenly feel the hot spurts of his come as he lets go inside of you, curses tumbling from his lips as he does, his hold on you never faltering. 

Slowly he comes down, chuckling through heavy breaths as he loosens his grip on you, instead rubbing circles on your hip.

You’re both breathing hard and you turn around gingerly to look at him, still holding yourself up on your arms. He’s pulling his pants up and zipping his fly when you both hear a rumbling approaching from behind the curve of the road just behind where you’re parked. Your brow is quirked as you listen. Head still foggy from your orgasm, you don’t piece together what the sound is. 

“Shit,” he curses as he fumbles with his belt, working quick to fasten it. “Get in, lay down, darlin’,” he instructs, pushing you back gently and closing the door on you just as you see headlights coming up from around the curve. 

You heed his instructions and lay down on the seat, heart racing, adrenaline pumping as you strain to listen past the doors of the cruiser.

You hear the car that was approaching slow down as they come up on the scene of your two cars, clearly curious. No one ever takes this back road, not even the oldtimers - not unless traffic is really bad on the main highway. But it’s late on a Sunday night, the highway is surely clear, and so should this road be, too.

“Sheriff Bodecker,” an old voice croons, “is that you, dear?”

“Ah, Mrs. Greenly,” the sheriff greets, “how are ya, ma’am?”

“Just fine, Sheriff. Comin’ back in from pickin’ up Walter’s medicine outta town. Everything alright out here?”

“Everything’s fine, ma’am. Just an abandoned vehicle we got a call about, had to come check it out before we call for a tow,” he nods toward your car. “Nothin’ to worry about,” he smiles.

“Oh,” she accepts, “well, you have a nice night, Sheriff. Stay safe.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You have a nice night, now,” he returns.

“And tell your little lady I said hello,”

“I certainly will,” he smiles again, nodding at her as she does the same.

You listen as she drives off, picking back up her speed as she does.

You hear the steps he takes as the sheriff comes back over to the door. You stare hard at him as he opens it to you and you sit up.

“What was it you said about this road never being used?” 

He laughs, leaning down close to you, taking your face gently in his hands before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as you lean up into his touch, kissing him back just as fervently. A sudden desperation coming over you, you try to pull him down with you, to be closer.

He breaks away with a heavy breath, eyes closed as he presses his forehead to yours. When he opens them, you’re met with brilliant blue eyes gazing back at you. 

“I don’t recall usin’ the word ‘never’,” he evades as you shake your head at him.

“Lee Bodecker,” you say, pulling him down further into the backseat with you as you wind your arms around his neck, “you sir, are a menace. A silver tongued devil.”

He smirks and kisses you again before he gets off of you, getting out of the car and standing up with a groan. He holds his hand out for you and you take it as he helps you out of the car. There’s a sticky mess between your legs but you ignore it as you pull your leggings all the way back up.

Lee closes the door and turns you so your back is against it as he stands in front of you.

“But did you like it?” He asks, leaning into you just a bit.

You bite down your smile and nod, “Yeah, I did.”

“Knew you would,” he says against your lips as he kisses you again. His hands fall to your waist as he holds you. “You were real’ convincin’, too. Almost had me second guessin’ myself.”

You titter at that, “Yeah?” you ask.

“Mhm,” he affirms. “But then I heard that sweet little moan a yours.” 

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur softly as his lips tickle yours. Just barely touching as you breathe him in.

“Well,” he kisses your lips softly one last time before he pulls away from you completely, “it’s hot as hell out here, sweetheart,” he walks around to the passenger door of the cruiser and opens it for you. “Why don’t I take you home and see if I can’t get any other sounds outta ya,” he simpers. You meet him at the door, standing before him with a raised brow. “Been killin’ me not hearin’ my name fall from your pretty lips all night.”

You smile as you touch his cheek. “You wanna hear me moan your name?” Lee purrs in your attention as he steps closer to you. You smirk and bend to get into the car. “Gonna have to make me.”

He licks his lips as he watches you, closing the door for you once you’re settled. He gets in on the driver’s side and you continues, "But first I'm gonna need a shower. And a lotta cuddles," you add with a soft smile as you peer at him with loving eyes.

"I can do that," he agrees, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile, his gaze just as soft for you.

"Home we go, then," you simper.

He turns his head back to the windshield and huffs as he takes notice of your car again.

He looks at you in exasperation, sighing. “You and this damn car.”

You look back sharply in challenge.

“Look, I already told ya I’m not lettin’ you drive all the way across the country alone in that thing. And I know your dad already paid your fees, but…” he sighs again and you wait for him to continue as you keep your eyes on his. “What’s it gonna take to get you to finally register it here, huh? It’s been two years. And I shoulda given you a ticket for it 22 months ago,” he adds.

You laugh, “Shoulda, coulda, but you didn’t.”

He narrows his eyes at you but it only makes you laugh more.

“It’s not my fault you flirted instead of ticketing,” you grin as you lean over the console to kiss him. “But I am grateful for it.”

You sit back down in your seat and buckle your belt as Lee hides his own smile at the memory of your first meeting, putting the car in drive as he rolls up to yours. 

“Gotta grab your wallet,” he says as he stops and gets out. You watch him as he does, admiring him - and weighing his previous question.

He gets back in, handing your wallet to you before he starts driving again, heading back into town.

“It’d be a bit of a hassle, ya know,” you muse aloud, “having to register here, getting a new id, new license, all that. Seems a little pointless just to change the state I’m living in…Now if there was something else that needed changing, something more important, something like,” you sigh dramatically, “my name, for instance, well then maybe that’d get me to finally do it,” you shrug. Lee looks over to you so quick at the mention of changing your name, you almost worry he might’ve hurt himself, but the lopsided grin that lights up his face assures you he’s just fine.

“Two years is a good while,” you add with a small smile of your own. “Plus, this place,” you emphasize, hoping he gets your meaning, him, you think as you reach for his free hand while he steers with his left, “feels a lot more like home than home ever has.”

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - seven (finale)

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛" + "def some little smut during the enemies part and a long story"

word count: 6.3k

warnings: last chapter <3

You’ve been to Kildare County Sheriff’s Department way more times than you care to admit

Being the oldest kid in your family—and somehow the only actual adult—you lost count of how many times you had to drag your dad out of jail between the ages of sixteen and twenty. It felt like a full-time job.

Then there were the countless times you’d been there for your friends. 

JJ, for instance, had been taken in more than once for public disturbances. It was almost a given that he'd end up in that shithole whenever there was a party or some kind of trouble brewing. You knew every officer by name, and they knew you too. Some gave you that look—you know, the one that said, “Oh, sweetie, you again?”—while others just shook their heads, probably wondering when you would finally stop playing caretaker and start looking out for yourself.

But you always showed up, no matter what, because that’s what you did. You took care of your own.

The first time you had to pick up your dad, you were sixteen. Brand new driver’s license, barely knew how to parallel park, and boom, you’re getting woken up at like 2 a.m. because your dad’s been arrested. You were shaking the whole time, gripping the steering wheel like your life depended on it, eyes blurry with tears. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him wasted or bruised up, but this time felt different. This time, it hit you that this was gonna be your life now.

You were stuck.

You remember pulling up to the station, parking all kinds of crooked because your hands wouldn’t stop trembling. You ran inside, still half-asleep, and the officer at the desk gave you this sad little smile. “He’s in the back,” he said, like you didn’t already know.

When you saw your dad slumped over, bruised, and barely awake, something inside you just... cracked. He looked up, and for a second, he recognized you. “Hey, kiddo,” he mumbled, still drunk, still out of it. Back then, there was still some part of him left, some shred of the man he used to be.

You signed the papers, helped him stumble to the car, and drove home in silence while he passed out in the passenger seat. It was the first of so many nights like that. And you knew it wasn’t gonna be the last. When you finally pulled into the driveway, you helped him inside and onto the couch. He mumbled a thank you before passing out, his snores filling the room.

Now, sitting in the small, stuffy waiting room of the sheriff’s department, you glance around, feeling a knot of tension tightening in your stomach, the fluorescent lights doing little to help, making everything appear sterile and unforgiving.

You wish you could be anywhere but here.

JJ’s next to you, his leg bouncing like he’s got caffeine running through his veins instead of blood. You’re already annoyed, and it doesn’t help that Rafe is sitting on your other side, looking just as pissed off.

“Will you stop bouncing your leg JJ?” You grit out, already irritated from waiting longer than an hour.

“Why the fuck did he have to come?” JJ mutters, throwing daggers at Rafe with his eyes.

“JJ, not now.” You put your hand on his arm, trying to keep him from starting something. The last thing you need is another fight.

JJ glares, but his jaw clenches shut. “This is so messed up,” he grumbles.

“Messed up is leaving your sister alone with your drunk piece of shit father.”

“Like I knew he was there, you dumbass?” JJ shoots back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Maybe stop leaving her alone.”

“Oh, here we go,” you mutter, feeling the tension rise again. The last thing you need right now is for these two to start another fight.

Ever since JJ came back to the mainland only to pick you up from Taneyhill, things had been…tense. It was one thing to talk about you and Rafe, it was a completely different thing to see you together.

You know your brother hates every second of it. 

“Oh, but you wanna talk about drunk pieces of shit? How many times did your daddy bail you out?” 

Rafe’s eyes narrow, his fists clenching, “How many times did you make your sister bail you out, huh?”

"You wanna talk about sisters too?"

You shut your eyes, attempting to ignore the way they’re clawing each other’s throats out with tainted insults. It was a miracle they're standing in the same room without killing each other, but you can only take so much. It’s like they’re about to throw punches, right there in the middle of the sheriff’s office.

"Shut the fuck up Maybank."

“Fuck you, Cameron!” JJ snaps, standing up so fast his chair skids backward, “You think you’re better than us?”

Rafe stands up too, stepping closer to JJ, “Better than you? Yes.”

“Don’t act like you’re doing this for her,” JJ scoffs. “You’ve never helped anyone but yourself, you manipulative asshole.”

“That’s enough,” you snap, standing up and stepping between them, pushing them apart. Your voice is shaking with frustration. “You two are going to shut the fuck up or take this shit outside. It’s nine in the morning. I didn’t get a wink of sleep, and I’m not gonna sit here and hear you two bitch it you.”  

JJ glares at Rafe over your shoulder. “We don’t need this asshole’s help. We can handle it ourselves.”

Rafe sneers. “Handle it? Like you’ve handled everything else?”

Your brother lunges forward, but you push him back, your voice shaking. “Sit your ass down or leave, I’m not going to repeat myself.”

They both just stare at you, their harsh words still hanging in the air of this stuffy room. The tension is almost suffocating, but there's no way you’re letting them keep tearing each other apart. You’re exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. The last thing you need right now is to play mediator between them… again.

Rafe finally sits down, arms crossed, biting his tongue—for your sake, you know. JJ’s sitting too now, still fidgeting like he always does, tapping his fingers against the armrest.

"Look," you say, your voice still firm, "We're here for a reason. Let's just get through this and get out, okay?"

