#I will now tag every driver I think this is applicable to

[finifugue]

'the F1 movie needed to have Brad Pitt fuck his female engineer because there needed to be sexual tension!' BORING. If they wanted sexual tension they should've made it historically accurate and true to real life and had Brad Pitt fuck his teammate

[wandaslovey]

ᴍʀꜱ. ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴏꜰꜰ ᴡɪʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴡ

➺ dom!wandanat x sub!fem!reader

word count ~ 7k

authors note: i’m so excited to share this with you guys - this was so much fun to write! i’m planning on writing the first few parts as chapters where one will pick up right after the other and then once i get to a certain point i’ll do random time skips within the same au. oh also! i’m starting a tag list, so comment below if you’d like to be included on the next chapter! enjoy loves! 💕 as usual, this is not proofread.

content warning(s): legal age gap (w=30, n=33, r=23), natasha and wanda being two hot intimidating lawyers (except natasha kinda steals this show in this part, especially in the beginning. don’t worry though, wanda will have her time to shine!), conversation about kinkery and reader knows very little

if you’d like to read the drabble that inspired this series, click here

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you stand in front of the mirror, adjusting your white button-up blouse for the 10th time. you huff, frustrated that your wardrobe just wouldn’t cooperate with you this morning. as you look yourself over in the mirror—the rest of your outfit consisting of a mid-thigh black pencil skirt, some black nylons and black combat boots—you couldn’t help but wonder if your attire was okay for the interview.

the interview…you can’t believe you landed an interview at thee M.R. law firm. you knew how unqualified you were for the position, so you felt extra pressure to compensate somehow with your appearance.

you turn to the side in the mirror, first left and then right, scrutinizing yourself at every angle. you readjust the pieces of hair framing your face that you pulled out of your bun, before deciding you’d done all you could to look your best.

you glance at the clock on your nightstand in the reflection of the mirror, seeing it was time to go. you grab your knock-off brand purse and slip out of your apartment. when you walk down the stairs and open the door to the outside, the noise from the city fills your ears. the sounds of cars, horns, sirens, music and people all blended together, creating a sort of hum all new-yorkers were familiar with. you step out onto the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding some tourists that were taking a picture in front of the trendy restaurant you lived by. you hail a cab, quickly sliding into the backseat and telling the driver your destination.

now that you were settled in your seat with only the taxi drivers quiet music to distract you, the nerves you’d been attempting to snub out suddenly hit you full force. there was no way you could do this. you were sure you were just wasting your own time and the poor person who had to interview you. you knew your 6 months working as a receptionist at a dentist office nowhere near qualified you to manage things at M.R. law. you mentally curse yourself, thinking you must’ve been half asleep and entirely too desperate when you sent in your application at this place. you needed a job though—urgently. with your roommate moving back home, and no one else taking her place, you were stuck with paying the rent on your own. on top of that, you were still paying back loans for school. you knew you should cut your losses, leave new york and transfer to a much more affordable school, but you really wanted to stay as much as you could help it.

every stoplight you hit along the 20 minute drive only makes you more nervous. the fluttery feeling in your stomach turns into full blown pterodactyls by the time the driver has pulled up to the very tall M.R. building. you pass some folded up cash to the driver, mumbling out a quiet ‘thank you,’ and then step out of the car. you stare up at the intimidating building, the lettering of “maximoff-romanoff law” taunting you—daring you to step inside. you let out a stubborn exhale, squaring your shoulders and walking in with a confidence as fake as grape flavored candy.

you stride over to the front desk, noticing that the only employees in sight are all women.

“hi, i’m here for an 11 o’clock interview,” you tell one of the women behind the desk. she offers you a polite smile, giving you instructions to head into the elevator and up to the 8th floor. you nod your head, thanking her and make your way to your doomsday interview.

as the elevator doors shut behind you, you find yourself all alone in the small space. there was no background music to distract you now. you stare at the floor, noticing a slight glint to the black tiles you were standing on. you listen to the beeps counting up each floor, your eyes dragging up the stainless steel panel when the number reads 8 and the final beep sounds. the doors open and you’re immediately greeted with the sight of more women pacing around the place. some seemed to be in a rush while others were leisurely walking across the floor while chatting with a co-worker. you walk over to the front desk again, repeating what you had told the other kind lady downstairs. she gestures for you to take a seat on the couch in the waiting area, letting you know someone will grab you in a few minutes.

you take a seat on the black leather couch, figuring this piece of furniture probably costed more than the rent for your apartment. you cross your legs, interlocking your fingers together at your knee. you glance around the office, taking in the decor. it was very tasteful, some touches of greenery that went nicely with the black and dark woodsy vibe this floor was going for. you try your best to ignore the bile rising in your throat and the pterodactyls still swarming in your stomach. it was a good thing you didn’t eat breakfast this morning.

as two minutes turns into ten, and then fifteen, you can’t help but feel the urge to just get up and leave. you felt so out of place here; you couldn’t imagine working at this place with all these women who were so obviously out of your league.

just as you were settling on the idea of ditching this interview, you hear clacking footsteps making their way over to you. you didn’t dare look up yet, pretending to be very interested in the tiny hole in your pantyhose just above your knee.

“miss (y/l/n)?” the most heavenly, sultry voice calls out to you. your eyes slowly trail along the tile, up the woman’s legs covered in black slacks, her blouse and matching black suit jacket, and then finally her face. it was her.

thee mrs. romanoff.

mrs. romanoff was the person who was going to interview you? you couldn’t believe your eyes, or the situation. you clear your throat, realizing you had yet to acknowledge her calling out to you.

“yeah, that’s me,” you reply, standing on slightly wobbly legs. you watch as mrs. romanoff’s eyes slowly take in your appearance, her eyes lingering on your frame. you feel a little scrutinized, wondering if you really did mess up with what you were wearing.

“follow me.” she turns and leads the way. you stumble a bit as you follow behind her, not expecting her to have as long of a stride as she does.

“you’ll have to forgive me for the wait—we had a couple meetings run over this morning,” she talks to you over her shoulder, slowing her walk a little when she notices you’re not directly behind her like she thought.

“oh, no worries. i didn’t mind the wait.” that was technically a lie, but it wasn’t the wait that bothered you as much as the fact that you were left alone with your thoughts a little too long.

she rounds a corner at the end of the hall, pausing and gesturing for you to enter in one of the two doors that were side by side on the wall to the right. you walk through the doorframe, stepping into what you assumed was her personal office.

“have a seat, miss (y/l/n),” she says in a low voice, walking from behind you and around her desk to sit in her chair. you sit in one of the two chairs across from her, your heart thudding violently in your chest from being in such close proximity to her.

you adjust your seating position three times before finally settling in place, forcing yourself to sit still. mrs. romanoff humors you, remaining silent and patient through your nervous fidgeting.

“so, i have to say i was a little surprised to see your application come through to my desk,” she starts and you immediately feel your cheeks grow hot, the feeling of being in a place you don’t belong filling your whole body with dread.

she pauses, and you realize she was waiting for you to respond. right. this was supposed to be where you attempt to prove yourself adequate to work in this position.

“yes, um… well, admittedly i myself did think it was a stretch to apply here, but then i figured, i’m a fast learner, i’m very thorough in all i do and i enjoy learning new things. i thought i’d try my hand at something i haven’t done before.” you rattle off an answer that while it was true, it was also something you rehearsed 20 times in the mirror while getting ready before you got here. you were almost positive the slight robotic edge in your voice was noticeable.

mrs. romanoff hums in acknowledgment, nodding slightly at your rehearsed answer. “how well can you handle multi-tasking in a fast paced environment?” her lack of acknowledging your first answer puts a damper on your already fake confidence. you shift in your seat again, finding it harder to maintain eye contact with the sea of green that was her eyes.

“i would say i fare pretty well. i’m usually very good at managing stressful situations.” that was a complete lie—but most people bullshit their way through interviews, don’t they?

“usually?” she echoes, tilting her head to the side. she purses her lips, half attempting to hide a small smirk. she easily picked up on all your nervous antics the moment she saw you. you averting her gaze, walking unsteadily, fidgeting in your seat and the cute rose-y blush currently coloring your cheeks.

you clear your throat, interlocking your hands together in your lap. you notice they’ve already started to feel damp with sweat. “yeah, yeah most of the time i’d say so.”

“well, miss…” she glances down at what appeared to be your application and resume sitting in front of her on the desk. “(y/n)..you don’t sound very sure of yourself.” she sits upright in her chair, crossing her arms and leaning over the desk. your heart beats impossibly faster, the feeling of intimidation settling deep into your bones.

“no, i mean, i am sure—totally 100%.” you try to laugh, but it comes out sounding as nervous as you feel.

“okay, if that’s how you’d like to proceed…” she trails off, looking down at the papers in front of her again. you didn’t know what she meant, but your eyes fall desperately to the same papers she was looking at, as if they could provide some sort of answer to you. “what are your greatest strengths and weaknesses?”

you internally breath a sigh of relief. this was another answer you’d rehearsed in the mirror, it just needed to sound less robotic this time. “i’d say my greatest strengths are, i’m very punctual—i’m always on time if not early—um, i do all things thoroughly, as i mentioned before…i’m very reliable—hardly sick or need time off for family things, and i enjoy a good challenge. my greatest weakness is that i like to be very organized and sometimes i can spend a little too much time completing a certain project before moving onto the next.” you exhale after you finish talking, your eyes flicking across her face to try and get a sense of how she’s taking in your answer.

as you speak, you can’t help but notice that she was watching you so meticulously. it seemed that she was taking in not only your words, but your facial expressions, hand gestures and body language.

she looks at you for a moment as if she’s thinking hard on something. without taking her eyes off of you, she presses a button on her desk, the small ding from an intercom sounding. “joan, please track down mrs. maximoff and have her come into my office right away.”

your heartbeat now thrums loudly in your ears, your breath picking up its pace. you were not only going to be in the presence of mrs. romanoff but now mrs. maximoff too? never in your life had you seen such a powerful couple—and that was only in photos and billboards you’d seen around the city!

“is everything okay?” you ask nervously, feeling the permanent blush on your cheeks travel to the tips of your ears.

“everything’s fine, (y/n),” she gives you a smile but it was anything but reassuring. in fact, there was something about the expression that felt more intimidating with how devastatingly beautiful she was.

she grabs a pen and starts writing something on the paper. whatever it was was brief, but you couldn’t see clearly from your seat.

a quiet knock comes from the door and your posture becomes rigid as you hear who you assume to be mrs. maximoff entering the room.

“you called for me?” mrs. maximoff asks as she walks the length from the door to mrs. romanoff’s side. she walks around your chair and stands next to her wife, placing her palm flat against the desktop and leaning some of her weight on it.

“yes, i wanted you to meet our new interviewee,” she smiles with her lips and gestures to you in your seat. you look between the two beautiful, impeccably dressed women, feeling extremely small and insignificant. mrs. maximoff turns to look at you for the first time, a warm smile gracing her features.

“hi,” she offers simply, extending her hand to shake yours. you sit forward, reaching your arm out to shake her hand across the desk. her hand was incredibly soft and a little cold to the touch, but you wouldn’t expect anything less since the office was kept at such a cool temperature.

“mrs. maximoff is going to sit in on the rest of our interview. is that okay with you?” mrs. romanoff asks, her eyes daring you to object.

you quickly shake your head from side to side, shifting once again in your chair. “no, no that’s perfectly fine,” you reply easily, though you were feeling anything but fine. you notice mrs. maximoff giving her wife a curious glance but she doesn’t otherwise question it.

“let’s move over to the couches so we’re a little more comfortable,” mrs. romanoff stands up and heads over to the long olive green velvet sofa. you follow suit, except you take a seat in the smaller sofa, designed for only one person. mrs. maximoff sits closest to you on the long couch, brushing some of her pretty brown hair behind her shoulder. you watch as she glances back at her wife, mrs. romanoff giving her a certain look that you weren’t sure what it meant.

“so, (y/n), tells us what your career goals are,” mrs. romanoff proceeds with the interview as if the interruption never happened. you find yourself even more nervous to respond now that there were two, hot, older women sitting before you.

“umm…for now i really just need something steady that will simultaneously be giving me good work and life experience.. long term though, i’d like to become a therapist once i finish my masters program.” you bite your tongue once you finish your sentence, realizing this is not the sort of job where you tell your interviewers you’d like to pursue something that has nothing to do with their company.

“what appeals to you about becoming a therapist?” mrs. maximoff chimes in, tilting her head to the side curiously, just like mrs. romanoff had done earlier in the interview.

you lean back in your chair, a little surprised at her interest in your reply. “well, it’s a cliche answer, but i’m very passionate about helping people. it’s impossible to go through this life without getting seriously hurt and dealing with trauma. the vast majority of us have no idea how to cope or process through our experiences, so just knowing what i know, i’d like to try and be of some help for those who need it.”

the two lawyers look at you thoughtfully, mrs. maximoff nodding her head as you speak.

“that’s a very admirable passion. are you currently enrolled in a masters program?” she asks, crossing one of her legs over the other as she gets more comfortable in her seat.

“i am,” you reply with a shy smile. you never wanted to come across as bragging about your education, so you always sought to speak about it in the most humble way.

“you like school?” mrs. romanoff chimes in, leaning forward as she speaks.

your smile turns a bit rueful as you reply. “yes..i do. i know so many young people my age loathe school and all the hard work that needs to be put in, but…i love everything about it. i love taking notes, making flashcards, studying, taking tests, everything about it, i just love. i know it sounds a little crazy.” you laugh once, suddenly feeling more relaxed as you speak about something so genuinely. you feel a little more surprise again as you hear mrs. romanoff chuckle with you, nodding her head towards her brunette wife.

“sounds like somebody i know. this one here was a school addict. i had to practically pry textbooks out her hands just so we could do anything other than study,” she chuckles again, mrs. maximoff joining in with her.

“i won’t apologize for being so pointed about my studies. we both got straight A’s, didn’t we?” she jokes light-heartedly and you find yourself smiling warmly at their light banter.

mrs. maximoff turns back to face you, a smile still touching her lips. “what else do you do aside from school?” her question makes your face fall slightly as you now had to admit you were technically unemployed. you knew that didn’t look good for potential employers.

“right now, not a whole lot. just keeping busy with my studies,” you respond vaguely to which they both hum in response.

the pair of them continue asking you questions, except they become progressively more personal until they don’t attain to work or working at this position at all.

“do you like living alone? or do you prefer living with others?” was one of the questions mrs. romanoff asks you after you had explained you were currently without a roommate.

even though it was strange, you find that the more you talk about yourself, the more relaxed you feel. mrs. romanoff and mrs. maximoff both noticed it too. they could see more of your personality showing through as the nerves slowly but surely dissipated.

it had been near 40 minutes by the time mrs. romanoff checked her watch and noticed the time. she looked at her wife, mrs. maximoff seeming to sense her eyes on her as she automatically looked to the side. they shared a look, one of them nodding to the other before turning back to face you.

“well, we’ve kept you here much longer than was intended—i apologize for that.” mrs. romanoff says as she stands, mrs. maximoff following suit. you stand also, smoothing your skirt back over your legs. as you stand so closely to them now, you notice how they were both taller than you by a few inches, making you feel small again like you had earlier.

“it’s no big deal. i’m in no rush,” you smile shyly as you look up at the two of them. you extend your arm out, shaking both of their hands before getting ready to leave. they both give your hand a gentle squeeze and when mrs. romanoff shakes your hand, she grasps on longer than her wife, holding your gaze with a certain intensity.

“we’ll be in touch, miss (y/n),” she says smoothly, calling you out by your first name, and for some reason the combination between her voice and her eye contact made your knees feel weak.

you swallow thickly, nodding your head and thanking them both for the interview before turning away. mrs. maximoff leads you to the door to exit and walks you all the way out to the elevators. you pace the short distance in somewhat comfortable silence. when you turn to face her to say your final goodbye, your surprised to see mrs. romanoff behind her. she was following so quietly that you didn’t notice her presence.

“bye! thank you again,” you smile, stepping into the elevator once the doors open. the two women stand side by side of each other, giving you a near identical smile which portrayed some sort of knowing behind it, almost like they were expecting something.

“it was a pleasure meeting you miss (y/l/n),” mrs. maximoff calls out to you as the elevator doors slide closed.

you exhale a breath you didn’t now you were holding, slumping back against the elevator walls.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

that evening, you cook up a box of mac n cheese, too lazy to try and find the ingredients to make anything else. not to mention, your mind was still a little bit jumbled after your interview with thee lesbian power couple.

mrs. romanoff’s words kept echoing in your head.

”we’ll be in touch” she’d said. but didn’t your interview totally blow? especially at the end. it wasn’t so much an interview but rather more like a conversation where people try to get to know each other better. maybe they were looking for a personality hire? you really doubted that though.

you eat your mac n cheese while staring blankly at the wall, thinking over the whole exchange with mrs. romanoff and mrs. maximoff. as you mindlessly feed yourself spoonfuls of your dinner, you realize you didn’t even know their first names. you remembered you had once seen them on a billboard somewhere but didn’t remember exactly what they were. mrs. romanoff’s first name was natalie or something similar? you were at a loss with mrs. maximoff. you decide to google them to put your curiosities to rest.

pulling out your phone, you google their names and the law firm. after doing just a little bit of digging, you see their full names: natasha romanoff and wanda maximoff. ah, so you were close with mrs. romanoff’s name. you wonder if they only go by their last names at the office. it definitely seemed like their vibe to have things be so professional.

as you go throughout the rest of your evening, showering and getting ready for bed, you continue thinking about them. the longer your mind lingers on them, the less “professionally” you think about them. you couldn’t help but notice how utterly beautiful they both were. they both carried themselves with a confidence that anyone would find intimidating. there was something so forceful about their presences, but not necessarily in a bad way. it seemed like natasha—mrs.romanoff—was a little more rough around the edges, but you could see she easily held a soft spot for her wife and life partner. mrs. maximoff gave off a much more approachable vibe, but she was still intimidating in her own way.

as your mind continues wandering, you find yourself becoming more tired before you finally drift off to sleep, your brain fatigued from all your analytical thinking.

『 °*• ❀ •*°』

the first thing you notice when you wake up is the light shining through your thin curtains. you blink a few times, slowly adjusting to the light. you blindly reach over to your nightstand, unplugging your phone from the charger. as you unlock your phone, you notice a missed call from an unknown number nearly two hours ago. you shoot up into a sitting position in your bed, suddenly feeling much more awake. it was just passed 10 am. was the unknown number a call back about your interview?

your fingers furiously swipe on your phone, quickly googling the number for M.R. law. you breath a sigh of relief when you cross reference the digits in your phone and the number online, realizing it was just a random unknown caller. you let your body fall back limply on the bed, your leg dangling off the side as you clutch your phone to your chest. that would’ve been humiliating if they called offering you the job and you didn’t pick up the phone.

as you go about your morning leisurely—not having any classes this day—you try to push the two hot lawyers out of your mind. there was no point in dwelling on them if you’d never hear from them again.

you leave your face bare of makeup, not intending on leaving the apartment and you opt for wearing comfy clothes—or “frumpy” clothes as you called them—instead of something nice.

you head into the kitchen, pouring yourself a bowl of frosted flakes cereal. you let it sit there for a few minutes to soak up the milk, as soggy cereal was your favorite. you’d argue with anyone who claimed crunchy cereal was best. as you wait, you power up your laptop, intent on working on some homework.

you’re munching on your cereal, blue-light filtered glasses adorning your nose as you work on your computer screen. you were mid-bite when you hear your phone buzzing on the counter next to you. you glance down at your phone and frown slightly when you notice it looks to be the same unknown number from earlier.

you continue chewing your bite, raising the phone to your ear as you accept the call.

