#damn the deputy got hands

[luveline]

Hello Jade! I have a request for hotch if that’s okay, I was thinking something like he’s dating sunshine!reader who goes to a police precinct with the team and the sheriff/deputy insults Hotch in front of her (maybe she’s not part of the BAU so he doesn’t realise she knows Hotch?) and she snaps and punches him/pushes him to the ground and afterwards she’s really quiet and refusing to tell anyone what happened cause she doesn’t want Hotch to hear that people were bad mouthing him. Everyone is confused cause she’s usually so bubbly and it’s disconcerting to see her so stern but she has to protect her man damnit 😤

(Ps I’m the anon who got confused about rules n you’re right I was looking under guidelines not requests 🤦🏼‍♀️ sorry!)

hi babe, thank you for your request! (and no worries at all, no sorry necessary!!)

—hotch is dumbfounded when you slap a deputy sheriff, but you have your heartfelt reasons. fem, 2k

You're not specifically BAU, but when Hotch calls, you answer. You don't look BAU either in your skirt with your blue laptop carry case; twice you're asked what you're doing in the precinct and if you need assistance, but eventually you get to the centre of the action upstairs, meandering through the detective's desks toward a conference room with a sticky-taped sign that says to knock before entering. 

"Hey, Spencer," you say, shouldering open the door. "They leave you behind?" 

Spencer turns away from his white board. "I'm more useful here right now. Did you bring the ethernet cable for Garcia?"

You put your laptop case on the table and pull out her desired cable. "Where is she?" It's hard-pressed for Penelope to be found anywhere away from her computer during case times. You must get twenty or more rejection emails a month from your fellow tech analysist. Sorry, working a case :'( 

"Bathroom. There's a kitchen if you need coffee. You have a badge?" 

You flash your visitor's badge at him. "Get you one?" 

"Four sugars. Thanks, L/N." 

You flash him a smile. The kitchen is back the way you came and to the right. It's nowhere near big enough for the workforce, three tables and one microwave next to a sink full of mugs. You smile at anyone who looks at you and beeline for a coffee pot. No one questions you. They must be used to outsiders invading their space this week. 

"Mean fucking guy." 

You tilt your head to the side, hand paused in their cup cabinet above the sink. You shouldn't be nosy, but they're not being very quiet, either.

"He has to be mean, I guess. That's a tight ship to run," says a second voice.

"I'd understand it if I thought they were getting somewhere. It's been four days, and between the string bean and his pushpin map and that tech girl who won't shut up? They're doomed. The boss is either too stubborn or too damn stupid to realise." 

You close the cabinet and turn around. 

"I fucking hate this shit. Ties in their suit jackets coming into our investigation and chasing the wrong leads. We could've had Miller in cuffs two days ago if Hotchner hadn't shut us down, two days ago! And now another kid is dead, and there's not a drop of remorse on him. He doesn't care about doing his job, he–" 

"He what?" you ask. Your heart is beating hard before you've so much as parted your lips, your hands trembling. You screw them into tight balls. 

"Excuse me?" 

Your opposition is a rough hewn man in a deputies badge, a cup of coffee held between two paws. He narrows thick salt and pepper brows at your question, his mouth screwed into a telling snarl. 

"You think Agent Hotchner doesn't care about his job? So why is he here? Why did he agree to take the case?" 

"Who the fuck are you?" 

You shake your head in annoyance and take the FBI badge from your little cross body bag. You toss it on the table, your beaming face looking up at him a juxtaposition to the glare you wear now. 

He stands up from his table. The lunch room hushes but the riot of precinct cacophony stays strong just outside of the door, a thrum that battles your roaring heart. You're so angry you can barely speak, and it'll only get worse. 

"I'm sorry you have to hear it from me, darling, I am, but your boss out there? Agent Hotchner?" The deputy scoffs. "He's a fool running blind. He turned away from the real issue here. He's a prideful, narcissistic idiot who's let the power of his paycheck get to his head, and as far as I'm concerned? So long as he stops us from arresting Jaden Miller? He's a murderer, too. The blood is on his hands." 

You know you're going to slap him from the moment he says 'murderer', but the knee to his crotch straight after is a surprise even to yourself. All you're thinking for one horrible white-hot moment is How can I hurt him? It's shameful, and you slam your knee up a second time anyhow. 

—

"You can tell me what happened now or later, but it's going to be much easier on you if you tell me now." 

Hotch hates this part. What he wouldn't give to have someone else here to reprimand you. He understands why Gideon left and he wouldn't want him back unwillingly, but Hotch thinks your nightly phone call may go over smoother tonight if it were Gideon standing in his place. Half the time Hotch finds he's uninterested in scolding you. It's why you stay firmly in your department and away from his bias in the BAU. He can't be optimal at his job while you're around. 

It's not limited to telling you off, of course. When you're near, he wants to act like it. He wants to take your hand, hold your arm, rub a palm between your shoulders. He wants to pull you into his lap, or pinch the soft lobe of your ear between his fingers to watch you shiver, blow warm air at the back of your neck to hear your laugh. This cold silence is his worst nightmare, but he can't cross the line. 

Well, he can't cross the line too much. 

In the privacy of a cordoned, borrowed office, Hotch can sit beside you. The blinds are closed, and his intimidation act wasn't getting him anywhere anyways. More flies with honey than vinegar. 

"I can't show favouritism here, do you understand? Especially when you're being physically violent against the deputy sheriff." Hotch watches the soft pillow of your bottom lip tremble in a private terror. "I know you wouldn't do this for no reason. I know. Give me a reason to take your side and I will." 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"Did he say something inappropriate?" 

You don't answer.

"Did he?" Hotch can feel the anger he's been pushing down start to rise. When a woman like you, happy-go-lucky, pretty, and always smiling, turns to violence, it's not hard to picture why. He knows full well the horrible things a man can say to a woman. "Please, trust me to take care of this." 

"Hotch, I really don't want to talk about this. You can reprimand me, send me home." 

"No. Tell me what he said." 

You glare at him. Hotch finds with a heart-skipping hurt that it's the first time he's been on the receiving end of your disdain. "No. I don't want to." 

"And I don't want to send you home." He knows how he looks, stony-eyed and furrowed brow. He has to try hard to relax into a more neutral expression. "I won't. Not when I know you'd never hurt someone." 

"Well, I did." 

"We all do things we don't mean to in anger." 

In the quiet, he can hear Emily asking loud questions about what happened, and her almost comedic gasp as someone informs her of the situation. Morgan couldn't find the words to tell Hotch over the phone what happened, just told him to hurry back, and it was doubly difficult to get the story out of Spencer, who'd been the one responsible for standing in your way. 

"He called her a bitch," Spencer told him. "I didn't want to hold her back after that." 

The sheriff deputy has a good hundred pounds on you, so no matter what he called you, Hotch is glad you were pulled away. 

Hearing that you'd been called a bitch set his nerves aflame. When Spencer explained that this was said by a man on his knees after a swift jab to the crotch, Hotch was more confused. 

He follows a whim. He's biassed for sure, but he knows you're the most beautiful woman in any room that you walk into. It doesn't shock him that a high-ranking authority figure would take advantage of his position to make a pass at you. 

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," he says softly. "Whatever he said to you, I– I'm not supposed to support violence, but I understand if it got too much. Sexual harassment is unjustifiable, and I'll stand with you and your actions completely." 

"He didn't harass me, Aaron," you say, looking down at your knees. You're wearing dark stockings, pinching at the fabric distractedly. 

"Did he touch you?" 

"No, Aaron–" You sigh frustratedly. "I don't want to tell you what he said because it's not true." 

"He insulted you?" 

"He insulted you." You glance at him and then away. "I couldn't stand it." 

If there weren't cameras in the room he'd bundle you into his arms and kiss the slope of your cheek, because how is he supposed to handle this? You're hitting people when they talk bad about him now? 

Hotch doesn't need to ask to know it was bad. You're a well-meaning, well-adjusted person. You'd hardly hit somebody for calling Hotch a jerk. Something severe would've been said to have pushed you over the edge, but, to his detriment, Hotch has heard a thousand awful things about himself from a thousand different mouths, and he doesn't worry about what it was. 

"Alright. Listen to me carefully." Your shoulders stiffen. "I don't want you hurting people over me. I don't need you to defend me. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, and I certainly don't want you assaulting people on my behalf." 

Your lip again begins to tremble. "I'm sorry." 

"No. Don't be sorry." He covers your knee in his hand gently, ducking his head to meet your glassy eyes. He's gone about this the wrong way, upsetting you unnecessarily. He rushes to correct it. "I love that you want to defend me, I love that you did, and it isn't lost on me how much it means to have you at my side, but… You could have been seriously injured. Honey, picking on someone your own size is a double-sided coin. What if the deputy hit you back?" 

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt." 

He leans down more, imploring, desperate to be heard. "I'm afraid of you getting hurt. Me. I'm worried someone's going to hurt you when I'm not around." 

"He was saying all this stuff about you and it wasn't true–" 

"It's okay," he says, shaking his head slowly from one side to another. "It doesn't matter. I know what people like him think of me, and he's not in an easy position." He drops his voice to a murmur for your ears alone. "I'm not saying you should agree with him, I can't tell you that I like him much." 

You laugh weakly, the sound quickly melding to a sniffle. "I'm sorry, Aaron. I shouldn't have hit him. I don't know what came over me." 

"We get angry for the people we care about." 

He can't kiss you, really, not at work, but he can show you some heavy affection. It's a boundary crossed. Luckily, Hotch knows you won't report him. 

"Thank you for defending me. You can stay on the case if you promise not to do it again," he says, squeezing your smaller hand in his, drawing a lopsided heart with his thumb into the back of it. 

"I'll promise not to do it again if he promises to keep his stupid mouth closed," you mutter. 

"Is it wrong of me to like this version of you?" he says. 

You look him straight in the eye, your usual lightness restored, if dimmed just a touch. "I like all your versions, Agent Hotchner." 

"Good. Remind the version that's your boyfriend to treat you accordingly tonight. Okay?" 

You nod emphatically, both relieved and chastened. "Okay. Thanks, handsome." 

You look tired. Tonight, he'll kiss you like he means it, maybe a touch too rough but apparently you're a hard ass now who can handle it, and he'll hold you close even if he can't give you the attention you deserve until the case is done. He'll make sure you know how much he appreciates your protection, rub your back for hours just the way you like it while sleep fails. 

"You're welcome," he says. He has more to say but there's no more time to waste. There's still work to be done. 

It'll come easier with you at his side, he's sure. 

[herstarburststories]

gator tillman hates your vibrator.

it's almost a personal offense to him. how come his girl has to rely on fucking devices to jerk off when she has him? he's the damn deputy, he's her man. to gator, it's a man's job to satisfy his woman, make her cum all over his cock, or get her needy cunt dripping on his fingers, or make out with her pussy like it's her goddamn mouth. tillman doesn't like thinking about you, desesperate for cock like the perfect cockslut he trained you to be, searching pleasure on a stupid vibrator.

truth to be told, gator despises the idea of you getting pleasure anywhere but him. perhaps that's on you for whispering that you were a virgin the first time he touched you. the fire set on his eyes, the stupid, retrograde thought that it made you utterly his. no one would ever know your taste, the sounds you made, how pretty you begged, how your pussy was tight and desperate to be filled up, how filled up you got when he said he'd make a cream pie out of that cunt — only gator tillman would know, only he could know how it felt to be your man.

"you aren't always here, gator," you'd try to reason with him, rolling your eyes. "most guys would use it to help them, y'know?"

the glare he gave you would haunt your sleep at night, and move your fingers too.

"most guys are weak pussies, dollface," gator groans, his eyes dark, jaw clenched. tillmans are many things, mostly had than good, but sharing isn't one of them. "they wouldn't know how to suck ya fuckin' pussy how ya like it. wouldn't know how to fuck ya, make you come on their cock. wouldn't know how to get you whimpering while ridin' their faces. wouldn't know how to get you desperate for dick like I do." he'd click his tongue on the roof of his mouth, looking you up and down. his hand would grab your hips possessively — and you wouldn't care if he's being toxic, if he's being irrational. you'd just want him to fuck it out of you.

"gator.." a whine, just like the deputy likes it. to sense the authority he has on you, how your usual outstanding and 'take no shit' behavior shifts into a submissive whore when he takes the hold.

"most guys wouldn't get to make you a cockslut like I did, darlin." gator shoots you a lopsided smirk, his eyes dripping hunger. there's a squeeze to your waist right before he slams you against the nearest wall, his bulge pressing on your body and making you whimper. "good girl, you're gonna call me when you wanna come. forget that fuckin' hell toy. i'm your man, and you're mine. only I get to make you come."

and just like that, you'd be gone. argument long forgotten as he'd spend the rest of the hour pounding you, abusing your clit, making you beg for him to let you come. your mind was out of the window, and so were your complaints gone when gator groaned that he'd fill you up, make good use of that pretty cunt. everything that wasn't gator tillman and his cock disappeared.

surprisingly, so did your vibrator.

insp by this. request gator tillman on the ask. ♡

[cloakedsparrow]

Commissioner Jim Gordon figured out Bruce Wayne was Batman early on in their partnership but he needed all the help he could get cleaning up Gotham, so he figured he’d let it go as long as he maintained plausible deniability and as long as Batman didn’t do anything too reckless or damning (like killing someone or getting a civilian killed).

He could tell that Batman genuinely wanted to help and he honestly grew to respect him, so he decided if it ever looked like he needed to pull the plug on Batman, he could just quietly inform him that he knew his identity but he wouldn’t have to pursue it if he just stopped.

He almost did just that when Robin entered the picture. Because that was not a grown man with training and intellect in a combat-ready suit. That was a child in a leotard and pixie boots. Of course, Robin was obviously Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s new ward. And, yeah, the kid was a remarkably gifted acrobat, but still. What the fuck was Batman thinking?

A few captured crooks and a couple overheard conversations later and Gordon realized that this was Bruce attempting to reign in Dick. He decided he’d let it go for a while and see if the situation didn’t just take care of itself.

It did, but not in the way Gordon had assumed, where Bruce eventually got Dick to stop. Instead, the kid turned out to be a brilliant vigilante. So as much as the idea of a kid fighting criminals in a leotard upset him, Gordon decided to let it go as long as the boy seemed more or less safe (and also didn’t cross certain lines).

Then Batgirl appears and Gordon is even more concerned because Batman also doesn’t seem to know who this girl is. That’s concerning. She’s wearing his symbol. One fuck up from her could ruin everything Batman (and Gordon) have built. All the goodwill with the non-corrupt detectives and citizens of Gotham could be destroyed overnight. There’s no way to prove she has nothing to do with Batman shy of unmasking one or the other or both.

So Gordon decides to look into Batgirl, because that’s the lesser of two evils at this point, and it turns out she’s his daughter. Because of course Barbara would do something like this. Fuck his life.

Then Nightwing enters the picture. Before Gordon can worry about this new vigilante too much, Nightwing shows him the cute little deputy badge he’d given Robin and repeats some of his own words back to him, proving Nightwing is Dick Grayson. Which, good for him. At least he came up with a better suit. Gordon hadn’t wanted to say anything, but he’d been getting a little too old for the pixie boots.