Your brother just grunts, glaring at the wall like it’s personally offended him. Rafe lets out a sigh and gives you the tiniest nod, like a reluctant “fine.” You sit back down, feeling a bit of the weight in your chest ease up. Rafe leans in and gently takes your hand, mouthing, "I’m sorry." You give it a little squeeze—apology accepted, for now.

JJ notices but looks away too quickly for you to read him. You know he’s pissed, but at least for the moment, he’s staying quiet.

The minutes crawl by, each one feeling like forever, and finally, a cop shows up at the door, calling your name. The three of you stand up at the same time, and Rafe and JJ follow behind you, silent but close, as you walk down the hallway.

The clanging of barred doors shutting behind you makes your stomach twist, and you eventually end up in a small interrogation room. The officer gestures to a chair, "Take a seat." He heads off to get paperwork, and you glance at Rafe, who’s watching you like he’s afraid you might disappear. You know he won’t relax until your dad is completely out of the picture.

Your brother, on the other hand, leans against the wall with crossed arms, a brooding expression on his face. He's always been protective, even if his way of showing it often led to clashes with others. You wish things could be different.

Officer Malcom comes back with a stack of papers, but before you can even look at them, Rafe’s lawyer, Mr. Johnson, walks in. Rafe's had him on speed dial since the whole mess started, and honestly, he's been a lifesaver. He sits beside you, reviewing the papers calmly, and just having him there makes everything feel a little less scary.

“Alright, folks, let's go through this step by step. The first form here is the petition for a temporary restraining order. It outlines the incidents and reasons for seeking protection.”

“Are these incidents documented with the sherrif’s office?” Mr. Johnson's expertise is evident in the way he examines the document meticulously.

“Yes, sir. We have reports dating back to—" Officer Malcom stops for a second, checking the data, “About eight years ago, give or take.”

Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, brows furrowed, clearly pissed off that this has been going on for that long without anyone doing anything. You try to ignore it, focusing on the papers in front of you instead.

“What happens after I file this?

“Once filed, a judge will review the petition. If approved, a temporary restraining order will be issued, usually effective immediately. Then, there'll be a hearing within a few weeks to determine if a permanent order is necessary.”

“What if he doesn't abide by the temporary order?” 

The officer only nods sympathetically. “Violating a restraining order is a criminal offense. He could face fines, jail time, or both.”

Rafe’s still looking at you, “Does she have to serve him personally with these papers?”

“It’s crucial that he’s officially notified. We handle that part, though.”

Rafe’s lawyer is taking notes when he speaks up again, “If he contests the order, he’ll have the opportunity to present his side at the hearing. Both parties can bring witnesses or evidence. But based on your father’s behavior, that’s unlikely.”

You hope to God he doesn’t. The thought of seeing him again makes you feel like you might throw up. You take a deep breath, hands itching to twirl a piece of your hair.

“How long does the process usually take?”

You feel a hand touch your shoulder, gently tightening the grip around the skin, you don’t have to look back to know it’s Rafe. By now you know the lines and the ridges of his hands as if they are your own.

"The timeline can vary, but typically, from filing to the hearing, it might take a few weeks. It depends on the court's schedule and any potential delays."

You nod, absorbing the information while trying to steady your breathing. None of this feels real. Not the legal stuff, not the fact that this could actually be over soon. As the conversation continues, Mr. Johnson outlines the next steps clearly, discussing what will happen during and after the hearing. 

The officer quickly gathers the papers in his hands, “I’ll get everything started then. Just a moment.”

As he leaves to process the paperwork, a brief silence settles over the room. You exchange glances with JJ and Rafe, both of them entirely too interested of the concrete floor. 

“This is the right thing to do, right?”

You know it is. You’ve known for years, but it’s still hard to understand how it came to this. Your life could’ve been so different. 

JJ nods, fiddling with his shark tooth necklace, the one you’d given him when he was seven. “Yeah. He shouldn’t be able to just...” He trails off shaking his head.

Rafe squeezes your shoulder once more, then lowers himself to your level and plants a quick peck on your temple, “You’ve got this. It’ll be okay.”

Mr. Johnson finally puts his pen away, turning to you, “I’ll stay on top of the filings and keep you updated on any developments.”

This moment is a culmination of years of struggle. It's daunting, but you’re not alone. 

 "Thank you.”

JJ shifts his weight, his agitation visible. "I hate this," he mutters. 

"I know," you reply, not knowing what else to say.

The door swings open again, and Officer Malcom re-enters, holding a stack of papers. "Alright," he says, handing you a pen. "Just sign here, and we'll get this process started."

You take the pen with shaky hands, knowing there’s no going back after this. As you sign your name, you can't help but sigh in relief.

This is a step towards freedom.

Rafe watches you intently, his eyes full of concern. He reaches out, placing a hand on your back, a little reminder that he's here for you. JJ stands close by, his protective instincts on high alert.

After you finish signing, Officer Malcom takes the papers and gives you a reassuring nod. "We'll take care of the rest. You should hear from us soon about the next steps."

You stand up, feeling a little lighter, but the emotional toll of the day still kicks your ass. As you make your way out of the room, Rafe keeps a steady hand on your back, guiding you.

Once outside, the morning sun feels almost blinding after the harsh fluorescent lights of the station. JJ immediately lights a cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling with a sigh. 

Rafe looks at you, his expression softening. "You're good?"

You nod, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I think so. Thank you for being here, both of you."

JJ smirks, though there's a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Where else would I be?”

You glance at the two men beside you, each representing a different part of your world. Your brother stubs out his cigarette, glancing over at Rafe with an exaggerated sigh. He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

“Gotta admit, I never thought I'd see the day when 'Rafe the Retch' would be helping us out.”

A laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it, but you quickly cover it up, turning it into a cough. You’d forgotten about that one.

Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “'Rafe the Retch'? Seriously, what the fuck?”

“Ask her,” JJ nods in your direction.

“You called me that shit?”

You bite your lip, “To be fair, I called you worse things.”

Rfe tilts his head, hands on his hips, “Like what?”

“You don’t want to know.”

The three of you start walking toward the parking lot, as you reach the cars, JJ pulls you into a quick, tight hug. “We’re gonna get through this,” he murmurs, his voice filled with determination. 

You hug him back, “I know, Jay.”

Rafe stands a few feet away, watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression. When your brother finally lets you go, he steps closer, “Ready to go?”

JJ looks at you, the concern in his eyes clear. "I gotta head to work. Do you want a ride home? It's on the way.”

You glance at Rafe, then back at JJ, sensing his reluctance. “No but thank you.”

JJ’s shoulders tense, but he nods, trying to hide his disappointment. "Alright. Just... call me if you need anything, okay?"

You smile, appreciating his concern. "I will. Drive safe."

He nods again, glancing one more time at Rafe before getting into his truck and driving off. You watch him go, knowing that things are still far from being okay between the two of you.

You know he’s never going to change his opinion about Rafe, maybe not until he witnesses the changes in him, but you hope that one day they’ll find some common ground. It’s a lot to ask from your brother, you know that, and it’s why you never push him. 

“You sure you’re doing okay?”

You nod, leaning into Rafe now that he stands behind you, “Yeah, just a little tired.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you towards his car, “Did you get any sleep last night?”

"Barely," you admit. "Just couldn't stop thinking about today.”

He unlocks the car, opening the passenger door for you. "Well, now that it's done, you can rest. I’ll even put that bullshit show you like.”

You gasp ready to punch him in the shoulder, but by the time you turn he’s already on the other side of the car, “Love Island is not a stupid show!”

He chuckles as he starts the engine. "If you say so.”

“You watch it too.”

“Only because you force me to,” Rafe counters, a playful glint in his eyes.

It’s been a month since the nightmare with your dad, and you’ve pretty much been living at Rafe’s new place ever since. Sure, you’ve got your own house, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. Rafe’s apartment though? It’s like your little safe haven now. You don’t officially live there, but who are you kidding? Most of your stuff is in his drawers, he’s stocked the bathroom with all your skincare, hair stuff, even a toothbrush. He tried to go all-out, buying you everything, and you kept telling him to stop, but it’s like talking to a wall. You gave up eventually.

As he pulls out of the parking lot, his hand slides over to grab yours. It’s such a simple thing, but it makes the tight feeling in your chest ease a little. You’re both quiet for most of the drive, but it’s not awkward or anything. It’s actually kind of nice. You never imagined he’d be so...attached. Things between you are still...somewhat undefined, but it definitely feels like a relationship. That thought is pushed to the back of your mind for now. It's just not the right moment to talk about it—not with his father’s trial only weeks away and your own dad still recovering in the hospital.

When you pull up to his apartment, the building feels familiar in a way that makes your stomach flip. He hops out of the car and, as usual, rushes around to open your door for you. It’s such a small thing, but it always makes your heart race.

Once inside, the place feels so different from the craziness of the day. It’s cozy, warm, and just... safe. You kick off your shoes and flop onto the couch, sinking into the cushions.

“Wanna watch your show?” Rafe asks, giving you that half-smile you’ve come to love.

You chuckle, feeling lighter than you have all day. “And you say you don’t love it.”

He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, navigating to the show. As the familiar theme song starts playing, you snuggle closer to him, finding comfort in the routine. It's all trashy drama and ridiculous contestants, but it’s the distraction you desperately need. Rafe’s arm stays around you, like always. But as the episode progresses, your eyelids grow heavy. The events of the day, combined with the sleepless night, catch up to you. You feel yourself drifting off, your head resting against Rafe’s chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm lulling you to sleep.

“Rest, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing whisper. “I’ve got you.”

Next thing you know, you wake up to the smell of something cooking. Blinking your eyes open, you realize Rafe’s in the kitchen, and the living room is dimly lit. A blanket slips off your shoulders as you sit up, and when you look over, he’s already smiling at you.

You’ve seen him smile more times over the past month than all the years you had “known” him combined. It looks good on him, makes him look younger. 

Stretching, you ask, “What’s all this?”

“Dinner. Figured you could use a good meal,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal that he’s cooked for you.

You sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Look at you, Chef Rafe.”

Ever since he moved in on his own, he’s been slowly learning how to take care of himself. You’ve caught him watching cooking and deep cleaning videos more times you can count. You find it endearing. It makes your chest ache, in a good way, to watch him slowly turn into his own person, not the Rafe his father shaped him to be.

He chuckles, giving you a quick forehead kiss. “Eat before it gets cold.”

You sit down, and the first bite has you practically moaning. He snorts at your reaction, but you can tell he’s proud of himself. As you eat, though, you notice he seems a little off. His shoulders are tight, and there’s something in his eyes that makes you pause. You reach across the table, placing your hand over his.

"What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Rafe. What’s wrong?”

He hesitates, then sighs. “Got a call from my lawyer. About Ward.”

The mention of his dad sends a chill down your spine. “What about him?”

Rafe’s thumb brushes your knuckles as he looks down. “He wants to talk.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

Rafe's jaw tightens, and he lets out a slow breath. “Yeah. But every time I’ve tried to stand up to him, it’s backfired."

You squeeze his hand, “He can’t hurt you anymore, you know that, right? You're not the same person you were before," you remind him gently. "You've grown so much, Rafe. You’ve made your own life."