“hello?” you ask, your voice mumbled a bit as you still had some food in your mouth.

“good morning, miss (y/n),” you hear a warm, velvety voice greet you. after almost an hour interview with her yesterday, you’d recognize this distinct voice anywhere.

“mrs. romanoff?” you just about choke on your food as you swallow, your body tensing slightly as you feel much more alert.

“that would be correct.” you hear her chuckle softly into the phone, your tone laced with obvious surprise she must have found endearing.

“i’m so sorry! i think i missed your call earlier? i didn’t recognize the number- i had no idea it was you, i’m sorry!” you apologize quickly, thinking that if she was actually calling to offer you the job, you might have just ruined it.

“don’t worry about it. i would be surprised if you recognized it given that this is my personal number,” her voice was low and warm. it was entirely too enticing.

“oh.. umm, right. well, good morning,” you stumble slightly over your words, unsure what else to say to her.

“are you normally a late riser?” she asks with humor in her voice.

“what? oh no, not normally no. i just don’t have classes today,” you explain, a little embarrassed at her having called you out on your sleeping habits.

“i see. well, we just wanted to call and ask if you’d meet us for a coffee,” her question came out as more of a statement and you were left wondering why on earth she would want to go out for coffee with you and…wait.. did she say we?

“we?” the words echo aloud from your mind.

“yes. my wife and i,” she reiterates calmly. you look around your small excuse for a kitchen as if the reasoning behind her posing this question was written on the walls.

“like today?” you ask stupidly. of course she meant today.

“yes - today. can you meet us in 15? we’re going on lunch break. i’ll text you the address.” your eyes zip to the digital numbers plastered on the microwave. you only had 15 minutes to try and look presentable, get a cab and meet them.

“ummm..yeah. yeah sure,” you nod your head as if she could see you through the phone. you quickly hop off the stool you were sitting on, walking briskly to the bathroom with the phone still held firmly to your ear.

“perfect. we’ll see you soon.” she hangs up and you all but toss your phone on the bathroom counter, staring down at the device as if it’s offended you. you quickly snap out of it, only having 5 or so minutes to un-hobo yourself. you quickly apply some concealer on your dark spots, powder on a little blush and brush on a coat of mascara in record time. in your haste, you stumble from the bathroom to your closet, trying to find something to quickly throw on. you grab a simple white baby tee, putting it on and then aggressively stepping into some loose light wash jeans. grabbing your belongings, you half jog out the door, nearly slipping down the last two stairs of your apartment.

you quickly get a cab, thanking whatever higher power there is in your head that there was very little delay in one driving by. as the taxi driver takes you to the address you gave him, you sit forward in your seat, gathering your hair in a pony tail near the top of your head. you secure it with an elastic you always keep around your wrist and pull some pieces out to frame your face. you glance in the cab rear view mirror, seeing you looked fairly presentable. you exhale shakily, sitting back in your seat as the same nerves you felt yesterday on the way to your interview were coming back now.

what was this about? i mean, you knew it wasn’t normal to meet with potential employees for coffee. it was especially suspicious because it was mrs. romanoff *and* her wife.

your thoughts are interrupted as the taxi slows to a crawl and he pulls up to the coffee shop. you’d never been to this one before, granted there were hundreds of shops all over the city so there were probably many you hadn’t gone to. your heart leaps in your chest as you see both mrs. romanoff and mrs. maximoff waiting outside for you.

you pass the driver the money, thank him and slip out of the car. as you step onto the sidewalk, mrs. maximoff greets you with the same warm smile she’d given you when you first met. mrs. romanoff smiles too, though it’s not as wide as her wife’s.

“hello again, (y/n).” your heart skips a beat as you hear mrs. maximoff use your first name for the first time. mrs. romanoff had been calling you by your first name since you’d stepped foot into her office. you liked the way your name fell from both of their tongues.

“hi, good to see you both again,” you smile despite your nerves, making eye contact with both of them in a polite manner.

“shall we?” mrs. romanoff suggests as she opens the door for you, her wife placing a gentle hand on the small of your back to usher you inside. you inhale shakily, the unexpected contact surprising you in a pleasant way.

as the three of you file in behind the small line of people waiting to order, your eyes skim the menu, even though you already knew exactly what you wanted.

“cute outfit,” mrs. romanoff murmurs from behind you. you could hear what sounded to be amusement in her tone but you weren’t sure.

you turn to the side to face her, her being on your left and mrs. maximoff on your right just a half-step behind you. “thank you. i threw it on—literally. i was wearing something a lot less presentable when you first called.” you glance down at both of their outfits. the duality between yours and their outfits was almost laughable. they looked impeccably fashionable and you were just in street clothes.

wanda chuckles lightly at your comment. “what were you wearing before?” she asks.

“just an oversized tee and some biker shorts,” you shrug, crossing your arms casually over your chest. you always felt more comfortable when you had your arms wrapped around yourself.

as the line moves and you’re next, mrs. romanoff quickly stands in front of you, her body moving between you and the counter. “what’ll you have?” she gives you an expectant look, ready to give your order.

“an iced mocha?” you ask a little shyly, her show of putting herself between you and the cash register did something to you for some reason.

she nods, and turns to the barista, repeating your order along with hers and her wife’s. you’re about to protest, wanting to tell her she doesn’t have to pay for you, but you feel mrs. maximoff’s hand return to the small of your back, swiftly maneuvering you away from the line and over to the small cluster of tables.

you sit down in a chair she pulled out for you and you scoot yourself in as mrs. maximoff settles in her own seat across from you.

“you really don’t have to pay for me, you know,” you pipe gently, glancing over at mrs. romanoff who was standing at the counter waiting for the drinks before you turn back to mrs. maximoff.

“of course not, we want to. plus, neither her nor i would ever allow you to pay for yourself even if you insisted,” she smiles winsomely, her eyes gleaming with something warm and bright.

mrs. romanoff returns with all three coffees, somehow handling all three and setting them down in a graceful manner.

“thank you,” you give mrs. romanoff a gentle smile as your fingers interlock around the cup and you drag it closer to you.

they both take a sip from their coffees—which were both hot—before mrs. romanoff clears her throat, her eyes narrowing in on you as she leans forward on the table.

“so, i imagine you’re wondering why we asked you here.” she throws a glance at her wife who was already looking at her speak.

“it may have been on my mind…” you trail off, sounding as innocent as possible.

mrs. romanoff smiles knowingly, her eyes appraising you in a way that made you squirm slightly in your seat.

“it’s not about the job, as i’m sure you might have figured, but rather about offering a different type of position,” she begins. your brow furrows in confusion. what did she mean?

“a different position? like a cleaning job or something?” you immediately go to thinking about jobs that require little to no experience, figuring that might be all they’d have to offer given your background.

they both laugh at your guess, mrs. romanoff being the one to shake her head no.

“no, not a cleaning job,” she pauses, seeming to measure your expression before continuing. “(y/n), have you ever heard the term bdsm?”

your face goes blank and you look from mrs. romanoff to her wife who appeared to be watching you just as carefully.

“um…i think so? i’ve heard the term a few times before.” your legs feel like they’ve turned to jelly, an unfamiliar pit settling into your lower tummy at the abrupt shift in the topic of conversation.

“what do you know about it?” mrs. maximoff chimes in, tilting her head to the side which causes some of her neatly curled hair to fall forward.

you look between the two of them, unconsciously shrinking further down into your seat. this was such a taboo subject to talk about it public; you found yourself already growing warm from just the thought of this discussion.

“well, it’s..sex stuff…right? like being tied down and whipped?” you speak hesitantly in a small voice, throwing quick glances at the strangers littered across the coffee shop.

“those things can be a part of it, yes—if all parties discuss that’s something they like to participate in” mrs. romanoff explains and then continues. “what else have you heard about it? or is that the gist of what you know?”

you shrug, your shoulders slumped forward and your head bowed slightly to try and obscure your flushed cheeks. you suck your bottom lip into your mouth—your nervous habit.

mrs. maximoff pipes in again after noticing your bashfulness. “a lot of people have that imagery in mind when they hear the term ‘bdsm,’ so it’s understandable that that’s your impression. there is so much more to it though. really, bdsm is about exploring people’s sexual interests in a safe space. you learn about your limits, what you like, what you didn’t expect to like, and so much more.” you listen to her explanation intently, your mind immediately wandering and wondering where this conversation was going to go.

mrs. romanoff picks up off her wife’s words. “some people simply dabble in certain aspects of bdsm while others treat it more as a lifestyle—and for my wife and i, it is a lifestyle.”

you nod hesitantly as they both pause for a second, watching you digest this information. you’re unsure how to respond, feeling progressively more restless in your seat.

they both give each other a look before mrs romanoff nods and mrs. maximoff speaks.

“normally, for people who live this lifestyle, they draw up contracts between themselves and the person they want as their submissive.. now we know this is all very forward, but there’s just no other way to put it. we’d like to have you as our new submissive.”

your face turns bright red for reasons you’re not fully aware of. you weren’t quite sure what being a “submissive” all entailed, but you couldn’t wipe the imagery of being helplessly tied down and whipped from your mind. you’re silent as your brain flits through one imaginary scenario to the next. you were so clueless though, you weren’t sure if the things you were thinking up were things people actually did or if they were just shown in porn.

“me…? i just..well it’s just that..i’m-i don’t know if i would be your ideal candidate,” you stumble out, your eyes glued to the table as you avoid looking at either of them at all costs.

“on the contrary, (y/n), i singled you out almost immediately at our interview. i knew i wanted you. that’s why i had wanda join us.” her face softens as she notices your slight uneasiness. being a bit of a sadist though, she couldn’t help but find your innocence and embarrassment so incredibly gratifying. it only made her want you more.

your teeth worry into your bottom lip again as you look between one set of green eyes and then the other. “do you guys normally.. share, uhm..submissives?”

“not always, but we do like to when it’s possible,” wanda shares, a reassuring smile on her face. you purse your lips, chewing on the inside of your cheek as more questions arise in your head.

“how does that work? sharing i mean.” you knew there were people who participated in polyamorous relationships, and you had no issue with it, you just had trouble visualizing the dynamic.

natasha grins wickedly to herself, realizing now how truly innocent and unknowing you were. she suspected a little yesterday at the interview, but had no idea the true scope of your innocence. wanda also found herself undeniably more attracted to you after this conversation. her hands twitch in her lap, thinking of all the things she could do to you that you probably haven’t ever dreamed of.

“it works (y/n), trust me…” mrs. romanoff says seductively.

“we know this is all very foreign to you, sweetheart. you don’t have to say yes today, just think about it?” mrs. maximoff reaches across the table and affectionately holds onto your wrist. your stomach does a little flip-flop at the term of endearment paired with the affection.

there were so many thoughts and feelings swirling around you, but one thing stuck out above the rest. you wanted to learn more. you didn’t want to say no and close a door on something that you might enjoy.

“i want to.. i mean, um, i will think about it,” you clear your throat for the umpteenth time that day, pulling your hand back from mrs. maximoff’s light grasp. it was suddenly feeling like her hand was searing your skin.

“you want to what?” mrs. romanoff presses, her eyes looking at you with intensity again.

“i just meant that i want to learn more..about this,” you reply quietly, peeking at mrs. romanoff through your lashes. you notice her clench her jaw and flex her fingers that were resting on the table, but you weren’t sure what it meant.

“well, there’s a lot to learn, but luckily i’d say we’re both pretty good teachers,” mrs. maximoff grins more wickedly this time, her expression giving you a new glimpse into something you hadn’t seen in her until this point.

“why don’t we meet up again sometime this weekend? we can answer any questions you have—help you learn more about what we’re asking from you,” she adds, to which you surprisingly feel eager to agree to the idea. you find yourself already wanting to learn more, especially if the people who were going to educate you were two of the hottest women alive.

“yeah…let’s do that,” you nod once, your blush slowly creeping off your cheeks though a slight honey glow was still present.

you all begin to gather your things, mrs. maximoff noticing their lunch break was just about up. the three of you hardly touched your coffees, the conversation too intense to take swigs of the drinks.

the two of them walk you out of the shop, mrs. romanoff hailing down a cab for you. you turn to say goodbye to mrs. maximoff and find that she’s standing closer to you than expected.

“i look forward to seeing you again so soon, dragotsennaya veshch’,” she murmurs, reaching to give your arm an affectionate squeeze. you smile at her, unsure what she said but not caring much to know now.

you step closer to the cab after mrs. romanoff opens the door for you. before you can slip inside the car, mrs. romanoff leans down, murmuring in your ear.

“if you have any questions before the weekend that simply can’t wait, don’t hesitate to text me. you have my number.” her voice was a little rough which makes you shiver.

you nod slowly, sucking on your bottom lip again. you give mrs. maximoff a shy hand wave which she mimics with an amused grin. you sink down into the car seat, mrs. romanoff shutting the door behind you.

as the taxi drives away, you can’t help but look behind you as the two women grow smaller and smaller on the sidewalk. as the car turns a corner, the couple remain standing there until you disappear. you sigh and turn back around in your seat, resting heavily against the cushion behind you.

what just happened?

——————————

tag list:

@poppyshuman @wandamaximoffsbadgirl @xenaizogie @ashadash0904 @kittnii @hayeeonn @gh0sstss @beggingonmykneesforher @natashalover3000 @msvenablesbitch @ihartnat @leesromanova @alwaysgoodnight @lowlifejuliett @azaleavolkova @caramelcat123 @daretodream1307-blog @ctrlaltedits @sweetmissnothing @gecko1 @karmasgxrl @marvelwomenarehot0 @elle161989 @waaayoutofline @snazzysprig @simpforlizzie @just4natasha

[krinsyn]

wacom tablet + Ventura: how to fix

If you, like me, have a wacom tablet and are using iOS Ventura, you may be having some problems :'D My wacom tablet has been weird ever since I got it, and recently it bugged out really bad and I couldn't even use it. Cue the panic! I emailed wacom and asked for help. The instructions they sent didn't work, but I have modified them and NOW THE TABLET WORKS. I don't think this software is stable and I think it's likely to bug out again, but at least if it does, I know what to do.

Googling around I see a lot of people are having this problem so I hope with enough tags and google-able words, I can help someone else.

Instructions under the cut.

If your wacom uninstaller isn't working (maybe it freezes, like mine did), skip step 2 and go from step 1 to step 3.

The following is word for word instructions from wacom with some alterations from me.

1. First, disconnect the tablet from the computer.

2. Next, open Finder, click on Go (at the top of the screen near the Apple menu) and go to Applications. Locate any Wacom Tablet folder and open the Wacom Tablet Utility in it. Using this utility, please remove All User's preferences and uninstall the driver. (Click on the lock icon on the bottom of the window to enable this option. Make sure to create a back up of your preferences first if necessary.)

Restart the computer.

3. After removing the driver with the utility, please manually check if anything was left behind. Please open Finder, click on Go, and then click on Computer. Once there, please access your main hard drive (by default should be named Macintosh HD) and check if anything is left behind in the folders listed below. DELETE EVERY WACOM-RELATED FILE IN THESE FOLDERS, not just the ones listed below. Check every file name carefully. Obliterate anything with "wacom" in the name. You may or may not have all the files listed below:

In Macintosh HD:

Applications/Wacom Tablet

Library/Application Support/Tablet

Library/Frameworks/WacomMultiTouch.framework

Library/Internet Plugins/WacomTabletPlugin.plugin

Library/Launch Agents/com.wacom.wacomtablet.plist

Library/LaunchDaemons/com.wacom.displayhelper.plist

Library/LaunchDaemons/com.wacom.RemoveTabletHelper.plist

Library/LaunchDaemons/com.wacom.TabletHelper.plist

Library/PreferencePanes/WacomTablet.prefpane

Library/Preferences/Tablet

Library/PriveledgedHelperTools/com.wacom.RemoveTabletHelper

Library/PriveledgedHelperTools/com.wacom.TabletHelper

❗️ If you have more than one user on your computer, you will have to repeat this for every user. If you do not have more than one user on your computer, ignore this part.

This part is for if there is more than one user on the computer, which currently there is not

The same will have to be checked in any respective User’s folder on the system. To access it, you must select 'Go' from the top of Finder and select 'Go to folder...’. Here, enter ~/Library to access the current user's Library folder. Please check for Wacom related files in the Preferences folder and remove them if present:

Users/<your user>/Library/Preferences/com.wacom.ProfessionalTablet.plist

Users/<your user>/Library/Preferences/com.wacom.wacomtablet.prefs

Users/<your user>/Library/Preferences/com.wacom.wacomtouch.prefs

❗️ End of instructions for other users

Restart the computer.

4. Open Finder, go to Applications and then in Utilities. Please open the Disk Utility and use the First Aid tool to do a repair of your disk permissions.

5. Now download and install the latest driver from wacom. Search based on your tablet product number. Be sure to give permissions to the driver as they are requested during this installation process.

6. Once the installation is complete, and the system is stable, connect the tablet. As always, make sure your tablet is connected directly to your computer. Avoid using USB hubs, keyboard/monitor ports, or docking stations with the tablets, as they can cause inconsistent behavior.

THINGS TO MAKE SURE ARE ON:

System Settings → Privacy and Security → Accessibility → make sure all wacom-related things are turned on (“com.wacom” and “WacomTabletDriver” on my computer)

System Settings → Privacy and Security → Input Monitoring → make sure all wacom-related things are turned on (“WacomTabletDriver” on my computer)

If the above wacom things disappear, you can find them in:

Go → Applications → Wacom Tablet → push “cmd shift period” keys to show the hidden folder .Tablet → .Tablet has the driver things, you can drag them into the Accessibility and Input Monitoring panels

These instructions are relevant as of posting (Feb 5, 2023). If you find something has worked/doesn't work for you, feel free to put it in the notes or a reblog. I'm not an IT person. I just want people to be able to use their very expensive equipment 😫

[neko-rogers]

All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

     It was emotionally crushing.

     The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings. 

     As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

     It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

     Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

     “You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

     The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

     Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

     You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

     “Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

     You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

     “I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles. 

     “Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?” 

     “Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

     However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

     “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

     “It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.”      “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

     “I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

     Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

     You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

     This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

     Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

     “Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation. 

     “But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

     You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

     There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back. 

     “Okay then I’ll–”

     “No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

     You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends. 

     And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting. 

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     "Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

     “We’re so proud of you.”

     “You two look so happy together!”

     “Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

     “Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

     A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

     Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

     All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

     After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

     Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

     “To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

     You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

     Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you’re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

     Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

     When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

     Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

     “Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

     Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad. 

     Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

     “I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

     “We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

*

     Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

     As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

     Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

     When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

     His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

     He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

     “I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

     “What do you mean?”

     “I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

     His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

     “I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

     Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

     “Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

     “Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

     “That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

     “You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

     Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

     “I’m sorry–”      “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

     “I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

     “No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

     “Okay.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

     “That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

     Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

     You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

     It was emotionally crushing.

     “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

     “Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

     “That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

     “Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

     “Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

     You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

     “I guess I owe you an apology.”

     Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

     “Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

     The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

     “Of course, Peter.” 

     “Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.” 

     You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

     “Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

     “I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

     He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

     “You’re too sweet.” You smile.

     Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

     From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

     As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

     “Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

     As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

     And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

     “Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

     “Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

     He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

     His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

     Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally. 