Then there’s a new Robin, which is obviously Bruce Wayne’s newly adopted son, Jason Todd. Barbara is still acting as Batgirl, so Gordon figures he doesn’t have any room to be judgmental of Batman’s parenting choices at this point. At least Batman keeps his kid with him while he’s fighting crime. It’s more than Gordon can claim.

Then, the worst comes to pass. Jason Todd dies.

Batman tried to kill the Joker, so there’s no point in guessing how that happened. Gordon feels terrible. He feels even worse when Batman is clearly losing it and, as much as he understands (Barbara could have been killed instead of crippled, and just for answering her father’s door), he can’t let it continue. He’s going to have to show his hand and threaten Bruce Wayne.

As if by some miracle, Batman starts getting better before he has to act. Gordon assumed he’d either sought help or just worked through the worst phase of his grief…until another Robin shows up.

The kid is wearing a different suit that covers (protects) more of him. He’s constantly perched on something so Gordon can’t get a definite estimation of his height. The hair could always be dyed or a wig. Overall, there’s not much to go on identity-wise. It’s certainly not Jason Todd after faking his death or being revived somehow (it’s Gotham, stranger things have happened). This is definitely a different kid. He’s smaller, younger, paler, and he doesn’t move or sound like either of the previous Boy Wonders.

Bruce Wayne does not have another son. He does not have another ward. No nephew or godson or the like. So who the fuck is this kid?!

The new kid is really good. Batman is doing really good with him. Gordon would be very happy with this progress except that he still has no idea where the kid came from. He’s taken to going over missing person reports, but it’s Gotham (there’s a lot) and he doesn’t even have a decent description of the new Robin to work with.

He tried saying something to Robin once, after Batman ditched them on the roof of GCPD. The kid had stopped him and told him that he’d given the adults their chance to fix it but they didn’t, so he’s taking care of it now. Then the unknown child jumped off the roof and fired off a grapple to follow Batman. Gordon has no idea what to make of that but he feels like he should be a little ashamed, at least.

After what feels like a year of mental torment, Janet Drake is murdered and Jack Drake is left in a coma that he may or may not recover from. Then Gordon learns that Bruce Wayne has quietly assumed custody of their son, Tim Drake.

There is no paper trail of any kind between the Drakes and Bruce Wayne. If the Drake boy is Robin, then Gordon has no idea how that came to be. If he isn’t Robin, then he still has no idea who the current Boy Wonder is.

The mystery of this particular Robin will continue to haunt him for years.

Bruce loses custody of the Drake boy, but there doesn’t appear to be any change in Batman and Robin.

Suddenly, Robin is gone with no explanation and there’s a girl in the role for a couple weeks but then she’s fired and starts a gang war that claims thousands of lives including, apparently, her own. Then maybe-Tim-Drake-maybe-not Robin is back.

Bruce takes permanent custody of the Drake boy, and there still doesn’t appear to be any change in Batman and Robin.

Then there’s a new suit but it appears to be the same Robin, just sadder. Then Bruce Wayne’s biological son shows up and, lo and behold, there’s a new Robin. With a chip on his shoulder the size of Wayne Manor and a fucking sword. Gordon actually misses the Robin that had been confusing the hell out of him for the past several years.

Then there’s a Red Robin. Then he's gone and there’s two very different Robins operating at the same time. Gordon’s pretty sure the one that isn’t Damian Wayne is the one that’s been a constant source of headaches and nicotine cravings for the past four years, but he still can’t be sure who the little shit is.

[rafetopia]

𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: canon!rafe cameron x fem!dark!reader (she a little crazy too)

genre: action (?), smut, teeny bit of fluff & angst -> 18+!!

words: ~5.2k

warnings: shootings, mentions of guns (obviously), fire, mentions of death, dom!rafe, not so subby but bratty reader, prison break, (slight) daddy kink, (sexual) choking, hair pulling, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex

summary: after her efforts of getting her fiancé out of jail the legal way, (Y/N) has to take on different measures to get him back

note: this is kind of a second part to “till death do us part” but it can be read as a stand alone too.

also please go easy on me, I obviously have yet to break anyone out of jail, and I’ve not been chased by the police that often yet so if there some parts that seem unrealistic to you- please ignore them

“Get on your damn knees, Cameron!” Shoupe was screaming at the young man, as he ran out of the water.

“Baby? Baby where are you?” Rafe screamed as panic overcame his voice. 

He frantically looked around him, but there was no sign of his girl. The second he reached land, he turned around, trying to find at least a sign that she was alive but there was nothing. It wasn’t until he heard Deputy Plumb scream “I got her!”, that he knew she was alive. She dragged her by the shoulder, her grip so tight, that the girl was sure it would leave marks. 

“Let go of me!” She yelled, trying to get herself free, as the older woman dragged her to shore. 

“You wish…” Plumb gritted through her teeth, knowing exactly that she would try and run away the second she would let go of her.

But (Y/N) would never run away without the love of her life and by the way the male Officers were throwing themselves on him, she knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. 

“Let go of him!” She screamed, but her wishes stayed unheard. “I swear to god if you hurt him, I’m gonna kill you, all of you!” She continued, not caring about the consequences her threads might bring with them. 

Rafe tried to free himself from the Officer's grip, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight off four male Officers, especially not with the anger they had in them. “Would you calm down?” Shoupe ordered as he turned around to look at you.. “Only gonna make things a lot harder for the both of you.” 

The moment (Y/N)’s feet had dry land under them, she tried to fight herself free again, but Plumb's grip was tight, a little bit too tight for Rafe’s liking. “If you hurt her, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” The face of the young man turned red, as he so desperately tried to fight himself free so he could protect her. He saw the tears forming in his love’s eyes and to say it drove him insane was an understatement. 

He wanted to fight himself free, wrap his arms around her, and carry her away but before he could even attempt to do anything, he had Deputy Thomas’ fist in the face, sending him to the ground with such force that he blacked out for a second. The moment he regained consciousness, he heard her scream in pain. 

“You bastard!” She cried, before fighting herself free of the woman’s grip and launching towards the Officer. “He wasn’t even doing anything you disgusting piece of shit!” She screamed, as they contained her and brought her to the ground next to her boyfriend. 

He was lying on his stomach as they started to cuff him, and she softly caressed his eye, which was already swollen. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you out of this.” She sobbed, as they took her hands and put them behind her back, before cuffing them together. 

“You’re gonna pay for this.” She mumbled through gritted teeth, as they were dragging him to the police car. 

“Would you stop with the threads now, Miss?” Plumb hissed at the girl before she turned her attention towards her boss. “Let’s take her with us? So she can calm down.” 

“I am calm you fucking bitch!” 

“Okay.” The officer chuckled, before dragging her towards the other car. She was about to go inside when Rafe turned himself around and looked at her. 

“I love you, baby.”

“Till death do us part?” She smiled.

“Till death do us part.” He answered, before the Sheriff shoved him into the car.

“If that fat pig hurts him again, one more time…” She mumbled before Plumb pushed her into the other car.

………….

That was six weeks ago. Since then, she had tried everything in order to get him at least out on bail but the judge was hard. She consulted the best lawyers and brought up the way they treated the two of them during their arrest but hence the drugs in their system and the statements of the arresting officers, no one was able to do anything. She tried to do it the legal way, she truly did but she never had a chance. Especially not now when they started investigating her and her entire family. 

She knew she was screwed and she would have to take action soon if she didn’t want to end up in a prison cell herself. After her last visit, she was able to visit him once again, thanks to her amazing ability to convince people to do whatever she wanted and her outstanding talent for blackmailing but after her last visit, they completely blocked her out. Being investigated for fraud and money laundering, really took away all her family's credibility, leaving her with nothing but her last resort. She had to break him out of jail. 

So there she was with a smile on her face, watching the flames, as they grew bigger and bigger, until almost swallowing the whole building. Screams were echoing from the front of the building but she didn’t care. It was almost as if she didn’t hear them. Officers trying to escape without getting thrown back into the flames by Kildare’s most sinister criminals, and prisoners, trying to use this opportunity to get their freedom back.

(Y/N) knew it was a risky plan, she knew there was a chance that he wouldn’t make it out of there in time before either the cops or the flames got the best of him but it was her last chance. Tomorrow, they were planning on transferring him to the mainland for his trial, the big one. The one that determined whether he was guilty of his crimes, or if he was innocent and she damn well knew, the chance for the second one was less than zero. 

She was hiding behind the building, hoping he would know where to find her. She had the car ready, in case they needed to make a run for it, just like they had always joked about. 

The smoke had gotten worse as the flames made their way around the building and anxiety slowly burned its way through her body. She tried to calm herself down, as she unconsciously played with the pink “Bratz Doll” lighter between her fingers. Did she do the right thing? Would he make it? What if he didn’t? Then she would’ve killed the love of her life.

She took a peak around the corner where she saw Sheriff Shoupe arguing around with a group of firefighters. She hadn’t heard them come. His clothes were gray from the smoke and he was coughing a lot, but other than that he seemed fine. She appreciated the fact that she did not just kill Kildare’s new Sheriff, only a few months after her fiancé had killed the first one. Shortly after, more police cars arrived at the scene, followed by the loud noise of what she assumed to be a helicopter, landing on the other side of the building. She knew if he hadn’t made it out by now, then her whole plan would most likely have been for nothing. 

She quickly made her way back to her car, where another wave of anxiety overcame her. She tried to think positively but the tears in her eyes were starting to get through. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be the one that killed him. She was smart and resourceful, her plans never failed. But this wasn’t a rational plan. She was desperate. 

(Y/N) watched, as the flames started to swallow the building whole, besides the fireman’s efforts to stop it. She tried so hard to hold on to the last piece of hope but she had given up. She was about to get into her car when she was stopped by a familiar voice.

“You weren’t about to leave without me, now were you sweetheart?” He coughed, causing her to freeze in her tracks. 

She turned around and was met with her fiancé, covered in soot from head to toe. His once orange prison suit was now gray, the orange barely visible anymore. He was coughing a lot but between his coughs, he was smiling. She squealed in happiness, before jumping into his arms. 

“I thought you didn’t make it.” She whispered, almost crying into his neck.

“Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily baby.” He chuckled. 

Hand in hand, they ran to the car as fast as they could. Just when (Y/N) was about to turn the ignition, she was stopped by the familiar *click* of a gun.

“Don’t you dare, turn on that car, (Y/L/N)!” The woman coughed out, her words barely hearable to the other two.

“Told you Plumb,” She smirked, as she pulled down the window. “Told you, you’re gonna pay for this.” And with that, she turned on the car and drove away, trying not to get killed by the bullets that came flying after them.

As they got chased through the streets of Kildare by what felt like the entire police department, Rafe tried to fire back with the gun she had brought. He had climbed into the backseat so he had a better angle, without his feet blocking her stick. He had tried to convince her to switch seats, but as stubborn as she was, she insisted on driving.

“I swear to god Rafe, if you get shot I’m gonna finish you off myself.” She yelled as he almost got hit by a bullet. “Just shoot something, it’s not that hard to hit someone, you must know…”

He gave her a bitter laugh. “It’s certainly not that hard to put your foot on that damn gas pedal either! Just let me take over!”  

“No, I can do this! I’ve always wanted to do this!” She giggled, after dodging an old man who had started to cross the street but wasn’t fast enough in turning around. “Oops!” She laughed. “We almost killed our first-grade math teacher.” 

“No, you almost killed our first-grade math teacher. I liked that guy!” He yelled back into the car, after trying and failing to hit the cars behind them. “Can’t hit anything with you driving like a maniac!”

“How else would you want me to drive, mister?”

“Just let me fucking do it?”

“Fine.” She mumbled, before jumping out of her seat. Before Rafe even realized what was going on, she had climbed into the passenger seat. “Go and take over the fucking car then!” She yelled, as she grabbed another, but slightly bigger gun from beneath the seat and leaned out of the window, almost shooting Rafe himself as he was still leaning out of the window as well.

“Oh my god.” He mumbled, as he jumped into the driver's seat, “Are you fucking crazy?” He waited for a second as if he really thought she was going to reply, before continuing, “Of course you are, you just broke me out of jail with a pink “Bratz doll” lighter…” He chuckled, as he knew goddamn well you wouldn’t use anything else to light something up, let it be a candle when you’re taking a bath or some wood when you’re lighting up a fucking detention center.

Rafe still had the other gun, so naturally, he tried to take over not only driving but also shooting. With his foot on the gas pedal, he leaned out of the window and started shooting. He thought he held the car steady as he hit multiple tires of the police cars behind them but if it wasn't for (Y/N) and her taking over the steering wheel, he would’ve driven them both straight into a café. 

“Goddamn it!” She yelled, “But you’re calling me crazy?” 

The officers quickly lost control over their cars as the bullet holes drained the air out of their tires and before they could do anything about it, they were clashing into each other. One of the cars crashed into a restaurant, and the screams of the people were even louder than the terrible sound of the sirens that had chased them. 

 “See, just let Daddy handle it. There’s a reason you’re my designated passenger princess.” He grinned satisfied.

“See, let daddy handle it…” She mocked, “If it wasn’t for me you would not only still be in jail, but we would also both be lying dead on Papa Joe’s Ice Cream counter you bloody idiot!” She yelled, almost spitting into his face out of anger. She was expecting some sort of accountability from him but all she got was a laugh. “No I’m fucking for real Rafe Cameron, disrespect me like that again and I'll send your ungrateful ass to hell myself.” 

“Gosh how much I missed your little attitude.” He grinned, before placing his hand on her thigh. “Can’t wait to fuck it out of you.” 

“Keep up your attitude and the only thing you're gonna fuck for a very long time is your own damn hand.” 

“We’ll see ‘bout that.” He smirked, before turning his attention back on the road, earning nothing but an evil side eye from the girl next to him. She might be in a mood now, but he knew goddamn well that she'd come begging for his dick soon enough.

“Got a boat parked at Layla’s beach rental.” She stated simply, without looking at him. “Maybe you can press on that gas pedal a little more since you’re so good at it, and get us there before more cops show up and have taken over the marsh…” 

Without saying anything, he headed towards her best friend’s rental property, where the boat was waiting for them. It wasn’t as big as the Druthers, but it was more than enough to get them to the Mainland. Neither of them cared about where particularly, they just wanted to get as far away from the outer banks as possible. 

As they were getting the boat ready, they could hear the sirens already approaching. While Rafe loosened the Anker, (Y/N) started the motor. They were about to drive away when The officers, such as Sheriff Shoupe and Deputy Plumb jumped out of their cars. 

“We got company.” (Y/N) stated as Rafe took over the wheel. “I thought we got them good back there but apparently not good enough.”

He hit the gas pedal and slowly drove the boat away from shore, trying to ignore the amount of guns that were currently pointed at them.

“Put your hands up and step away from the wheel!” Shoupe yelled through a megaphone. “I repeat, Rafe Cameron, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) put your hands up and step away from the steering wheel. Do not make me repeat myself.” 

Rafe’s gaze went from the officers, who had all pointed their guns at the two of them, to her. She was standing steady, her hands not up in the air like she was told. He knew she would never oblige to them, (Y/N) was that kind of girl that would be rather dead than locked up, he knew that. Her eyes met his and in that moment it felt like the world stopped. He saw the fire in her eyes and it was burning brighter than ever, almost as if she was enjoying this. There was not an ounce of fear in them, there never was, except for the time she thought he died in the flames but he didn’t know that. He knew exactly what she was about to do which left him with only one option. She gave him a soft smile, before leaning in for a kiss. She didn’t plan on occupying his lips for that long, since she knew every second wasted could cost them their life but she didn’t care. This could be the last time she tasted his lips so she had to take her time. In a swift second, she pulled the gun out of her jeans pocket and started firing. 