He looks up at you, his gaze softening. The intensity in his eyes is clear—vulnerability, determination, and a deep-seated fear. It's as if he’s silently pleading for your reassurance, for the strength to face his demons.

“You think so?”

It's in the way his eyes become softer when they meet yours, the slight quiver in his lips, the way he holds your hand just a little tighter.

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Okay. I…I’ll think about it.”

The two of you finish dinner, the conversation shifting to lighter topic. After cleaning up, you find yourselves back on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. 

Everything feels so domestic it pulls at your heartstrings. And it hits you how much you love this, just being here with him.

But you can still feel the tension rolling off him. You turn to him, tracing little patterns on his chest. “You’re still worried, huh?”

He sighs, throwing his head against the cushions, his hand coming up to rest on yours. "Yeah. I’m scared talking to him will pull me back into that dark place.”

You press a kiss to his clothed chest. “You won’t go back there. Not while I’m here.”

He tightens his hold on you, “You know you’re too good for this world. It’s ridiculous.”

You narrow your eyes, “Am not.”

“Yeah, you are, Pretty Maybank.”

There it is. That nickname. “You know that’s so stupid, right?”

He grins, completely unbothered. “You love it.”

You nudge him with your elbow. “I tolerate it.”

He catches your hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Fits you perfectly.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips.

“If you say so.”

His eyes soften as he looks at you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. “I do.”

“Shup up,” You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Don’t even know how you came up with that shit.”

Rafe laughs, the sound low and rumbling, his hand moving to rub your leg.  “It’s really stupid.”

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “’Course it is.”

“Remember when we were fourteen, and we were both at the beach for that huge surf competition? You were this cocky, skilled little girl with an ego bigger than the waves.”

“And you were a suck-up mother—"

“Anyways,” He rolls his eyes, ignoring the way you tried to cut him off, his hand now lightly squeezing your knee, “You were out there showing off, catching wave after wave. I was so fucking annoyed."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you were secretly in awe of me?”

“Maybe,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “Or maybe I was just bitter because you made me look bad.”

“I made everyone look bad.”

“Okay, Gabriel Medina. You were out there showing off, making everyone watch you like you owned the ocean. All the boys were ogling you, calling you pretty, and you were loving every second of it.”

You smirk, remembering the day. "I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”

“Good?” He snorts, shaking his head as his fingers trail up and down your thigh. “You were more than good, you were unreal.”

"Yeah, yeah, so how does that tie into the nickname?”

“You came out of the water, hair all messy, sand on your skin, but you had this huge smile. One of the boys called you 'Pretty Maybank,' and you just laughed, brushing it off. But I— I guess I remembered it. It fit you.”

You blink, momentarily thrown off, "I...I didn’t know you remembered that."

“You’re kinda hard to forget Maybank.”

Your heart flutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to breathe, “Shut up.”

He leans in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head. It only lasts a few seconds, before you’re pulling away, mumbling against his lips.

 “You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought you were just this arrogant piece of shit who was always trying too hard to fit in.”

“That’s so sweet.”

You cup his face, brushing your thumbs across his cheeks, “Hmm. You were always showing off, too.”

“Well,” he drawls, pulling you a little closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, “We both grew out of that phase. Mostly.”

“Mostly,” you agree with a grin. “But I guess some things never change.”

“Yeah,” He doesn't take his eyes off your face, “Some things don’t change. 

There’s a brief silence, filled with the quiet sound of the TV and the comfortable presence of each other. His fingers continue to trace patterns on your hand, and you can feel his earlier stress easing if only a little.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” He admits quietly, “With you.”

“We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

Rafe’s fingers gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “Yeah, we have.”

“I’ll keep you in check, Cameron.”

He holds you tighter, his breath mingling with yours. “You're too good for me, y’know that?”

You laugh, “I know.”

Before you can react, his fingers are dancing across your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You squeal, wriggling and trying to escape his grasp, but he’s relentless.

"Rafe!” You gasp between fits of laughter.

"Say sorry,” he demands, his fingers still working their magic.

"Never!" you manage to choke out, tears of laughter streaming down your face.

He grins wickedly, the movement driving your tummy insane.

"Wrong answer."

You squirm in his grip, the tickling intensifying. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" you finally relent, breathless and giggling.

Rafe stops, his hands coming to rest on your waist. His grin is triumphant, but there's a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. "That's what I thought," he muses, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You catch your breath, still smiling. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be a tough guy, you’re surprisingly good at this domestic stuff."

He chuckles, pulling you closer until you're nestled against him.

"What can I say? You bring out the best in me, Pretty Maybank."

"I like this," you admit softly. "Being here with you, just... us."

"Me too," Rafe murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Feels right, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does.”

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

Three weeks later, Rafe finally agrees to visit Ward in prison.

His lawyer arranged the meeting, emphasizing the importance of having this conversation to find closure. Despite your protests, Rafe insisted on doing this alone. Plus, prison's security measures are stringent, and there’s no way you could accompany him inside.

Instead, you’re stuck waiting outside, the anxiety killing you slowly. You're sitting on a bench outside the high-security prison, your foot tapping nervously against the ground.

The sun is blazing, making the wait even more unbearable. You wish you could be in there with him, supporting him. You glance at the ugly building, feeling desperate to get the hell away. Your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. It’s a text from JJ.

"how's it going?"

You quickly type back.

"he just went in. kinda losing my mind out here."

"he’ll be okay. devil spawn and all yk".

"not helping???"

"my bad sis, just trying to lighten the mood. seriously though, he's got this."

You sigh, putting your phone down and glancing around the barren surroundings. The high walls and barbed wire of the prison seem to loom even larger now. Time drags on, every minute feels like an hour. You find yourself looking at the entrance every few seconds, hoping to see Rafe walk out.

Inside, Rafe is led through a maze of corridors, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the cold concrete walls. The guards are stoic, their faces expressionless as they guide him to the visitation room. His heart pounds in his chest, but he forces himself to stay calm, to stay focused. He's going to be just fine.

When he finally walks in the room, he sees Ward already seated, the older man looking surprisingly composed. Of course he'd care about his appearance even when he's locked up. There's a glass partition between them, with phones on either side for communication. Rafe sits down, picking up the phone with a shaky hand. He wishes you were here. 

Ward's eyes are piercing as they lock onto Rafe's. "Look who finally decided to visit," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Took you time, boy."

Rafe takes a deep breath. This is it.

"Only came to tell you something."

Ward raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Oh? And what's that? That you’re an ungrateful piece of shit?”

Ignore him, your voice echoes in his head. He knew Ward was going to try to get a rise out of him and he hates that it might work.

"I'm done," Rafe says, his voice steady. "You don't control me anymore."

“After everything I've done for you?"

Rafe's grip on the phone tightens. "You didn't do shit for me. You did it for yourself."

Ward leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea what you're talking about, boy. You need me."

"No, I don't," Rafe retorts, “No one needs you.”

Ward's eyes flash with anger, but he quickly masks it with a calculating smile. "Is that what you really think, son? That you can just walk away from everything? From me?"

Rafe feels a rush of anger fighting it's way up his throat, but he holds it back, remembering your words. He takes another breath, steadying himself, “I don’t care.”

Ward's smile fades, replaced by a sneer. "You think you're so strong now, don't you? Do you think you can survive out there without my influence? The world is a cruel place, Rafe. You won't last a day. You think that Maybank trash is gonna solve all your problems, huh?”

“You’re not getting under my skin.”

Ward's eyes narrow further, and he leans in closer to the glass, his voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it’s about her now, is it? What makes you think she’ll be any better for you than I was? She doesn’t know you like I do."

Rafe’s temper flares, but he forces himself to stay calm. He can’t take the bait.

"Keep her out of this.”

“You think you’re so righteous, so superior. You’ll need more than just some girl to get you through.”

“I don’t need you,” Rafe insists, his voice firm. “I never did.” 

Ward’s expression turns cold once more, but there’s a flicker of something—maybe regret, maybe just a reflection of his anger. “You can pretend you’re free, but you know I’m not so easily forgotten.”

Rafe takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed. “I don’t need to hear anything else from you. I’m done.”

“You won’t be able to keep her safe.”

He knew the conversation wouldn’t be longer than five minutes.

He stands up abruptly, the phone clattering against the partition as he drops it. He doesn't need to hear Ward any more. He turns his back on his father and walks out of the room, the door clanging shut behind him. As he walks back through the maze of corridors, his thoughts turn to you, knowing you’re outside overthinking and ready to hug the live out of him. 

He’s striding to you the moment he sees you. You're still on the bench, trying to distract yourself with your phone, but it’s no use. You jump up, rushing over to him. You’re always so endearing to him it pains him to know he hurt you so badly over the years.

“You okay?”

Rafe’s arms wrap around you, finally breathing normally. His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as if you can protect him from the Ward’s harshness. “I was going crazy waiting out here.”

“Sorry for making you wait,” Rafe murmurs, his voice muffled against your shoulder. 

“I don’t care,” You pull back slightly, your hands moving to cup his face. Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath your touch, “You did what you needed to do. And I’m proud of you.”

He smiles a small, tired smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Needed to hear that. Thank you.”

You nod, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “For what?” you ask, leaning into him again. “You did great, baby. You stood up to him. That takes so much strength.”

You take his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you lead him away from the prison. His grip is strong, his palm warm against yours. The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the only sound the gravel crunching beneath your feet. You glance at him, noting the way his shoulders have relaxed a litte.

“I felt it. Like a weight lifting off me. It’s not completely gone, but it’s lighter.”

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. Your free hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. It had grown so much over the past few weeks. “And it’ll keep getting lighter,” you assure him. 

“You think?”

“I know. You’ll keep needing to stand up to him,” you acknowledge, “But it will get easier each time.”

His hand brushes a stray hair from your face, copying your earlier movement. “And you’ll be here with me?”

“Always.”

Rafe’s expression softens, the hard edges smoothed away by the promise in your words. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

His lips linger there.

“You really are too good for me,” he murmurs against your skin, the sound blending with the hum of the car engines in the distance.

“I know.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. The intensity in his gaze takes your breath away, but it’s a different kind of intensity than you’re used to seeing in him. It’s softer, more open, and entirely focused on you.

“Let’s go home."

You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

[stereksimp]

Derek hated the mouthy, sarcastic, asshole that stuck his nose in business that had nothing to do with him. Like when he was looking for Scott because he got shot but couldn't find him, and Stiles found him first.

He did convince Scott to actually help him, which kinda kept him alive. He was still an asshole the whole time.

Stiles also stuck his nose in the Kanima business. So when he got in the way when the Kanima was attacking them, protecting the kid got him paralyzed in 8 ft of water.

He did hold him up for over 2 hours, and even when they were going under the last time, he didn't let him go. The kid would have drowned right along with him, but Stiles would have died without him, so it had to be self-preservation.

After when they were all talking the in parking lot and he said that the Kanima was a werewolf that went wrong and Stiles called that an abomination over a werewolf, he started seeing the loyalty in him.

Then Scott betrayed him. He worked with Gerard, and that kid is not smart enough to come up with that plan himself. Stiles had to have been in on it. He betrayed him as well.