     He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships. 

     And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

     Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

     For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

     One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

     “Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

     “Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

     “Yeah, babe?”

     “C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

     He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

     Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt. 

     He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear. 

     The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

     You react by tightening around it, along with a whine. 

     “Sorry, babe.”

     Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

     Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

     “Hmm,” was your only response.

     Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

     “That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself. 

     He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

     Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

     There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

     “Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

     As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

     Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

     Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

     When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

     “Peter?”      “Hmm?”

     “I still feel hot,” you purr. 

     Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

     You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

     You were his.

[redbeansoups]

Move-In Day

Cove Holden x Reader

In which Cove Holden helps you move into your brand new dorm, and wishes you farewell before your freshman year.

Takes place after Step 3.

*

Like it or not, your life has always revolved around one Cove Holden. One bright-eyed, silky-haired, infuriatingly endearing Cove Holden. It’s always been him, in everything you’ve done, forever a spectator and participant in one. You have never known a time without him: your classmate, neighbor, best friend and boyfriend-extraordinaire.

Even now, as you edge into adulthood, Cove Holden is all you know: seated beside you with one hand on the wheel, wavy hair tucked behind his ears, his eyes longingly on yours. He catches your gaze, and offers you a smile, full of sincerity as always.

The journey upstate had been a long time coming; a goal, ever-present, but inching along so slowly that you’d opted merely to brush it off. But as the summer of your senior year came to a close, your move-in day had sprung up on you like an unpleasant (albeit somewhat enthralling) surprise.

Cove, forever a gentleman, had insisted on driving you all the way. You’d argued against him, only to be shut down–and quite firmly at that. “If you’re going to be moving so far away,” he’d told you one night, “then the least I can do is go and see you off.” He was a much better driver than you anyway, you’d reasoned with yourself, and it’d be nice to have another pair of hands to unpack. The idea of flying alone didn’t quite appeal to you either, so, after hardly a moment’s hesitation, you’d agreed to let him tag along.

College, all the way up north–you can hardly believe you’d come so far. You’d dreamt of this for years, spent months drafting application essays and crafting resumes. Years of preparation and research, though, hadn't seemed to brace you for the anxiety to come.

Even now, sitting in the car with Cove, hands intertwined, the idea feels more like a dream than your living, breathing reality. But the car trudges along, movements never once faltering for your thoughts.

You’d be on your own soon–a stray left for dead. You’d be nowhere near Sunset Bird anymore.

Lost in thought, it takes you more than a moment to grow cognizant of your surroundings. The scenery has shifted, the sky around you having faded to a pale purple hue. The change in atmosphere is instant. High-rise buildings litter the skyline; the shopping districts, no longer limited to a single street, bustle with activity.

It feels, beyond anything else, unfamiliar.

Isolating.

Realistically, you are far from alone. Derek, having gotten his scholarship, lives right down the hall. Your parents and sister are always a call away, and your friends have never failed to remind you of their presence. And Cove, despite being far from technologically adept, is still a better texter than most–and a relatively consistent one at that.

These thoughts, at least, are reassuring.

But the fear remains–and all you can do is try and work alongside it.

You turn to Cove. The window has been rolled down; you feel the cool evening breeze against your skin, fresh and foreign all at once. His hands are running mindlessly through his hair, detangling the inevitable wind-induced knots. Your eyes flit down to his fingers drumming against the steering wheel, then lower down to his scar, the pale white mark running gently down his forearm.

Sitting there, so unaware of himself, sunset illuminating soft features–Cove is beautiful, in every possible way.

You smile, content.

*

The hours pass, and before you know it, you find yourself on campus for the first time.

You tap the keycard to your door, and it opens with a soft click. The two of you are met with the sight of the dorm, the yellow-tinted wood somehow even less impressive than the photos you’d seen online. Barren walls, popcorn ceilings, worn-down linoleum from decades past. Sparsely decorated as it may be, the room puts you at ease.

You let Cove move past you to enter. “What a joy.” You scoff at the drawl in his voice. “Where’d you say your roommate’s from?” he asks, his shoulders nudging the door wider. His set of boxes is significantly larger than yours, and he looks smaller than ever with the stack cradled against his chest.

“Florida,” you answer, following his footsteps.

“Oh.” He sets the cardboard down on the ground, the impact resounding with a solid thump. “I hope they won’t mind the mess we’re about to make.”

That draws a laugh out of you; you think back to all the times you’ve stepped into his room, only to find it a complete bird’s nest. “They’re not moving in until tomorrow.” Another thump resounds as you drop your own load. “We have time to clean. But don’t mess things up too bad, please. I’d like a good first impression.”

“No promises.”

You roll your eyes, and, cracking open the first box, begin the arduous process of unpacking.

*

“Well,” Cove says finally, brushing dust away from his hands. “I think that was the last of your stuff.”

Setting the last of your books in place, you take a moment to revel in your surroundings. Despite his messy tendencies, Cove had done a pretty good job–with your assistance, of course. All your clothes had been folded neatly up in the closet, and your posters were hung all over the walls, like a delicate reminder of home. On the desk sat two small photo frames; one with you and your family, and one with you and Cove.

“I guess so, huh,” you mutter.

There’s a weight in the air around you, and you bow your head.

There’d been too much to discuss. Hell, even now the topic was one you wanted nothing more than to avoid. The ‘what-ifs’ had littered your mind for months now, hanging over you like a constant reminder. And though Cove had tried his best to dispel them, they’d inevitably come back–and with a vengeance. You didn’t know what the future held, nor did you know whether the two of you would last. Uncertainty riddled your mind: what if he grew bored? What if the two of you lost interest? What if, after all your time together, the physical distance became too much?

His hand comes to rest on your shoulder. The gesture is light, gentle–a welcome pressure.

The tension dissipates.

You sigh, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze. There’s a softness in his eyes you’ve come to recognize as sadness. And there’s a warmth behind your own that threatens to grow hot, to liquify and pool before you. You choke back the urge to cry, stifling yourself by clearing your throat. “You’ll text me, won’t you?”

He chuckles softly at that, thumb stroking circles into your skin. “Of course. I’ll call you so often you’ll grow sick of me.”

“I’m counting on it, Cove.”

You give him one last hug, inhaling his scent and pressing your cheek to his chest. He smells like Sunset Bird, a mixture of the ocean and the beach and all the pleasantries that come along with it. His pulse, slow and steady, beats in your ear.

Devoting the moment to memory, you angle your head to plant a peck on his cheek. “Thanks for helping me move in.”

He grins at you. “Of course.” The expression sparks something strange in you, something equal parts melancholy and equal parts pride. You so badly want him to stay–you want to reach out, pull him down into the bed and sit right atop him so he might never escape your grasp.

“I love you,” you whisper, part-plea and part-farewell; you see the pain in Cove’s eyes. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, alright?”

He lets out a breathy laugh and, shaking his head, shoots you a smile. "I love you too."

You smile, and breathe him in just once more. Then, with one last teary kiss, you let go, and wish him a safe journey home.

You’re on your own now–

But you know he’s with you, always.

*

A/N: Another self-indulgent piece as always, because I've fallen in love with one Cove Holden. My freshman year of college starts soon, and I guess my worries culminated in this piece. Thanks for reading, though–I hope this was alright! Any reblogs or likes are appreciated!!

[shannygoatgruff]

Only Fan(s) - A Thriller

Genre: Thriller

Pairing: Modern Ivar/OC

Warning: Language, sex, stalking, obsession, kidnapping, sexual assault

Rating: MA+18

Summary: Sometimes OnlyFans subscribers want a little more than internet pictures. Sometimes they want to be your ONLY fan…

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr

Thanks to @xbellaxcarolinax for being my beta.

Disclaimer: This story will deal with some topics that might be a little uncomfortable for some people. As always, I’ll try to tackle the hard stuff as tactfully as possible.

a/n: I know it’s been a minute. I’m always thinking about these stories because I want to finish them, just can’t seem to focus on writing at the moment.  Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Part iv - Date with Destiny

Finding Ivar Lothbrok should have been easy. Between the two of them, he was the stable one. He was the one with the iron-clad schedule that consisted of drinking, smoking, and partying. Torren’s schedule was a bit more... fluid. She tended to go wherever the wind, or whatever car she acquired, would take her. Naturally, Ivar had the occasional meet-and-greet, red carpet, and/or Comic-con engagement that he had to attend, still, he was pretty easy to keep tabs on. All one had to do was look at (stalk) his social media accounts, and his whereabouts were posted for everyone to see.

Knowing where he’d be and finding out where he lived were a different story. Torren had done her due diligence when it came to locating the town in which Little Kattegat was located. It only took about two days and a few Google image searches of the background of a few of the photos and she had it narrowed down to a general area in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

From what she could tell, the closest town to where he lived was pretty small, and there were only a few large estates hidden in the woods. How hard could it be to find? She was willing to drive to every single house and knock on the door to find him if she had to. But it would just be easier if there was loud music and a bunch of cars in the driveway. That way she could tag along inside with the rest of the guests to get to her man. 

Her shirt landed in the pile of dirty clothes in the center of the bed, as she reached around to unhook her bra. “I really need to tell Baby Boo to stop putting all of his business out in these streets,” her brows furrowed as she shook her head, “What if some crazy, psycho bitch started stalking him, or some shit? Then I’d have to kill a bitch.” Torren’s head whipped around and she narrowed her eyes at his picture, still stuck on her wall, “Is that what you want? Huh? You want me to cut a bitch to prove to you how much I love you? I will, Bae! You know I would do anything for you. I’m your Ride or Die...” 

And being his Ride or Die meant that she needed to keep better tabs on him if she was going to protect him from someone crazier than her, God forbid.  She was only able to do so much on this prepaid phone, and going to the library to get online was becoming a pain in the ass. 

She’d considered stealing a laptop or iPad from the library but was still on the fence about the idea. Of course, the alternative meant going to stupid ass libraries and threatening little kids to get off the fucking computers, and that completely sucked ass. 

She always felt rushed when she logged onto her Bae’s Only Fans page from the public library. Without fail one of those little bastard kids would get the library Nazis to kick her off the computer, or bar her from the library altogether for watching porn. 

Ivar’s page wasn’t porn! It was art. It was sexy. It was love...his love for her. Stupid bitches. 

She had encountered far worse things than getting kicked out of the library, but some of these small towns usually only had one or two within their county limits. If she got banned, how was she supposed to check up on Ivar? In the time it took to log in until she got kicked out, she'd be lucky if she could check 2 of his accounts. What if he had some important information on another platform that she hadn’t checked yet? What was she supposed to do then?

Her relationship with Ivar was hanging in the balance, and she'd be damned if some snot-nosed kid or fucking uptight librarian would fuck that up. She needed a computer. But, on the flip side, when she finally got her man back, she wouldn't need one anymore. She could ask him directly what their plans were.

There was a lot to consider and that took time; time that she didn't have right now.

The thick layer of Nair shaving cream she had applied to her already hairless crotch, was just starting to tingle, signaling she had about 5 minutes left before the sweat-inducing, burning sensation would kick in alerting her to wash the cream off. Until then, she had time to consider an outfit for the night.

She knew Ivar well enough to know that he would want her to be sexy for him, but not so much to distract him from work. She could have gone for something slutty, like those skanky bitches he partied with. She could have gone for more demur, but then she would remind him too much of his bitch ex-wife and completely turn him off. The last thing she wanted on their first night back together was for him to be thinking about that bitch. She could have gone for a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but Torren never did simple. 

No, Ivar would want her to be herself. That's what he loved about her. That's what attracted him to her in the first place. She would be sexy without being skanky; she would be demure without being a prude.

Fuck! It was already 7:33 p.m. How in the hell did she miss the beginning of his Live? Now she was running late.

She was supposed to be dressed and ready by the time his Live came on that way she could be out the door as soon as he finished. If she was going to make it to be on his Only Fans live stream tonight, she needed to get to his house before he got too distracted. Now, she’d have to watch his Live, while her cooch burst into flames before she had a chance to take a shower and finish picking out her outfit.

If there was one thing Torren was, it was punctual. It was bad enough that she was about 40 minutes outside of his town, but it could take her up to 2 or more hours to find his house. She only hoped that he didn’t plan on starting any real freaky shit on his Only Fans page until around midnight, cause it looked like she wouldn’t be getting there before then, anyway.  

With the smile still plastered on her face, Torren turned on the hot water for a shower, forgetting that the water didn’t get hot. She didn't mind, much, especially since the cold water gave her a break from the heat in her room. 

Phone in hand, she watched him, as she planted herself on the dirty bathtub floor, cross-legged, and started to get herself ready. Starting with her toes, she shaved each one, just below the knuckle, followed by her fingers, arms, pits, and each leg, from groin to ankle, three times. When the burning from her nether regions was so intense that she couldn’t tell her tears from the shower water dripping on her face, she quickly washed off the cream. 

All she could do was hope that she hadn’t broken the skin this time. The last time she had let that damn Nair stay on, just past burning, the skin broke and she bled. She was not having a bloody hoo-ha tonight. 

With that taken care of, she gently used the razor to remove any other pubes closer to the inside that needed to be removed. Then shaved her backside. When she had more time, she was going to get the internal hairs bleached, but she needed to find out what Ivar preferred. 

Shaving ate up so much of her time that she only had a few seconds to rub some body-wash that she had stolen from a drug store over her body and hoped it got rid of the smell of the summer heat. Her hair? Fuck it...she’d wash it another day, for now, this cold water would have to be enough. She’d spritz some perfume and hair spray in it and it would smell fine. 

Torren finished her shower, and walked out of the bathroom dripping wet, only using a towel to wrap around her hair. She was glad it was so hot in her room that her hair would air-dry quickly. She finger-combed her damp tresses to complete that ‘just got out of bed, but it's styled’ appearance. She knew how much he loved when her hair looked like that. It would remind him of freshly fucked hair. 

She spent extra time applying her makeup, even using an extra dark, thick application of eyeliner. She usually went for more subtle warm colors. They matched her tan skin tone better. But, tonight, she had bold, dark makeup, complete with varying shades of purple and blue eye shadows, and dark purple lipstick.

Torren was glad that she decided to match Ivar’s clothes this evening. The swim trunks and smoking jacket he wore would compliment her beautifully. She wanted everyone to know that they dressed alike, the way real couples do. If he was going for less is more, so would she.

She settled on black leather chaps that tied up on the sides, and tight blue boy shorts that left the bottom half of her ass cheeks exposed. The blue shorts brought out the blue swirls in his trunks; she knew he'd appreciate that touch. Her top was a blue bandanna that she wore as a halter with a short black leather jacket with tassels on the sleeves. 

They screamed “couple” in her eyes.

Completely satisfied with how she looked, Torren locked the door to her motel room and started down the hall. She deliberately stopped by the window and peered through the partially opened blinds of the people staying next door to her. She knocked on the window to get the attention of the young couple inside. Judging from their appearance, they were too strung out to know who she was, or that it was her music that they constantly banged on the wall about. She didn’t care. She still flipped them off before making her way to the stairs. 

Reaching her hand through the busted window of the blue Ford Taurus to unlock the door from the inside. Torren slid into the driver's seat and leaned over to find the two cords that she had pulled out from under the steering column when she stole the car. Flicking the cords together, she listened as the engine reluctantly turned over.

She put the car in reverse, looked in the rear-view mirror at her makeup, then pulled out of the spot. As she turned onto the road leading to the highway, she listened to the knocks, bumps, and hisses that her car made. There wasn't time to do much about it now; not when she was on her way to get her man. But, she made a mental note to do something about it later in the week. The only thing she could do was turn the music up louder to drown out the car noise.

Truthfully, she should have stolen a better car than the piece of shit Taurus that she found in the parking lot of the Quickie Mart while driving through Tulsa, Oklahoma. There were plenty of better cars there to choose from but no one would have wanted to take this one. It was so sad looking that she took pity on it. She had been doing the owner of this crap car a favor, by taking it off of their hands. 

The car was truly fucked. The oil light stayed on, and it drank gas like her mother drank liquor. The car had protested every inch of the ride across the three states that she traveled through in one day. She knew that it would only be a matter of time before that piece of shit breathed its last breath.

She needed to get gas again, but fuck that car. She had already refueled four times since she stole it. Gas wasn't cheap and she wasn't putting another dime in that gas guzzler. Speaking of money, she made a mental note to steal another credit card. It would only be a matter of time before the owner of the one that was tucked snugly between her left breast and strapless bra, would eventually realize that it had been lifted from the table in the diner, and canceled.

Laptop, butt bleaching, car, credit card, and more eyeliner from Walgreen's…her To-Do list was growing. She really needed to take some time off and take care of the necessities. Not tonight, though. She had other things to do. She couldn't do anything else, right now, but get to her man. Besides, once Lothbrok was by her side, he would help her remember all the things she needed to do.

As she came off of the highway exit smoke started billowing out from the engine. It backed up through the exhaust system, and came through the vents, inside the cabin. It was ironic – the air-conditioning vents in the car didn't work, but they seemed to work well enough to clog the inside of the car up with thick white smoke. She drove a few more miles before the smoke was so thick that she could no longer see. As she pulled the car over to the graveled shoulder of the road, the car knocked and shook, before it finally cut off.

Just her fucking luck.

She reached under the dash to flick the cords against each other again, trying to force the ignition to catch again, but it wouldn't. The engine had nothing left to give her. "Fuck Murphy and fuck his fucking law," she said calmly as she pulled the hood release.

She opened the car door, taking care to place both black, platform boots on the ground before lifting her backside from the seat. Placing her sunglasses on her eyes, she walked with one foot in front of the other to the front of the Taurus and placed her hand on the hood. It was hot, but not so hot that she couldn't feel under the front of the lever.

As she lifted the heavy metal hood and placed the rod in the slot to hold it in place, Torren let the smoke from the engine engulf her. It was quite a head rush breathing in the thick engine smoke through her nose, and exhaling it from her mouth. She patiently waited for the smoke to thin out before she bent, at the waist, over the engine. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew that someone would see her looking over the engine and stop to help her.

Now, if only someone would actually come down this dark stretch of road, she could be back on her way to Ivar.

It didn't take long before a pair of headlights rounded the bend of the road, just off to her right. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she accentuated the leather, chaps against her hips, and lifted her ass higher in the air, to catch the driver's attention. She couldn't help but smirk when she heard the tires of a large vehicle turn onto the graveled pavement in front of where she broke down. She didn't turn to face the car or the driver. She didn't care who they were or what they looked like. She had an appointment to keep and this pit stop was fucking up her timetable.

"You need some help?" A deep voice asked as its owner approached her.

Torren took a moment to peer around the hood, noticing that there were no other cars around. "Broke down," she answered, continuing to bear her weight from one hip to the other. She placed her hands on the metal frame of the car, arched her back, and looked at the man over her shoulder. "You know something about cars?"

"Yeah," he replied, moving around to her side, looking at her, and not the smoky engine.

She gave him half a smile, as she noticed him notice her. "You a mechanic or something?" She asked standing up. She rubbed her hands together to remove some of the visible engine soot while considering the guy in front of her. He was about 6 feet tall with a moderate build. He was dressed in blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and Timberland boots. He didn't look like he was more than 25 years old. Judging from the way he was looking at her and from the ring on his left hand, he wasn't too worried about her car, or his wife, for that matter.

"Nah, not a mechanic, but I work on my own car... in my spare time." He smiled when she did. She was gorgeous, in that slutty kind of way. She wouldn't be dressed like that and leaning over the hood of a car if she wasn't looking to have some fun. "Lemme take a look at it."