The next few moments didn’t feel real for either of them, but the bullet holes on the boat proved that they were. Rafe had taken over the wheel as he sped away from the scene, while his girlfriend gave him cover. In this moment, Rafe experienced what true fear felt like. With every shot fired, there was a chance it could hit her, and alone the thought of it made him dizzy. (Y/N) on the other hand, had never felt more alive. She reveled in the gunfire that they, especially her, had started but her excitement soon died out when not only her bullets went out, but they also started getting shot at from their left, as police boats started to get closer to them. 

“Baby, I’m out!” She yelled out, trying to keep calm. 

“Here, take over.” He commanded as he pulled out his own gun. “And baby?” 

“Yes?” 

“Hit that damn gas pedal this time!” 

She smiled, before turning around and really hitting that pedal. It was the boat her dad had gifted her after she got accepted into college and it was a damn fast one. Other than a car, (Y/N) knew exactly how to drive a boat and soon their pursuers had to learn this the hard way. She was fast and soon, the officers had to let them go but it wasn’t only because (Y/N) was too fast for them and Rafe knew that. They had hit two of the officers. 

“Baby… baby they stopped.” (Y/N) squealed as she let go of the wheel and jumped into her boyfriend’s arms. 

“Thanks to you, princess.” He laughed softly. “You were amazing. You have no idea how much I love your crazy ass.”

“Oh, I know.” She chuckled, before leaning in for a kiss. “Now are you finally gonna fuck that attitude out of me, or what?” She didn’t have to ask twice, as he had pushed her into the cabin before she could even take another breath. “Shouldn’t we put the boat on autopilot first?” She giggled against his lips.

“Right.” He chuckled, before pushing her onto the couch. “Be right back!” He hurried outside and put the boat on autopilot while making sure one last time that they weren’t followed anymore. 

When he came back, she was lying on the couch, her upper body resting on her elbows and her legs spread, revealing the hot pink thong she was wearing underneath her baby blue jeans skirt. He mustered her body, his eyes traveling from her beautiful face, down to her tits that were barely covered underneath that black excuse of a tank top. The further his eyes traveled down her body the more saliva built up in his mouth, as he couldn’t wait to bury his head between her folds. 

With the biggest smile on his lips, he hopped on top of her, where he was welcomed by her tongue exploring his mouth. She gently placed her hand on the back of his head, so she could push him closer to her. They both had waited for this moment for months, so they didn’t want to waste any time. He didn’t want to waste any time, as he had yet to thank her for getting him out of there in the first place. 

As his tongue fought for dominance, he gently pulled them both up, so they were sitting. He helped her remove her top before she quickly hopped out of her skirt. He held in for a second, taking in the image in front of him. She was wearing a hot pink lace bra, covered in heart-shaped embroidery, matching the thong she was wearing. He didn’t recognize this set of lingerie, she must have gotten it while he was locked up. “You look perfect, princess.” He whispered as he crawled back on top of her. 

“Thank you.” She smiled, “But I need to see you as well, baby. Been too long since I felt those abs beneath my fingers.”

“Patience.�� He smirked, before leaning back in. 

He quickly buried his tongue inside her mouth, before she even had the chance to take control. He enjoyed her longing to take over once in a while but not this time, not after what she just did for him. He had to be in charge tonight, not just because he had been behind bars for the past three months, but also because he had to be the one making her feel good tonight. He had to be the reason for every ounce of pleasure she was experiencing, it was his way of showing his gratitude towards what she had done for him, what she had risked for him. Not that anything he could ever do could ever make up for that. But if he was being honest to himself, a small part of him had to assert dominance to show her who was in charge, despite what he just did for him.

He let his fingers slide down her thighs, slowly to build up the anticipation she was already drowning in. “Baby…” She moaned into his mouth as if this would make anything better. Instead, it only motivated him to go slower. He knew how much it tortured her but he also knew her reward would be even bigger in the end. 

As he slowly let his fingers dance over her skin, he moved his tongue over to her neck, where he started nibbling on her earlobe, her sweet spot. As he worked himself over her skin, she filled his ears with sweet moans, that got louder and heavier the closer his fingers got to her core. He slipped them in without a warning, causing her to gasp out in pleasure. Her hands were sliding over his overall, gripping the rough material for dear life, as his fingers started to slowly but surely destroy her from the inside. She tried to bury them deeper by pushing herself onto him but he had loved her long enough, so he knew exactly what she was doing. 

“What did I tell you, baby?” He chuckled softly against her skin, sending goosebumps all over her skin. 

“Can’t help it, I… I need you.” She cried out desperately. “Need to feel you inside of me… “ She paused, “Deep inside of me.”

“Need to taste you first, baby. Need you to cum all over my face, can you do that for me, princess?”

“Hmmm.” She hummed, as she pushed herself further onto him. 

Rafe laughed in amusement but decided to grant her her wish. In a second at least. He planted a soft kiss on her lips, before moving down. Without giving her a warning, he ripped away her thong and buried his face between her folds. 

“Just as sweet as I remembered.” He mumbled, sending another set of vibrations straight through her core. “So fucking perfect.”

“C- can you shut up and…- 

“And what?” He asked sternly as he removed his tongue.

“Just suck me off already, I know how fucking sweet I taste…”

“You and that damn attitude.” He grinned but his expression was dark. “Do I need to remind you who's back in charge?” He asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question than anything else. Before she could even think of an answer, he had his tongue buried inside of her once again at a pace that was faster and stronger than anything else she had ever experienced. It took him less than fifteen seconds to make her cum but if she thought she finally got what she wanted, she was in for a bitter surprise. Because now he wouldn’t stop making her cum with everything but his dick, until she finally got who’s back in charge, and knowing her, he knew they were both in for a very long night.

Even though she knew she soon realized (latest after her third orgasm) that she wouldn't get his dick anytime soon, it didn’t stop her from complaining about it. It wasn’t until Rafe had enough of her, that he took the piece of fabric that was once her thong and stuffed it into her mouth. 

“One more, babygirl…” He cooed, “Give me one more and I promise you, you’ll get what you want.” 

She heard what he said but she was drowning so deep in pleasure and the enormous feeling of overstimulation, that she wasn’t able to process the words that left his mouth. It didn’t take long until another wave of pleasure ran over her body, completely swallowing her up in it.

“Good girl.” He grinned, as he licked her juice from his face. He gave her a second to catch her breath as he pulled off his now gray prison suit. He crawled on top of her, removed her panties, and planted soft kisses on her lips, where she could still taste herself on them. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered into her ear, as his hands reached under her back to remove her bra. 

As soon as it had landed on the floor across the room, he had her nipple surrounded by his tongue. He knew how much she loved this, how it sent shivers all over her skin, and how quickly it became torturous for her, as it made her build up an intense amount of pressure down her core, but never enough to release it. 

“Baby…” She cried out, still a little bit overwhelmed by the four orgasms he had already given her. 

“Say who’s in charge and you’ll get whatever it is that you want, princess.” He whispered, knowing exactly how hard it would be for her to admit that. He knew she had a hunger for power but like he had already promised himself earlier, she couldn’t have it, not tonight.

“Please…” She whimpered, as his fingers traced over his well-toned stomach.

“Say it, darling. Say it or I’ll stop.” He whispered against her skin, His hot breath burning right through to her.

“You…” She cried out.

“Who?” 

“You, Daddy. You’re in charge.” She whispered, “Tonight.”

He chuckled in amusement at her quiet addition, nothing different than what he had expected. Before she knew it, he had slammed his dick into her, causing her to moan out in pleasure. “We’ll see ‘bout that.” 

He started slow, his hands entangled in hers, as his tongue was dancing around with hers once again. He loved starting slow and then going faster and faster until all she could do was cry and beg for him to let her cum. She had her legs wrapped around his back, it was her way of regaining at least a tiny bit of control, as she had the power to pull him in even deeper if she wanted to. And combined with her nails digging deep into his skin, that was exactly what she did. But as his thrusts got deeper and faster, the pleasure started clouding her senses, resulting in her legs letting loose. 

“You think you can just trick me like that, pretty girl? Think again.” He smirked, but the expression on his face was dark. She knew exactly what that meant and before she even realized it, he had his hand wrapped around her throat. 

The faster he slammed into her, the louder and more pornographic her moans got, and the deeper her nails dug into her skin. He was sure by now, that he would have marks all over his back by the time they were done but he couldn't give less of a shit. All he wanted was for his girl to drown in pleasure and if took a bloody back to archive that, then so be it. For her he would drown himself in pain, he would bleed for her, hell he would die for her. And as she had proved earlier, she didn’t feel one single bit different about him. 

The tighter the grip around her throat got, the tighter became the knot in her stomach. He felt her walls tighten around him but he wasn’t done with her. Not yet. In a swift motion, he had removed his dick and swung her around. She was about to complain, but before she got a word out, he had rammed his dick back inside of her. 

“Such a good girl.” He moaned into her ear, as he grabbed a chunk of her hair and pulled her head back, and wrapped his hand back around her throat.

He couldn't see it but the tighter he grabbed her, the brighter grew the smile on her lips, as the tears streamed over her face. He hit her right at her sweet spot, the spot he was only able to hit in doggy and the spot that not only caused her to cry but also made her drown in pleasure. It didn’t take long until she felt her fifth orgasm building up, followed by the feeling of his dick starting to twitch, as he felt her walls suffocating him. Their moans started to sync up as if they had never done anything else before. She struggled to stay on all fours, as her orgasm rushed over her, he shot his load right up her core, before he collapsed on top of her, causing them both to fall on the couch. 

Rafe might have felt like the boss tonight, like he was in charge but what he didn’t realize was that every single thing she did and said after she got him out, was a controlled move to get her exactly where she was right now. So who was truly in charge tonight? The boy that was fucking her into oblivion, or the girl that was screaming through the night, as her fifth orgasm of the night, rushed over her?

They stayed like this for a little bit and as they both tried to catch their breath, he let his hand travel through her hair, gently stroking her head. Normally it was her who did that, but Rafe knew she needed some extra care tonight, especially after what she had put herself through for him. 

After he had cleaned her up, he wrapped them both in a soft blanket. They were lying outside on the deck now, under the sky, because he knew how much she loved falling asleep under the stars. Her head was resting on his chest, as his fingers softly danced over her skin. 

“I don’t think I can ever thank you enough, baby.”

“You know, I would die for you, right?” She whispered, her eyes already closed. “You are my everything, Rafe Cameron, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

He knew what she said was true, and that was what made it hurt even more. Alone the thought of her sacrificing herself for him, made his heart bleed but at the same time, a selfish part of him felt good, knowing he was loved by someone this much. 

“I would do the same for you, princess. In a second. Kinda already said that when I was asking you to marry me.” He chuckled softly.

“I know.” She smiled against his chest. 

“Till death do us part?”

“No. There’s nothing that could ever part me from you.”

“Not even with my soul burning in hell?” He chuckled.

“I would follow you anywhere, my love. Even into the depths of hell itself.”

add yourself to my tag list here

tag list: @lexacantsleep @drewstarkeyslut @spideysimpossiblegirl @ditzyzombiesblog @cartiiwannagotoplutoo (this is the prison break fic)

[roosterforme]

The Intern Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Five minutes into an interview with you, and Bradley knew he was in trouble. You were attractive, funny and smart, and now the summer was stretching out before him like an obstacle course he would have to navigate carefully. At least a visit from an old friend should be enough to help him work through his frustrations.

Warnings: Language, mentions of smut and masturbation (eventually 18+)

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

When Bradley got to the Avio headquarters the following morning, he rode the elevator up to his office. He'd already eaten breakfast, gone for a long run and taken a shower, and he was still one of the first ones here. Except for Judy. He smiled when her desk came into view as he turned toward his office door. She was sweet, and it scared him a little bit how much she reminded him of his mom. She was a widow with one son in college, and Bradley would be lost without her. 

"Morning," she said, handing him his mail as he walked past without her even looking up at him. "You have a very busy day, and I already turned on your coffee maker."

He really needed to give her another raise. "Thanks, Judy. Hey, what time is that interview I have?" he asked, flipping through the stack of envelopes in his hand. 

Now she looked up from her computer and met his eyes. "Nine o'clock. And it's Ted's daughter."

"I know," he replied with a small smile. 

"Do you really think she would be a good fit? You'll be working on the yacht for weeks, and all she has is a graduate degree and a daddy with a bankroll." She handed him your résumé with a concerned look.

He shrugged as he skimmed the page again. "She has some related work experience. She volunteered to run the finances for a handful of Philadelphia based charities every year. Her references include the Philadelphia deputy mayor. But you're right, she's pretty green. I'll take this with me," he said as he held the résumé up and headed for his door. "Let me know when she arrives."

"Will do," Judy muttered. 

Bradley made himself another cup of coffee before he settled into his seat. His office had a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance along with the Naval base at North Island where he'd spent several years working. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't. Flying was in his blood, but after five air-to-air kills, it seemed like he'd given up enough of his soul to the Navy. Now he was helping oversee the design of software components that would help keep aviators safer in the air. 

He turned his gaze from the view outside back to your resume. Your name at the top made him smile, and the more he read about you, the more he liked. None of the other people begging him for a job in his department had the same level of academic chops or philanthropic endeavors you did. And he couldn't imagine you begging for a single damn thing, ever. He tapped his keyboard, wondering what your LinkedIn profile looked like. 

Well. Your photo was gorgeous. It was professional looking without a doubt, but he knew better now that the way your smile tilted a little higher on one side meant you were about to deliver a line that would make him laugh. He wondered if you'd had the photographer smiling nonstop, too. 

Bradley paused with his fingers on his keyboard, but he couldn't help it. He typed your full name into the search bar and sorted it by images. There were more headshots of you from academic articles and a few newspapers, but when he scrolled he almost spit his coffee out. There was one of you wearing that same bikini you had on yesterday. When he clicked it for more, it took him to your private instagram page. 

He stared at that tiny thumbnail before he closed his eyes. Really, the way you looked wasn't why he asked you to come here today, and he'd spent a good portion of last evening trying to focus on anything other than how it felt to have your body pressed against his while he held you.

"Fuck," he grunted. He really needed to get laid. He made another mental note next to the one about Judy's raise. He would call one of his friends with benefits and get that taken care of, because if you agreed to join him for a couple months on the company yacht, he'd probably see that bikini again and again. And there was no way he could touch Ted's daughter. Not like that. Even if he wanted to.

And that thought brought him back to the main reason you would be here in the next few minutes. What kind of information could he get out of you? Bradley noticed that the profit and loss sheets from several departments didn't seem to add up. That had been the case for two quarters in a row. When he mentioned it to one of the harried looking accountants one floor down, he told Bradley they wouldn't have time to run an unnecessary audit before next quarter started. 

Someone in this company was doing something shady, and Bradley wanted to know who it was and why. He'd gone over those numbers for days, double checking his math. He knew he wasn't crazy, but he didn't know who he could safely take this information to, especially when the specs on the software they were creating was considered top secret. 