He was still paralyzed, grapling with what just happened when that damned jeep crashed through the wall and smashed into the Kamina. Stiles figured out how to save Jackson, and when everything was settled, Derek started to leave but overheard Stiles talking to Chris about Erica and Boyd. He left before the conversation finished.

When he got back to the train station, Boyd and Erica were there curled up together. When they saw him, they whimpered, and Erica rushed him.

Erica: Where's Stiles? What happened to him? *tears running down her face*

Derek: *a low growl in his voice* he's fine. What happened to you guys.

Erica tries to speak, but she's crying too hard to get words out, so he looks over to Boyd for answers.

Boyd: Gerard and Allison took 5 when we were in the basement, Stiles was thrown down the stairs. They tortured him, but he didn't say anything.

Derek: *stunned* What.

Derek: Boyd, take her and stay here. I'll be back.

Derek peals out of the lot and makes his way to Stiles' house in record time. The Sheriff is gone, so he slips into Stiles' room to find him wrapping his ribs. A growl rips its way out of him as he crowds Stiles.

Derek: *running his hands all over Stiles* You... didn't know. Scott. Gerard. You. Safe.

Stiles: woah woah woah slow down, big guy. What is going on? I need you to use full sentences here.

Derek's growl tappers off into a whine.

Derek: You protected Erica and Boyd. You got hurt protecting us. You didn't know what Scott planned. You...

Stiles: *Anger laces his voice* I would never do that to you. We may not always get along but to take away your choice like it is unacceptable. Are Erica and Boyd all right. Chris said that he released them when he found out.

Derek just silently grabs the first aid kit and goes about patching Stiles up .

[ratcash-wasgud]

Farmer!Mizu x reader headcanons!!! (yay)

About Mizu:

Hence living in the countryside her whole life, she grew up with a small accent, but since Akemi didn't have one, she secretly practiced to speak withouth it.

She grew up alongside Eiji, who owned a farm, and her mother who sometimes visited, but not really out of love.

She never really had friends, since the farm was kinda isolated, exept for Ringo was the son of a noodle shop owner, and bought supplies from the farm.

Akemi moved down to the country side when Mizu was already 17, and she was the first "city-person" she interacted with.

Taigen was the son of the sheriff of the town, who loved to accuse Mizu to be a criminal or low life of some sorts, since she was usually covered in dirt from helping Eiji.

Mizu inherited the farm from Eiji, who just randomly decided to retire one day and move to small cottage. That man does whatever he wants.

Mizu quickly got the hang of the farm life, and by 22 she became used to everything and learned to love the hard work too.

She keeps chickens, cows and horses on the farm, along with a dog.

The dog's name is Stew and she got him from Ringo, claiming she needs someone around to not feel lonely. Nowadays Mizu talks to Stew about random things when she feels bored.

She also got a favourite chicken named Braces. She named it that because of it's crooked beak.

She also has a guy who reguralry comes back to the farm to train the horses she keeps, named Mikio. Her mother really likes nagging her about marrying him, since "she needs a husband soon and he's a man with money", but Mizu isn't really interested.

She doesn't like the idea of being a housewife. She likes doing the hard work herself, and caring about her farm.

She also mostly grows corn, carrots, tomatoes, and pumpkins. She can get really excited when it's time to harvest, and always brags to Stew about how good her crops look.

You and her:

One day though, a random van parker just outside of her yard, and stayed there. And a big one at that. Big enough for someone to live in it.

Mizu usually knew how to mind her business and enjoyed doing it too, but this time she got pretty curious.

She stayed outside longer that needed, fixing a piece of fence that could've held out even withouth repair, just to catch a glimpe of this mysterious new neighbour.

And there she saw it...you.

A woman who was very obviously from the city, wearing hipster clothes (or that's how she'd call them) and a having weird haircut.

She then, after thinking she calmed her curiousity, shrugged and went inside.

The problem was that she caught herself staring at her ceiling at night, thinking about how much she doesn't care.

The next morning she decided to put out this itching feeling in her brain about this mysterious person, and cut out a generous piece of cheese out of a big wheel she just finished and walked to the van.

You opened the door casually, and the smell of hyacinth punched her in the face. She had to blink a bunch to pull herself out of her head.

"Hey there. Uh...can I help you?" You ask, casually leaning against your van's door. Mizu had to quietly clear her throat before she spoke up after shoving the cheese into your hands.

"Here. Take it." She says, a little harshly, even if she didn't mean it like that. "Name's Mizu. I live in the farm next to ya. We're neighbours." She said, deadpan. You nervously accepted the girft with a chuckle.

"Well, thank you." You smiled at her. "That's very generous of you. How should I thank you?" You ask, casually putting the cheese on the counter next to you.

"No need...is' just cheese." She mumbles She can't help but feel a little nervous. You seem very carefree, and casual...but you're also very different from what she's used to. She likes looking at you, and hearing you soothing voice...and that hyacinth isn't a bad smell either.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that." You playfully bump her shoulder with your fist. "Come in, at least let me make you coffee."

Mizu then withouth even notcing it, walked inside the van, following you. She took in it's cozyness, and also...your form from behind too.

Through her time of sipping some "machine made coffee", she managed to have a nice conversation with you.

She learned that you've been hired in the town's saloon as a singer, and you sing there every other night. It pays well. plus at least you're living your dreams even if you live out of a van. You're an artistic spirt.

She also learned that you are indeed from the city, and you left behind everything to come here, which she admired. She had this stable life on the farm ever since she was small, and she could never imagine just leaving it behind.

She observed you during that conversation, noticng the little chime of your giggle, and the way you lean onto everything that's next to/behind you instead of sitting down, for some reason.

And somehow...she just felt drawn to you.

After she finished her coffee, she bid you goodnight and returned to her farm.

When she arrived she kicked off her boots on the porch, and took off her big hat as she simply sat down on the steps, staring into nothing. Stew came running to her, making himself comfortable on her lap.

"Ya're not gonna believe this." Mizu started to Stew. Ringo was right, Stew was indeed very nice to talk to. "The girl who moved there, in that van...she's pretty nice." She says, petting Stew as she stares at the sunset. "Did ya know she likes music with like...noise in it? That's crazy. She sings at the bar too." She murmurs. "Maybe I should visit one night?" She looks at her dog, who just nudges her head with his nose. "Ya're right, that would be too forward... Ya think she fancies ladies though?"

The way your lives melted together (nsfw warning!):

After that, Mizu started bringing you her produce every other day, varying from cheese, eggs, milk, to even mayo and oil.

She noticed that you never let her leave withouth something in return, let it be a cup of coffee, or even a whole slice of pie, maybe a discount ticket for the bar.

She thought she was laying it on thick, even though was just shoving stuff in your hands with a deadpan expression, then listening to you talk about random things and your day.

Until one day, she decided to get a little bold. While you were cooking pancakes, and she was sipping her coffee just a meter away from you, she suddenly stood up and hugged your waist from behind, pushing her hips against yours.

You didn't say anything, but you didn't push her away, and she could see your cheeks reddening too. That was enough for her after months of pining.

Things let to eachother, and somehow you ended up sitting on the counter, with Mizu standing between your legs, agressively making out for the last thirty minutes.

Her hands kept feeling your body up through your clothes, grabbing at everything that's soft, while your hands slowly wrapped around her neck, slowly untying her bun.

"I'd be so good for you...I promise." She whispered breathlessly into the kiss. She sounded depserate, and honestly? She was. She was pining after this woman for months now, not having the guts to even imagine them being together, so now, that she had opportunity take her, she needs to give everything she's got. "I'd take good care of you...you'd love it on the farm." She says, as she pulls away lightly to start kissing your neck. She slowly lifted your shirt, letting her hands snake inside your bra too, feeling herself melt into your skin. You were so warm and welcoming, like your body soft body was made to be touched.

Made to be touched by her calloused hands though? That one she wasn't sure of. But she wanted it to be like that. Her rough hands grabbed at your soft breasts, kneading them while she listened to your gasps. The only thing you said during the whole eccounter was her name, and "please". Oh, and pleased you got.

"I know, I...I don't have one. A...dick, I mean, but believe me..." She started a little nervously, looking longingly at you as she started to pulls off your pants. "But I could make you feel good withouth one..." She says, and you can feel her calloused fingers on your abdomen, crotch then folds. You body shook a little when you felt her teasing your entrance with her index, and clit with her thumb. You reached out in an attempt to try and undress her too, and maybe give some pleasure back, but she gripped your wrist with her other hand.

"No...I don't want you to. I want to focus entirely on pleasing you now..." She says, and you can feel her almost playing with the juices that dripped out of you. After she made sure her hands were wet enough, she started to slowly push her finger inside, and that alone drew a moan from both of you.

"That's so nice...you feel so warm. You're squeezing me." She whispers right into your ear, as she gently kisses your earlobe, using her other hand to support you, and not letting you just simply slide off the counter. She started slowly moving her fingers in and out first, but only a little, to let you get used to the feeling.

Mizu wanted to do this for a while, and she always imagined what i'd feel like, so she practiced on herself a couple times. She wanted to learn how to please a woman, and she was the closest one to herself, so...

When she heard you whisper her name once again, she started to curl her fingers inside, managing to perfectly rub against your g-spot. She went deeper and deeper, and just like that, the louder you became too. She herself started to pant a little...it felt so good to feel you like this. When she physically started to feel you throb around her fingers, she pushed in as deep as she can, and moved her fingers in a way that could've sent you into a coma.

As she felt you nearing the edge, she pushed her lips against yours, invading your mouth once again, her brain melting as you came on her fingers while moaning inside her mouth.

Aftermath:

After that, you fell alseep in her hands, and Mizu carefully set you down on your bed before she left in silence.

She went home, absolutely giddy, and gushed about it to Stew, whispering the lewd parts, as if anyone else besides her dog could hear it.

She even added "It's a secret though" at the end.

In the following days, when Mizu brough over the produce she sually does, somehow you always ended up sleeping together, and Mizu sometimes even stayed the night.

You both knew it wasn't just about the sex though, since you needed to talk about something for at least two hours before every session, and Mizu always remembered everything new she learned about you.

After thinking about it for weeks, and having two silent breakdowns in front of your door, she asked you to come live with her. The answer was an obvious yes.

You parked your van in her yard, and moved your more important things inside the house.

When anyone asked why Mizu suddenly started supsiciously living with the city girl, Mizu just said things like "Out of conveniece, since she loves to cook and I don't have time for it", mainly to her mother, and mainly to just brush her off. Only Ringo knew the thruth.

And they were roommates, lmao.

[kiss-theggoat]

I’m back again! I’m a sucker for Thomas Hewitt okay, and there isn’t enough about him! I was wondering if you could do another fic about him, a childhood friend of Thomas’s who moved away comes back in town. She ends up staying with them while she is in town, unknowingly having interrupted their killing plans, leaving a victim down in the basement and unknown from reader. But when the family isn’t home (who knows why) victim escapes and attacks reader. Reader attacks back but ends up killing the victim on accident. In fear she hides the body but the guilt kills her and she ends up telling Thomas. (I know out of character stuff)

A/N: Thank you for the request, I really love writing for Thomas and hope you like! 🖤

Surprise!