Did he work on his car? Hopefully, that meant that his ran better than hers did.

Torren moved over to the side and let him take the position under the hood. "I'll be right back," he explained before walking over to the bed of his F150.

Grabbing a flashlight from the trunk, he took a second to admire the view of her, from behind. If he could get her car moving again, she would hopefully follow him to this cheap motel he knew that was just up the highway.

He leaned in close, taking a whiff of her hair, "You overheated…want to check the coolant level."

She had heard him say something else but she had stopped listening; she was too busy watching the street. "You want me to try to start it?" she asked, removing her sunglasses before making her way to the driver's door. She wasn't sure if he answered or not. She had no intention of driving the Taurus again, even if he could get it started. She just needed to get something out of the car.

She slid into the seat and reached down on the floor. She found the hard metal object on the floor of the passenger's side and gripped it tightly. As she walked back around to the front of the car, she heard him talking, presumably about the car, or maybe he was asking her out. Who the fuck knows? She was on a tight schedule and all of his chatting was holding her up. She stood by the side of the hood, looking at the angle he was leaning over the hood. Quickly, she lifted her arm, and with one powerful blow, she struck him in the head with the crowbar that she used to procure her now-defunct car.

Torren stood over his body, looking at him intensely. God, it felt good. The rush of knowing that one minute this dude was towering over her, and the next he was on the ground. She had dropped his ass. She was the one with the power.

 "Thanks," she said, digging her hand in his pocket to retrieve his cash, credit card, and the keys to his truck. She wiped the blood on the crowbar on his shirt before walking to her new mode of transportation.

Torren sat in the truck's driver's seat and turned on the engine. She had managed to cross two things off of her To-Do list without even planning to.

Thank God the truck had air conditioning. All this heat and humidity was bound to make her hair frizzy. She cranked the AC up as high as it would go and sat still for a moment enjoying the cool air. After a minute, she adjusted the seat and tilted the rearview mirror to look at herself. She was starting to sweat and her eyeliner was starting to run just a bit at the corners of her eyes. She dabbed at the black liner to even out the lines, and then pushed the mirror back to where she could see. Giving the area another once-over, she made sure that no one else had seen her interaction with that guy on the ground, before pulling out from the gravel and onto the paved street.

"Ugh!" Torren yelled. Chester Bradley, the printed name on the credit card, had shitty taste in music. She pushed the stereo button on the steering wheel to do a scan of the radio. Anything was better than country music. Once she found some trap music on the XM radio, she turned up the volume and pulled back onto the highway.

Part iii/

Tags: @ideagarden-blog1  @youbloodymadgenius @xbellaxcarolinax @a-mess-of-fandoms @didiintheblog @conaionaru @peachyboneless @flowers-in-your-hayr @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @revolution-starter​

[jajanvm-imbi]

Headcanons of Krel living on earth because he’s my favorite and I love him and I haven’t seen anyone do this yet so I feel like I have to

^^^^^because of this very moment I love the idea of Mary and Darci befriending Krel.

Since Aja,Vex and Eli went back to Akaridion-5, Mother was destroyed, and Claire was busy with Trollhunting stuff, earth gets pretty lonely. So Mary and Darci adopt him into their friend group. 

At first Krel was a little apprehensive to joining their friend group, but he quickly warmed up to it because, he, being Krel, loves the attention.

like I can totally see Mary and Darci taking Krel to like a mall or something and doing those like teen romcom movie shopping montages where he goes into a changing room and the girls judge the outfit until they find the perfect one.

I personally believe Krel would adopt a soft boy look, with like oversized button ups and t shirts tucked into jeans, but thats just me.

anyway, because he’s friends with Mary and Darci, Krel has a new found social popularity in Arcadia.

because of this, Krel would prolly get nominated for Spring Fling king and shit

I would say Krel wouldn’t really care about being nominated, but seeing how he cared so much about the science fair and the Battle of the Bands, he would definitely care

Steve is conflicted because he wants to be Spring Fling King, but he can’t mess with Krel like he did with Jim and Eli cause Krel is his girlfriend’s brother 

Krel notices this and takes advantage of it to mess with Steve and actually tries to win.

like Krel would just dominate the contests, and his theme presentation would be the flashiest and most appealing and people would just generally like him, and that would really worry Steve

like Krel, with four arms would be really good at the Touch-a-Truck-athon or whatever its called.

Krel would prolly let Steve win anyway because watching Steve squirm and freak out over prolly losing the crown and not being able to do anything about it cause he's Aja's brother is much better than any highschool dance crown

also the school 100% asks Krel to DJ future dances and events to save money, and Krel absolutely loves it

He would also definitely do the school play. Seeing how much he enjoyed being in Toby and Eli's short film, and again, he loves the attention, he would totally be down 

Also it would just be another chance to mess with Steve to be the lead. 

Because of this, Ms. Janeth would do another Shakespearean play, but do one of those modern renditions. Like it's the same play just in a modern setting, to take advantage of Krel's Akaridion form like they did with Jim's armor. 

If not in the play he would do stage crew/tech.

Like he would create elaborate settings for them using A5 tech and Ms. Janeth would adore it 

moving on, because home life is pretty lonely with just the Lucy and Ricky for company, Krel loves to host his friends for parties and sleepovers and whatever

and since Krel lives in the coolest house on the block, they love coming over

He hosts girl’s night every other week with Mary, Darci, and Clarie (becauuse she deserves a fucking break) 

since we’ve all agreed that Krel is 100% a gaylien, I love the idea that he casually comes out during a girls night

like Mary would be like “So Krel, are there any girls you like?” and Krel’s just like, “*snort* Girls? Who ever said I like girls?” and the others are like “….....?“ and Krel just rolls his eyes and says "I like boys, ladies” and they’re like “ooooohhhh, okay. Cool.”

So now they spend girls night talking about boys. Claire and Darci about their mans and Mary and Krel about cute boys.

One day the girls give Krel a little rainbow pin and Krel’s just like “what’s this?” And the girls tell him that it’s an earth symbol for the gays and he’s like “theres a symbol for that here? I didnt think it was that big of a deal. On A5 it’s pretty normal” and the girls explain why theres a symbol and he’s like “oh shoot wow, thanks" and he put it on his backpack.

He’s pretty confused the first time someone is homophobic towards him cause like that kind if behavior doesnt happen on A5 and hes just like, “why does this bother you? I hardly know you” and just brushes it off. Its doesnt really bother him, mainly cause he doesnt know the earth insults towards gay people so he doesn’t even realize, but if the girls (or Toby, or even Steve, too) catch anyone being homophobic towards their friend they will attack that asshole on sight. Especially Mary and Steve

Random person on the street: Ha, *slur*

Marry: WHAT DID YOU SAY TO HIM BITCH???

Krel: Marry its fine, it’s not that big of a dealoHSEKLOSANDGAYLENMARYGETOFFOFHIM

Marry: SAY IT AGAIN ASSHAT, I D A R E YOU

Claire and Darci: *trying to hold Mary back* maRY NO

Steve: THATS MY NINJA KICKING SPACE ANGEL GIRLFRIEND'S BROTHER BUTTSNACK I'LL END YOU

Toby: *now chasing after Steve to stop him* stEVE NO

Mary would 100% find out who the rando is and destroy their life on social media. Like she would leak their job, phone number, email, school/college (if applicable) to her thousands of followers and absolutely ruin them with no remorse. And honestly, good for her

Also whilst on the subject, Krel can not drive or cook for 2 reasons: 1. Hes gay and 2. He’s a prince so he’s never had to do either before

Like he can obviously do math but that’s it.

Proof? That one scene in Wizards when Douxie had him drive the airship. You know the one.

Coach Lawrence refuses to get in a car with him at Drivers Ed after the 3rd day Krel shows up.

Krel gets addicted to sugary coffee shop-esc drinks thanks to Darci. Not coffee cause we saw in 3Below Part 1 that he doesnt like coffee, but refreshers, coolattas, frappuccinos etc…? Definitely.

As for warm drinks, he’s more of a tea person.

Moving on

He face calls Aja everyday because he really misses her

He tells her all about school and his friends and whatever and Aja tells him about the changes she’s making to the A5 government

Thanks to the wormhole they visit each other often. Sometimes Steve tags along cause he misses his ninja kicking space queen angel girlfriend. (And Eli, but that's also for another post)

They take turns housing Luug.

Krel genuinely loves it on earth, but he hates the primitive technology so he begs Aja to send him supplies and materials for his projects. 

He would 10000% apply to HexTech for an after school job. Seeing his reaction to HT in Wizards and the fact that “Akaridion tech and magic are so compatible”, he would be the perfect addition to the HT staff. 

The Wizards wouldn’t be sure at first but after he shows them A5 tech and Douxie’s email of recommendation about the time loop thing they made together, the wizards are like “oh yeah we definitely keeping this kid. This is going to be so much fun.”

Their inventions become more and more extravagant because Krel can and he's just extra and the wizards love it.

He would definitely find a way to use magic using A5 tech. But he would have to study magic in order to figure out how, so the wizards help him learn all about magic. And since he's learned everything there is to learn about science and technology and whatever, he's super excited to learn about something completely different and interesting. The wizards are happy to teach him. He would be the first Akaridion to learn and use magic

Like he would make his own staff with his serrator and everything. He's like "earn a staff? Nah fuck that going to make my own"

Speaking of which he really likes human swear words. But he doesnt know when it is and isn't inappropriate to say these swear words so he's gotten in trouble a few times for swearing at the wrong time

For example:

Ms. Janeth: excuse me Mr. Tarron?

Krel: what the fuck do you want?

Everyone in the room: krEL NO

Anyway, back to Krel at HT, thanks to Toby, he would definitely have a bowl of candy in his little lab. More like multiple jars of different candy just scattered around the room. Small candy like fun sized chocolate and skittles and jelly beans and whatever

And a mini fridge, of course.

Steve, Toby and Arrrgh come over to the lab alot to mess around.

Toby has a lot of sci-fi requests for Krel to make

Toby: do you think you can make a shrink ray? Laser blasters? Invisible ray? My own hoverboard? My own serrator *gASP* WITH A WARHAMMER SETTING???? WITH SPACE ARMOR TO MATCH???!!!???!

Krel: Toby you already have a warhammer and armor why do you need more?

Toby: I dont have a space warhammer and armor Krel!!!!!!

Going back to school life, I feel like Krel would take an interest in Spanish class. I mean, his human form is latino and in Trollhunters (I'm pretty sure the lightning in a bottle episode) he said "Si" in response to a question someone asked him, so I feel like he would like to learn another human language. 

I also feel like he would just like to learn about Latin American culture in general since Mother gave him that form. He'd like to get in touch with his human self. 

Claire (when she isnt busy Trollhunting with Jim and the gang) is happy help him learn about Latin American culture and help him with his Spanish. 

Krel, being a fast learner, becomes fluent quickly with a perfect accent. 

Señor Uhl, who already liked the Tarrons to begin with, would really appreciate this. 

Claire's dad would also appreciate this.

Since he has such a fascination with human music, Krel would especially love Latin American music. Specifically reggaeton, since its kind of like techno music in a way and he already likes techno music.

And naturally, he learns to dance. All the styles of latin american dances. And he becomes quite the favorite on the dance floor.

He and Claire become great dance partners cause they both have the natural Latino rhythm and because Jim respects and trusts his girlfriend he doesnt mind them dancing together at parties and stuff

Although, Jim does ask for dance help at some point cause it looks like fun and he wants to dance with his beautiful talented incredible amazing gf and Krel is happy to teach him and anyone else who wants dance help. 

GUITAR LESSONS with Douxie cause in 3Below Krel said he really wanted to learn how to play guitar, steals Shannon’s guitar from the bonfire and is seen multiple times strumming it throughout the series. So of course this is included.

Toby introduces Krel to YouTube and Krel instantly makes his own channel.

of course his channel is called DJ Kleb and he posts his tracks and remixes. and maybe even some vlogs

its a little slow at first, only Arcadia Oaks students are subscribed to it but Mary blows it up by posting one of Krel’s tracks on her own social media and now he has thousands of subscribers

he also gained other forms of social media like Instagram and Tiktok, platforms to post his music

At this point every girl in school wants to be friends with Krel but not in the toxic GBF (gay best friend) way, girls just genuinely think he's 10x more interesting than every other boy in Arcadia Oaks

I think that's it for now sorry this is really long I just really love Krel and I had so many ideas. Feel free to add on!!

[waitimcomingtoo]

I See Fire

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: the school bus to Washington D.C crashes and you can’t find Peter

Warnings: bus crash, mentions of death 

Masterlist

“All right boys and girls. The drive from here to Washington D.C is gonna be about five hours. I suggest you go over your flashcards. I will be at the front of the bus if anyone wants to play I Spy.” Mr. Harrington said from the front of the bus.

“Thanks Mr. Harrington.” A chorus of students mumbled.

“Thanks Steve.” Flash stated.

Three hours into the drive, most students had fallen asleep or were quietly playing with their phones. You snuck a glance at the front of the bus and caught sight of Peter. His head was resting on his shoulder, most likely from dozing off. You smiled at the sight and shrunk down in your seat. You were the newest member of the Academic Decathlon team and didn’t know too many people yet. Peter and Ned were your first friends at Midtown Tech and finally convinced you to join the team after months of begging. You said yes, mostly because it looked good on your college applications, but also because of the adorable smile Peter got on his face when you told him you were joining. You snuck one more look at him and felt a blush warm your skin. 

It suddenly began to rain, the rain drops hitting your window and creating a relaxing pitter-patter. You soon grew bored with looking out my window and looked around at your sleeping classmates. Your eyes naturally went to Peter and you nearly jumped when you saw that he was already looking at you. Peter got out of his seat and knelt down next to yours.

“Is it okay if I sit with you? I just heard Flash refer to the Founding Fathers as the “discovery daddies” and it made me ill.” Peter whispered so he wouldn’t disturb any of the sleeping students around you.

“Go ahead.” You chuckled softly and moved your backpack so he could sit.

“Thanks.” He said graciously as he took the empty seat.

"How come you’re still awake? I thought everyone was asleep." You asked quietly.

"I just had my eyes shut.” Peter shrugged. “Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I'm not tired." You answered him. “And Washington DC is the furthest I’ve been from home. I don’t want to sleep through the way there.”

“Really? You’ve never left Queens?” Peter asked curiously.

“My grandma died in a ferry boat crash so my mom doesn’t like to travel. I had to beg her to let me go on this trip.” You told him and he nodded in understanding.

“I’m sorry about that.” He said sincerely. “Do you think she’ll let you come to Europe this summer?”

“If I come home alive, then I don’t see why not.” You smiled slightly.

“Good. I hope you go.” Peter returned the smile as a faint blush painted his cheeks.

“I hope so too.” You said softly. Peter’s eyes studied your face before they traveled to your hair.

"What's this?" Peter asked, gently touching the hairpin you had in your hair. It was a delicate purple flower with green leaves.

"It was my grandmothers. She used to say it was her good luck charm.” You said shyly. “My mom made me wear it for a safe trip.”

"That's sweet.” Peter grinned, liking your family dynamic. “It looks good on you."

"Thanks.” You bit back a smile as his unexpected compliment. “It's kinda all I have left of her. I don't wear it often in case I lose it." You explained.

"I get what you mean. I have my moms watch in nightstand. I never wear it because I'm afraid I'll break it." Peter told you. “And I keep my dad's briefcase in my closet. My uncles suitcase is in there as well. As I’m saying this, I’m realizing I might be a hoarder.”

“You’re not a hoarder. You’re just sentimental.” You assured him and he nodded softly in agreement. “I’m the same way. It’s nice to have someone who understands.” You said honestly. You felt like you and Peter were like the two sides of the same coin. He got you in a way you deeply appreciated.

“I totally understand. Traveling makes me really nervous too.” Peter said and your eyes softened.

“Your parents died in a plane crash, right?” You asked carefully as not to upset him.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Planes don’t scare me though. It’s just fire that makes me really anxious.”

“Does that mean you’re not gonna today marshmallows with us tonight?” You asked cheekily.

“That’s a little fire. I can handle it.” Peter said smugly.

“Good. Maybe we can sit together, then.” You said coyly.

“I’d love too.” Peter answered with a bashful smile. You looked at him for a moment, not entirely sure what to say, but just enjoying his company.

“I’m really glad you joined the team.” He said finally.

“So am I, Peter.” You said sincerely.

You stare at each other for a moment. You let your eyes lazily trail down his face, stopping at his lips. Peter stared back at you with the same expression, lovestruck. You were drawn together like magnets. He moved in closer, painfully slow. Just as you were leaning in, Flash sneezed, startling you both and breaking you out of your trance.

“Bless you.” Peter said with a beet red face. You stared at each other, neither of you knowing what to do. The moment was ruined but the desire remained. The silence was once again broken by Flash.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Parker.” He grumbled.

"Our first kiss shouldn't be on a crowded school bus anyway." You thought to yourself, trying to convince yourself that it was for the best that you were interrupted.

Forty five minutes later, you were still sulking. Peter had fallen asleep with his head on your shoulder, so you had no one to talk to. The cute position you were in almost made up for the missed kiss from earlier, but you still felt the sting. You were about to doze off when you heard Mr. Harrington's voice.

"Hey, watch out for that deer!” Mr. Harrington shouted. The bus driver turned the steering wheel quickly, making the bus swerve towards the side of the road.

"I can't see!" The bus driver yelled. A mixture of heavy rain and the jet black sky blocked his vision.

"Get control of the bus." Mr. Harrington said above the noise of students beginning to panic. Your mouth felt dry and you absentmindedly grabbed ahold of Peter’s arm. He latched onto your hand and squeezed it tightly.

You were sliding all over the road, papers and flashcards flying everywhere. You felt nauseous from all the movement. The rain continued to beat down on the bus as the driver gripped the wheel. He tried to gain control of the bus, but to no avail.

"Look out!" Mr. Harrington yelled again. His exclamations weren't exactly helping. You looked up in time to see headlights of another car heading towards the bus at full speed. Both drivers slammed their brakes but the wet roads caused a lack of friction.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion. The bus went in the air. Students were thrown in every direction. You tried to hold on to Peter, but you were ripped from his grasp once the bus hit the ground. The other car skidded away safely but the bus began to tumble

down the road. You could feel it flipping over and over, finally coming to a halt, upside down. You sat up a little to look around, but a students textbook fell out of their bag and hit you in the head, knocking you unconscious.

“Where’s Y/n?” You heard a distant voice call.

You jolted out of your sleep and opened your eyes at the sound. Your senses came alive, one by one.

You felt the cold night air on your skin, giving you goosebumps.

You smelt smoke and the ground from the rain.

You could see the night sky above you and tiny white stars.

You heard voices and sirens all around you, but only out of one ear. The other ear was ringing.

You realized you were lying on your back and attempted to sit up. A man in navy scrubs immediately came over to you and knelt down beside you.

"Ma'am, you've been in an accident. Lie back down for me, please. Can you tell me your name?" The man asked as he shone a flashlight in your eyes. You did as he asked and laid down again.

"My name is Y/n L/n. What happened? Where am I?" You asked weakly as you rubbed your head.

"Your school bus flipped over. You’re on Connecticut Avenue. Now, follow my finger." He answered. The name tag on his scrubs said Matthew. He held up one finger and a small flashlight. Matthew moved his finger and the light side to side as you followed them with your eyes.

"Is everyone okay? Where's Peter?" You croaked.