"Your interview is here," Judy's voice suddenly announced through his intercom.

Bradley quickly closed out of the photo of you in a bathing suit that was still on his screen and slammed his laptop shut. "Send her in."

A few seconds later, Judy was holding the door open for you, and you thanked her as you strolled in like you owned the company. Your hair was styled in some sort of clip, and you were wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. Bradley shook his head; it was rich that you called him out for his proclivity for Armani when yours was probably worth three times as much. His gaze drifted down your legs. Your black and white heels were the kinds of things he would love to have thrown over his shoulders in bed, and the bit of white silk peeking out above your jacket buttons reminded him of your skimpy pajamas. 

Inviting you here was a terrible idea. 

You smirked as you ran your right index finger along the charm from Tiffany's that hung from your necklace, and then you reached out to shake his hand over his desk. "Mr. Bradshaw. So lovely to see you again today." Your voice was playful, and Bradley gestured for you to take a seat while he tried his best to gather his thoughts. 

"I was a little afraid you'd show up in your bathing suit," he said, and you nodded as you crossed your legs and set your leather portfolio on your lap. 

"I can certainly understand the cause for that concern," you replied, not missing a beat. "However, I promise you'll see nothing but Armani suits from here on out if I end up coming to the office every day. Now what would you have me do for you all summer? Fetch your coffee? Give you the abridged version of the Wall Street Journal? Sit in on pointless meetings in the conference room across the hallway?"

"That's just it," he said, tilting his head to the side and taking in your neutral expression. He hardly knew what to do with the fact that you made him feel warm and slightly uncomfortable when you were being sassy. "We wouldn't be here at all. And actually, you could wear your bathing suit and swim half the time for all I cared."

Your eyes lit up immediately as you leaned closer to his desk. "This sounds like a trap, but please, carry on. Tell me more."

He chuckled as he moved a little closer to you as well. "I'm being tasked with taking a few weeks to a couple months on the company yacht in the Mediterranean. I have the technical knowledge as well as the access to arrange meetings with members of Avio's European sales team to close some deals. This is all top secret information, but since you've got the right connections, I'll go ahead and tell you that the US government has given us the greenlight to sell our software to a select list of countries."

You licked your lips, and Bradley could barely focus as you said, "So you'll be the one calling all the shots. And you need to have access to some of these countries to schedule meetings and dinners and cocktail parties. You'll be working from the yacht in much the same capacity you are currently working from your office, still expected to head the research department here. But you'll have the added workload of trying to answer questions and sell the software in Europe? Did I miss anything?"

Bradley's eyes went a little wide as he chuckled. "No. Not really."

You were smiling now. "This sounds like half work and half sorority party, and let me tell you, I am more than capable of making both of those things go as smoothly for you as possible."

"Yeah," he said, his voice a little raspy now. "But you'll have to put up with me. And some of these clients have been known to be a little difficult in... a variety of different ways." Bradley's mind drifted to last summer when he'd been on the yacht for a week as well as the summer before that. The wealthier a man becomes, the more he seems to think he could have whatever he wants, and Bradley had seen some wild shit. "But I'll do my best to keep you comfortable and safe. The workload will be intense, to say the least. But it'll all be happening on a one hundred and thirty foot superyacht." 

You eyed him carefully. "This sounds like it was custom made for me, so you either want me or you don't, Mr. Bradshaw." 

Bradley smiled, and his gaze followed your hand as you touched that pretty charm again. "Oh... I want you plenty. Something tells me yachts and Mediterranean vacations are something you simply grew up with. I'm just trying to sell myself now."

The way you laughed reminded him once again of that night in December when you asked him if he wanted to share a bottle of wine with you. "You're very persuasive, Mr. Bradshaw. I can practically smell the sunblock and taste the pasta from here." You bit your lip and considered him, and it felt to Bradley like you could see every flaw and indiscretion inside of him. "Where did you go to school anyway? Yale? Brown? No wait... you look like a Princeton boy to me."

He shook his head as he pointed to his college diploma on the wall. "I went to a state school." 

You gasped, and your eyes went wide as you muttered, "Jesus," while you read it. "Political science? At the University of Virginia? Oh... you should be lying to people. I mean, at least say you went to Dartmouth."

Bradley tried and failed to hold in his laughter, because you truly looked scandalized by this turn of events. "Aww, come on, Ivy League. It's not so bad."

You sputtered with laughter, too. "Did you just call me Ivy League?"

"I sure did," he told you, still laughing. "It's about ten times nicer than what I was going to say."

Your soft gasp as your eyes positively lit up made Bradley's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you going to say?" you asked before biting your lip. 

Shit. You were trouble, and you knew it. "Never mind. My lips are sealed. Can't say that to Ted's daughter."

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "You're no fun right now, but I'm sure as soon as I get you loosened up in some Armani swim trunks on the yacht, you'll be an absolute pleasure for me to deal with."

The way Bradley's cock was twitching should have been warning enough. He was about to get in over his head. But all he could say was, "Does that mean you want the internship?"

Your smile tilted up a little higher on the one side. "Oh, absolutely." Then you stood before him looking like the cat who got the cream, and Bradley had to hope for the best as he stood as well. He could mark this as the first time he'd ever become slightly aroused during an interview, a sign that he desperately needed to get laid. 

He shook your hand and said, "We leave in a few days. Judy will help you get your visas in order. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect, Mr. Bradshaw." 

The way you here still holding his hand and calling him Mr. Bradshaw left his voice barely louder than a rasp. "Judy and I will be in touch."

You turned and shot him a smile over your shoulder as you headed for his office door, and Bradley dropped back down in his chair. He'd call Callie about getting together to hook up before he left for Europe, but he had another more important call to make first. He cleared his throat as he opened his contacts and then put his phone on speaker. He was greeted with a familiar voice filled with laughter.

"Rooster! When are you going to get that yacht warmed up for me?"

Bradley just shook his head and said, "Hangman. You're not going to believe who my summer intern is."

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

You were floating on a raft in the pool wearing your second favorite bathing suit when you were greeted by the sound of your father's voice. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing by wasting your time right now."

"Daddy," you greeted with a smile. "My day was a complete and utter success."

He checked his watch as he said, "Please, elaborate."

You had the trump card, but you knew all too well what it would be like if you didn't. Instead of lecturing you like you could tell he wanted to, he smiled when you said, "I have a job."

"Where?" 

"Avio."

He nodded in appreciation as he said, "I am actually impressed right now. You managed to secure an internship at the company I've spent decades with, and you did so without me knowing anything about it. Which department?"

"Research and development," you replied smoothly.

His eyes went wider. "With Bradley Bradshaw?"

Your tummy swooped, and you sucked in a breath at the mere mention of his name. Spending weeks working with him and entertaining guests with him was going to be... well, something. "Yes. With Bradley Bradshaw."

"Sweetheart," your father said. "He had a career in the Navy."

"Yes. He was an aviator," you recalled from his Avio bio.

"That means he's not going to put up with any nonsense. You don't make him repeat himself, and you don't give him attitude. I'll know immediately if he's displeased with you, I'm sure."

Bradley didn't seem stuffy. He'd already encouraged you to pack your bathing suits. Hell, you were determined to get him to join you in some fun. "Well maybe not immediately as he and I will be on the Avio yacht in the Mediterranean."

Your father stared at you, speechless. Finally he said, "I really don't know how you managed to get exactly what you wanted, but I applaud you, Sweetheart. Well done. I know it sounds fun, but you'll be kept very busy. I hope you know what you're in for."

When he finally wandered back inside after you promised to join him for dinner, you soaked up the last few rays of the dying sunlight. Then you made a mental list of everything you needed to spend the next few days packing as you brushed up on your French and Italian.  "J'adore mon travail. Amo il mio lavoro. I love my job."

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

Bradley was still chuckling as he got off the phone with Ted a few days later. Your father tried to warn him that you could be a bit of a handful. Like Bradley wasn't fully aware of that fact. As if he hadn't known since December. He could practically hear your disdain for his alma mater and your delight in international travel from his condo.

He was stacking his suits up in his extra bedroom along with several pairs of shoes, and he shook his head as he looked down at his swim trunks in his hands. They actually were all Armani, and you'd have a field day when you realized it. Or perhaps skinny dipping would become a thing?

Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. Callie Bassett was on her way over, so that should help alleviate some of this tension. He'd been friends with Halo for over a decade, and she had slowly and naturally turned into a friend with benefits over time. She was still in the Navy, and she was discreet. It was easier than having a girlfriend. It was all he had time for. 

As he organized his suits, he remembered you told him he looked like a Princeton boy. He could just picture you with a parade of preppy assholes following you around, and he wondered if you ever slummed it with anyone like him before. It made him want to pack some of his casual clothes including his Virgina baseball cap and his worn out golf shorts. So he did. 

Then his doorbell buzzed, and he went to let Callie in. He needed this taken care of right now. She smelled good, and she looked cute. She always did. And she wore something a little skimpy just for him. The kiss on his cheek in greeting quickly turned to her lips brushing his as she said, "I haven't seen you in weeks."

"Been busy," he replied, taking her by the hand and heading for his bedroom. "And I'm leaving for Portugal on Saturday."

"How long?" she asked, pouting a little bit as Bradley reached for the hem of her dress and eased it up and over her head in one fluid motion. 

"Couple months," he whispered, taking in her soft, naked body with his gaze. 

"Months?" she whined as he wrapped his hands around her waist and smirked at her. 

"Don't even act like we are anything close to exclusive, Cal. Now... how do you want it?"

She licked her lips and looked up at him with those familiar dark eyes just as his phone rang in his pocket. He didn't hesitate or check the number; he never did. "Bradshaw."

"Hey, State School. I have a few questions for you."

Bradley froze with your voice in his ear and Callie's fingers on his zipper. He grunted softly as she eased it down and touched him. He just knew if he closed his eyes and listened to your voice, he'd probably finish in her hand within two minutes. 

"Ivy League," he rasped, taking a step back away from Halo who was now standing before him completely naked and rolling her eyes.

"Are you busy?" you asked, and Bradley looked Halo in the eyes without remorse as he answered you.

"No. I'm not busy. I can talk." He held up one finger and zipped himself up as he left his bedroom in favor of his office. "As long as you tell me how you got this number."

You laughed as he sank down into his desk chair. "You think it's exclusive or something? Judy gave it to me. And it's probably listed on the company website."

Brat. He narrowed his eyes, adding a note to his mental list to make sure it was not listed on the company website. "What can I help you with?"

"Well, I'm packing and hoping for a little input from you."

"On Thursday night at nine?" he asked. "And don't you have a butler to help you with that?"

"Like you have anything else going on?"

Bradley thought about Callie waiting in his bedroom, but instead of ushering this call along, he asked, "What did you pack so far?"

You sighed. "Sixteen bathing suits, piles of lingerie, and sunglasses. And I'm only kind of kidding."

Fighting the urge to ask for more details, he said, "Unfortunately I can't let you wear any of that in front of potential clients. So throw in some suits and dresses."

"Some suits and dresses? You'll need to be a little bit more specific, Sir." 

Sir.

That one word was echoing through his mind along with your bratty tone, and he had to take a deep breath. "Why don't you bring the suit you wore when I interviewed you? That looked good. And so did the dress you wore to your father's holiday party. The dark green one."

There was a pause before you said, "You remember what I wore to the party?"

"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "It looked nice. Pack some cocktail dresses, too."

"How many should I pack?"

"How many do you have?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Bradley laughed. "I'm sure you know better than I do what you should wear."

You scoffed. "You're acting like you've never spent a summer on the Avio yacht before."

"I haven't," he replied easily. "Just a few days here and there. I'm sure I'll be learning things from you."

"Then you'll be learning from the best."

He bit back a groan as he said, "That's what I'm counting on. That's why I hired you."

"I won't let you down," you promised, and Bradley believed you. "I'll see you at the airport on Saturday morning. Don't forget your swim trunks."

You ended the call before he could say another word, and now he was convinced you had called him simply because you could. If he was frustrated before, it was nothing compared to the way he felt now. Spending weeks on end with Ted's daughter was supposed to help him get to the bottom of the messy business with Avio, not cause other issues to arise. 

He unzipped his pants, intent on touching himself,  before jolting to his feet. "Shit," he muttered as he left his office and went back to his bedroom. "Cal?" he called out. "Sorry. It was a work call." But he was completely alone. He laughed as his phone vibrated in his hand with a text from her.

Have a great time in Europe. Don't bother calling me when you get back.

Bradley was sure he'd hear about this from his old friend Natasha when Callie bitched about him at work. But it didn't really matter. After she had a few weeks to cool off, she'd come back when he needed her again. For now, he'd take matters into his own hands and hope that would be enough.

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

Your father insisted upon seeing you off on Saturday morning which gave Bradley a few minutes alone with him. He was listening to Ted as he watched you struggle with your seven pieces of Dior luggage on the tarmac next to the chartered airplane. 

"Bradley, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," your father told him with a laugh. "She's tenacious though. And whip smart. Make sure you challenge her, because she will certainly challenge you."

Now Bradley laughed as he shook Ted's hand. "I'll do my best."

"If she gets to be too much, just leave her in one of the marinas with her passport."

He would never do that to you. He doubted it would ever come to that. In fact, he was already impressed by the way you took care of things for yourself. Sure, you looked like you belonged in an ad for designer gym clothes with your leggings and soft hoodie zipped over your sports bra. But you were also taking your luggage from the back of the black Mercedes-Benz G-Class yourself.

"I can assure you that she and I will be just fine, Sir."

"What have I told you about calling me Ted?" Bradley received a friendly cuff on the shoulder before shaking his hand and turning toward you. 

He picked up the last two pieces of your luggage at the same time and carried them to the cargo hold while you trailed after him. "I don't need help," you told him as he stowed them away. Then you added, "You look weird out of your Armani."

"I look weird?" he asked with a laugh as he glanced down at his chinos and Oxford shirt.

"A good kind of weird. Like when you wore that Fair Isle sweater last year."

Bradley examined your pretty face, and you didn't look away. He remembered the dress you wore to Ted's holiday party, and you remembered his sweater. Right now he was wishing he'd joined you for that bottle of French wine that night, something he'd remedy on the yacht. A flood of bad decisions just waiting to happen filled his mind as he said, "Go say goodbye to your father. It's almost time to go."

"Yes, Sir," you told him with your chin held high and a smirk gracing your lips. Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs while you flung your arms around Ted and kissed him on the cheek. Then you came strolling his way once again, and he followed you closely up the stairs as you turned back and softly said, "I'm all yours."

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

Ivy League spells trouble for Bradley, but at least he knows it. And he didn't get an ounce of relief before getting on that plane. What could possibly go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[ramblingoak]

Little Thief

Secondo x Female Reader

A little yeehaw!Secondo story for my dearest friendo @kissingghouls. Happy Birthday to my favorite haunted painting! I hope you have the most amazing day because you deserve only amazing things 💙 (special thank you to @tasty-ribz for the perfect Secondo art)

Warnings: gun violence, smut, nsfw 18+ only, mdni, 5,700 words, this does have a connection to The Cardinal's Bride universe but you can enjoy this just fine on its own! (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

Coming here was a mistake.

You jumped over the bar as the bullets started flying, ducking down and throwing an arm over your head when the liquor bottles began shattering above you.  The Ministry was a big mark, way bigger than you had ever hit before, and you knew, you knew that it was going to be risky.  You just hadn’t expected this to happen.  Although at least the gunfight wasn’t your fault.