Thomas Hewitt x F!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Summary: After years of being away from home, you finally decide to visit your hometown…only to see it’s been shut down. Only one family still lives there, and thankfully, you know them, and they offer to let you stay there! But…after a few days, you start to sense that something isn’t right.

TW: Canon-Typical Violence

The drive to Texas was long, but as you watched the dust and sagebrush go by, your chest swelled with excitement. You hadn’t been back in your hometown since your parents made you leave when you were younger, and now that you finally had your own car and your own money, the first thing on your list was to visit that sleepy little Texas town you’d missed since you left. The only issue was that as you kept driving…you noticed that all of the street signs leading to town were decrepit. You thought…well, you’d been gone a long time…just normal wear and tear under the Texas sun, right?

Wrong.

As you drove into town…you felt your chest tighten at the state of things. Almost every single building was boarded up, windows shattered and spray painted, signs on the ground and covered in dust. There was no way that anyone lived here, hell, the only stoplight in town didn’t even work…

Your car sputtered to a stop in front of what used to be your favorite little convenience store. Where you used to go inside and beg your mom to buy you all of the candy she said was off limits. The same store you got caught stealing a candy bar with your best friend and thought you both might get arrested by the sheriff. You slammed your car door shut, dust clouding around you in a plume of sadness in nostalgia. It was so quiet…not even a cricket…until you heard a siren.

How can an abandoned town have law enforcement? You raised a hand to block the relentless sunlight, turning to the source of the sound, where an old cop car rolled up beside you. The tint on the windows was definitely illegal, but thankfully, the sheriff slowly rolled it down, revealing his scowling face, eyes blocked by sunglasses.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in town?” He asked, lip stuffed with chew. His voice was gruff, but sounded so oddly familiar to you. You leaned in closer, eyes squinting in order to get a better look at him. You peered at the name badge…Hoyt. That didn’t sound familiar at all…but then he said your name. You continued to look at him in confusion as he pulled his sunglasses off, his eyes full of recognition. This man obviously knew you…but who was he?

He stepped out of the car and shut the door, leaning against it as he spit a puddle of black sludge onto the ground. “Well I’ll be damned. Thought I’d never see your pretty face again.”

“I’m sorry…it’s been a long time since I’ve been here and…the name Hoyt doesn’t ring any bells.” I told him, pointing at the nameplate on his chest.

“Oh this is a buddy’s uniform. Lost my own badge. The name Hewitt ring any bells? Charlie Hewitt.” He spit again, closer to your shoe this time, making you cringe and step away just a little. At first, you didn’t remember the name Hewitt either…until you remembered Thomas. The one boy in your class that never came to school, was always bullied or called names because of his face. Your eyes lit up as you made eye contact with him, a smile spreading onto your lips.

“Hewitt! Yes! I remember Thomas.” You said happily. If the Hewitt family was still here, then the town couldn’t be completely shut down, right?

This seemed to annoy Charlie in a way, his lip curling up into a sneer at the sound of Thomas’ name. “Course you remember that big oaf. Hard to miss ‘im.” He spat the rest of his chew onto the ground, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, “Where you plannin’ on stayin’?”

This made you sigh. You were hoping the little motel would still be open, but you’d just driven past it, and from the looks of it, its only residents were probably rats and roaches. “Well, actually…I probably have to drive back to Austin tonight. I didn’t know the town had…” you stopped talking, eyes landing on Charlie’s wrinkled face, not wanting to say anything rude about the hometown you shared.

“Gone under?” He broke out into a wheezy laugh, making it very clear to you that he’d probably been smoking like a chimney since you left. “Yeah. Not a lotta folks left. But Austin’s a long way and it’s gettin’ dark…not safe for a pretty little thing like you to be alone.” The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. You knew him…but he seemed …different. His eyes had a sinister glow to them, the way he stared down at your chest made you want to hop in your car and never come back. “Why don’t you come stay at the house? M’sure Luda Mae would love havin’ another girl around.” He took a step closer to you, eyes still focused where they shouldn’t be.

You spoke quickly, definitely quick enough to make your uneasiness known. “No, that’s okay…I really don’t mind driving back into the city.”

This seemed to amuse Charlie. “Oh, we insist. Tommy will be there…don’t think he’s seen someone like you in his whole life.”

For some reason, the mention of Thomas made you actually want to go. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but your memories of Thomas, while very little, were only fond. He was a big kid for his age, and very misunderstood, but always very kind and quiet. And…he did say there would be another girl there, right? So you wouldn’t just be alone with this creep. Maybe going to visit the Hewitt’s would be a nice walk down memory lane.

“Okay…sure. It is getting pretty late, I guess.” You agreed, making him smile and show off his stained yellow teeth.

“Perfect. Just drive behind me.” He told you, opening the door to his cop car.

The drive to the Hewitt’s home was longer than you’d thought, and their house was huge. As you parked behind Charlie, you stared up at the house in awe, seeing every single window illuminated. You supposed that with the entire town pretty much out of commission, they owned whatever property they wanted. Your shoes crunched against the gravel as Charlie led you inside, and the moment he opened the door, a feeling of discomfort settled deep in your stomach.

The house was cozy, but eclectic. Too eclectic, like every item inside belonged to a different owner at some point in time. It smelled like a mixture of expired perfume and rotting meat, a sickeningly sweet film settling on your sweaty skin, making it hard to breath inside the home. You stuck a smile on your face anyways, not wanting to seem rude as you were led into the dining room. It seemed as though you were interrupting dinner, everyone already seated in front of their bowls, full of some sort of stew. Your presence immediately turned heads, all six eyes fixed on you and Charlie standing in the doorway.

“Well I don’t believe it…” The lady whispered, who you immediately recognized to be Luda Mae. God, she’d gotten old. You remember her being old when you were in elementary school, and part of you wondered how she was still alive. Across from her sat an elderly man, who somehow looked twenty years older than her. He was sitting there, eyes on you but unfocused, like he was staring at the air between you and the table. Last to meet your gaze was Thomas.

Your heart sank when you saw him, or what was exposed. The leather mask covering his face upset you beyond reason. You knew that Tommy had been bullied for his looks when you guys were little, but never thought he’d make a custom mask to wear, even around his family, and at dinner for god's sake. That’s when it occurred to you, he wasn’t even eating.

“Found ‘er down by the old gas station lookin’ for a place to stay. Ain't she pretty?” Charlie asked, his voice low and predatory as walked towards his seat at the head of the table. The way he spoke about you, like you were just a piece of meat, made your skin crawl.

You gave everyone a polite smile and a little wave before speaking. “Well, I expected the motel to still be open…really, I can find somewhere else to stay, I hate to impose if-“

“Oh don’t be silly!” Luda interrupted. “We’d love to have you. You’ve just gotten so pretty…hasn’t she Tommy?” Your eyes shot to a very flustered looking Thomas, his eyes fixed on his steaming bowl of stew, still untouched.

“Please dear, have a seat, you’re just in time for dinner.”

To be completely honest…you didn’t want to eat their dinner. Something about the house and their demeanor made you want to leave, but if there was one thing you learned about growing up in Texas, it was to accept the hospitality.

“Thank you, Luda Mae.” You said softly, accepting the seat beside Thomas. Charlie scooped a full ladle of soup into a bowl and set it in front of you. With clammy hands you grabbed the spoon, noticing that none of their silverware matched. The spoon you had was delicate, handle slim with swirled details adorning the shiny silver.

All of the Hewitt’s stared at you with prying eyes as you scooped yourself a bite. It contained a chunk of meat, a carrot, and an onion, along with the broth they soaked in.

The moment that stew touched your tongue, you knew something was wrong. The meat tasted off, way too gamey. You’d had your fair share of meats, different kinds of game and homemade foods made with hunting prizes but this…unlike anything you’d ever tasted. It was tender, and didn’t taste bad, but the unfamiliar taste tainted the whole soup, causing alarm bells to go off in your head.

You were soon distracted by the sounds of the family scarfing down their own dinner, spoons hitting porcelain and lips smacking. In no time, your bowl was empty, and so was everyone else’s…except for Thomas’. But, this seemed normal among dinner time as Luda Mae cleared the dishes without a word.

“Tommy. Show our guest to ‘er room for the night, would ya?”

The wooden chair screeched against the floor when Thomas stood. He just seemed to keep going…he towered over you. You craned your neck to stare at him, mouth open and eyes widening. You stood from your own chair, noticing how much larger he was than you. You stood at his chest, and he easily doubled you in width.

Without a word he started walking past you, and you figured he meant for you to follow, so you did. The more you explored the house, the less cozy it got, and by the time you made it to the guest room, it was plain and simple, just a bed with white sheets in the middle of an empty room. Thomas stood at the door, taking up the entire entrance.

“Thank you, Thomas.” You said quietly, giving him a small smile that made him turn away from you. “It’s really nice to see you.”

The longer you stared, the more you realized that he was still the same old Tommy. A gentle giant with pretty brown eyes that sucked you in until you didn’t want to look away.

Just as you were getting lost in your thoughts, Charlie shoved Thomas aside, holding your bag that you’d left in your car.

“‘Ere you go, gorgeous.”

“Thanks, Charlie…” you said softly, grabbing the bag. That was nice of him, but you don’t remember giving him your car keys…

“My rooms just downstairs if you need anythin’.” Charlie sent you an uncomfortable wink, reminding you to lock your door tonight, and walked away. Thomas stood with his head down, still in the doorway.

“Uhm…goodnight, Thomas.” You said softly, a smile gracing your face again. This time, he looked at you. And you could’ve sworn that before you closed the door, his eyes crinkled, like he might’ve smiled too. You closer the door, and grumbled at the lack of a lock, finally getting ready for bed.

A shriek yanked you from your peaceful slumber, making you sit up straight in bed. Your heart was pounding, and you reached over to turn on the small bedside lamp. You were hoping it was just a nightmare, something you could just ignore and go back to the weirdly comfy mattress but the longer you sat there, the more you heard. Footsteps, whispering…but they sounded so frantic. Not like someone getting up for a glass of water or a midnight snack.

Slowly and hesitantly, you walked towards the door and pulled it open, bare feet finding every single splinter in the floor until you were finally in the hallway, staring down the stairs in the dark with wide, fearful eyes. Everything seemed fine…until a woman stumbled into your field of vision. She was bloody, open wounds on her back in an odd spot…did she just break into the house? She was near the front door and none of the Hewitt’s were with her. You stared at her, panicking, especially when you made eye contact.

Your blood went cold and you quickly backed up, barely hanging onto the banister.

“You have to help me, please! You have no idea what is going on here, we have to get out, you have to help me!” The girl started to ramble, but her voice was a whisper-like scream. Her bloodied hands hit the stairs and she began to crawl towards you.

You stared blankly, overcome by the fear and shock of seeing her inside the home…before you knew it, she made it to you. She gripped your ankle with a sticky hand, pulling you closer to the stairs. “Please!” She hissed, her eyes wide and crazed.

Instinctively, you tried to kick her hand away from you, pulling away. You felt your breathing speed up, panic overwhelming you. “Get off me!”