"Everyone is fine. A few students have concussions but nothing major." Matthew said, not hearing your second question. “All the backpacks and duffle bags on board cushioned the impact. You guys were very lucky.”

“Am I okay?” You asked him.

“No concussion but you do have some bruising on your forehead. You’re okay to sit up.” He told you.

“Thanks.” You said as he helped you sit up. He began to check your reflexes to make sure nothing was broken.

"Where's Y/n? Where did you put her?" You heard again. Your neck hurt so you couldn't turn your head and find the source of the shouting. The voice sounded panicked, wherever they were. They were too far away to make out who was speaking, and the ringing in your ear didn’t help.

"Sir, please calm down. We'll find your friend for you in a moment." Someone older answered the voice and you assumed it was a doctor.

"It's okay. She's around here somewhere. I'm sure she's fine." Another voice said. They were getting closer to where you were.

"You didn't see what happened, Ned. She flew right out of my arms. I think she landed on her neck." The original voice said and you finally recognized it as Peters.

"The doctors said there were no major injuries. She'll be okay." Ned said calmly.

"Can you tell me her name and a description?" The doctor asked.

"It's Y/n L/n. I think she was wearing a purple dress today." Ned told the doctor. You managed to look down at what you were wearing to make sure Ned was right. You had on a purple skirt and a grey top. You smiled to yourself, thinking he was close enough.

"It was a purple skirt, not a purple dress. And she had on a grey sweater.” Peter said quickly, desperation evident in his voice. “And she had a little hairpin in her hair. It was purple with green flowers. Is that enough information?”

“Plenty. Thank you.” The doctor confirmed.

“Please find her." Peter pleaded. You reached out your hand grabbed Matthews elbow.

"My friends are looking for me. Their names are Ned and Peter. Could you get them please?" You asked him and raised a weak arm to point in their direction. Matthew nodded.

"Sure thing." Matthew assured you. You listened to his footsteps walking away and waiting until you heard multiple footsteps coming your way. You painfully turned your neck in time to see Peter and Ned talking to Matthew. Ned was the first to make eye contact with you, immediately alerting Peter by smacking his chest. Peter saw you and his face melted in relief.

Ned and Peter rushed over to you, tripping over their feet as they came. Ned grabbed your hand to steady you as Peter held onto your waist. They helped you stand and set you down on the ground, not letting go until you were stable. Peter immediately enveloped you in a hug and took a deep breath.

"I'm so glad you're okay. I got so worried when I woke up and you with me anymore." Peter whispered into your ear as he embraced you.

"I'm all right. Just a little bruised." You said to assuage his fear. Peter stroked your hair for a moment, then stopped abruptly. He pulled away to look at you, seemingly displeased with what he saw.

"What is it?" You asked.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw something.” Peter said lamely. He looked past you at the bus and stared at it for a moment before swallowing thickly. You chalked his sudden indifference to shock from the crash and rubbed his arm to comfort him.

"ATTENTION STUDENTS. THERE IS A GAS LEAK ON THE BUS. WE NEED TO EVACUATE THE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY." A medical official yelled into a megaphone. Students close to the bus scurried away.

"What's wrong?" Ned asked Matthew, who was still standing nearby.

"There's a small fire in the front of the bus. The gas leak is in the back. If the fire reaches the gasoline, the bus will explode." Matthew said as he began to usher you guys away from the bus. You spotted MJ a few feet ahead and went to check if she was okay.

"Hey, I'll be right back. I forgot something." Peter said to Ned as he ran in the direction of the bus. Ned knew better than to question Peter’s sudden disappearances, so he nodded and followed the rest of the team.

The group stopped walking after they reached a far enough distance from the bus. It began to rain again so the doctors passed out ponchos. You declined on, the rain soothing your aching skin. You could still see the bus from where you were standing. Most students faced away from the bus, but you and Ned stood and watched it. A doctor came to inform you that a new bus was on its way to take you the rest of the way to DC. Students began to call their parents and tell them what was happening. You decided against calling your mom. You already felt anxious and didn't want to get back on a bus after what had happened. You knew your mother would only make your anxiety grow. Feeling scared all of the sudden, you reached out for Peter’s hand. When you couldn’t find it or him, you turned to Ned.

"Where's Peter?" You asked him.

"Right behind us." Ned answered. You looked behind him and saw a crowd of students, but no Peter.

"No he's not." You said, feeling a panic beginning to bubble up inside you.

Ned turned around and looked at the sea of students drenched in the rain.

"I don't get it. He said he'd be right back." Ned muttered, mainly to himself but you caught it.

"What do you mean he'd be right back? Where did he go?" You pressed, your mouth going dry again.

Ned turned back to you with a grave look on his face. He didn't say anything. He just pointed towards the ticking time bomb that out bus had become.

"Peter is on the bus?!" You nearly scream and Ned nods frantically.

“He said he forgot something. He said he’d be right back. He always comes back, he’s- never mind but he always comes back.” Ned shared your panic and you felt nauseous again.

As if on cue, the fire began to spread. The middle of the bus was now engulfed in flames. You acted on an impulse and took off running towards the bus with Ned running after you.

"Y/n, stop! Don’t go near the bus!” Mr. Harrington yelled.

“Y/n! Wait!” Ned called.

You ignored them both and kept running, feet slipping on the wet pavement. Your lungs burned as you got closer and closer to the bus. Suddenly, you were stopped. Your feet left the ground but kept their running motion. Someone was holding you above the ground. You whipped your head around, despite the pain, and saw Ned carrying you away from the sight.

"Ned! Let me go!" You demanded. You managed to get your feet back on the floor but Ned still held you back.

“I can’t. I can’t let you go after him. It’s not safe.” Ned said as he restrained you. You could hear how much it hurt him to stop you.

“I have to get him! He could be trapped.” You began to cry as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“If Peter is in trouble, he can handle it. He’s stronger than you think.” Ned told you. You ignored his statements.

"Ned, let me go this instant or I swear I will never forgive you." You swore as tears fell down your cheeks.

"Peter might not even be there, Y/n. He's probably back with the other students. Maybe we just didn’t didn’t see him. I'm not letting you near that bus. It's going to blow up and it will take you with it." Ned argued. You knew he was only saying it to spare you from the sickening reality: Peter wasn’t coming back this time.

"Let me go!" You cried. You managed to wiggle out of his grasp and get away. You continued to run until you were abruptly thrown backwards at full speed. You could feel burning hot air washing over you and smoke entering your lungs. You landed on the ground with a thud and felt the wind being knocked out of you. You took a few minutes to compose yourself just as Ned caught up to you. He helped you up and checked your for any immediate injuries before looking past you. You both stared at the bus in horror.

It had exploded.

It had exploded with Peter still inside.

“NO!" You screamed in torment. You collapsed onto your knees and felt sobs rip through your body. Ned just stood there with a vacant expression. You could hear doctors yelling at you both but you couldn't understand what they were saying. Firemen entered the scene and controlled the fire.

They were too late.

You were too late.

Peter was already gone.

“Why do students always die when I chaperone?” Mr. Harrington muttered.

You slowly stood up and turned towards Ned.

"I-I'm so sorry Y/n." Ned said softly. You forced yourself to look him in the eyes.

"I could’ve saved him, Ned. You didn't let me go." I muttered angrily. The soot in your throat weakened your voice.

"You would've gotten hurt too." Ned tried to justify.

"Well then at least he wouldn’t have died alone!" You shouted at him with a cracked voice.

Ned looked down at his feet. You bite your trembling lip and turned your back to him, shoulders shaking as you cried. As the smoke began to clear, you saw the silhouette of a body walking towards you. You assumed it was another fireman until he got closer. His shadow wasn’t wearing the bulky fireman uniform you were used too. He seemed to be wearing normal clothes.

"Hello?" You called out.

The man finally came close enough that you could see who it was. You blinked a few times to make sure you were seeing correctly. The man stopped and smiled at you weakly.

"Peter?" You whisper.

"Hey, Y/n.” Peter said in a hoarse voice.

You run towards each other and embrace like it’s the first time in years. You threw your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his torso. You squeeze each other so tight that Peter lets out a groan. You didn’t care enough to let go. You grip his hair and press your body against him, getting as close as possible. Peter buried his head in your shoulder and took in your scent once again.

He put you down after a minute and you tried to refrain from smacking him across the face.

"What were you thinking? You could've died!" You scolded him. As happy as you were to see him, you were also furious that he could be so stupid.

"I know, but I had to get something." He said in his defense.

"Get what?" You asked, desperate to know what he risked his life for.

"This." Peter says. He takes out his closed fist and drops something in your hand. You look at it for a moment in shock as Peter watches your face carefully.

"My hairpin?” You ask in disbelief. “You went back for it?"

"I noticed it wasn't in your hair when we hugged before. I knew it meant a lot to you and I couldn't stand to see you lose it." Peter explained. You felt your heart pound in your ears.

"Lose this? Peter, I could’ve lost you. It wasn't worth risking your life for." You insist, shoving him lightly on the shoulder to prove your point.

"But it was worth seeing how happy you are right now." He justified his actions, a dopey smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile back.

"You didn't have to do that.” You said gently, knowing you couldn’t be mad at him after what he risked for you. “Not for me.”

“I only did it because it was you.” Peter laughed lightly.

“Why?” You asked as Peter pinned your hair back with the hairpin.

“Because it’s nice to have someone who understands.” Peter smiled fondly at you. “I’m going to kiss you now, and if Flash sneezes and interrupts us again I’m gonna-“

You cut Peter off with a gentle kiss to his ash covered lips.

“Don’t worry. No ones ever gonna interrupt us again.” You told him.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona​ @foreverxholland​ @writing-for-hours-on-end​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​  @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human​ @celestial-skylines​ @loveat2am​ @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @delicately-important-trash​ @mjspxrker​ @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @kii-mii​ @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @vgiselle @geeksareunique

[heyitmelexie]

Hey 🥺 could you do Proposal and Gift Giving for the dec. writing challenge please? with Max Lord 🥺🥺🥺 — and tag me in it too! if they’re not already taken, ofcourse. thank youuuu ���✨

Proposal

Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader

Word count: 2336 Warnings: soft!Maxwell Rating: General audiences

A/N: I know I’m a bit late, but at the moment I’m kind of struggling to keep up. Sorry!

Day 10 for the December Writing Challenge by @honeymandos! ❤️

I’ve had quite the struggle writing for Maxwell. He’s a more complex character than I expected. That and my brain refusing to work properly... Yeah. I hope you still like it ❤️ 

 I’m not describing the outfit that reader wears, because that’s all your choice to make! I know from personal experience that I often don’t like the outfits described or shown in reader insert works, so I’ll let you all think about what you’d wear!

I absolutely love calling him Maxie tbh haha

(It’s December in here)  ❤️

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“Come on, baby, hurry. Why are you always taking so long?” You hear Maxwell groan from your bedroom next door, while you are getting ready in your dressing room.

Today is yours and Max’ third anniversary and of course he wants to take you out. Weird was just that he said you should dress a bit more comfortably and warm. Not fancy as usual, dressed head to toe in clothes worth more than a small car.

No, tonight he wants you casual and cosy. And you aren’t complaining, he looks magnificent in his crème-coloured woollen sweater with simple dark jeans and comfortable sneakers.

“Almost done, Maxie!” you call back, checking yourself in the mirror to see if everything is the way you want it to be.

Satisfied with your choice of clothing, you walk back into the bedroom where he stands in front of the bed, arms crossed over his chest.

As soon as he takes a look at you, his features soften and he gives you a gentle smile, the smile only you are allowed to see and it makes your knees weak. He hums in approval and pulls you flush against his chest, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” His rasp sends a shiver down your spine and heat creeps up your face. He grins at you and gives your bum a soft pat before taking your hand to lead you downstairs.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?” you ask him, reaching for your coat. He gently swats your hand away and takes the coat before helping you into it.

“Nope. It’s a surprise” he answers before putting on his trench coat and then his silk scarf. You pout and put on your own scarf. He just chuckles at that.

“Come on, baby, we’re already late.”

You both go outside and get into the car. Maxwell gets into the driver’s seat, which seems a bit weird to you because he doesn’t often drive himself. But you get into the passenger’s seat anyway and a moment later he starts to drive.

*

You had met Maxwell about four years ago. He chose you as his new personal assistant, deeming you the perfect choice after reading your application.

This new job brought you good money, which you really needed, and working for Maxwell was not as bad as everyone else around you were saying.

Maxwell treated you quite well. He was polite towards you, regularly assuring you that you were doing a good job for him and these subtle praises were doing quite the things to you, honestly. You noticed his occasional flirting which left you flustered and flattered. But it was not the pushy flirting other employees had told you about, no, it was subtle and… gentle in a way. Shy. As if he was afraid to scare you away.

You had seen him snap and scream at other employees when they made just the tiniest mistakes, which made you wonder why he was so different with you. But although he was nice to you, you were still afraid to overstep your boundaries, so you held back that question.

One evening you were staying with him in his office until way after 11pm again, helping him with some of the tasks he had to finish. When he looked at his clock and saw how late it was, he had told you to go home and get some sleep, he would finish the rest alone.

“It’s fine, Maxwell” he had offered you to just call him by his name instead of Mr. Lord or Sir a few months into working for him. “We’ll finish this quicker together, you need to sleep as well. Come on, just pull through and we can both go home.” You smile at him and he just huffs, but smiles as well and continues.

“Can’t believe I got so lucky with you. I’d be long lost without you by now” he had said. His praise made your heart beat faster and your smile grew wider.

You worked in comfortable silence for another hour. Once all the tasks were finished, the two of you quickly tidied up the desk and then made your way to the elevator together.

“Let me drive you home. Well, let my chauffeur drive you home. It’s late and I don’t want you to wander around the city all on your own” he said as you stepped into the elevator. He had brought you home before and you always felt more comfortable with him than when you were going home alone. So you accepted, grateful that he offered to drive you (or, well, his chauffeur to drive you). You didn’t want to bother him, so you never asked yourself if he would take you home. You always waited for him to offer it himself.

During the drive to your apartment building, you two made comfortable conversation. Upon arriving, you went to get out of the car, but he gently stopped you by putting a hand on your arm.

“This might be a bit sudden, but can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night maybe?”

You look at him, eyes wide, blinking rapidly. You tried to process what he had just asked you.

Maxwell Lord asked you to go out with him? This must be a dream.

“I uh… I mean, I, yeah why not” you say, still not quite believing he actually asked you out. He flashes you a bright smile that makes your knees wobble, grateful you were still sitting down.

“Perfect, I’ll pick you up at 7pm” he said before taking your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

You muster up a shy smile before exiting the car and walking to your door, grinning like an idiot.

That first date had been wonderful. He had taken you to a fancy, but not high-class restaurant, knowing you wouldn’t feel comfortable. You had told him that once and were surprised to notice he remembered it.

The two of you ate and talked about anything that came to your minds. Your childhoods, how school was for you, college/university, what your dreams were when you were younger. Even about tiny little things like favourite songs, favourite colours, what sort of ice cream you liked the most. It was pleasant and comfortable, you hadn’t wanted the night to end.

When you were back in the street you lived, he got out of the car and stepped around it to open the door for you. He had never done it before and it made your heart stutter for a moment.

Maxwell walked you to your door and when you turned around to say goodnight he just pulled you towards him and kissed you so gently you had to hold onto him, fearing your knees would give out under you. It left your stomach vibrating with the force of thousands of butterflies fluttering in it and your body covered in goosebumps.

After you said goodnight and closed the door behind you, you leaned your back against it and just smiled to yourself, feeling happier than never before.

You proceeded to go out regularly, at least once a week and after the fifth date Maxwell had asked you to be his. And you had happily accepted, loving every second you spent with him and always feeling like a literal deity in his presence.

*

He holds your hand in his during the entire car ride. It’s still light outside but the sun slowly starts to set. Soft snow is falling from the sky in big flakes, covering the roofs of the houses you pass.

You had left New York, wondering where he would take you tonight.

After another 30 minutes he pulls up in front of a small cabin in a little village, a thick layer of snow covering the floor and the roof. You look at him in confusion but he just smiles and gets out of the car, coming around to open the door for you.

You take his hand and step out of the car. He then takes a little suitcase from the backseats which you hadn’t noticed before.

“When did you pack that?” He doesn’t answer and just grins, taking your hand to pull you into the little cabin.

The cabin is cosy. It has a big fireplace with a big couch and a fluffy carpet in front of it. The open kitchen is small but rather modern and a little staircase leads you upstairs to the small bedroom and bathroom. You instantly feel comfortable and smile at him, practically glowing while he attempts to light a fire.

After a few minutes the flames are finally appearing and slowly growing, covering the room in a soft, orange glow.

Maxwell then gently pushes you towards the sofa where you sit and he bends to take off your shoes. You smile at him, gently kissing his forehead.

“You’re so soft tonight, Maxie” you hum, gently caressing his cheek. He turns his head and kisses your palm before making his way into the kitchen to start cooking something.

You didn’t even know he could cook. So you sit there, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape, watching him cook something that, after a little while, smells absolutely fantastic.

What was he planning? He had never cooked for you before.

“Maxie that smells wonderful. Why have you never cooked for us before?” you say, smiling at him when he turns his head to look at you. He just winks and continues to prepare the food, chuckling softly.

“I usually let others cook for us so I can have you in my arms every second or just so I can look at you all the time. But tonight I wanted to be completely alone with you and cook something nice myself. If you’d like it I can cook more often, love.” You hum and nod.

“I’d love that, Maxie.”

You just watch him while he works, admiring the way his back flexes sometimes.

After dinner, the two of you lay on the carpet in front of the fireplace, limbs tangled together. Maxwell gently caresses your arms. It’s peaceful.

“You know… I wanted to ask you something tonight” he says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You look up at him and smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Why so mysterious tonight? You always just ask me when you have a question, baby. What’s wrong?”

His thumb gently strokes over your knuckle and he seems to think about his words.

“Nothing is wrong, darling. I just…” He seemed nervous.

Maxwell Lord, nervous? That worried you.

“Maxie, what-“ you start, but he puts a finger to your lips and gently stops you.

“You know I’m not good with expressing how I feel, verbally.” You nod at that, knowing he is more confident in showing you how he feels.

“But I want to try. For you” he says, a soft blush appearing on his cheeks. You gently squeeze his hand in assurance and wait for him to continue.

“The past almost for years with you and three years of our relationship have been… wonderful. I realized you were the part in my life that was missing. And you complete me, you filled that gap and suddenly it was all… good.” He blinked, trying his hardest to not mess this up.

“I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before and that fills me with… pride. I’m proud that I can make you feel good and wanted and loved. I never thought loving would be easy but with you it’s like I’ve never done anything else.”

That brings tears to your eyes and his free hand gently cups your jaw.

“Maxie…” He softly shushes you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I can’t imagine a life with you anymore. I’d rather die than lose you and I know I could never love anyone like I love you.” He moves to take something out of his back pocket and when he holds it in his open palm you can see a little black velvet box. Your eyes grow wide and a gasp escapes your lips.

“You deserve an hour-long speech where I tell you how much I love you but there aren’t any words that can actually describe my love for you. You’re the most precious thing in my life and I will set the world on fire if anything ever happens to you.” He opens the box and it reveals the most beautiful ring you have ever seen.

“I want you to be mine forever. I want to love you until death tears us apart and I want to continue loving you even after. That is, if you’ll have me. So… do you want to marry me?” He looks at you, puppy eyes, nervous you could reject him.