This time.

A body crashed down next to you, lifeless and still.  With a grunt you turned it over to search for their gun.  It was still in its holster so you yanked it out, pausing to shove your hand into their back pocket and take their wallet too.  It’s not like they were gonna need either anyway.  You rolled onto your knees, carefully putting your hands at the edge of the bartop to take a peek over.  

“Well, shit.”

Chaos was still reigning over the casino floor but fortunately now it was mostly fist fights.  The Ghouls that worked here had made quick work of most of those that had started shooting.  You could see a small pile of bodies forming already.  The two big Ghouls that were working the door that night easily lugging the men around.  They were distracted enough you glanced towards the door, knowing that you needed to get out of there soon.  Especially before any deputies arrived.  

Lowering yourself back down you started crawling towards the door, keeping behind the bar and trying to avoid the broken glass.  Tonight had been such a damn waste.  You should have just skipped the town altogether.  This is what happened when you got cocky but damn, you had gotten tired of doing small jobs.  Stealing from a big casino, from The Ministry of all places, would have been perfect.  And it would have given you enough money to have a little breathing room before your next job.

Oh well, you had gotten a decent enough amount from cheating at cards.  It was enough to get you a room in the next town over for a few weeks at least.  You reached the end of the bar and started to pull yourself up for one last look.  Unfortunately you weren’t met with a view of the casino floor like you expected.  Instead you ended up face to face with the man that ran The Ministry, a man you had heard enough about to know you should avoid him at all costs.

“Going somewhere?”  Secondo’s tone was bored, his eyes raking over you briefly before he turned his attention to the glass of whiskey in his hand.  “That’s a shame, I was hoping you’d stay a little longer.”

“Oh?  Why is that?”

You knew you should’ve just kept your mouth shut and made a run for the door.  The Ghouls were still occupied enough sorting through who needed to be kicked or carried out that you doubted any of them would try to stop you.  The chance of this man trying to stop you though had you frozen in place.

“I was curious how much more of my money you would steal.”

Fuck.  You glanced towards the door but Secondo was smirking when you looked back so you stayed put.  There was no way you’d make it now.  He might be surrounded by his Ghouls but you’d heard enough stories about Papa Secondo to have a healthy amount of fear of him.  Enough to realize you definitely shouldn’t have come here.  You took a fortifying breath and squared your shoulders while you stared him down.

Time to see if you could talk yourself out of trouble.

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“Come now, I’m not an idiot.”  He took a sip of his drink before continuing,  “And despite you thinking you could get away with stealing from me I don’t think you’re one either.”

“A compliment from Papa?  Sounds like something I should brag about.”  When those odd eyes of his flashed to yours you reached out and grabbed the drink from his hands, knocking back a mouthful before setting it down.  “Kind of like how I’d brag about stealing from you.  You know, if I had done that.”

“Are you sure?  Because I’ve been watching you most of the night.”  His voice had dropped an octave and he’d turned to give you his full attention.  “Ever since my associate Mist told me what you were up to.”

“Mist?”

“She’s at the end of the bar now.  Watching.”  You looked down to see a woman with piercing blue eyes leaning against the bar.  When you turned back to Secondo he had leaned in close and his breath danced across your cheek with his next words.  “She thinks you will do something stupid.”

“The only stupid thing I did tonight was come here.”  He narrowed his eyes at your comment but you continued anyway,  “Your games are terrible and this whiskey is mostly water.”

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting him to do at your insults.  Threaten you maybe.  At worst try to grab you and then who knows what.  Mist certainly seemed the type to do whatever her boss told her to do.  But all Secondo did was laugh, the sound drew the attention of some of the other Ghouls but they got back to cleaning quickly.  

“Ma dài, bellezza?  Sei una terribile bugiarda.”

“What did you call me?”  Secondo’s only answer was to let his eyes wander over you again before taking another drink.  “Answer me.”

“A terrible liar.”  His smirk returned when he saw your face turning red.  “But I suppose I could also call you a terrible thief.”

“A lot of words just to call me a liar.”

“Unfortunately the other ones will cost you.”  

Secondo stepped around the end of the bar to stand beside you.  To have him so close was…intoxicating was the only word you could think of.  Despite the danger he posed you there was no denying that he was an extremely handsome man.  His presence alone commanded attention, respect and a healthy dose of fear if you had wronged him.  But your heart wasn’t racing just because you had a pocketful of money you’d stolen from him.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much to give you.”  You teasingly patted the sides of your jacket, taking a moment to flash it open so he could see the gun holstered at your hip.  “So how about we call it a night before anything else happens.”

“What could happen?”  He reached over to one of the few unbroken bottles along the wall and poured himself another drink.  “Would you continue to cheat at cards?”

“I didn’t fucking cheat.”

“Or perhaps there’s a pair of loaded dice hidden in a pocket somewhere.”  Secondo took a step closer, pinning you against the bar.  “Would you let me look, ladruncola?”

It irritated you how badly you wanted to say ‘yes’ but honestly the longer he looked at you like that the more you wanted him to.  Up close he smelled so good, he looked good too.  His clothes were immaculate, down to the green handkerchief peeking out of his vest pocket.  There wasn’t any harm in enjoying his company for the evening, right?

Especially if it got you out of trouble.

“As long as you search me in your room and not at the bar.”  You found yourself returning his pleased smile but a flash of something reflecting in the glass of the bottle behind him had your chest seizing.  One hand went for your gun while your other grabbed ahold of Secondo’s vest and you shoved him to the side with all your might.  “Get down!”

Secondo cursed as the bottle shattered and you ducked to the side as you turned with your gun raised.  A few tables from the bar one of the men that started the fight was standing with his own gun pointed your way.  Secondo’s way.  He snarled and moved to point it at you but he was too late, you let out two shots that hit him in the chest and had his body jerking backwards.  The nearest Ghoul kicked the gun out of his hand but you knew he wouldn’t be getting up from that.

“Well, well.”  You turned to look down at Secondo, relieved to see him unhurt but also smirking at you.  Even if it was infuriating.  “Grazie, ladruncola.”

“What does that mean?”  Secondo took your offered hand, rising from the floor elegantly.  He nodded towards Mist when she wandered over and she quickly turned away to go to the other Ghouls.  When you tried to pull your hand back he held it tighter, his thumb sweeping across your knuckles.  “I’m waiting.”

“Grazie means ‘thank you’.  And I’ll say it again, ladruncola.”  He brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the back.  The hairs of his mustache tickled your skin softly when he repeated himself.  “Grazie.”

“You’re welcome,”  Your knuckles received kisses next followed by him turning your hand over to kiss your palm.  “But I meant the other word.”

“I’d rather tell you after I get you in my room.”  

You sighed, knowing you probably should just leave.  After saving him he probably would let you without a fuss too.  There was just something about him that had you taking a step closer to straighten the handkerchief in his vest.  You rested your hand on his chest and moved it up towards his shoulder while you leaned in close.

“As long as you promise to make it worth my while.”  He was grinning when you pulled away, his mismatched eyes twinkling in a way you didn’t think you’d be able to forget.  “Papa.”

“That’s a challenge I’m happy to accept.”

“How many weapons do you have?”

Secondo’s voice was equally incredulous and impressed.  You gave him a smirk of your own as you placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back towards his bed.  He went willingly, his eyes dropping down to your hands as you made quick work of pulling the two knives he hadn’t found out of their hiding places.

“I like to be prepared.”  When he sat back on the bed you followed, placing a knee on either side of his legs and resting your hands on his shoulders.  “Surely you can appreciate that, hmm?”

“I can.”  He took your mouth in a dizzying kiss, stealing your breath while his hands began to work on the buttons of your pants.  You broke away with a gasp when he slid one hand inside, right in between your legs where you were already hot and wet.  He wrapped his other arm around your waist to pull you closer, trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth all the way to your ear.  “I’ll appreciate all of you tonight.”

“I think I can promise the same.”  You trailed your hands down to the buttons of his vest, going for his shirt buttons when you were done.  His chest was covered with dark hair, patches of silver mixed in.  He nearly purred like a cat when you ran your fingers through it.  While you explored his chest his own hands began to wander but you were too distracted to stop him from slipping his fingers into the hidden pocket in your shirt.  “Wait!”

He pulled away, your loaded dice held triumphantly in his hand.  You had a sudden jolt of fear that perhaps this was all a game to him and he only brought you up here to expose why you were even at The Ministry.  Neither of you were moving, your eyes stuck on his face while he began to roll the dice between his thumb and forefinger.

“These are certainly interesting, aren’t they?”  He made a loose fist and shook them, his eyes moving to your face while they rattled around.  There wasn’t any anger there, if anything he seemed amused but you still couldn’t bring yourself to move.  With a quick movement he flicked the dice on the floor, not looking away as they landed.  “Tell me what numbers came up.”

You looked down, your legs starting to shake from where they still straddled him and your heart racing.  He placed both his hands on your waist while you leaned over as far as you dared, trying to make a show of looking even though you knew what numbers would be facing up.  He did too, the bastard.

“Lucky you, a pair of sixes.”

He smirked, tugging you towards him again abruptly.  You fell against his chest with a grunt, your mouth hovering right over his.  He flashed you a smile before responding, his words making your heart race for an entirely different reason.

“Lucky me indeed.”  His eyes were locked on yours for a few heartbeats before he glanced down at your lips.  “If you would like to leave I wouldn’t stop you.”  He moved so his lips were hovering over your ear.  “But I keep the money and the dice.”

“I don’t know, I feel like I won that money fair and square.”  His chest rumbled with laughter, his hands tightening around your waist.  “And I don’t want to leave.”

“Bene.  Because I have been wanting to kiss you ever since you insulted my whiskey.”

A retort was on the tip of your tongue, it did taste like it was watered down, but talking was impossible when he kissed you.  It was as demanding as the man itself.  You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck while one of his hands gripped your head, tilting it just so to make the angle perfect.  He tasted like whiskey and smoke, the combination intoxicating.

The need to feel more of him became too much, your hands pushing and pulling at his shirt and vest to get it off.  With a quick movement he spun you so you were on your back on his bed, staring up at him while he took them off himself.  Your eyes moved over his chest appreciatively, enjoying how the muscles of his arms moved under his skin.  It was obvious he had done more than run a casino in his life.  Those muscles were evidence of years working with guns and horses.

“See something you like?”

“Take the pants off and I’ll let you know.”  His sudden laughter had you smiling and you lifted a foot up to rest on his thigh.  “Unless you want my help?”

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you the opportunity.” 

In a flash you were kneeling before him on the bed, your fingers eagerly working on the fastenings of his pants.  His gun belt was already on the floor next to yours and your small pile of knives.  It had surprised you he didn’t want a weapon close but you also had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t need any sort of weapon to take care of you if necessary.  The thought should scare you, being here in his room should scare you, but all you could think of was how he was making your blood race through your veins.

And how the sight of his cock was making your mouth water.

Thick and long, it jutted out from the patch of hair between his legs proudly.  There was already a drop of liquid at the tip and you leaned in to lick it off, grinning when it twitched.  You locked eyes with him as you wrapped your lips around the tip, applying pressure along the bottom with your tongue.  You began to move further down but he rested his hands on the side of your head, stopping your momentum.

“Ah ah, I have a different plan.”  You pulled back, licking your lips and watching him as he smiled down at you.  “Would you let me taste you, ladruncola?”

“If you insist.”

The visual of Secondo dropping to his knees in front of you wasn’t one you would forget any time soon.  His fingers were steady as they undid your clothes, far steadier than yours were right now.  All you had the strength to do was watch, watch as he exposed more and more of you to his strange eyes.  It felt a little unfair for him to still be wearing his pants as he pulled off yours but as he looked at your core you couldn’t find the words to say anything about it.

“Bellissima.”  You had no idea what it meant but the word, the worshipful way he said it made your cheeks heat up.  He laid his hands on the inside of your thighs and gently push them wider.  As his face got closer to where you were wet for him you could see his nose twitch as he took deep breaths and you were not going to survive this.  Secondo closed his eyes and you saw his lips moving briefly before he caught your gaze.  “Nema.”

His mouth covered you in the next moment, his hands moving behind you to grip your ass and hold you still.  It was a good thing he did because while he licked and sucked at your flesh you were twitching and shaking.  The sensations were overwhelming and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to be closer or get away from it.  His nose pressed insistently against your clit while he worked his tongue around your opening, flicking and swiping it over and over.  When he suddenly pushed it inside you couldn’t help but cry out, your hand letting go of the blanket in its grip and instead gripping his hair.

“Secondo, f-fu–ah!”

The man growled against you, gripping you tighter while he ate you out.  Words kept bubbling in your throat but they just turned into whimpers.  You weren’t even sure what you were trying to say, perhaps your own words of worship to the man himself.  The rumors you had always heard about the man and his family briefly flashed in your mind.  Images of the devil and upside down crosses but they were banished as soon as he slid two thick fingers into you and moved his mouth to your clit.

If this was how they worshipped the devil you’d sign up in a second.

Your peak was coming fast, wave after wave of pleasure making spots appear in your vision.  Secondo didn’t let up, he just fucked you faster with his fingers.  Two soon becoming three all while he sucked on your clit.  Your nails kept digging harder and harder into his scalp but it didn’t seem to phase him.  If anything it only spurred him on and when he curled his fingers to rub against your inner walls you felt yourself fall over a cliff, your orgasm rushing to meet you at the bottom.

“Are you awake?”  You had no idea how long you had been laying there panting but his deep voice finally dragged you back from where you’d been drifting.  You blinked up at him, grinning when you saw how out of sorts his mustache was.  “Something amuse you?”

“I should steal from casinos more often.”  Making this man laugh was like a drug and you did your best to commit the sight and sound to memory.  It wasn’t just his mustache that was a mess, his hair was tussled and twisted from your fingers too.  You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up and smoothing it out, smiling softly when his eyes closed and he pressed into your hands.  “You’re like a cat.”

“Un gatto?”  He raised an eyebrow when you grinned.  “I’ve had worse nicknames.”

“Oh?  Like Papa?”

“Papa was a title, my title.  Long ago.”  You continued to rub along his scalp, waiting to see if he said anything else.  “I went by a different one before that, before I was called back to my family.”

“What were you doing then?”

Secondo flashed you a small smile as began to pat your legs, nodding his head towards the headboard.  You obediently scooted back, not being able to stop your eyes from falling to his cock.  It had softened a bit but still looked eager for attention.  He followed you further onto the bed, rubbing his hands up your legs until they were encouraging your thighs apart once more.

“About the same thing you’re doing now.”  When you raised an eyebrow and gave him a once over he chuckled.  “The same thing you were doing earlier.  Stealing.”

“I wasn–”

“But I was much, much better at it, ladruncola.”

“Either fuck me or shut up.”

He smirked as he looked down at you, one hand going to his cock and beginning to stroke it.  You wiggled a bit under the attention, the tension building in you again just by watching him pleasure himself.  Well, two could play at that game.  With a smirk of your own you began to touch yourself, sliding your fingers down your wet flesh and easily pressing two inside. 