Her eyes flashed with realization, and she immediately recoiled. “You…you’re one of them…oh my god!” She wailed, voice full of dread and tears flowing down her cheeks. One of them? What did that even mean? This sorrow and dread only lasted a few seconds…before she turned to rage. Her face scrunched and it was like she’d been struck by lightning, body invigorated and suddenly strong enough to function. She stood and lunged at you, hands on your shoulders.

Your breath left your lungs as she slammed you against the wall, the back of your head aching in a way it never had before. In an attempt to get her off of you, you pushed her as hard as you could, feeling the slick blood on her shoulder and her neck where your hands hit her. Your eyes were closed tightly as you shoved, but it didn’t take vision to know what happened to her. Her body stumbled down the stairs, thumping all the way down, groans and grunts escaping her as she trailed blood all the way down.

You covered your mouth with your trembling hands…you’d just killed someone…you felt nauseous, you could feel your stomach turning as you stared at her body at the bottom of the stairs, laying limp. You prayed and prayed that she’d move, but she never did. A door slammed open from somewhere downstairs and that’s when you realized…

You’d just killed someone inside of someone else’s home. Tears rolled down your face and you slid down the wall to the ground, knees shaking and unable to support your weight anymore. Heavy footsteps approached the dead body at the bottom of the stairs…and Thomas came into your field of view. He stared nonchalantly at the woman, but turned to face you when he heard your sob.

“Thomas I’m so sorry I don’t know what happened…” you whispered, face bright red from crying and entire body shaking. Thomas stood still for a moment, but when he started moving, nothing could’ve stopped him. He knelt on the stairs in front of you, huge hand taking yours.

The warmth radiated through your fingers and up into your arms, making them feel less shaky and cold and traumatized. You stared up at Thomas, bleary eyes filled with tears, realizing that he wasn’t mad…or scared…he wanted to help you. Relief overwhelmed you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moving closer to him, arms wrapped around his broad waist, head buried against his chest. With your panicking, you barely noticed the fact he wore a button up and a leather apron, droplets of blood smearing against your cheek. You didn’t care. Thomas wrapped his tree trunk arms around you and held you against him…it was like nothing else mattered. Comfort washed over you and for a moment you felt like you hadn’t just killed a woman for no reason.

“S-she just attacked me, she jumped at me and grabbed me and she was yelling and-“

Thomas’ hand gently stroked your hair as if to shush you, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he held you as close as he could.

There was nothing that would stop him from being close to you. Not the three bodies in the basement, and definitely not the bitch that hopped off the hook.

[beanwaterontherocks]

Stress relief (Part 3)

(Hoshina Soshiro)

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x gn!Reader (they/them pronouns) Pt1 Pt2 Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x gn!Reader (they/them pronouns) Summary: Your feelings for Hoshina are becoming harder to ignore, you even find yourself jealous for a man you're not even dating. How dumb is that? There's no way he could feel the same. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, afab reader, handjob, oral (m receiving), swallowing, p in v sex, marking, biting, slight dom reader, jealousy, Word count: 4489

You put your coffee mug down and sat on the couch. Hoshina sat beside you, it was one of his rare days off and he chose to spend the afternoon with you. The thought made warmth bloom in your chest. 

“Who do you think the killer is?” You asked him, pointing to the novel next to his own cup of coffee. Hoshina hummed in an exaggerated manner and put a hand under his chin. You laughed as you leaned back. 

“I think the sheriff did it, he’s always nervous when they talk about the murder”, he said and you sighed in defeat. It’d taken you most of the book to figure that out before the reveal. 

“Note to self: don’t recommend Soshiro any more mystery books”, you chuckled, suddenly realizing the other officers in the break room were shooting you glances. The man was like a detective, had it really been that weird to say?

Oh, you had called him by his first name. 

You hadn’t even thought about it, but this was the first time you had called him that…outside of the bedroom. Hoshina just smiled, seemingly not phased by it. 

“I don’t mind, it’s fun and ya have good taste in books”, he spoke, making you forget about your embarrassment. You two were good friends, so maybe it wasn’t weird at all. But would a good friend kiss you as warmly as he’d done that morning? Your chest began to hurt, your feelings were bothering you a lot more now. 

The moth-like yoju flew towards you, its mouth wide open and displaying rows of jagged teeth. You never really got over how unsettling kaiju could look. Larger guns were inconvenient against smaller, speedier enemies. You raised your metal staff and shoved it straight down the kaiju’s throat and angled it so that it pierced through its back. 

“Oh nice, the kaiju-kebab!” One of your officers exclaimed as he pulled his knife out of another monster. 

“That’s so lame, I call it the ‘eat it, bitch’, really gets the point across”, another one spoke as she fired her handgun several times into the eye of a yoju. 

You swung your staff and sent another one flying into a wall, splattering it. You pulled out your handgun and shot the Kaiju between its bug eyes. “Don’t name my moves for me” , you said as you felt your earpiece buzz. 

“All yoju have been neutralized, beginning disposal”, Okonogi said from the operation room. 

“Moths don’t even have teeth…or mouths!” An officer complained as he poked a dead yoju with his boot. 

“Usually they aren’t the size of grizzly bears either, yet here we are”, you said as you returned your staff to the holder on your back. You met up with the Third Division as the disposal crew arrived. The crowd had parted and fences were already being set up to block off the area. Hoshina waved you over to him and you joined him. You all walked towards the cars as the citizens cheered for the Defense Force. 

You smiled, they really deserved this applause. You turned to Hoshina: “How’d it go with-“ 

“I love you, Vice Captain Hoshina!” Someone in the crowd yelled, cutting you off. You whipped your head around, suddenly feeling very irritated. Someone had just screamed what you’d been aching to say. You envied them, they could just say it without having to worry about the consequences. 

Hoshina waved at the person who had yelled, making their face flush. How nice for them. You felt a strong urge to grab Hoshina’s hand or lean in to whisper something to him. You picked up the pace to walk in front of him instead. One of your officers put a hand on your shoulder, maybe you had been frowning.

“Come on, Commander! Don’t get all jealous”, they laughed. Jealous? Who was jealous, what was there to be jealous of? “I’m sure you’ll get some fans of your own!”. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. 

Of course Hoshina would have fans, Defense Force officers were like celebrities here. While Captain Ashiro was one of the most popular, there certainly wasn’t a lack of Hoshina fans. Even just searching his name led you to several accounts dedicated to posting photos of him.

Your browsing also brought you to some…raunchier accounts. You really hoped those weren’t making him uncomfortable. As you continued to scour online, you felt frustration bubble up inside of you. Seeing people fawn over him made you grit your teeth. You shook your head, you shouldn’t blame them, you couldn’t. Hoshina was handsome, strong and, to their knowledge, single. 

No, he is single. You corrected yourself internally, even though it hurt. You weren’t his partner, there was no reason for you to feel like this. But even so, you closed your laptop and stood up. At least you could actually enact the fantasies they were dreaming about.

You caught Hoshina just as he was leaving the baths, he was clad more casually in a loose t-shirt and pants. With that tell-tale look in your eye, you asked him to follow you. He gladly did so and the two of you, once again, ended up in his room. 

“Ya sure are eager today, ya aren’t tired after that mission?” He asked, though his hands betrayed his words as he pulled you close. His skin was warm to the touch and he smelled pleasantly of soap. If only the baths weren’t shared, then you’d definitely join him for one. 

“Please, what kind of commander would I be if I got exhausted from that?” You spoke as you looked at his neck. The mark you’d left was fading, now just a pink patch of skin. But the fact that he wore something that showed it excited you. Did anyone notice and did they wonder who gave it to him? You longed for people to see the bruises and immediately know that they came from you. 

Without hesitation, you leaned in and sucked on his neck, right over the old hickey. Hoshina hummed in delight as his hands went up your back, pushing your shirt up. You reluctantly pulled away, taking a second to admire the new bruise as you pulled your shirt off.

"Ya sure do like my neck", he said teasingly as he ran his thumb over the purple spot, a satisfied smile on his lips. You tilted your head to the side and pointed at the remnants of one of his bites.

“You’re saying that?”

Hoshina's arms wrapped around your waist and he eyed the bed behind you. You realized as your lower bodies pressed together, he was already hard.

“I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya in the bath, ya looked so good after that mission”, he admitted breathily. You felt heat spread throughout your body, he’d just sat there, hard and thinking of you. You bit your lower lip, your head spinning at the image as you moved your hand down to feel him. Hoshina gasped, a bit surprised at your forwardness, but it quickly turned into a smile.

“You clearly didn’t do it there, but do you think about me when you get yourself off?” You questioned, palming his hardness through his thin pants. Hoshina exhaled shakily at your touch, but he kept a grin on his face as he whispered into your ear.

“It’s all I think about, all those cute noises ya make, how ya feel wrapped around me and the way ya look when-”, his sentence was cut short as he moaned when you stroked him harder. The heat between your legs was hard to ignore, but you were determined to see this through. Hoshina lifted his head and looked at you, eyes glimmering with mischief as he grinded against your hand. 

“Although it’s never as good as havin’ ya, just what have ya done to me?” He teased, making your heart pound. One hand slid down to the back of your thigh, dangerously close to your heat. A part of you wanted to give in to the seduction and let him have you. But jealousy was still clouding your mind, even if just for tonight, you wanted Hoshina to be fully yours. 

You pulled on his shirt, spinning the two of you and pushing him down onto the mattress. 

“Sorry Soshiro, but I did say it’d be your turn, I hope you don’t mind”, you said as you pulled his shirt off. His pants and underwear were pulled low on his hips, freeing his aching cock. You wrapped your hand around the base and began stroking him. 

“Ya really are spoilin’ me”, Hoshina said, followed by a pleased sigh as you teased the head “What’s the occasion?” You rolled your eyes at his comment as you pumped him faster. His cock was throbbing in your hand, beads of precum leaked out, making things slide easier. 

You faced him as you did it, thoroughly enjoying his expression. His cheeks were flushed as he tilted his head back. You couldn’t help but lean forward and suck at his throat, leaving yet another mark as you tightened your grip. Hoshina caught your lips in a deep kiss, his hand finding yours and he squeezed it tenderly. 

“How do you feel?” You asked, grinning as you sped up even more. Hoshina keened, raising his hand and softly holding the side of your face. His mauve eyes were gentle, his smile soft and sincere.

“So fuckin’ good, you’re so beautiful”, he said, panting at your strokes. Your heart pounded in your chest, this was all so intimate. You wanted to stay there, to keep pretending that this was love, but it pained you too much to remember that it wasn’t. Instead, you moved down his body and licked a stripe from the base to the head. He sighed sensually, still not letting go of your hand, but you didn’t want him to anyway. 

You took the head of his cock into your mouth, going deeper and caressing the part you couldn’t fit. His precum was salty on your tongue and he felt so hot. The sounds Hoshina made were driving you crazy, his bravado from earlier had melted away as he gave in. As you bobbed your head, longing to reach a hand down and touch yourself. You needed to hear him finish first, to know you’d done that to him. 