But how could you ever say no to marrying the love of your life?

You could never.

“Maxie, how is that even a question. Of course!” Tears are streaming down your face but you flash him the biggest smile and he immediately relaxes, a big smile forming on his face as well.

“Fuck, I thought for a moment you’d say now…” You laugh and gently swat his chest.

“Idiot. I love you, Max. I could never say no to marrying you. You’re the love of my life” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles at you and takes the ring out of the box. You hold out your hand for him and he slips the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, putting all your feelings into it and just showing him this way how much you love him.

He hums lowly and wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into him.

This is the first step into forever with Maxwell. And you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

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

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️

@absurdthirst @tangledlove27

[televinita]

I posted 478 times in 2021

240 posts created (50%)

238 posts reblogged (50%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.0 posts.

I added 204 tags in 2021

#queued - 114 posts

#lmao best - 21 posts

#accurate - 13 posts

#glee - 12 posts

#this blog needs more animals - 8 posts

#revolution - 8 posts

#to tortall! - 7 posts

#amazing - 7 posts

#loltastic - 7 posts

#glee music feels - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#though i am pretty sure editing that header into place took all the time i saved by being able to simply screenshot 24 book covers at a time

[edit: top posts behind the cut! they're p. boring]

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I HAZ A CAT

It’s been 84 years -- actually 8 since I’ve had a pet and 2/3rds of my life since I’ve had a cat -- but I am now in possession of one petite, green-eyed, rabbit-furred female tabby (the one I met last week), formally named Katerina but known as Squeaky because of her mews.

She is shy and easily spooked by movement and/or noises (ex. every time someone comes home and unlocks the front door she becomes an instant streak of lightning to her “den” under the bed), but she warms up pretty quickly again after getting scared. She does not currently jump onto beds, climb into laps, curl up next to you or seek to be picked up, but if you hold your hand down or sit on the floor, she will endlessly head-butt your palm and/or rub her chin against your knuckles, arch her back end to the sky as you run your hand down her body while she moves forward, and then turn around to repeat the process until she is satisfied and wanders away.

She may also flop down and roll from side to side, exposing her incredibly fluffy tummy fur, and purr luxuriously while you stroke said fluffy tummy. It’s not even a trap, she loves it. MY DREAM!!

(Also today she was hanging out in her cat tree next to me on the computer, and when I stood up to pet her there she went CRAZY with affection, purring and rolling and then putting her paws on my chest to stick her face in mine and rub her head and chin all over. She also has decided that sitting on top of my computer tower under the desk is a fabulous perch, whether it’s on or not and whether I’m there or not.)

So anyway, now if I’m not updating it’s probably because I’m very distracted by my Cat, whom I brought home 3 days ago and yet am just now getting around to telling you about.

(I don’t have pictures yet because I suck at taking them, but maybe someday! She has a really cute black smudge mark on the bridge of her nose and her most common pose so far is lying on the floor with one leg stretched out in front of her.)

6 notes • Posted 2021-06-02 03:57:19 GMT

#4

Should you change your name when you get married? NOT IF IT’S DURING A PANDEMIC.

As I am finding out, Social Security offices are closed, so you have to mail in your application to get a card with your new name. Which means mailing documents.

To prove your identity, you basically have to provide your passport or driver’s license (there are some other documents technically accepted, but I don’t have them or they don’t include the required info). And I don’t have a passport.

When I asked how long it would take to get my documents back, they said SIX TO EIGHT WEEKS.

Why would anyone think anyone is fine just...not having their driver’s license for TWO. MONTHS???

6 notes • Posted 2021-01-05 22:40:40 GMT

#3

QUESTION

Has it ever been a rich-person thing to like...build your own library? Not the standard library inside a house, but an actual freestanding building that’s just rows and rows of shelves expressly to hold books? I feel like if I had enough money and land, I would build an outbuilding or two just for this purpose.

I just find it hard to imagine a house, even one with a lot of rooms, ever having enough wall space to hold all the books a person might want to own, while a room filled with aisles of shelves inside a home feels...not aesthetically pleasing, even though it’s amazing in a space designed for that purpose.

6 notes • Posted 2021-09-02 15:20:50 GMT

#2

Despite being a totally indoor cat, our poor kitty has managed to get very sick -- sneezing 5-10 times in a row several times a day, eye discharge, seems to have a very stuffed up nose and a bit of trouble breathing through it. She didn’t greet me this morning, staying in her paper bag den for hours instead, and didn’t even react to catnip, which is unsettling (though she’s still eating okay, and happily accepted Treats).

She’s been like this for a couple of days and Google tells me that indoor cats can in fact catch colds and that they might go away on their own after 4-5 days, but she seems SO miserable that I feel like I should make a vet appointment now. But also IDK. Any cat owners want to weigh in?

7 notes • Posted 2021-12-05 20:59:00 GMT

#1

“When you receive this, list five things that make you happy and tag the last ten people in your notifications” 

I have been tag-summoned by @empress-of-spooks

1. Petting cute, friendly (or even indifferent, as long as they hold still) animals

2. Books! Reading, writing about, shopping for, or organizing them

3. A long walk in a pretty place in nice weather

4. Historic mansions

5. Hot pizza + icy-cold vanilla Coke Zero

time to tag mostly strangers: @bannachocolatta; @samanrahimian; @beautyinsteadofashes; @dollsome-does-tumblr; @eevulpix-blog; @accidental-spice; @magicisabluewish; @kateschechterxthorwasmyfirstotp; @vampbellalune17-blog...and okay I'm tired of scrolling, so one short.

16 notes • Posted 2021-10-17 15:20:37 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[degrassi-fanatic]

Stay Awhile

As Prentiss steps out of her car, she can already see the clusters of families standing around in the parking lot. Not too far away from them, the children are already dressed in their soccer uniforms, warming up for their game on the field.

Ducking back down to her car, she reaches across the driver’s seat to the passenger side and retrieves two yellow paper bags dotted with white stars; one with a small tag that reads ‘Henry LaMontagne’ and the other ‘Jack Hotchner’. With a bag in each hand, Prentiss uses her foot to kick the door shut behind her.

Although she’s only been standing in the parking lot for a couple of seconds, she can already feel the sun beating down on her sensitive skin; never has she been more grateful for JJ’s constant nagging about sunscreen application. It feels like the hottest day of the summer and she’s sure by the time Reid arrives, he will have read dozen weather reports to back up her claim.

Prentiss maneuvers past numerous trophy wives and bored looking husbands to make her way over to the metal bleachers. As she looks over the tops of their heads, she tries to scan the rows to find any familiar faces.

“Emily!” she hears someone call out.

Near the top of the bleachers, Prentiss spots Will standing up from his seat as he waves to get her attention. She can’t help but notice that there isn’t anyone else up there with him.

Oh no.

It’s not that she hates Will. She doesn’t.

It’s just rather awkward to try and maintain a conversation with a person when you essentially stole their girlfriend from them.

In Will’s defense, he’s never outright called Prentiss a homewrecker. In fact, he’s always so kind and courteous to her; Will invites her and JJ over for dinner with him and Henry, he always asks about her wellbeing when he calls JJ for whatever reason, Will even had Henry bring her a gift for Christmas when he was staying with his mother for the week.

He may not have called Prentiss a homewrecker but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. It doesn’t mean that the thought isn’t somewhere in deep recesses of his mind.

Usually, Prentiss doesn’t have to stress over talking to Will but that’s only because they always have JJ or Henry there to act as a buffer between the two of them and stop a potential conflict from arising.

Now, however, JJ is nowhere in sight, Henry is out on the field, and Prentiss is a moment away from fleeing the scene.

The only reason she doesn’t is because she doesn’t need Will talking to JJ about how her girlfriend ran like a mad woman before their son’s soccer game.

Prentiss takes in a deep breath as she climbs the steps, making it to the top far quicker than she wanted to. Will motions for her to take a seat next to him with an easy smile. Once she’s sitting, Will bumps shoulders with her good naturedly.

“Hey,” she greets politely as she sets the gift bags down by her feet, “Where’s JJ?”

“JJ forgot to buy the brownies for the potluck after the game.” he answers with a little laugh, “And now she’s probably speeding down the roads to get here in time.”

His slight at JJ’s driving loosens up the knot in her chest but, not by much though.

“What about the others?” she asks, for the lack of anything better to add.

“Aaron and Spencer are getting the Gatorade from the car. Dave’s on the sidelines, helping the kids warm up,” Will informs as he points to a far away figure that Prentiss assumes is Rossi, “Penelope and Derek are running late because they woke up with hangovers from their alcohol binge last night.”

She lets out a chuckle at Garcia and Morgan’s predicament. Why on Earth they decided to go out to bars the night before a children’s soccer game, Prentiss will never know. She’s just glad that she decided to turn down their offer.

As Will picks up a water bottle from the ground, he glances over to the yellow gift bag near Prentiss’s feet.

“What’s that?” he asks curiously before unscrewing the cap of the bottle.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s a gift,” she says, “For Jack and Henry.”

“That’s so sweet, Emily.” Will practically coos, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Although Will flashes her what she would consider a sincere smile from anyone else, Prentiss cannot help but wonder if he’s having any of those thoughts about her being a homewrecker right now.

His hands reach for the tops of the gift bag labelled for Henry but before he touches it, he looks up at her.

“May I?” he asks, waiting for permission.

Prentiss nods.

As he pushes past the sheets of colourful tissue to get to the actual gift, Prentiss grows more anxious with every passing second. Her back goes ramrod straight. She begins to rock herself gingerly as she smooths her palms down her thighs.

She watches as Will pulls out the Lego set with gentle fingers.

There’s no real reason why Prentiss had bought it. She had been simply wandering through the mall when she spotted the set displayed in the window of some toy store. From the moment she casted her eyes on it, she felt some inexplicable pull to purchase it. For two weeks it had sat on the floor of her closet until Prentiss could find an excuse to give it to the boy she had in mind.

“My God, Emily.” he breathes out.

Her stomach drops. Her hands stop moving.

“Is it bad?” she questions urgently, “Because I can return it, if it—”

“No, no,” Will interrupts gently, “It’s just that Henry’s been raving about this exact Lego set for the past month.”

“He has?”

“I thought JJ would’ve told you.” he mumbles to himself as he stares at the box, “God, it’s perfect. He’s going to love it.”

He looks up from the gift to give her another one of his grins and a wave of guilt courses through Prentiss.

How could she have ruined this man’s family?

“I’m sorry, Will.” she blurts out.

“Pardon?” he asks as he places the box back into the gift bag.

“I’m sorry for everything,” she explains as she waves her hand between them, “For the whole thing between you, me, and JJ.”

As Will sets the bag back down on the ground, he shoots her a puzzled look. His brows furrowed together, while he’s deep in thought.

“You’re not seriously apologizing for dating your girlfriend, are you?” he asks.

“I, uh, I…” Prentiss stammers as she searches for the right words, “Yes?”

“Listen, Emily,” Will begins to speak as he turns to face her, their knees knocking, “I loved JJ, and I still love her, as the mother of my child. And I know she loves me too because I’m the father of her kid too. We parted on good terms.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about being with her.”

Will grabs her hand between the two of them and gives it a gentle squeeze.

Not for the first time, Prentiss can understand why JJ used to be in love with Will. He’s a good guy. He’s one of the best guys Prentiss knows.

“You don’t think I’m overstepping right now?” she asks, “I mean, I’m at your son’s soccer game.”

“Because he wants you here and so does JJ, and so do I.” he reminds her with another squeeze of her hand before letting it go.

“You do?”

“Course I do,” he reassures with a chuckle, “I have a feeling you’re going to be staying awhile.”

Although her face is no doubt red, she returns Will’s smile with a nod. She’s saved from having to respond by JJ’s sudden arrival. Her hands are full of store bought brownies and her car keys.. The strap of her purse is starting to slide off her shoulder. The only thing taming her hair is a pair of sunglasses perched at the top of her head.

“Hey guys,” she says a little breathless as she sits down beside Prentiss, “I’m not late, am I?”

Both Will and Prentiss shake their heads, their eyes bright with amusement at JJ’s disheveled state.

“They’re still warming up.” he informs her.

“Oh thank god.” JJ lets out as her shoulders finally sag with relief.

Without thinking too hard about it, Prentiss wrestles one of JJ’s hands free from the container of brownies, and does something she never used to do in front of Will; she plants a soft kiss on the back of it.

[breanime]

Dynamite (Part Three)

*cover by @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown​*

Part Three: Ain’t No Way

“So…” Mike’s fingers drummed against the wheel. “…explain to me how you know this woman again?”

Johnny sighed. He was standing next to the driver’s side of the van, securing his guns and knives on his body underneath his clothes. “She was my first love. I thought… maybe…we’d get married some day.”

“Hm… Right… Okay, so now explain to me how this is a good idea?” Mike said back.

“Look, Mikey,” Charlies’ voice sounded through the radio, and Mike lifted it so Johnny could hear it better, “Galindo is looking for a bodyguard for his wife, and this is an excellent way to get eyes on him.”

“I agree,” Mike said, frowning, “But I still don’t see why that has to be John…” He glanced over at Johnny. “No offense.”

“Some taken, Mikey,” Johnny quipped back, “actually—a lot taken. Actually, fuck you, Mikey.”

“I just…” Mike lowered his voice, leaning his head out of the window. “… I don’t know if this is a good idea, Johnny… This isn’t just some random asset, you knew this girl… Had feelings for her.”

“Yeah,” Johnny grunted back, “I’m aware.”

“We needed a fluent Spanish speaker with a military background,” Briggs said over the radio, already anticipating Mike’s hesitation, “Plus, his connection to the asset can be used to his advantage, Agent Warren.” He didn’t add how he thought this could be good for Johnny.

“But what if she makes him?” Mike asked back.

“She won’t,” Johnny replied easily. He was sure of that.

“This is a smooth op,” Briggs added, “Mike is outside the McMansion, Charlie and I are a few miles away, Paige is working surveillance…if we lose Johnny on the watch, we’ll swoop in.”

“You do have your watch, don’t you, Johnny?” Charlie asked. The watch, of course, was a small microphone; if things got hot or Johnny needed help, all he had to do was click a button on the watch, and the team would come to his recuse. And if/when everything went smoothly, they’d have some audio of Miguel Galindo that could be useful once they made the arrest.

Johnny held it up, flashing it to Mike. “Yup.”

“Watch confirmed,” Mike said into the radio, “also, Johnny is glowing right now,” he grinned.

Briggs laughed, and Charlie chuckled on the other side of the radio as Johnny flicked Mike off. “I’m always glowing,” he said back, “Look at me, Mikey; I’m a stallion.”

“Alright, well, time to saddle up, Ponyboy,” Paige said into the radio, “Galindo is pulling up now. It’s showtime.”

Thirty minutes later, Johnny was being escorted into the Galindo home by a serious looking guy with braids. The guy had patted him down, taking (most of) his weapons before leading him through the house. Johnny followed the guy into the living room, marveling silently at the house—Briggs hadn’t been wrong when he called it a McMansion. Johnny was led to the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Galindo were waiting for him, and wow…

…You were even more beautiful than he’d remembered.

You were dressed in all white, the cloth hugging your curves perfectly, accentuating that shape that he so adored, dripping in expensive jewelry—including the fucking rock that was your wedding ring.

You watched Miguel greet Johnny with a handshake, and you pinched your palm, reminding yourself to act like this was just any other day, and Johnny was just any other applicant. He looked so good, his face more mature and filled out, his body clearly in pristine shape… God, your heart felt like it was beating a mile a minute as so many familiar feelings flooded back to you.

“And this is my wife,” Miguel said, holding his hand out to you.

You stepped up and clasped hands with Johnny. His eyes were devouring you, and you wondered what he was thinking. As soon as your hand touched his, you felt a fire ignite inside of you. You were in front of him again, you were with him again; Johnny Tuturro, your first love…

Except this wasn’t really him. It was his face and body, but you reminded yourself that he was going by a different name. He was Johnny Serrano right now, and you needed to figure out why. You assumed he was working for one of Miguel’s many enemies, but the question was: which one? And even though he was surely there as a threat toy our husband, damn if you weren’t happy to see him.

Johnny stepped back from you, his heart doing flips in his chest. He wanted to grab you and hold you to him, wanted to ask you what in the whole hell you were doing with a fucking cartel leader, but he stayed put. He had a job to do. When he’d first learned the love of his life was married to a violent criminal, he’d been shocked, but the shock had quickly turned to a burning determination. He had to stay focused on the job. The Bureau had sent him with an objective: collect intel on Miguel Galindo’s illegal activities and shut him down. Johnny, however, had his own agenda: YOU.

“So, Mr. Serrano,” Miguel said, “have a seat.”

Johnny sat down across from you and your husband, making an effort to keep his eyes on Miguel and not you. Miguel’s friend with the braids was standing behind him, observing silently. Miguel asked Johnny questions about his military background, laughing at Johnny’s cocky answer of “it’s classified”. They discussed hours and expectations and Johnny’s credentials (most of which were true), before Miguel turned to you.

“What do you think, mi amor?”

Johnny almost cringed at the name—and he noticed you winced at well. “He’s impressive,” you said, your voice measured, “at least on paper.”

“I guarantee you that my resumé doesn’t do me justice, Mrs. Galindo,” he said back.

Miguel laughed. “I like the confidence,” he said, sitting back with his arm around your shoulders, “But let’s see those skills you learned from the Navy… Nestor.”

Nestor—the guy with the braids—walked over and took out a gun, pointing it down at Johnny. Johnny looked over at Miguel with an eyebrow raised.

Miguel’s dark eyes were watching him closely, and so were you. “Disarm him.”

You held your breath, unsure of what Miguel’s plan was, heart pounding.

Johnny stood up, and in a flash, he had the gun in his hands, had ejected the clip, popped the bullet in the chamber, and had it pressed against Nestor’s forehead, right between the eyes. Nestor’s eyes were wide, and Miguel smirked, clearly impressed.

You, however, were turned on.

Miguel stood up, taking your hand and helping you to your feet. “I’ve never seen Nestor disarmed before,” he said, grinning, “Very impressive, Mr. Serrano… Come, follow me.”

Miguel lead your small group down to the basement, where he essentially had a gun range set up. He turned to Johnny, nodding with his head to Nestor. Nestor produced another gun and handed it over to Johnny. “Hit the targets,” Miguel ordered.

Johnny glanced over at you; you looked so good, but so wrong next to Miguel. He took a breath, turning to the targets. He lifted the gun, feeling the weight of it—it had a full clip, he could tell. He closed his right eye and aimed.

You watched, mesmerized, as Johnny hit every target, tagging all the hot spots: middle of the head, heart, lungs, throat, in just a matter of seconds. You’d always known Johnny was an athlete, but you’d never seen him like this before. He used up all of the rounds, tucking the gun in his waistband before he reached down, pulled a knife that he’d had strapped to his ankle, and tossed it clear across the room, hitting a dummy right between he eyes, making you gasp.

Miguel quirked an eyebrow at you before turning his gaze to Nestor. “How’d you miss that?” He asked, referring to the knife.

Nestor opened his mouth, and you could see the embarrassment in his eyes.

Johnny stepped up, handing Nestor his empty gun back. “Don’t sweat it, homie,” he said causally, “Hiding weapons on your person is just one of the many skills I acquired during my time as a SEAL.”