His eyes quickly locked onto your fingers, watching intensely as you moved them in and out.  You added a third finger but it wasn’t even close to how it felt with his in you.  With a frustrated growl you said his name and he immediately looked back up to your face.  There was an unreadable look there, one you hadn’t seen yet that night.  For a moment you were worried he was going to move away and tell you to leave but instead he finally moved closer.  He grabbed your hand and tugged it away so he could line his cock up.

“Bone Daddy.”  Your eyes flashed up to his to see him grinning.  “That’s what they called me.”

You repeated the name, trying it out on your tongue.  While he teased your opening with the head of his cock you thought back to those rumors you had heard of the Emeritus family.  An image of Secondo with a painted face resembling a skull flashed in your mind and your gasp had little to do with how his cock was beginning to stretch you.  He could be terrifying now you could barely comprehend how terrifying he would have been looking like that.

Terrifying and beautiful.

When he was all the way inside of you the name tumbled from your lips again.  You took a moment to trace your finger along his face, trying to imagine what the design of the paint looked like.  He let you go on for a few seconds before taking your hand in his and pressing it down next to your head.  If he hadn’t of been looking at you like he was, like you were something he cared about, you would have been concerned you overstepped.  Instead he lowered his head to kiss you, nipping at your lips until you opened up for his tongue.

You kissed him back, trying to match his intensity but you were getting desperate for him to move elsewhere.  He groaned into your mouth when you wrapped your legs around his waist and wiggled your hips.  After what felt like an eternity he finally pulled back, his lips as swollen as yours were.  You felt like you were going to lose your mind if he didn’t move, if he didn’t start fucking you right now.

“Secondo, please.”

“Ah, ladruncola.  You don’t need to beg.  I’ll take care of you.”  You bit your lip as he began to pull out, the drag of his thick length so good along your walls.  He paused with the head at your entrance and you were so close to screaming at him, especially when he looked down at you smugly.  “We’ll save the begging for later, eh?”

“Whatever you say Bone Daddy.”

You expected a response, another comment to continue your banter but instead he began to press back inside of you.  It was a slow and steady thrust, not giving you a moment to adjust as he pushed in all the way.  Your hands were scrabbling at the sheets by your head and your body trembled.  When your groins touched he didn’t pause, he just started to pull out immediately.

Secondo quickly had a rhythm going, a steady drive in and out of you with his cock.  All you could do was hang on, your legs still wrapped around him.  The bed creaked beneath you both, the headboard hitting the wall when he began to thrust harder.  He dropped down so he could kiss you, mimicking the movements of his cock with his tongue.  You bit and sucked at it, one of your hands letting go of the sheet to find its way back into his hair.

Both of you were moaning, gasping as the pleasure began to build.  You had to pull away from his mouth to suck in air and you buried your face in his neck while you did so.  He kissed along your scalp while one of his big hands cradled the back of your head.  It all suddenly felt so intimate, so much more than what it had started out as that you couldn’t help but imagine more of this.  More than a night and more than a frenzied coupling.

“Look at me, ladruncola.”  His fingers tightened just enough to get you to pull away, your head falling back onto the pillow.  His thrusts were more sure now, purposeful.  He slipped a hand down your body to touch you between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it just right.  “I want to watch you.  I want to see your face.”

Fuck, it was too much but you couldn’t deny him.  You clung to him and panted as you hit your peak once again, your walls spasming around him.  He was the first to break eye contact, groaning and muttering in Italian when his cock began to kick and empty inside of you.  For a moment you imagined that you could feel it, feel his seed fill you up.  Your hips moved on their own accord then, rotating slightly to help him as he came down until he finally stopped and collapsed on top of you.

You weren’t sure if it had been minutes or hours but his weight was a comforting thing and you didn’t have any desire to move.  His softened cock had fallen out of you and while the feeling of his seed leaving was uncomfortable you hoped that he would take you again before the morning arrived.  You had no desire to leave this room.  The only thing you wanted was Secondo and you’d take as much of him as he was willing to give you.

With a grunt he finally pulled away, rolling onto his back next to you.  The cool night air drifted in through an open window across the room and distantly you could hear the tinkling keys of a piano.  You risked a glance over at him, letting your eyes linger when you saw his were closed.  The skull paint appeared in your mind again and you resolved to ask him later what it looked like.

“Would you like some watered down whiskey?”  

You snorted, nodding when he cracked open an eye to look at you.  He got up with a grunt and made his way over to a small bar against the wall.  When he headed back with two glasses in his hand you sat up and leaned back against the headboard.  The whiskey burned your tongue but it was good, much better than what you had at his bar. 

“So you save the good stuff for yourself.”

“And you.”  He tilted his head back and drained the rest of his glass, looking pleased when you did the same.  With the ease of a cat he got up and refilled them, grabbing something else before he made his way back over.  “I was hoping you would indulge me.”

“Haven’t I already been doing that?”

“Indeed, but I was hoping I could interest you in a game of poker.”  He placed his glass on a small table by the bed and you then noticed the item in his hand was a deck of cards.  They came to life in his hands as he began to shuffle them, doing moves and tricks that were impossible for your eyes to keep up with.  “Perhaps you’d like to make it interesting.”

“I’m listening.”

Secondo began to deal the cards out and you leaned over to set your glass next to his so you could gather yours up.  

“I would like an opportunity to win my money back.”  Your eyes flashed up to his in alarm but his expression hadn’t changed.  He had the same amused and almost fond look that he’d had since he had brought you into his room.  You looked back down at your cards and started to shuffle them slowly.  “But of course if I lose you stand to earn even more.  Except fairly this time.”

“I can play fair but you’re going to regret it.”

“Oh I don’t think so.  Either way I’ll still have you in my bed.  Won’t I, ladruncola?”

“You haven’t told me what that means yet.  Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

“Another thing you can win then.  I will translate that and more if you beat me.”

“Prepare to lose, Papa.”

Secondo laughed before taking a drink and then leaning in to kiss you.  The whiskey was fresh on his tongue and you sucked at it to get a better taste.  While the kiss deepened you thought about everything that had led you to this man’s bed.  About getting caught up in a gun fight and then getting caught by Secondo himself.

You thought about seeing that man raise his gun and how you hadn’t even blinked before shoving Secondo out of the way.  You thought of his presence and his words, how he had gotten you into his room even though he didn’t have to try very hard.  It was easy to imagine this man holding the attention of a congregation if those rumors were true.  You’d certainly follow him to more than just his bedroom.

When he pulled away you couldn’t help but pout and he nipped at your bottom lip before leaning back again.  He picked up his cards but his gaze was steady on you, those green and white eyes unwavering.  You began to fidget, shuffling your cards in slightly unsteady hands before you couldn’t take it any more.

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ll be losing at all tonight.”  

“What do you mean?”

He reached out for your hand, bringing it to his mouth, cards and all.  Gentle kisses were pressed over your knuckles before he let go.

“Either way I’m winning you, aren’t I?”

You had to bite your lips to stop yourself from saying something stupid.  Something stupid and sappy that you had no right to say.  But Secondo continued to watch you and his face was content, like he didn’t have a care in the world and just wanted to enjoy his time with you.  It was a feeling you shared so you stopped trying to hide it and let it show on your face.

“Me too.”

“Bene.  Well then, I’ll let you go first.”

As the game began and went on you couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.  Obviously the sex had been amazing and you hoped there would be more of it soon but spending time with Secondo like this felt amazing too.  You were able to draw some more stories out of him and in exchange you told him a few of yours.  Both of you showed off some scars and the actions that led to them.  

You got a description of what Bone Daddy looked like, skull paint and all.  He told you about the church he and his Ghouls belonged to.  Used to belong to.  There was definitely more of a story there but you weren’t going to press it.  As a thank you for him sharing something you could tell still pained him you shared a story that still pained you.  At that point the card game was forgotten, the cards falling to the floor when you both met in a heated kiss.

Later, as you both caught your breath, your skin sticky with sweat and other things, you felt something press against your back.  With a grunt you raised yourself on an elbow and reached a hand into the sheets to find the culprit.  You came back with a handful of cards and as you leaned over Secondo to toss them with the others on the floor you noticed something that had you freeze.

There were two ace of spades.

Secondo was laughing when you turned to glare at him, easily bringing a hand up to block the cards when you threw them his way.  You wanted to make a bigger deal of it but the problem was you recognized them as your own cards.  The bastard had grabbed your deck although when he slipped it out of your coat you had no idea.  He wrapped an arm around your waist and began to tug you close, chuckling when you let him with minimal protest.

“That’s quite the deck you have.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s too bad we didn’t finish the game I think I had the hand to beat.”

“Shut.  Up.”

“Ah, ladruncola.  Don’t be upset with me.”

“Tell me what ‘ladruncola’ means.”  When he didn’t speak you turned in his arms to stare him down.  “Tell me.”

“Little thief.”  He was kissing you again before you were able to curse at him.  It was really unfair how his kisses made you lose track of yourself.  It ended far too soon but he stayed close, tilting his head down so your foreheads rested together.  “But you’re my little thief, aren’t you?”

You kissed him again in answer, opening your mouth over his while you moved to straddle his lap.  There were certainly worse things he could call you.  And there were certainly worse things that could be happening right now.  This was infinitely better than spending the night in jail and if you were honest with yourself this was one of the best nights of your life.

You’d be his ladruncola as long as he would have you.

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

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[waynes-multiverse]

Kinky request? 🤔 I don't know if you got this one already but how about Beau loving the risk of getting caught fucking in his office? Maybe turning it into a Blowjob under his desk befor they actually get caught by Popcorn or Jenny?🤭

A/N: Yup, I haven't forgotten about Dirty Drabbles. My inbox is still full of these, so here's another one. Enjoy some naughty alone time with our favorite Sheriff! 🤍🤠

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSFW, shameless flirting, semi-public smut, office blowjob, some fluff as well

Word Count: 1.4k

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist

Jurisdiction

A few hasty knocks on his office door drew the Sheriff’s attention away from his files and to the intruder. He told Jenny and Poppernak he needed some peace and quiet this afternoon to catch up on the piling paperwork on his desk.

God, he hated paperwork. It was his least favorite part of the job.

“Popcorn, I told you I don’t wanna be disturbed,” Beau barked a little rougher than usual, the tension headache making him slightly cranky.

“Yes, sir, I know.” Poppernak swallowed and blinked at him insecurely, forcing a deep sigh from the Sheriff’s lips. “But, uhm, you have a visitor.”

Beau’s features lightened at that. Maybe Emily decided to surprise him with lunch. “Who?”

“FBI, sir.”

Once more, Beau sighed heavily, the crease in his brow reappearing. “Alright, what do they want?”

“She wants to see an old friend,” said a female voice, Beau’s head tilting at the familiarity before a smile spread on his freckled face.

“Sorry, couldn’t keep her out any longer,” Jenny apologized as she rushed in behind the agent.

“It’s alright,” Beau told his deputy, his grin only growing. Soon his sunny smile reached from ear to ear. “Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N, I’ll be damned… What brings you into my little corner of the world, huh?”

Y/N chuckled, her smile competing with his. “Heard you had a serial killer on your hands. Thought I check it out, offer my help…”

“Ah.” Beau nodded and got up from his creaking swivel chair, sauntering closer to her. He leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms in front of his chest, the shirt tightly stretching over his muscles. “Of course, the FBI’s snooping around. I believe that ain’t your jurisdiction, sweetheart.”

“C’mon, we’ve had fun last time we’ve worked together,” Y/N said and winked.

Beau laughed, his cheeks flushing red, the change of color luckily hidden by his beard. “That we did. And here I thought you just came here to see me.”

“Who says I didn’t?” Y/N smirked.

“You guys know each other?” Jenny asked curiously, catching some of the flirtatious air in the room. Beau guessed that if the blonde didn’t make the connection, she wouldn’t be such a good detective but still hoped she wouldn’t tease him about it once their shift was over.

“Worked a case together down in Texas. Cartel business,” Y/N explained without taking her eyes off the Sheriff. It was as if the others in the small office didn’t even exist.

“Yup, Special Agent Y/L/N is one of the best in the narcotics game,” Beau added.

“Major Crimes now, actually,” Y/N corrected him.

“Look at you!” Beau nodded, impressed, sending her a smile before he turned to his two subordinates. “Guys, how about you let me catch up with Agent Y/L/N, see if we need the FBI’s help with this one, alright?”

“Sure, boss,” Jenny said and shot him a knowing smirk. The blonde then grabbed a confused Poppernak and dragged him out of the office, closing the door behind them.

“Good to see you, Y/N,” Beau said with a warm smile as soon as the two of them were alone.

“You, too, Arlen. That Sheriff title suits you,” she replied flirtatiously. “So, you’re back with the ex?”

“Why are you asking?” he fired back immediately.

Y/N shrugged innocently. “Just assumed since you moved up here.”

“Nah, just did that for the kid,” he explained and could’ve sworn she looked relieved. “What about you? Still seeing that spunky DA?”

“Ted?” Y/N scoffed, shaking her head. “God, no. Dumped that guy months ago.”

“Good, I never liked that guy,” Beau admitted with a small smile that probably gave away too much. But if Y/N caught it, she surely didn’t care.

“Yeah, I never liked your bitch of an ex-wife either,” Y/N said bluntly and grinned at him unapologetically.

“Still got a mouth on you, huh?” Beau’s gaze wandered down her body, feeling his dick harden and strain his pants. Her hips, ass, and thighs were clad in tight denim, her breasts close to spilling out of her white blouse and bra as he bit back a lustful smirk.

“You betcha. You always loved that about me,” Y/N retorted, wiggling her eyebrows. Stalking closer to him, she stopped directly in front of him, so close their breaths mingled as her fingers played with the collar of his shirt. Chewing seductively on her lower lip, she asked, “Still into living and loving dangerously?”

Beau didn’t respond to that question. Instead, he grabbed her and pulled her closer in one swift motion, crashing his lips against hers and sliding his tongue inside her mouth.

“Lock the door,” he ordered her in a deep growl, the need for her painfully pushing against his zipper.

With the door locked, Y/N was back in his arms only seconds later. He devoured her mouth, tasted every drop of her as she moaned and palmed his rock-hard cock through the fabric.

“God, I forget every time how fucking big you are,” Y/N breathed devilishly into his ear and unbuckeled his belt.

“Shit,” Beau panted as her hand crawled inside his boxers.

Not a minute later, she was on her knees in front of him, his pants and underwear pooling around his cowboy boots and his hands caught in her hair, guiding her where he wanted her the most. As her amble lips finally enveloped his thick length, he almost blew his load right then and there. She giggled at his restraint and taunted him even further by brushing her tongue along his throbbing cock, her hand cupping and rolling his balls just the way he liked it.

Goddamn, he had forgotten how good she was at this and how much he truly had missed it.

He decided right there he wouldn’t let another opportunity pass him by. There had been too many over the years, and he knew, soon enough, there would be none left. Y/N was a catch, and he needed to be the guy who caught her before someone else – someone like fucking Ted – got to it.

“Fuck, darlin', don’t stop,” he groaned and closed his eyes as her lips sucked his dick empty.

But Y/N would’ve never dared to stop, loving the way the Sheriff jittered above her and fought tooth and nail to hold out for as long as possible. She loved how much control she had over him, how he bit his lower lip almost bloody, and how his knuckles turned white around the edge of the desk.

“If I let you come down my throat, are you gonna let me in on the case?” Y/N asked and looked up at him, her tongue mischievously teasing his swollen and leaking tip as their gazes met.