When you moved the tip of your tongue around the head, he throbbed and you glanced up at him. Hoshina was panting wildly, he wasn’t even like this during high-stakes missions and you were the one making him act this way. You shuddered when you felt his hand on the back of your head, but his touch was soft. 

“Yeah, that’s so good, keep goin’, I’m almost there!’”, he moaned. Despite how close he was, he never pushed you down further. You pulled back a bit and sucked around the head, locking eyes with him. You were acutely aware of the wetness that soaked through your underwear, but you’d deal with that soon. “I’m coming!” Hoshina exclaimed, calling out your name as you felt him finish in your mouth. 

You pulled off, keeping eye contact as you made a show, sticking out your tongue and then swallowing the saltiness pooled on it. His eyes went wide at your display. How did he like the taste of his own medicine? Clearly, he liked it a lot, because you were pulled down to him. 

“Didn’t I say it was your turn?” You asked, though there was no malice in your voice as Hoshina mouthed at your neck. 

“I’d love for ya to do that again but”, he said as he bit at your skin, leaving a stinging mark “I have to be inside of ya or I’m gonna lose it”. 

Who were you to deny a request like that? Hoshina sat up against the headboard and grabbed a rubber from the drawer. You stripped off your bottoms and underwear, feeling the cool air on your soaked cunt. He immediately grabbed your hips when you moved closer and put the tip to your entrance. You sank down onto him slowly, moaning as your hips met. He gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin. 

“Ya always feel so perfect”, he mumbled. You leaned against him and rested your head on his shoulder. 

“You too, Soshiro! You fill me so well”, you said, rocking your hips softly. You sighed as you began to move, grinding against him and feeling the way he hit your inner walls. Your toes curled as you felt him thrust upwards, hitting that spot. Hoshina’s arms wrapped around your waist, steadying you as he moved his hips. Your arms went around his neck, his heart beating right next to your own. 

You moved your hips to meet him, both of you moaning together. You pressed your forehead to Hoshina’s, looking into his eyes. You didn’t care if this was too intimate, you just needed to be close to him. You moved your hips in circles, making his breathing hitch. The way he filled you was nothing less than incredible. You raised your hips and sunk down onto him again with a whine. He moaned lowly when you repeated the motion, his hold on your hips tightened as he took over, grinding into you with a steady rhythm. 

“I’m so close already, ya really have ruined me”, Hoshina chuckled, placing a soft kiss on your jaw. He moved one hand down to rub your clit in tandem with his movements, making your legs shake. You felt your heart pound at his words. 

“If you’re ruined, then I’m fucking wrecked”, you gasped, thrusting your hips and chasing your release. 

“I'd love to see that”, he said, picking up the pace and thrusting up into you, going incredibly deep. He groaned in your ear and you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Your orgasm washed over you, leaving a sticky mess on Hoshina’s lap. He assured you that it’d just be a bit more. He pumped into your overly sensitive cunt and you felt him throb inside of you. Hoshina bit down on your shoulder, muffling his moan as he finished. 

You panted heavily, looking at the bite he’d left on you. It matched the red crescent shaped marks on his shoulders. You smiled, knowing you had marked him up thoroughly. Hoshina licked the wound softly and pulled out of you, laying you down on the bed. Your lips met in a warm kiss as you began to relax in each other’s embrace. 

The two of you cleaned up and crawled under the covers, spending the night in comforting arms once again. Hoshina hugged you from behind, his arms draped around your waist and his face pressed  into your nape. He placed a kiss just below your ear as you began to feel drowsy. 

“G’night, see ya tomorrow”, he whispered. You loved how gentle he could be, you loved his voice, you loved his jokes and you loved…

Fuck, you loved him. You truly loved Hoshina. 

“I can’t wait”, you said with all your heart. But worry grew in your chest, could you ever tell him how you felt without messing it up? 

'Hoshina didn’t think it’d turn out like this. Oh, who was he kidding? He should have known from the moment he kissed you, that he wouldn’t be satisfied with just hooking up. It was getting harder to ignore these feelings, to not want to jeopardize your whole relationship.

You were a formidable officer and a competent leader. You were always down to joke with him and not afraid to tease him back. Whenever he touched the marks you’d left on him, his chest would feel warm. It was like you’d marked him as yours. 

He wanted to be yours and he wanted you to be his just as much. He loved your smile, your laugh and how you’d hold him. He craved you, he wanted to make you happy and to have you by his side. 

“This just came in today”, Captain Ashiro said as she studied the document in front of her. 

“What is it?” Hoshina asked, snapping out of it and smiling like he always did. 

“A transfer request, another division is asking to recruit the Commander”, she said. Hoshina’s heart dropped at the news. Someone wanted to have you transferred to their team, away from him.

“Which division?” He questioned. The Captain handed him the paper.

“The Sixth Division”, she stated. Hoshina’s grip on the document tightened, curling the edges. Sure enough, it was a transfer request with your name on it. And his older brother’s neat signature at the bottom. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth. Hoshina wanted nothing more than to rip the paper to shreds and throw it in the garbage. He wouldn’t let Soichiro have you, he’d never let it happen.

But it wasn’t like he could just keep you from accepting the offer, he wasn’t your Vice-Captain. This was up to you and who was he to get in the way of your career as a commander? It wouldn’t be fair to keep you if you wanted to leave. He handed the paper back, the Captain looked at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“You’re acting like they have already accepted it, maybe you should hurry up and confess to them”, Ashiro sighed as she smoothed out the document. 

Hoshina was dumbfounded, had he really been that obvious this whole time? There was no point in denying it though, he had to face it, especially now. If he didn’t make a move, there was a chance you’d slip away from him. He couldn’t bear the thought of that. 

“What’s the plan?” Kikoru asked the other officers. The Commander’s entire platoon was here, along with some of the Third Division officers. 

“Well the goal of Operation Cupid is to get them together”, an officer from the other team spoke.

“That’s still a stupid name”, Iharu commented, earning an eye roll.

“Jealousy is a great motivator, who’s willing to flirt with the Vice Captain?” The officer asked, looking around the table. She was met with complete silence from both teams. 

“How about your Commander?” Minase asked. “That’s not me volunteering to do it though”, she quickly added.

“It's too weird for any one of us to do it, it'd be like flirting with your older sibling”, an officer said, shaking his head. Kikoru looked over at Kafka with crossed arms. 

“Hey, I’m not doing it, I’d like to live!”, the man exclaimed, putting his hands up defiantly.

“I think we need a new plan”, Reno sighed. 

You uneasily paced through the halls of the Tachikawa base. Your limit has been reached, you needed to tell Hoshina how you felt or it’d tear you apart. Today was an odd one though, your platoon was acting strange, randomly embracing you with exaggerated somber looks on their faces. You awkwardly patted the back of one of your officers as he sniffled.

“I’m going to miss you so much”, he spoke into your shoulder.

“Okay, but the vending machines are just over in the courtyard, I’m not going far” You said, were they pulling some kind of prank? Truth be told, whatever this was, it was funny to watch their bad acting so you didn’t question it. It did get your mind off things. 

You waved goodbye to Minase, who had grabbed your hands and thanked you for all the training tips you’d given her. Even the Third Division was acting like this. The courtyard was empty though, but the silence didn’t give you much peace. You sat down on the bench and opened your canned coffee, a second can next to you. If all went according to the plan you didn’t have, you could talk to Hoshina in the evening.

You had to, you didn’t want to keep doing this when you longed for something more. Maybe you were being selfish, he didn’t owe you anything. If he didn’t accept your confession then that was that and hopefully you could still be…just friends. 

“They’re bein’ so weird today”, a voice spoke and you looked up to see Hoshina standing by the vending machine. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d arrived, too in your own head. You focused on your can, taking a sip before answering him. No way you could face him right now. 

“Tell me about it, I’ve gotten so many hugs”, you said, chuckling lightly. Hoshina sat down beside you and you offered him the other coffee. 

“I’ve seen ya get so many hugs, ya really don’t know what this is about?” He asked you, opening his drink. You shook your head, looking over at him. Did he look…tense? The stillness of his shoulders and expression looked out of place on him, you didn’t like it.

“I have no idea, maybe they got into community theater?” You said, smiling at him and hoping it’d make him forget whatever was bothering him. Hoshina sipped the coffee and put the can down on the bench. 

“They’re really bad at it then”, Hoshina snickered, though he turned to look you in the eye. Maybe it was now or never, the two of you were alone after all and you felt ready. 

“I think we need to talk-”.

“We have to talk”. 

The two of you stared at each for a moment, you rubbed the back of your neck. It seemed like you both needed to get something off your chest. What could he want to talk about? 

“You can go first”, Hoshina spoke, his expression strained. You took a breath and turned to face him, leaning closer.

“I…” you clutched the can in your hand, your knuckles turning white, this was it. “I love you, Soshiro, I have for a long time and I wasn’t sure if I could keep going like this if I didn’t-”, your oncoming nervous rant was cut off by Hoshina. 

He closed the distance between you and pressed your lips together. You were shocked, but only for a moment, you melted into the kiss, threading your free hand into his hair. Hoshina sighed into the kiss. His hand went to your nape, rubbing circles into your skin as you kissed. When you pulled away he smiled, not the usual grin he wore, but a true, happy smile.

“That’s so unfair, I wanted to say it first”, he beamed and you couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh. He loved you too. 

“Well then you better get to it”, you teased, putting down your drink. Hoshina answered by embracing you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I love ya, I’ve loved ya for so long it was driving me up the wall”, he whispered, words just for you to hear.

Hoshina grabbed your hand when you walked back into the building. Holding hands while walking through halls made you feel giddy. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as the two of you walked into the cafeteria. Both a handful of Third Division officers and your platoon were gathered there, a few of them audibly gasping when they saw you. 

“Alright everyone, what was all that bad acting about?” Hoshina asked and you chuckled. 

“Mission failed successfully!” Iharu announced, followed by cheers from the others.

After explaining what they had been trying to do, everyone was given push-ups for trying to trick you. 

“I still think Captain Ashiro was in on it”, you stated as you entered the break room, putting down the cake box. You sat next to Hoshina, who proceeded to put an arm around you. Being affectionate in public like this made your face heat up, but you were so happy that you could do it now. 

“What makes ya say that?” He asked, using his free hand to pour the both of you some coffee. You hummed in response as you leaned against his shoulder. 

“Because I rejected that transfer request yesterday”, you stated, opening the box to reveal mont blanc and a slice of shortcake. Hoshina halted in his movements, his eyes widening a bit at your confession. 

“Oh, I didn’t know that”, he said. You turned to face him and placed a light kiss on his cheek.

“I’d have to leave my platoon behind and…”, you said and cuddled closer to him “I’d have to leave this behind”. Hoshina smiled, kissing your forehead.

“I’m happy ya chose to stay here, I really didn’t wanna let ya go”, he said, your heartbeat quickened, damn him, he knew how to make you flustered. 

“This is your favorite, right?” You asked as you put the cakes onto a plate. Hoshina nodded and took the spoon you offered him.

“I like mont blancs, though I couldn’t eat them all the time”, he answered, tasting the dessert with a pleased hum. 