Miguel chuckled, his hand on your waist as he moved forward, leading you all back upstairs. He praised Johnny as you walked, and you felt a strange burst of pride as your husband gushed about your ex-boyfriend coupled with a sense of disgust. Miguel was never supposed to be around Johnny. Johnny was the sun, and Miguel was the moon. Seeing them together, your source of light and the darkness that was your husband, was unsettling—even more so because you still didn’t know Johnny’s intentions. “So,” Miguel turned to you before looking back at Johnny, “we should be in touch to—”

“—You start tomorrow,” you declared, trying to keep your expression somewhere between bored and decided.

Miguel’s jaw twitched. “My love… He’s good, but we still have two other applicants…”

“It’s my bodyguard, right?” You said back, standing on the little bit of dignity you had as Miguel’s wife. “My decision. I don’t want to waste any more time with interviews and resumés.” You looked over at Johnny. “This guy can have the job. Does that work for you, Mr…?”

Johnny bit back a grin. “Serrano,” he finished for you, “That works fine for me, Mrs. Galindo.”

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

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!

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[canyouhearthelight]

SUPERB question I got on my recent post about privilege:

She is completely correct. There are a lot of laws and processes that have to change to stop this.

This list isn't comprehensive, but more an addition to the lists I've seen. I'm not a law student, and I'm not going to pretend I know every single flaw in our system. I'm still learning to see the flaws, so please feel free to add things and/or correct me.

1) Defund the police, and allocate those bloated budgets to education and community infrastructure.

A) Poorly funded schools create a vicious feedback loop that leaves all people of color, but ESPECIALLY black people, at a disadvantage later in life. Educational funding should be equal to or greater than any law enforcement funding, and teachers should earn more than a living wage.

B) There is no excuse for bad streets, crumbling buildings, and inconsistent utilities in different parts of the same city that also has an area with groomed medians, smooth roads, parks, and sidewalks. There's no sense in that. And it isn't the residents. It's the city who is responsible for keeping these things up. Residents have actually gotten in trouble for fixing broken infrastructure.

2) ALL first responders should have proper training and certification, specifically similar to nurses and special education teachers - nonviolent de-escalation techniques, rigorous background checks, proper restraint techniques that don't injure much less kill people, renewable at the expense if the person being certified every 2 years.

3) Decriminalize victimless crimes. The war on drugs was a sham, it was only intended to incarcerate people of color en mass and remove their right to vote, greatly limit their ability to hold better paying jobs, and enslave them legally. So decriminalize possession and use of drugs on a federal level, let them go.

4) Add to the EEOA legal limits on what felonies a person can be declined employment over, with burden of justification falling on the employer, along with limits to how old that conviction can be.

5) Nameless application process for all jobs. No names, no ethnicity, no gender presentation. Every application is assigned an ID#, just like a loan application, and all contact is done through a portal until the interviewee is approved or denied. Financial incentives for businesses that do this for the first 5 years until it is mandatory. Stop the binning of applications/resumes because of names. This includes application for internal promotion.

6) No. More. Private. Prisons. No one should be profiting off incarcerated people. Period.

7) Either let non-white collar criminals vote, or they don't count in your constituency. No more counting them one way and not counting them another way.

8) Mandatory rehabilitation and therapy programs in prisons, by licensed and certified professionals who are subject to random observation with no warning to ensure they are not abusing their position and actually doing their job.

9) Abolish the electoral college, go by popular vote.

10) Mandatory voting for all registered voters ($100 fine for non-compliance), but also making it easier to vote. I can take the freaking Census online, file my taxes online, renew my driver's license and tags online... why can't I vote online? WHY? Online voting with longer early voting periods would enable everyone to vote, and prevent things like 4 hour wait times for people in mostly-black districts.

11) Make all forms of racism illegal. I don't know how we can implement this, but obviously we white people can't be trusted to stop being racist on our own. And I'm not joking or being sarcastic. Every day, we see more and more examples of this in action. Racism isn't victimless, in case the lynchings and deaths in the news didn't sink in. In case anyone hasn't seen the mental health statistics, suicide rates, or general health statistics for people of color versus white people. Wealth gap = health gap.

12) Speaking of health: all healthcare workers need to be required to have specific training on all ethnicities and genders. Medical studies need to be re-done with an actual cross sample of the population, not just white men (or white women in women-specific studies). ALL OF THEM. People of color should not be under diagnosed or flat out misdiagnosed because you don't know how this very important symptom presents!

That is all I have right now. I'll think on it and try again. Please message me if I got any of this wrong, it didn't think something through to the end. I'm trying to straddle the line between not expecting black people to educate me and being willing to listen.

EDIT: I am trying to figure out where I can start to get these things done.

[twiceblackvelvet]

Can I request a ceo playgirl Tzuyu x fem reader ? Where reader makes tzuyu believe in love? Thank you in advance and love your writing so much!

A/N; thank you so much. i have seen requests like this before where the writer places the character insert as an employee of the ceo character but i decided to try something a little bit different. also, i’ve got to be honest, i struggled to picture Tzuyu as a playgirl so this may not be too good but i hope you enjoy🖤

For the last two years, you’ve been single. Whilst you’d love to say it’s been a peaceful time-period for you, the two girls currently sitting in front of you have made it nigh on impossible. Nayeon and Sana have been your best friends since you were children but their unhealthy obsession with your dating life is beginning to become unbearable.

Sitting down to lunch, the conversation between the three of you quickly landed on the topic of what they consider your lonely, boring life. They’re animatedly discussing a brand new dating app that some wannabe hipster rich boy has created.

“So basically, you set up a profile and decide whether you wish to be the finder or the seeker. The finder is anyone looking to earn extra money by accompanying the seeker to events, parties, galas and all those other fancy things that rich people attend. They pay you for your service as their fake date and you can decide if you wish to stick with them or move onto the next millionaire. You both rate each other based on how compatible you felt the date went, it’s all very professional.” 

Nayeon’s explanation of the application deserves to be placed into an advert, she’s seemingly looked into it very thoroughly before presenting the idea of you signing up. 

The idea of dating some pretentious, stuck up person with too much wealth for their own good does not sound appealing whatsoever, and yet as you think about your dead-end job and various bills that are quickly mounting into an enormous chunk of your bank account being whisked away from you at the end of the month, you can’t help but give it a second thought.

“We both have profiles, there’s no shame in it. You don’t have to sleep with them or anything, well... unless you want to. You’re basically just arm candy for them to show off to all of their friends that they aren’t losers who isolate themselves to their offices to flirt with numbers and stocks. Trust me, it’s sad for them not you.” Sana adds.

“Fine, but if I end up with some weirdo who tries to get a little handsy, I’ll hunt you both down.”

A high-pitched squeal is all Nayeon and Sana gives you in response as they get to work in setting up a profile for you. Surely nothing will go wrong, right?

It’s been three days since the app has been taking up space on your phone. No messages. No notifications. Nothing. It’s not like you’re mindlessly checking it every couple of hours to check that your friends didn’t include something embarrassing that has been turning every potential seeker away from you, but it is starting to play on your self-conscious every now and then. Even more so when Nayeon reveals she has been on four dates since your lunch meeting.

Just as you’re about to switch off for the night and get some well-needed shut-eye, a small vibration emanates from your bedside dresser where your phone is placed.

[YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSSAGE]

The bold lettering alongside the app’s logo lights up your bedroom. Truthfully speaking, your curiosity is in fact piqued for a split second until you realize it’s almost 3 AM and anyone using a dating app at this hour can’t be a good sign. You decide to still check who has sent you a message but only so you can tell them to get better nighttime hobbies.

However, what greets you when the app loads the singular message is tame compared to the despicable things you expected to see. 

Hello. My name is Chou Tzuyu, I am the CEO of Chou Technology. You’ll have to forgive my being blunt but I am a bit of a newbie to this here app. If you are free tomorrow, I’d like to meet with you to discuss potentially accompanying me to a business event that I am attending the following night.  If this is something you are interested in I will schedule a time-slot and give you instructions on what to wear and where we will be meeting. I know this is all very last minute but please let me know as soon as possible. Thank you.

God, just reading the message has given you a slight headache. This girl couldn’t be any more business before pleasure if she tried. You decide to click onto her profile picture to get a better sense of who she is to help you decide whether to agree to meet her or delete the message. 

Flawless golden skin, wide cat-like brown eyes, plump red lips formed into a small smile and hazelnut brown hair accentuate all of the features perfectly. You definitely did not expect the person behind such a straight-forward and bland message to be quite as beautiful as the girl you’re currently looking at through your screen. Upon scrolling through the images, you can see her alongside a small Maltese dog, posing with several other women who you assume are her friends, in a business suit outside of her company building which reveals that she’s fairly tall and her figure is to die for. All in all, you’re sold that either this woman is a catfish with impeccable Photoshop skills or there really is a goddess-like beauty using this shady app when she could probably bag anyone possible.

Hi Tzuyu. Yes, I’d love to meet with you tomorrow, anytime is fine for me just let me know.

You hesitate for several minutes debating on whether or not to add an emoji to make things a bit more casual between the two of you. You eventually decide against it and hit send. The follow-up reply comes a lot quicker than you expected.

Great. 1 PM @ Jungsik.

A quick search reveals that Jungsik is a restaurant not far from your apartment, however, the reviews and images show that it’s rather expensive and definitely way out of your very small budget. 

Would it be possible for us to meet elsewhere? It isn’t exactly in my price-range nor will I have anything remotely fancy enough to wear to a place like that.

Three small bubbles appear and disappear several times with Tzuyu’s face beside them. You begin to worry that she’s going to cancel and realize that someone like you probably isn’t a good fit for attending the event alongside her.

Send me your address. My driver will pick you up with an outfit for you to change into and dinner will be on me.

You must be dreaming. There’s no way any of this can be real. You read the words several times to try and kickstart your brain into processing them properly and despite believing they’d disappear or change into another message, it remains the same. You consider pinching yourself to double-check but decide against it. Your fingers disobey your thoughts about it being a bad idea to give Tzuyu your address as they lightly tap on the screen to tell her where you live. 

You wait for a response but it never comes. You can see that Tzuyu has read the message though and decide to finally get some rest.

Sure enough, at 12:30 PM. the buzzer to your apartment goes off and a gentleman speaks through the intercom summoning you on behalf of one Miss Chou. Entering the sleek looking car with blacked-out windows, you quickly realize that this Tzuyu woman is from an entirely different world to the one you are used to. A white box is resting beside you and the driver instructs you to put it on. 

You open up the box and pull out a black satin mini dress. The texture of the item alone calls you broke but you also notice that whoever purchased the item forgot to remove the price tag. Your jaw almost hits the floor upon seeing that it’s worth more than three times your monthly salary. Again, you’re left to question whether any of this can possibly be real until the car suddenly comes to a stop. 

“I’ll step out now to let you change but please be quick. Miss Chou does not like to wait.” The driver says as he exits the vehicle.

You change into the dress as fast as humanly possible and exit also. You follow him through a set of doors into the stylish restaurant. This is no doubt be the cleanliest place you’ve ever eaten and worlds apart from the diner you’d regularly visit on your work breaks. Oh, how the other side lives you think.

“The table at the back, blue jacket. Enjoy.” The driver directs you towards a woman with her back facing you and hurriedly leaves. 

Your steps towards the table are hesitant and you can’t help but smooth out the new dress several times in fear you aren’t wearing it correctly or rather doing such a fancy item of clothing justice. When you finally reach the table where Tzuyu is seated you decide upon clearing your throat to gain her attention instead of sitting straight down. She stands to face you and her eyes scan over your entire body on the way up.

Even in high-heels, Tzuyu is still somehow towering above you both in height and demeanor. She’s elegant and graceful in her movements and you instantly feel self-conscious under her intense gaze. The pictures of her showed you that she is beautiful and yet here before you, they do not fully do her justice as she’s that and more. 

“Please, sit.” She motions you towards the chair opposite her own and waits for you to be seated until she herself does the same. “Thank you for joining me. I hope the dress is adequate enough, I had to guess your size based on your pictures. I wasn’t sure if it was something you’d like but it felt like a safe guess.”

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” She nods at your graciousness and moves to pick up one of the menus, when you go to do the same she grasps your hand and prevents you from doing so. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to order for both of us.” You drop your hand back to beside your lap and allow her to inform the waiter she’d like you to have her usual whilst she goes for filet mignon. “It’s by far the best dish, you won’t be disappointed.” 

However, when a lobster dish is presented before you, you can’t help but feel out of place. Tzuyu is quick to notice your confusion and fears she has in fact let you down before she’s even been able to present her plan for you to join her next week to you. 

“Is everything okay? Do you have an allergy? Is it not cooked to your standard?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just, well… I’ve never eaten lobster before. I’m unsure of where to start.” A laugh lodges itself in Tzuyu’s throat with your words. “I’m glad you find my lack of fine-dining experience funny.” You roll your eyes annoyed at her clear arrogance. 

“I promise you, I am not laughing at you. I was once the same, I had no idea about any of this kind of stuff for a long time.” She offers you a genuine smile as she stands to move beside your seat to show you how to properly remove the flesh and what not to eat. “There you go, this stuff here is fine but this is the shell. Unless you wish to choke, stay clear of it.” 

Before you can truly think about it, words just begin flying out of your mouth after seeing such a kind action from by far the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever laid eyes upon.

“I have to ask, how come you’re using that app? If you don’t mind me saying, you’re a beautiful and charming woman. I don’t understand how you’re possibly single.” 

A more genuine and louder laugh exits Tzuyu’s mouth this time and for the first time, you can see that this is the real her and not the person she must try hard to present.

“Well, for a lot of years I struggled to see the appeal of commitment. I had plenty of companions to fill my spare time, however, none of them were ever the right for me. The position I’m hoping you will fill is somewhat different. As far as the women I have previously engaged with, I’d rather not show up to something like this with someone I have had casual sex with on my arm.”

Your face must be in a stunned state as Tzuyu continues to chuckle looking deeply into your eyes. Her honesty is weirdly refreshing and unsettling at the same time.

“I apologize if my bluntness surprises you, I just figure it’s best if we are both honest with each other here. In fact, that leads me to my next question,” She lightly brushes her mouth with a napkin before continuing. “Are you currently dating or meeting with anyone else from the application?”

Not willing to ruin the flow of honesty between the two of you, you tell Tzuyu that she is the first to reach out to you and that you wouldn’t be using the app if you were dating. She seems surprisingly happy with your answer though you’re unsure why. 

“That’s… good. I’d like it very much if you would keep it that way until I am sure that I no longer need your services. I don’t believe you will run in the same circles as those attending the event but I have to be sure.” You nod along not wishing to interrupt her thoughts. “Don’t worry, the event may be formal but I promise you the people attending will all be far too busy discussing themselves to bother you much. If you feel uncomfortable, simply tell me you need some fresh air and I will make sure to get you out of there.”

So far, Tzuyu is too good to be true. You will have to thank Nayeon and Sana for convincing you to sign-up for this app. 

“I will have another dress delivered to you in the morning with suitable shoes and accessories. Do you have a-” Tzuyu physically stops herself from finishing her question and curses to herself. “I will also send a stylist to take care of your hair, make-up and anything else you’re worried about.” 

“Are you sure all of this is necessary? I’m no one special Miss Chou.” The use of her family name stirs up a dark expression as Tzuyu’s eyes appear to be mentally undressing you. She shakes herself out of it before you can take notice of it. 

“Yes, you are. It may have been on short notice when I contacted you but quite frankly, you are a naturally beautiful person. I have seen plenty of attractive people within my life but none more so than you. Why do you think I have gone to all of this trouble thus far? I don’t just do this kind of thing for anyone. The majority of my relationships are a one-time thing that are not given the chance to progress further.” 

Once again, Chou Tzuyu has managed to confuse you. Your eyebrows have never felt so scrunched together quite as tightly as they are now. 

“What exactly are you saying?” is all you can whisper out in response.

“I’m saying that I’d like for you to attend this event with me. But, more importantly, I’d quite like it if you’d agree to do something like this with me more often. I will gladly pay you for your services tomorrow night in making me look good in front of a bunch of boring, old businessmen. Afterward, I’d like for you to allow me to date you. I can’t say that it will be an easy thing for either of us as I still very much so fear commitment, but I am hoping to learn, for you.” 

This time, you do pinch yourself to make sure everything you’re hearing is real and the stinging in your arm confirms you’re not currently dreaming. Your brain is running at a thousand miles-per-hour and struggling to formulate clear thoughts. 

“You do not need to answer now, attend the event with me. We can get to know each other whilst everyone else inflates their own ego. Then, we can see where things lead us. How does that sound?”

Truthfully, it sounds like a whirlwind, and yet you can’t help but agree.

“It sounds lovely.”

[babygirlkiki1016]

The Hunt Begins

When we got to Stanford Dean told me just to wait outside by the Impala. About twenty minutes later I hear voices coming from the building. I see Dean take a glance at me to see if I was still there. Sam was saying something but Dean just rolls his eyes.

"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors." I heard Sam say as they cross the parking lot to the Impala.

"So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean growls.

"No. Not normal. Safe." 

"And that's why you ran away." Dean looks away.

"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Sam is silent.

"I can't do this alone."

"Yes you can." I joke, making both of the boys look at me. 

"Yeah, well, as Y/n pointed out earlier which you weren't here for, I don't want to."

"Wait, that's Y/n? Y/D/N's kid?" Sam asked surprised. "You brought his kid here?! Do you know what he's going to do to us when he realizes she's missing!?"

"Uh I believe he already knows." I interrupt.

"Look, she wanted to come so I didn't stop her besides she's eighteen." Dean points out. Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then up.

"What was he hunting?" Sam asked as Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment, it's an arsenal.

"Holy crap this is cool!" I exclaimed as Dean props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

"I know right? All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asks.

"I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Dean looks over at Sam.

"I'm twenty-six, dude."

"And then you went to Y/D/N for help?"

"That's about right, she offered to help cause her father wouldn't." Dean pulls some papers out of a folder. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy." Dean hands one of the papers to Sam, I look over his shoulder to see. "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA. The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined Centennial Highway Disappearance and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned Andrew Carey MISSING." Sam reads it and glances up.

"So maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April." Dean hands me a Jericho Herald article for each date he mentions. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years." Dean takes the article's back from us and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder. "All men, all the Same five-mile stretch of road." Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." He grabs a handheld tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday." He presses play, the recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

"Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger...and if you can...Y/D/N's kid." Dean presses stop.

"Wait...he mentioned me." I say silently.

"What does dad want with Y/n?" Sam asks.

"I don't know that's why I went to your dad. So whatever is going on, obviously your part of it."

"Well other than the creepy message involving me, you know there's EVP on that?" I said.

"Not bad, Y/n. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He presses play again.

"I can never go home..." Was the voice that was heard, Dean presses stop.

"Never go home." Sam comments, trying to think what it could mean. Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it. "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back. "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." Sam submits, Dean nods. "But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." Sam turns to go back to the apartment but turns back when Dean speaks.

"What's first thing Monday?" 

"I have this...I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean smirks.

"So we got a deal or not?" Dean says nothing, Sam turns back around and heads back into the building.

"Your brother is certainly...not happy." I look over at Dean who shrugs.

"Eh he'll get over it." Dean smirks and gets back in the car, Dean maybe be smiling but I have a bad feeling about this.

~

Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food. Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes as I was sitting in the back with the window down. I don't know what he's looking for but it must be important.

"Hey!" Dean says with a smile on his face. Sam leans out and looks at him. "You want breakfast?"

"No, thanks."

"Y/n? I got you coffee, along with some biscuits." He hands me the food.