“Fuck, yeah…” Beau grunted, having a hard time getting the words out as his nerve endings were electrified. “Already made that decision when you strolled in here, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Surprised, Y/N raised a brow at him, her lips molding around his cockhead before she teasingly retreated again, repeating the torturous action a few more times.

“Shit, yeah… I want you to stay this time,” Beau pressed out through his teeth and harshly squinted his eyes closed.

“Alright,” Y/N replied nonchalantly and smirked up at him. “Thought you’d never ask, Sheriff.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Beau exclaimed louder than he wanted to when her head bobbed up and down his aching length with vigor.

A few more strokes of her sinful tongue, and he spilled hot white ropes of cum down her throat and pantingly watched her swallow every last drop.

Still catching his breath, he helped her back onto her feet like the gentleman he was before the supposedly locked door suddenly burst wide open and a shocked Poppernak blinked at him with even wider eyes, not knowing where to look.

“Uh, sorry, sir! I thought you called!”

Sheriff Arlen then turned the deepest shade of red of his life, this time even visible through his thick beard, hearing Y/N’s amused laugh reverberate in his ringing ears. He was literally caught with his pants down.

And now, Beau was certain he’d never hear the end of it from his deputy.

Hope you enjoyed this one, ladies ✌️

This one-shot serves as a prequel to a series. Read more of this couple here: Polaris 🌌

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @akshi8278 @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373

[anna-hawk]

Caution: contents hot

Shane Walsh x Reader

Summary: A little coffee accident has you meeting Deputy Walsh. Rating: T (for now) // WC: 1,3k Warnings: None, except that it's a totally silly plot 😅. A/N: I wrote this a couple weeks ago, and I might just write the smut to it at some point. I just felt like posting this now, since it ends on a “good” part.

Finally, after standing in line for ages, you made it out of the coffee shop with your precious hot drink in hand and headed straight for your car. You weren’t in any particular hurry, but you’d had a long day at work and wanted to enjoy that drink before driving over to the grocery store. Sitting in an overcrowded coffee shop didn’t appeal to you, however, and that’s why you chose to simply return to your car to relax in peace. 

Arriving at the car, you placed the cup on the roof and rummaged through your purse to find the keys. Meanwhile, a dark pickup pulled into the space next to yours, forcing you closer against your car as you kept searching. After finally locating the damn keys and pulling them out for a second to press the unlock button, you reached for the cup again, intending to open the driver’s door. 

And that’s when everything happened very quickly.

Since you had backed up into the parking space and the pickup had driven into its own spot the other way around, both driver’s sides ended up next to the other. The person in the pickup had just opened the door to get out, while you took a step back as you did the same, only to get inside yours. Except that this step backwards had you tripping over the person’s feet, and in your flailing while you grasped for something to hold on to to stop your fall, you let go of the cup, which went flying back. As you caught yourself on the edge of the half open door of your car, you knew where the contents of your drink had landed from the loud cry of surprise and hiss of pain coming from behind you a second later. 

Letting go of the door after regaining your balance, you whipped around to find a man in a police uniform pulling at his drenched shirt to get the fabric away from his skin. 

“Oh — Oh my God. I'm so sorry… Shit, shit, Shit. I'm so, so sorry, sir. Are — are you — are you okay?” you gasped out, worry and embarrassment making your face burn hot.

“I… kinda. I-” he grunted, before you realized how stupid your question was and kept talking. 

“No, of course you’re not fine. I just poured scalding coffee all over you… I really am so sorry. I-”

“No, yeah, I’m — shit — I'm okay,” he groaned, wincing as he pulled at the fabric over his chest.

“Really? You sure? ‘Cause — you know, you don’t really look —  shit, maybe if-”

Not thinking at all in your panic, you took a step closer to him and quickly undid three of the uniform buttons to pull the shirt away from his skin. 

“We need to see how badly you got burnt, maybe you need-” You suddenly stopped in your frantic rambling and stilled your hands as you realized what you were doing; standing in the man's space, with your hands holding his shirt wide open. 

Letting go of him as if you’d been burnt yourself and springing away from him, you lifted your wide-eyed gaze from the man’s chest and towards his face. Which didn’t help you articulate any words, either, as his features finally hit you. Not only did you shower and burn a police officer with your drink, but you also had to embarrass yourself by almost undressing an incredibly good-looking police officer. 

“I’m… so sorry,” you breathed. “I just…”

To your surprise, the man’s lips slowly pulled up into a smile. It wasn’t a mocking smile, but an amused one, which had you relaxing a tad. 

“It’s okay,” he said gently, tilting his head to one side as he ducked his face slightly to look at you curiously from under his brows. 

Your eyes fell to his chest as he did the same, and you grimaced at the reddening skin. 

“This has to be painful, though,” you mumbled, holding your hand back from reaching out again. 

He uttered a small bark of a laugh and nodded his head from side to side as he opened the shirt the rest of the way. Since your eyes were already on his chest, they instantly took in the rest of his torso without you being able to stop yourself. 

“Uh, yeah, kinda, yeah. But…” He shrugged as he trailed off.

Your eyes snapped back to his face as your neck heated again with another form of embarrassment. 

“I can go into the pharmacy and grab you, like, a cream or salve or something,” you interrupted, desperate to make it better. 

“Nah, it’s fine. I got what I need at home. Thankfully, you hit me just when I was gettin’ off my shift and not on,” he laughed. 

You cringed at the reminder. 

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect to be this close to you and-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, okay? Shit happens.” He put a hand on your arm and leaned in slightly to look you in the eyes with a sincere expression. 

“Still,” you breathed, his proximity making you slow with coming up with a reply. “I’d like to make it up to you.”

At your words, the man’s eyes slid to your lips, which had your eyes going wide again in surprise, since he deliberately brought his eyes back to yours very slowly. 

“You don’t have to,” he assured you in a low tone that had a shiver running down your spine.

“But I want to,” you insisted, swallowing at how his eyes went from your mouth to your eyes again at the statement, this time quickly. “The dry cleaning. Let me pay for it? Can’t be cheap to clean a police uniform, right?” 

The man contemplated you, as you forced yourself not to look at his gorgeous body, the dips of his hips that were visible in your peripherals calling to you. He slowly grinned and took a step towards you, which had you automatically taking a step back and colliding with your back against the side of your car. He put a hand on the roof of your car as he leaned in. 

“If you really wanna make it up to me, then how ‘bout you join me for dinner?”

It took you a second to understand his suggestion. You stared at him, surprised. Was that really happening? Was he coming on to you? Just like that, in the middle of a parking lot? After you'd injured him, no less. And you hadn't even exchanged names. 

“I have one condition,” you found yourself answering to your own shock. 

The man smiled slowly and lifted an expectant eyebrow.

“Shoot.”

“Dinner’s on me.”

He clearly hadn't expected that, since he blinked once before he grinned and began laughing. He leaned in that bit closer, which almost had him in kissing distance. “Deal.”

“Okay… good.”

He didn't move, though, which had your heart racing and your eyes going from his lips to his eyes. When he finally did pull away, he only gave you enough space to get your door open. It was as you stared at him that you saw the name tag dangling from his open shirt. 

“Be at my place in an hour… Deputy Walsh.”

You enjoyed his look of surprise, before he glanced down at the tag with a chuckle.

“Shane,” he revealed, and stared back at you expectantly, but you only got into your car with a small smile.

“The car is registered under my name,” you hinted, as you got the window down to talk to him.

Shane ran his tongue over his front teeth as he watched you with amused interest. It thrilled you to have this attention on you. Not waiting for a reply, you put your car into drive and drove out of the parking space. As you slowly made your way down the aisles of cars, you saw Shane writing something down on a notepad.

[blackseafoam]

Marked Part III

A Bad Batch x Red Dead Redemption crossover AU (with illustrations)

PART 1 - PART 2

Word count: 2002

CW: Stuff you'd normally find in a western story. Swearing, smoking, gun touting, bullet wounds, horse jokes.

“Why do you keep looking over there? The job is as good as done, Arthur.” Javier gestured with his whiskey glass, elbows planted on the bar top.

“Yeah, have a drink. We earned it.” Lenny nodded with his beer.

“Slow down, Summers, remember the last time you came here to ‘wind down’” Javier jabbed, snickering.

“Shut up, Esquella.” Lenny muttered into his glass as he raised it.

Arthur barely noticed the two bickering. His mind elsewhere. There was a nagging feeling those three soldiers weren’t done fighting yet. The energy between those men was almost as if they could talk without speaking. Their expressions clearly showed they were not ready to give up yet. Like an animal in a snare, biting and scratching to its last breath, chewing off its leg to get away if it has to.

He sipped his whiskey but kept one eye dutifully on the front of the Sheriff's office, just in case, even as the sun went down and the warm light of lanterns and candles became the only way to see.

BOOM. Every glass on every table shuddered at once. Lenny choked on his drink.

Dutch’s boys knew the sound of dynamite all too well. Arthur got to his feet and ran outside, closely followed by his inebriated posse.

The side of the sheriff's station was blown wide open, a gaping hole in the wall revealed the inside of the holding cell, and prisoners nowhere to be seen. Arthur cursed, making eye contact with the deputy inside, on the other side of the bars, standing frozen in shock.

“Damn, these guys might be even crazier than us.” Lenny huffed. Javier sighed with frusdration.

“Goddamn. I can’t believe it.” Arthur couldn’t help but sound a little impressed.

Arthur’s attention went to the muddy ground, to the scrambling footprints, four, no, five sets of boots led toward the main road, then disappeared.

“They got on a wagon, come on.” Arthur growled, then turned to get his horse. This bounty was now officially giving them a run for their money.

“Do you think they heard that?” Wrecker laughed as soon as his brothers climbed aboard the wagon. With a flick of the reins they were off as quickly as Murray could pull the full load. Tech, being the designated driver, climbed to the front and took the reins. They headed south out of the town,the opposite direction of their old camp. It almost felt good to get into some action again, almost.

“Where’s Meggy?” Hunter huffed as he took a seat.

“In here!” His seat spoke. Echo huffed a laugh as Hunter stood in shock and opened the crate. The three siblings in the cargo area shared a reunion hug.

“How touching.” Crosshair caught up to the wagon on Havoc, rifle trained to the sky in one hand, reins in the other. The jet black steed’s nostrils flaring with excitement. “Celebrate later, we’re being followed.” He cast a glance over his shoulder.

Three horsemen coming up from behind caught the light of the train station on the edge of town. Barely visible at this distance, but closing fast.

“Did you bring our guns?” Echo began moving the supply crates to barricade the rear of the open wagon.

“In here!” Meggy handed him a saddlebag from the floor.

Echo moved one crate toward the front of the wagon. Hunter motioned Meggy to take cover behind it. “Do not move from this spot until we say so.” He said sternly. Meggy looked at him with eyes wide open, nodding and sitting frozen still. The intensity in his expression taking her aback.

Wrecker loaded his sawn-off shotgun, Echo spun his pistol, and Hunter turned the safety off of his revolver. Tech urged the horse to continue as fast as he dared into the night. He wasn’t familiar with this road but from his vague recollection of maps it was relatively straight.

The first shot rang out, splintering through the back of the driver’s seat. Missing Tech’s hip by inches. Being on the wagon meant their aim would be marginally better than their pursuers at full gallop. Hopefully.

Sure enough, it was their three escorts from earlier that came into view in the moonlight. One of them took another shot, but it went wide. Hunter and Echo returned fire, forcing the bounty hunters to spread out evasively. Meggy watched in horror over the crate, covering her ears and not daring to move a muscle as she crouched in the corner. Her limbs shook with adrenaline.

“We are not going to outrun them, we need a plan!” Tech called over his shoulder.

“No way we’re surrendering!” Wrecker bit out as he rolled into the back to take cover.

“I have an idea.” Tech gritted his teeth and veered the wagon onto the train tracks.

“TE-ECH, what are you do-oing!?” Echo yelled, the seriousness in his tone cut by his jostling voice. The wagon wheels bumped violently as they rolled over the railroad ties.

“Blackwater!” Is all he said in response.

Echo didn’t have time to ask more questions, as more shots rang out. A shot went straight through Hunter’s side, and into the crate protecting Meggy.

Hunter staggered, Echo noticed. “Hunter’s hit!” He announced. Hunter was still firing after he stumbled to his knees, Wrecker stowed his shotgun went to his brother’s aid. His close-range weapon wasn’t much help in the firefight anyway.

“We still need more distance!” Crosshair spat, his expression steeling as he thought. He knew that as soon as their enemies caught up with the wagon, it was all over. And they were getting uncomfortably close by the second.

The massive railroad bridge that was Bard’s Crossing stretched high over the yawning mouth of the Dakota River before it spanned out into Flat Iron Lake. Tech was leading them straight for it, an absolute madman, but probably one of the only people who could pull it off. Crosshair couldn’t help but smirk at his brother, the lunacy of the situation.

In that moment, Crosshair realized what he needed to do. He slowed Havoc to a canter. The stallion grunted, wanting to stay with his herd.

“Crosshair, what are you doing?!” Wrecker called out, crouched over Hunter, trying to staunch the hole in his side.

“Buying time.” Crosshair said, releasing the reins to cock his rifle. Using his seat to further slow his horse.

“This isn’t part of the plan!” Tech started to slow Murray.

“Too bad, it is now. GO! I’ll meet you in Blackwater.”

Tech nodded reluctantly, and urged Marauder back up to speed.

“This is not good, we shouldn’t split up!” Echo lowered his pistol, watching Crosshair and Havoc disappear into the darkness. “Running off to be the hero never works Crosshair!” He futilely called after his brother.

After the bridge, Tech steered the wagon back onto the road uncomfortably close to an oncoming train, thankfully still going slow as it left the nearby station. He cast an apologetic wave at the conductor who was visibly angry. They pulled the wagon over as soon as possible, Tech held up the driver’s lantern to check on Hunter. “How bad?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“A little worse than a graze, but I don’t think it hit anything important.” Wrecker reported.

“I’d… beg to differ, Wrecker. Feels pretty important.” Hunter huffed a small laugh which became a groan.

Echo rummaged through the kitchen crate for a whiskey bottle. Handing it to Hunter, who took a long swig before returning it. His face scrunching in anticipation before Echo splashed the stinging liquid onto the wound.

Tech finished by cleaning and staunching the wound with fabric from their triage kit, leftover from the war. They hadn’t had much use of it since then. After the train went by they were left in hanging silence. The tension began to abate, though worry about Crosshair still hung in the air. Wrecker looked out toward the bridge as if he could see his brother through the darkness if he tried hard enough.

Echo turned toward Meggy, still cowering in the corner of the wagon. Still doing exactly as Hunter instructed, staying put. Her face was lined with horror and her eyes were wet, as she hugged her still shaking legs.

“Hey, hey Meggy. We’re okay.” Echo went to her side. She glanced at him, then looked back toward Hunter and Tech. “Here, uh, come sit up here.” He took her elbow. The poor girl looked shell-shocked as if she were the one who’d been through a war. She took his offer to get up off the floor and sit on a crate with him, still shivering.

Crosshair halted Havoc, still on the bridge. He could already hear the hoofbeats of his pursuers pounding on the wooden struts. He deftly uncaulked his rifle and stowed it in the saddle as he slid off. Walking several paces toward the enemy, he raised his hands toward the stars above.