“I get it, there’s really nothing you can eat a lot and not get tired of”, you said as you dug your fork into your slice. You paused for a second, before grinning at him. You spread your legs slightly and successfully caught his eye, you crossed them again. “Well, almost nothing”, you laughed, shooting him a wink. Hoshina’s hand slid down from your shoulder to your waist and you sighed in delight.

“Careful, maybe I’ll crave some of that later”, he warned, taking another bite of his dessert and making a show out of licking his lips. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you said as you took a forkful of cake, “Do you want some? Say ah”, you said as you put the fork by his mouth. Hoshina answered with a laugh, that cute laugh you loved so much. 

“A day into dating and you’re already pullin’ out the clichés”, he said as he kept snickering. But he ended up taking the bite, running his tongue over the points of the fork, licking up whipped cream as he looked into your eyes. You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling very warm despite the break room AC. “What are ya actin’ like that for? Can’t take what ya dish out?” He teased you as he took another spoonful of mont blanc.

 You turned and caught his lips, pushing him up against the back of the couch. When you pulled away, you caressed his neck with a smile, seeing a hint of a purple mark. 

“You’re right, mont blancs are good”, you said, recalling the sweet taste on his lips.

You realized something as you sat leaned against Hoshina’s chest. 

“Hey…isn’t this technically our first date?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He put down his coffee mug and hummed in thought.

“Huh, I guess it is, we really got the order wrong”, he said as he grinned. You rolled your eyes and found his hand, holding it gently.

“We did, but I’m glad we ended up like this after all”, you said. Hoshina cupped your cheek and your lips met in a tender kiss.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way”. You heard his heart thump against his chest, the joyful beat of it matching your own. 

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sundress

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Fluff, slight smut, no angst for once, slutshaming but not how you think)

She laughed freely at something his cousin said, all her nervousness from their journey to Texas leaving her little by little when his family embraced her as one of their own within minutes of meeting her. Oh and the alcohol helped too. He took her hand and played with her fingers as he sipped on his beer, smiling as he felt himself relax in the presence of the people who knew him the best.

It was unbelievable really, being back in Laredo not as the former sheriff who ran out on his bride but as a federal agent with a beautiful woman on his arm wearing his ring. She was here in a pretty sundress, sitting on the sofa in his home, laughing with his cousins as they shared embarrassing stories about him. Pops loved her, just as he expected and he just knew that if Ma was alive, she would love her too.

It could’ve just been his beer-addled mind, but he was so happy with her right there, right then that he would quit his job and just keep her right there in Laredo. He never liked the damn place, always wanted to break free and run off to explore the big bad world. But he also saw the appeal of a small town as he stared into the old picture of his parents on their wedding day. He wanted love like that. And he had it. He wanted to take care of the ranch with her, work where he lived so that he could slip into the house whenever he wanted to kiss her senseless. He wanted to wake up in the morning without worrying about going elsewhere for work and just bury himself in her warmth, make sweet love to her, have the big family he’s always secretly wanted.

“Why can’t I have a baby brother?” He recalled asking his parents, wishing to have a playmate at home. They’d tried. For many many years, they’d tried. But he didn’t know that. “It’s because you’re a naughty boy and I don’t have time for more naughty ones.” Ma said, pinching his cheeks before getting back to work with the newborn foal.

All his cousins had siblings and though he was close enough to them to not long for more kids his age to play with, he was jealous of them and angry at his parents. So he told himself all those years ago that when he was old enough, he would give his son a lot of little siblings to play with. It was stupid and childish really, but the sentiment hadn’t worn off over the years. He would like a big family someday. When they were away from all the dangers his job brought them.

Family and friends flitted out one by one, making Javier grateful that he didn’t have to kick them out to take his fiancé to bed. He loved his family and all but he had been around her for hours without being able to touch her inappropriately and that was getting to him. Kicking his family out to fuck his girl wouldn’t have been nice. And it wouldn’t have done well for his ‘Javi who left his fiancé at the altar’ reputation.

“I really like them,” she giggled as she cuddled into him on the sofa. He pressed a kiss to her lips and pulled back to find her smiling wide. He smiled back, unable to resist the infectious effects of her smile.

“Good. And they like you too. Especially pops.”

“Wooo!” She pumped her fist in the air, making him laugh. “‘S nice to have my future father-in-law’s approval.”

“Yeah well, let’s not rub it in my face,” he grumbled, recalling how unimpressed her father was with him. But he couldn’t fault the man. If his daughter came home with a guy who got shot at everyday for a living, he would be more than just unimpressed.

“Aww, Pobrecito,” she cooed before pressing wet kisses to his cheek. “He’ll come around. He’s just annoyed that you would be such a slut and have sex with his daughter under his roof before marrying her.”

“And whose fault is that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. She’d teased him all day, fucking grabbed him beneath the dinner table while carrying on conversation about work with her family.

“Whose fault?” She asked, making her eyes all soft and sweet just like the night she sneaked into the guest bedroom of her family home and begged him to fuck her. How was a man supposed to resist those sweet eyes and their filthy requests that contradicted their innocent act?

“Yours.”

“Mhmm?”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay then,” she said, smiling sweetly. Nothing good came out of that innocent act. “I’ll be a good girl tonight. I’ll take my bag to the guest bedroom. Sleep there for our entire week here.”

He rolled his eyes at her and snatched her bottle of beer before emptying the contents in one gulp. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easy.

“Rude!”

“Better rude than cruel, you absolute demon of a woman.”

“Cruel!? How dare you! I’ve been on my best behavior all day. I made your family fall in love with me faster than you made my family tolerate you. Miguel loves me so much that he would marry me if you didn’t. Linda invited me on a shopping trip and José didn’t move from me for hours.”

“José is two,” he said, laughing. Babies loved everyone, right? They were just innocent little creatures who loved everything. Or that was just what he told himself when his base instincts told him to take her to his room and put a baby in her immediately.

It wasn’t his fault. It was the goddamn sundress making her look all sweet and homely and just like something he’d want to put a baby in. He was going insane. Just the sight of her fitting in so well with his family and cradling his cousin’s kid while wearing a ring that declared her his was enough for him to stop thinking practically about all the things they needed to get out of the way before having kids.

“So? He loves me. I’m just so dang lovable,” she said, poking his chest with her index finger. “Not my fault that I’m perfect and you’re a big grump my father doesn’t care for.”

“He doesn’t hate me for being a grump. He hates me because he heard his innocent little girl screaming my name at night.”

“Asshole!” She gasped and shoved him away from her, but he returned right back and kissed her on the lips. Before she could call him more names, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, laughing as he felt her grab his ass immediately. Becoming boring was one of the reasons he didn’t want to get married, but with a girl like her who wanted him so openly, there wouldn’t be a boring day in his life.

“You make me fuck you in your family home, I get to have you fuck me in my childhood bedroom,” he said, carrying her to his room.

“Around all the posters of half naked women?”

“You offended, baby?” He asked, slapping her ass. He wasn’t the half naked women plastered all over his walls kind of guy anymore. But it made him feel giddy to think she might be…jealous?

“Nope! Just regretting taking down my John Wayne and Sydney Poitier posters. I had a John Wayne poster where he’s on a horse, wearing a cowboy ha—” she gasped as he dropped her on his bed.

“He was just a fake cowboy, baby. I’m the real deal. Got a ranch and all. I’ll put on the clothes if you want me to. Get on a horse, wear the damn hat. You want that?” He asked, hovering over her as she unbuttoned his shirt.

“I don’t know, Javi…” she tutted, twirling his hair around her finger. “You might look like a clown in it since you gave up the cowboy life to be a slut in Colombia.”

“I gave up the cowboy life to chase Escobar,” he corrected, giving her a pointed look.

“Yeah, but you spend more time being a slut than chasing Escobar.”

He pinched her ass, making her shriek and slap her hand over her mouth. “Javi! Don’t make me scream. I don’t want your dad to think badly of me!”

“Oh that’s one thing I can’t do, baby. Making you scream and making you cream comes naturally to me,” he said, making her gasp in horror. She had no reason to react so dramatically seeing that he’d definitely given her worse lines in the past. But it was fucking cute.

“Slut,” she chided, pushing him away but then pulling him down to her immediately. She gave him a peck on the lips before blessing the rest of his face with her kisses. It had him smiling like a kid, laughing like he used to when he was a permanent resident of this room.

“How many girls you fuck on this bed before me, Peña?” She asked as he shrugged his shirt off and got to work on her sundress. She looked pretty as hell in it, the white cotton with lemons printed on it giving her the look of the chaste woman she was not. But she looked the part in front of his family, hair down and neatly combed, pink on her cheeks and lips, and a pretty dress that made her look the part of a fiancée any group of Tias would approve of.

“You’re the first. The only one,” he said, pushing the elastic off her shoulders and kissing the swell of her breasts. He breathed in her distinct scent mixed with her sweat and took her breast into his mouth. She tasted salty from sweating, but he was not one to be disgusted by that. He came home to her sweaty and disgusting every damn night and she took him anyway. He buried his face between her breasts and took in her scent, groaning as his cock twitched in response.

Images of her with her knees bent by her head, still wearing the damn sundress as he drilled into her cunt filled his brain.

“Riiight. Totally believe that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t trust me? You’re the only girl— woman, on this bed.”

“I don’t believe you. I know for a fact that you were a slut in high school.”

“Oh I was,” he agreed, hand diving beneath her skirt. “But I never brought girls back here. I sneaked into their bedrooms and sneaked out when we were done.”

“Of course you did,” she laughed, fucking herself on his fingers. It was sweet, having her in his family home, learning more about him and being delighted in what she found.

“It’d been a fantasy for a while actually, to bring a girl home, sleep with her on my bed. I just hated having to pull my pants up and run out before my girlfriend’s parents caught us and shot me.”

“You absolute menace!” She scolded and shook her head. He wondered if she would’ve given him her time of day had they gone to school together. He was quite the lanky kid with none of the muscles of his current body that she loved so much. He didn’t have much game either, not enough to impress her at least. She was a big city girl and all he knew at fifteen was Laredo and its oppressive walls. The Agent Javier Peña of now had slipped a diamond ring on her finger, but Javi from Laredo would’ve made a fool out of himself trying to get her to just talk to him.

Or not.

Maybe she would’ve liked him back. Maybe stupid boys with the worst pickup lines and too much confidence were her teenage self’s type.

“Would’ve sneaked into your room too,” he teased, bunching her skirt up at her waist before sucking her clit between his lips.

“Javi!” She squealed and not from pleasure. He apologized for hurting her with his desperation and placed a gentle kiss on the nub.

“My dad would’ve killed you for sure,” she said, running her hand over his arm. He flexed his muscles for her benefit and she took his offer, lavishing his arm with attention before moving a hand down his back as far as she could reach.

“Worth it for this pussy.”

He spent the night with his head between her legs, making her cry his name into her hand and then his pillow. In his head, he gave Javi from two decades ago a pat on the back. He’d gotten out of Laredo like he always wished, no matter the circumstance. He landed a pretty girl who wanted to fuck just as much as he did. He had love like his parents. He’d have a wedding he wouldn’t walk out on and someday maybe the grandchild his dad mentioned in passing.

Life was good.

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.

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Series Masterlist