"Thanks...." I say and take the food from him. "So how'd you pay for that stuff?" Sam  asks. "You and Dad still running credit card scams?" 

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career." Dean puts the nozzle that he left running while he went inside back on the pump. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian." Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down.

"And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal."

"That's pretty smart, man I wish I thought of that. Then I wouldn't have had to get a job." I joke as Dean closes the door, Sam looks back at me then at Dean.

"Only a few days and your already a bad influence on her." Sam chuckles. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection." From what I could see there are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled.

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two." Sam holds up a tape for every band he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"And that's probably why he has them." I interrupt while sipping my coffee.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape in the player. "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.

"Wait." Sammy looks back at me as Dean drives off. "Why does she get coffee?"

"Well I asked her what she wanted and she told me."

"You didn't ask me...."

"Suck it up Sammy." Sam made a pouty face, I look down at my coffee then back at him. I reach forward and politely offer him some which Dean notices.

"Aw look at that she's willing to share."

"Shut up." Sam said with a blush on his face as he slowly took my cup.

~

   Sam is talking on his cell phone. "Thank you." He says then closes his phone. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue."

"Well at least we know he's ok." I said, making Sam nod in agreement.

"That's something, I guess." Dean glances over at us, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers. 

"Woah, I wonder what happened." I wondered as Sam leans forward for a closer look, Dean pulls over. We take a long look before Dean turns off the engine. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces. Visible ones include FBI and DEA. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares.

"Let's go."  Dean gets out of the car and me and Sam follow pursuit. On the bridge, the lead Deputy, leans over the railing to yell down to two men in wetsuits who were poking around the river.

"You guys find anything?" He yells.

"No! Nothing!" The other man who was below us replied. The deputy turns back to the car in the middle of the bridge. Another Deputy, is at the driver's side looking around inside the car. The three of us walk into the crime scene, I felt out of place but the brothers acted like they belong there.

"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Dean asks as the first Deputy looks up when he starts talking and straightens up to talk to him.

"And who are you?" Dean flashes his badge. "Federal marshals."

"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you? Especially the girl." Dean laughs. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." Dean goes over to the car. "You did have another one just like this, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam questioned, Jaffe, as it says on his name tag, nods.

"Town like this, everybody knows everybody." Dean circles the car, looking around.

"...And that is why I hate small towns." I state. "Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?"

"Uh N-No. Not so far as we can uh tell."

"So what's the theory? I'm thinking insane hitchhiker." Sam goes over to Dean as I keep the deputy busy.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean insults, Sam stomps on his foot.

"Thank you for your time." I say and the three of us head back to the Impala. Jaffe watches us go but I could the two talking.

"She's a pretty one ain't she?" Jaffe mentions, I ignored him, pervert I thought. Dean smacks Sam on the head, catching my attention.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam grumbled.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing Sam to stop walking.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Sam clears his throat and looks over Dean's shoulder. Dean turns to see a Sheriff and two FBI agents.

"Can I help you boys?" The sheriff asks.

"No, sir, we were just leaving." I smile at them, giving them some reassurance and walk past the three men. Dean and Sam head past the Sheriff, who turns to watch us go.

~

Later we decided to go talk to this young woman, the second deputy's daughter I believe. As we walk up the street the marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads in big bold letters: EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING SUNDAY 8 PM BE SAFE OUT THERE. Below that a young woman is tacking up posters with Troy, the missing boy's face and the caption "Missing Troy Squire". The three of us approach.

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean says

"Well no shit sherlock, if course it's her." I joke, the boys turn towards me.

"Listen sweetheart you may be helping us, but that doesn't give you the right to curse."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say shit, fuck, crap. Sorry!" I giggle, making Sam smirk. Dean ignores me and walks up to the young woman.

"You must be Amy." Dean points out.

"Yeah." She says as she looks towards us. "Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and that's-" Dean was saying, trying to think on what I should be. "-my girlfriend Y/n." I give him a weird look and so does Sam, girlfriend? I thought. He couldn't have gone with sister or something?

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy walks away as the three of us tag along.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"We never really talk to Troy much, teenager's these days. Never wanna hang out with the adults." I chimes in as another young woman, comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asks, while eyeing the three of us.

"Yeah." Amy replies.

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" I asked. "You probably know my nephew to be better then I do."

"Woah trying to get married already babe" Dean jokes as he puts an arm around my shoulder. "I thought the man asks the woman?"

"Well, 'darling' technically I am the one who is the man in this relationship." Sam and the two girls try not to giggle.

~

The five of us are sitting in a booth, Dean and Sam opposite Amy and Rachel while I'm sitting at the end of the table with a normal chair. The chair was turned away from the table as I was facing the four if them.

"So...Amy." I start. "What happened the night Troy disappeared?"

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange?" Sam asks, Amy shakes her head.

"No. Nothing I can remember."

"I like your necklace." I state, Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it.

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents-" Amy laughs. "-with all that devil stuff.

"Do you know where he got it?"

"Um...no actually."

Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Sam says.

"Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries."

Dean jokes, takes his arm off the back of Sam's seat and leans forward. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." Amy and Rachel look at each other. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." Rachel, the other girl says. Dean and Sam speak in chorus. "What do they talk about?"

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean looks at Sam, who watches Rachel attentively, nodding. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

"So let me guess you believe in this so called legend?" I ask.

"It's a possibility, you never know." Sam and Dean look at each other.

Considering that Rachel mentioned this legend, we made a trip to the library. Dean was in the computer with a web browser open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks go; the screen tells him there are "(0) Result". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the same response.

"Your not gonna find anything in the internet. You gotta go old school." I point out.

Sam sighs, who is sitting next to him, watching.

"Let me try." He offered, Dean smacks Sam's hand.

"I got it." Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. "Dude!" Dean hits Sam in the shoulder. "You're such a control freak."

"You two are definitely brothers." I giggle, the boys just shake there heads. I push both of them out of the way "If you want to find a spirit, you gotta go dark. Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

"Yeah." Dean agrees.

"Well, it's not murder." I replace "Murder" with "Suicide" and find an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Both if the boys seemed surprised. I open the article, dated April 25, 1981, I read what the article had to say. "A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night. Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several minutes. I continued to skim the article. " Here this is what the husband said, What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it. Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."

"So she committed suicide." Sam says. "Good job Y/n."

"Quiet there's more. At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager. Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew, said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. She just doted on those children."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Hm. The bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asks.

~

The three of us walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean states.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks.

"If your dad was here then he would've stopped the spirit right?" I wondered.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

"Okay, so now what?"

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while." Sam stops and looks at Dean.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday-" Dean turns around.

"Monday. Right. The interview."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some Lawyer? Marry your girl?"

"Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Sam steps closer, I could tell a fight was about to break out.

"No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

Dean turns around and keeps walking, Sam follows.

"Guys c'mon we got more important things to do." I state.

"Stay out of this Y/n!" Both of them say at the same time.

"Who am I really Dean?" Sam says.

"You're one of us." Sam hurries to get in front of Dean.

"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to-"

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. Instantly I push Dean back, he begins to protest.

"Y/n-"

"No enough out of both of you. Focus, look if San wants out if this life then so be it. You can't change that, I may not know much about what you guys do for a living but I know damn well I wouldn't want to be hunting monsters all the time."

"What do you mean don't know much about what we do?" Sam questioned, clearly aggravated. "You brought her into this!"

"She decided this not me! I gave her the offer to walk away!"

"That wasn't her decision to make! If Y/D/N kept her out if this then you shouldn't have brought her with you!"

"She's eighteen! She can do whatever the hell she wants!"

"No Dean she's not eighteen! She's seventeen! She doesn't turn eighteen till (your birthday)." Dean looks at me, clearly surprised that I lied. However I wasn't paying attention, the spirit of Constance was standing at the edge of the bridge.

"Uh guys." The boys forget there argument and stand infront of me, like I'm something to be protected. Consance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. We run to the railing and look over.

"Where'd she go?" I asked.

"I don't know." Sam said, then behind us, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on, catching our attention.

"What the-who the fuck is driving your car!?" Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them.

"Run!" I yell. The car is moving faster than we are, when it gets too close, the boys dive over the railing but it was to late for me.

The New Hunter Masterlist

[wings-n-tings]

Breaking In

Part 2

You woke up to the bright sun as sweat dripped down your forehead. You should’ve left a window cracked or something, it’s hot as hell. A drop of sweat roll down your face as you sat up to check the time.

It’s almost twelve which means you gotta get going before they catch up to you. They might be following you, so leaving now would be your best option. You jumped back to the drivers seat, started up the car, and drove away as quickly as you could.

I was in the room before them. What’s the big deal with those weirdos? It’s not like I had a gun pointed at their heads or anything. You told yourself that trying to convince yourself that they over reacted, but you couldn’t put it all on them. A random person was in their room. They probably thought you were watching them while they slept. A cold shiver ran up your spine as you processed this. You just became fully aware of why they reacted the way they did, I mean imagine waking up to someone you don’t know and have never seen before in your life sneaking around your room in the dead of night. They behaved the way any sane person would’ve in this situation.

You drove a few more hours crossing state lines into Nebraska and then South Dakota. The pressure in you’re bladder was building up minute after minute. So you pulled into a gas station in a town called Dimock and ran inside before you’re bladder exploded.

After you did you’re business and stepped out the restroom you decided to get a snack before leaving again. So you walked through the isle unable to decide if you want the hot Cheetos or some crackers so you just got both. You walked up to the counter and placed everything down. “Is that all for you?” The cashier asked. She seems nice. “Yes, thank you.” You smiled at her as she scanned your items. “Would you like a bag?” You nodded at her while as you pulled out the credit card you found this morning. As she was bagging your items you noticed the “Now Hiring” sign on the counter. You drove pretty far from where you stole the car maybe you can hang around here for a little bit and try to get a job and save some money.

“Are you guys still hiring?” You asked the cashier. You looked at her name tag to get her name.

“Yes we are. Do you need an application?” She turned to grab the application from the countertop behind her after you nodded eagerly. “Thank you so much Ms. Emily. Is it alright if I fill it out here?”

“Yeah that’s no problem. Here’s a pen.” She pulled a pen out of a little cup and handed it to you while admiring your car outside. You didn’t say anything about it to her though because it’s not really your car, you don’t even know what kind of car it is, and you didn’t care enough to check, so you shrugged it off and wrote your name on the application after thanking her for the pen.

You didn’t know what to put down for your address but you remembered seeing a motel not too far away from here so you just wrote the name of the motel there. You’re gonna live there for a bit, just until you accumulate enough money to get an apartment. Now you didn’t have a phone number you don’t even own a phone because you don’t have money for one. You have an email but no way to check it. You’re going to have to come back everyday to ask about an interview.

“After you finished putting in your personal information you called Emily back and handed her your application. She smiled at you and read your name on the application. “Thank you, (Y/n).” She paused. “Actually do you think you’ll be available for an interview in the morning at 8AM. We desperately need the help.” That came as a surprise to. They usually take your application and forget about it. “Yes, actually I can. Should I ask for you when I come?”

“No need I’ll be here. I own this store and it’s getting difficult to run things smoothly by myself. You’re the first person that’s applied and I’ve had the sign up for a few weeks now.”

“I’ll be here at 8. Thank you so much.” Gathered your things and walked out the store and started heading to the motel you spotted earlier.

———————————

You paid for one week to stay at the motel. After that you’d have to sleep in the car because after seeing the charge on whoever’s credit card that is they’ll most likely cancel and report it.

It’s been a minute since you had a nice warm shower so you took off your clothes and just soaked in the water. Motel soap isn’t that great, but it’s all you have right now. So you lathered it over your skin. You even used the shampoo to wash your hair. You want to look your best for this interview.

After you got out the shower you wrapped yourself in the towel around yourself the turned and filled the bath with water and every soap you could find in the room. The motel didn’t have washers and dryers so you had to do it the old fashioned way. You threw them in the water and let them soak for thirty minutes before stirring them around in the water for a bit and ringing the water out. There were no hangers so you slung them on the shower pole and let the water out of the bath tub.

You walked out still wrapped in the towel and jumped on the bed landing on your back. The sun was starting to going down so you set an alarm for 7am and laid on the bed. You were flipping through the channels on the tv looking for something good to watch and landed on a show called Doctor Sexy. It’s a weird name for a show but it’s very interesting. You fell asleep in the middle of the episode and when you woke up to your alarm going off some weird tv ad was playing.

Turning it off you headed into the bathroom bringing the towel with you. At some point during the night it slipped off and somehow ended up on the floor.

Your clothes were still a little damp but it was unnoticeable so you shook them out and put them on. After you finished getting ready you hopped in the car heading to the corner store for you’re interview. You pray to whoever could hear you about this interview. It’s only a cashier job but something is better than nothing, and you are grateful for this opportunity. You can finally start to get your life back on track.

——————

“Well (Y/n) this concludes the interview. You seem like a very nice girl. If it’s alright with you I’d like to move on with the hiring process”

“Wait really?” She nodded eagerly. “Yeah of course. What do I have to do?” You asked her. This seemed too easy, but you’re not going to question it. Maybe she really is desperate to get some help around here. “Well I just need to get you a name tag and put you on payroll. Just confirm your name and birth date are correct and you can start on Monday.” You did as she said then stood up and shook her hand. “Thank you so much Ms. Emily. I’ll see you on Monday.”

There was something off about all of this, but you disregarded it. You finally got a job. A job that you start working on Monday. Which was two days away. You are, honestly, excited. Who knew a job at a corner store would bring you such joy.

——————

You got back to the motel at eleven, which is really early. You didn’t know what to do with the rest of your day so you decided to waste it by watching tv. You took off your jeans and your sweater, leaving on your tank top and underwear and jumped on the bed. You haven’t had a day like this in a while and you wanted to cherish it.

Unbeknownst to you, the car you’d stolen was for the two men you were trying to forget about. It is very precious to them so they were tracking it down during the two days you were resting on.

——-——

One week later...

Although you’d only worked for five days, you were hired on week of payday which means you get your first pay check today. You were kind of excited about it. You normally work the closing shift, but today Ms. Emily asked you to open because she has to run some errands.

You were supposed to get off at four so you were getting a little worried because Ms. Emily said she’d be back at a quarter til three, but it’s 3:50 now and she still isn’t back. As time went on you realize she isn’t gonna get back today. I hope she’s okay. Weird things have been going on in this town this past week. Some people even went missing so you were worried for her safety.

When seven rolled around you decided to call her. She probably got held up somewhere, but she didn’t answer. You made the executive decision to close early, you had walked to work today to take in the scenery and you didn’t want to leave work too late, the dark is a scary place. You went to her office to grab your check and used the ATM to cash it then pocketed your money.

As you walked out the store you made sure it was clean and turned off all the lights. You took the key out your pocket as you walked out the door then turned and locked it.

You’re on high alert now since it was late out. You were walking back to the motel when you got this eerie feeling that you were being watched causing you to pick up your pace to get to the car faster. You turned in the room key this morning on your way to work since today was you check out day, however you talked with the manager about leaving your car parked there until you get off of work so you had nothing to worry about as long as you move it by the end of the day.

As the motel came into view your paranoia got the best of you and you started running to the car. Someone is watching you and you know it. Your heart started beating a little faster as you got in the car. You accidentally touched the hot wire and jumped as electricity surged through your arm. “Fucking shit Mother fucker!” You screamed. Your entire arm felt numb, you were careful about the wires this whole week, this hysteria is throwing you off. So you took a moment to recoup and recover. Your entire arm feels sore and you’re still a bit disturbed, so you started the car and drove away from the motel.

—————

You parked in front an abandoned warehouse and killed the engine. You were gonna have to sleep here for the night and find a different spot tomorrow. It’s dark out so you decided to call it a night and go to sleep. You have to open the store again in the morning.

You were very curious about what may be inside the warehouse though. You didn’t want to go in, yet still you got out of the car and started walking to the door.

What am I doing? This is so stupid. Why am I walking to this building? What if there’s dead bodies in there? Don’t go you dumb bitch!

Against your better judgement you walked in anyway. To you’re surprise, though, it was completely empty. You walked towards the middle of the room and looked around curiously. Maybe you can sleep in here instead of the car. It might be more comfortable, and no one would walk inside the building. Well, no one except for you.

You walked next to a pallet and laid down on the ground. Positioning yourself so that if someone were to walk through the door they wouldn’t see you. You closed your eyes and slipped into unconsciousness and before you knew you jerked awake and had to take a moment to catch your breath.

You weren’t sure why you woke up so suddenly so you stayed awake and made your way to door. You stopped in your tracks when you were in front of the door. You heard voices so you cracked the door open to peek out and see who was there. It was still dark out but you could still see them.

You saw two very large men. One a bit shorter than the other. They looked familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where exactly you saw them before. You couldn’t take your eyes off the taller one. It was something about his hair. They were examining your car and when the taller one walked around to the passenger side and you finally saw his face. Your breath caught in your throat as your face paled. The strange men from the motel. You didn’t think you’d see them ever again in your life. Why are they here?

You slowly pulled your head back in from the crack in the door and slowly started to back away from it. Suddenly a hand was covering your mouth and something sharp was poking at your side.

“Don’t scream or I will kill you.”

You couldn’t see her face, but you knew exactly who she was.

“Ms. Emily what are you doing?” You asked lowly the fear in your voice was evident.

“Just be quiet. Do everything I say and maybe I’ll let you live” She growled in your ear.

“Please don’t hurt me.” You said louder this time. Hoping the men outside heard you.

“Shut up!” She yelled this time.

She dug the knife into your side. She didn’t stab you bad enough for medical attention, still it was deep enough to leave a mark. You cried out in pain but she grabbed your mouth harder so that your groans were muffled by her hand.

Suddenly the door was kicked open and in came the two men with guns in their hands. They both looked at you for a moment before looking at your boss. “Let her go.” The taller one said. If you remember correctly his name is Sammy.

“I don’t think so. You know when I saw her in your car I though she knew who you two were. I was hoping to use her to get to you Winchesters. But turns out she just stole your car.”

“Wow, I feel used and abused.” She dug the knife a little deeper and you cried out in pain as you were starting to see black dots in your vision. Your legs gave out under you but she held you up like you weighed as heavy as a piece of paper.

“A gun won’t kill me. If you let me walk out that door you can have the girl.” What do these guys want with your boss? And why is your boss trying to kill you? “Witch killing bullets.” The shorter one stated.

Sammy was still aiming his gun at your boss. You were scared that he was going to shoot the both of you, and if he didn’t shoot your boss she was going to stab you to death. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to sit here and wait for something bad to happen. Thinking quickly you bent your arm to prepare yourself. You forcefully yanked your arm back hitting her as hard as you could in her gut and as suspected her grip loosened on you and you ran away from her as best you could before falling to the ground.

That’s when you heard the shots ringing throughout the building, and you watched your boss fall to the ground. Dead.

You were frozen in fear. You couldn’t stop staring at the dead person in front of you. Everything went by so quickly. Sammy came to aid you while the other guy, Dean, went to your boss, or ex boss, or whatever.

“Are you okay?” He asked but you didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. It was like someone took your voice away from you. You started to breath harder and harder which was making the dots in your vision worse you’re breathing was all you could hear until Sammy yelled at you “Hey! Look at me. Hey!”

You averted your gaze away from where Ms. Emily was and looked Sammy in the eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked you once more. “I’m gonna pass out now.” Your voice was weak and the dots in your vision connected and you were engulfed in darkness.

Part 3