The gang got on their way again. “The closer we are to Blackwater, the safer we’ll be.” Tech assured, steering Murray to ford a shallow creek, letting the loyal beast take a long drink of water before continuing on.

“Why’s that?” Hunter croaked, taking another swig of whisky while trying to get comfortable against a sideways barrel close to Meggy’s seat.

“A few weeks ago the Van der Linde gang were here, and… left quite the mess.” Tech snapped the reins and Murray continued at a walk. “The gang robbed the Blackwater ferry. $150,000, according to the paper.” He added.

Wrecker whistled in amazement. “That’s a lot of cash…”

“It was a bloody affair, the Pinkertons got involved.”

“We should probably stay far enough away from the town if there are feds about, not to mention in case Meg–, I mean our wanted posters have made it out here.” Echo pointed out, casting a glance at Meggy beside him, still as a statue with Echo’s jacket draped over her shoulders. Hunter looking at her with concern, despite being the only one bleeding.

“Meggy, are you okay?” Hunter put the bottle to the side and reached out to her, wincing as the motion tugged painfully.

“She’s not hurt...” Echo pondered. “I think she’s scared, but she hasn’t said anything.”

“I’m okay.” Meggy nodded, and a tear ran down her face. She wiped it quickly, hoping no one saw.

Her brothers continued to console her as the wagon continued into the dark.

Arthur, Javier and Lenny rode up on the lone dark-clad outlaw with guns drawn.

“You’re coming with us.” Lenny spat, leveling his pistol.

“I would like to come to an arrangement.” Crosshair called out. “I have… a proposition.”

Lenny and Javier looked at Arthur, who raised his chin in interest. “Let’s talk somewhere we aren’t about to get crushed by a train.” He responded after a beat of consideration. Crosshair spun around and saw the light of an engine appearing on the other end of the bridge, when he turned back around Dutch’s boys were trotting back to solid ground. Crosshair mounted up and followed.

“You sure this is a good idea, Morgan?” Javier chided.

“Let’s hear him out. It’s our only option now.” Arthur cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction of Blackwater.

Between two prairie hills just outside Blackwater, the Bad Batch gang had settled in for the night, huddled against the wagon with a small campfire. Coyotes yapped nearby, and the crickets added to the chorus with their own nighttime song. Meggy laid on her bedroll between Hunter and Wrecker. Tech took the first watch after he untacked Marauder and brushed him. All five of them were silent with worry since the wagon wheels stopped. Every little sound had Tech looking up from what he was doing, hoping it was Crosshair catching up with them. Wrecker took the next watch, then Echo. Meggy and Hunter were allowed to sleep off the ordeal. The night slid by with no sign of their absent brother.

Taglist: @dragonrider9905 @omegafett99 @griffedeloup @happydragon @fionas-frenzy @dizzy-9906

Author's note:

"It didn't hit nothin' important!!" That scene from the Ballad of Buster Scruggs kept playing in my head while I wrote this. I might add some more illustrations to this later, cuz I still have some ideas, but for now I just wanted to get this OUT THERE. I've completed a rough outline of the whole story at this point, and I'm so excited for the stuff at the climax. I have no idea how many chapters this will be but I'm trying to keep each one around 1.5 - 3k words.

I am so grateful for the positive feedback on the first two chapters thank y’all so much! I am certainly not the most experienced writer, and have been kind of hard on myself with this chapter, but had to keep remembering that this is all just for fun and doesn’t have to be perfect.

[allbark-no-bite]

past the texas line.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.4k)

summary: the past comes back to haunt him when Jake gets word that your ex boyfriend is back in town. he makes a trip back home to ensure it stays buried.

warnings: mentions of death and blood, swearing

author’s note: this is a little different than what I usually write, but I was feeling inspired by Zach Bryan’s “Crooked Teeth”. definitely recommend giving it a listen before reading!

————————————————————————

He doesn't remember it being so hot.

Jake wipes his perspiring hand off on the back of his jeans after handing a crumbled wad of bills over to the cashier. Sweat rolls down his neck and causes his cotton shirt to stick to his back as he waits for her to unstick them from each other. Her expression says she's got better things to do than count out his damp dollar bills. He wants to tell her that it's more than enough and she can keep the change, that he pocketed just enough cash for two fill-ups and a motel stay to make the drive.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his eyes when he makes it out of the store, boots treading heavy in the dust. The bell chimes out after him, as though chastising him for leaving in such a hurry. Jake doesn't glance back, afraid that if he does, door of the beat up patrol car parked permanently out front will open and the sheriff will stare at him through his dark sunglasses and say, "Don't I know you, son?"

"Where you headed, son?"

Normally in this kind of situation, Jake would lay on the proper southern manners his mama taught him, answer him with a "Yes sir, I grew up a few mile form here" and then,  "No sir, I ain't been drinkin'," and then shake his hand and leave him with a "Thank you, sir. Have a good night." But not tonight.

Jake turns his head away, green eyes squinting as though to avoid the beam of the flashlight—he purposely dips his head down so that the shadow of his hat conceals most of his face. No one comes this far out of town without a reason. By openly showing his face around here, Jake might as well hand him a wanted poster with his name on it.

The tarp in his truck bed flaps persistently in the wind. Jake inconspicuously eyes it through his dusty side view mirror. He can make out nothing but blackness underneath it.

"Camping out by the river for a night."

The sheriff's face remains stoic. He's still shining the flashlight into the truck. "The river?" he asks, sounding suspect about the answer. "Come an awful long away out of town to camp, huh son?"

"Used to go up there with my old man," Jake supplies. It's a another lie. He's only come this way once before and only ever seen the river in passing. He doesn't have to have been to know why people go through the trouble of making the trip out there—why there's nothing alive out there for miles.

Its current is strong enough to drown a man and deep enough to swallow a herd of crossing cattle under its muddy surface, never to be seen again. No one's going to bother to check for a body, not when there's an all too likely possibility of finding more than one.

The deputy sizes up Jake for another moment before seemingly deciding there's not much else he can do to harass him. The kid's license had checked out, there was nothing outstanding on his record, not even a damn speeding ticket—he wasn't surprised to find that he was enlisted in the service, his type usually was.

"Well son," he begins patronizingly. Jake fights the urge to roll his eyes. He's getting the sense that this guy is hankering for a reason to write him a citation. "I don't wanna see you back around here. Understand?"

"Yessir." This time he means it. He has no intention to come back.

Body rigid, hair standing up on the back of his neck, Jake slams the door shut on his pickup and jams the key in, twisting hard as the engine roars to life. He doesn't look back until just before the cruiser fades into the dust in his rear view mirror.

It takes him two days to get down past the Texas line. Jake knows the state like the back of his hand, it's home after all, but crossing back into no man's land causes something dark to settle into his bones. He had buried this place and it's memory a long time ago.

Of course, Jake is smarter than to think that burying something will make it cease to exist. Literally, yes, but figuratively, no. It's only a temporary fix to a problem—a problem that was now coming back to haunt him.

"Buxton's back in town."

The statement had sent him in a cold sweat from across the bar.

He pauses mid conversation, lowering his second beer of the night from his lips. The music is loud and the patrons of the Hard Deck louder, but the men aren't exactly speaking quietly either.

"You sure it was him? Thought he got into some trouble and skipped town?"

"Got into some trouble alright. Can't hardly tell what part of him to look at, he's so fucked up. Looks like someone finally laid into him."

Jake's breathing halts, and although it goes unnoticed by the people around him, his body stills.

"You think so?"

"Dunno, he won't say."

He's straining to hear the exchange between to two men, so lost in the conversation that he doesn't notice you looking at him in concern. "Jake?" Your hand ghosts up his knee to squeeze his muscular thigh.

The sight of your face, delicate brows furrowed in worry, eyes searching—always searching—reminds him to breathe. "Hmm?" he hums, rough hands tugging you into his lap to cover up his pervious distraction. You see right through him—you always do.

"You're distracted," you point out, but the resolve has left your voice now that he's holding you close, lips pressed to your temple. Jake's large hands smooth over your waist, holding you securely to his lap so that he can nuzzle into your neck.

"Distracted by you," he replies while closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath of your scent—safe is the best way he can describe it, home if you asked him to be more specific.

"Jake Michael," you warn, but make no move to stop him. Maybe if your friends had been watching you would have, but they've moved across the bar to watch Phoenix school Rooster at the pool table.

Jake just smiles warmly, relived that you have let the previous conversation drop. He's already planning a way to slip off to Texas for a few days, but for now, he sits back and indulges in the remainder of the evening knowing that you're safe in his arms.

It's strange seeing the land in the daylight. Jake remembers the way all the same. He does suppose that not much change happens to a desert in ten years.

He's been staring at the barren desert horizon through his windshield for close to two hours, watching the heat waves melt off the hood of his truck. He'd seen a mangey looking coyote trot across the road a few miles back, but for the most part there was nothing alive for miles.

Jake pulls off of the desolate road and slows his truck to a stop half a mile from the river. On the off chance that someone finds it, they'll assume it's broke down and pass it by. Stepping out of his truck, he fixes his hat on his head and starts walking.

Every step feels like deja vu.

The heat is almost unbearable, even in the evening. He had hoped by the time he made it this far, the sun would be low enough in the sky for the coolness of night to begin setting in.

San Diego was a culture shock when he was first stationed. He had been terribly homesick and had every intention to move back home eventually. That was until he met you. You and your love for the coast, and an even stronger love for your friends. The Dagger Squad was like family, and Jake came to appreciate your unwillingness to move away from them.

Jake knew he was going to marry you when he met you that first night at Hard Deck, but you didn't always see things that way. It wasn't that you didn't like Jake, really it was the exact opposite. The two of you were attached at the hip—thick as thieves—which is why you never even considered that Jake was interested in something far more than just being friends.

Jake hated your boyfriend. He hated him from the moment he met him, all thick mustache and slick, no-good, easy grin. The devil dressed in a polo and khakis. And he was right to hate him. Jake can count on two fingers the number of times he's seen you cry; both are because of your boyfriend.

The first time he calls you a bitch. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't have even blinked at the name. Maybe you would have even laughed in his face. The insult in and of itself means nothing to you. After fighting your way into the Top Gun program, you practically brandished the name with brusque pride. This was more than just an insult.

Jake didn't catch the whole exchange, and you refused to tell him what had happened to lead up to the situation, but he knows that you hadn't wanted him to witness it in the first place.

"Hey, what's going on here?"

Your head jerks towards the sound of Jake's voice, and you abruptly step forward as to shoulder past your boyfriend, who shifts reluctantly to let you away from the wall. Your eyes are red, and while he can tell that you're trying not to let it show, your voice is shaking.

"Nothing," you say all too quickly, hardly meeting his eye as you step around both of them. Your boyfriend stands there silently, watching the exchange with a self satisfied look on his smug face, as if daring you to say anything to Jake.

Jake ignores him and instead focuses his attention on you. "Hey—[y/n]," he tries, reaching out to stop you, but you dodge his outstretched hand.

"Let it go, Jake," you order, fixing him with a look that means business; you've always been too good at taking care of yourself. And then you walk off to join the rest of your friends at the bar, rubbing away the wounded look away from your eyes as you go.

The second time is after you've broken up with him. It's actually months after you've broken up with him. You had finally come to your senses after realizing that it was causing a rift between you and your friends.

He grabbed you one night at Hard Deck, wrapped his hand around your bicep hard enough to bruise and whispered something filthy into you ear. Jake knew because of the way your eyes darkened with disgust and your lip curled. He had to fight the urge to spring to your rescue—you were a big girl and could take care of yourself. To your credit, you stood your ground, kept it together until he released you and you could turn away, tears burning in the back of your eyes.

There is no third time.

Jake's standing up from the bar before he even knows what he's doing. Doesn't really know what his intentions are as he follows your boyfriend out of the door—ex boyfriend. But his head is clear as his boots carry him out to the parking lot, crunching the gravel underfoot as he passes his pickup parked out front.

The image of your face, red and splotchy with tears flashes through his mind. He grabs a metal fencepost out of the truck bed. The parking lot is silent besides the heavy crunch on his boots on the gravel and the blood roaring in his ears.

He finds the bastard leaning drunkenly against the side of his truck, the glass of a smashed beer bottle at his feet and another in his hand. He's too buzzed to hear Jake heading towards him. Without stopping to consider his options, Jake lifts the metal rod and swings like he's up to bat and the bases are loaded.

A crack echos through the parking lot.

The fence post catches him in the jaw and sends him sprawling to the floor.

Jake doesn't remember much after that, just that there was a lot of blood—on his clothes, in the parking lot, in his truck. The rest of the night was a frantic blur of adrenaline spurred moment.

A gathered flock of buzzards caw at him with an surprising amount of gall as he approaches the river bank, flapping their black wings powerfully. They scatter only out of irritation before making a brave advance back towards their original post.

Jake takes a wide berth around them. The deeper you get into Texas, the scarier the wildlife becomes. He would rather not know what they're feeding on. He has a feeling they might start eyeing him next if he disturbs them again.

The spot he is looking for is a couple yards past. Thistles are growing up around the fence post. If he hadn't marked the spot, he probably would have walked right past it. It had been pitch black the last time, but as he stands looking over the area, it starts to come back all too clearly to him.

He remembers the sweat rolling down his body despite the chill of the night, the ache in his shoulders from digging—with no moisture to soften the ground, it was like chipping away at concrete. He doesn't remember being scared, not like when his engines failed and his parachute didn't open, just angry and fueled by adrenaline.

Jake looks over his shoulder, back at the road where his truck is parked, then back to the river. The fence post stands there, overgrown by thistles and time.

He's still not scared.

"You're back," comes the barley audible mumble as Jake crawls into bed, curling his body around yours. The bedsheets are cool and your barley clothed body is radiating warmth. After you both resettle, legs intertwined, Jake’s nose tucked into the crevice of your neck, you lapse into comfortable silence. For a moment, Jake thinks you’ve already fallen back asleep.

“Where’d you go?” comes your quite voice.

His sigh is heavy. You don’t press him.

Staring into the darkness of the bedroom, Jake considers lying to you. Isn’t that what he’s been doing all this time? He’s sure you have your assumptions. You’re too smart not to. He pulls you closer into his body, his large hand coming to rest on your heart.

“Texas.”

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 16

wordcount: 8,613

(Yeah, don't listen to me when I say I'll update soon; I'm a giant fuckin liar. Srry oops ♡)

   It was the next evening in Woodsboro. Barely a day after the tragedy that hit this town once again for the first time since the 90's. Dewey had to make a press statement as Sheriff and or the one in charge of the case. In a 24 hour period, on top of the killings that already took place, he had to state the victim's of this senseless brutality. 6 victims dead in the last 24 hours, 1 suspect dead and multiple injured…And 3 suspects missing.

After stating the victims names outside the hospital…He warily looked up a few times in case of…Well. In case of freaking falling corpses like what happened with YN's publicists a few short days ago. He then gave the conclusion of his speech to wrap up this chaos that seemed to never end. Anxiety biting at him. Feeling like a young boy displaying a D minus grade card in front of the whole class…

He subtly licked his lips a bit and swallowed hard as he tried to think. His mouth was incredibly dry all the sudden as he tried to force out what needed to be said to make his town feel reassured.

 “...Citizen's of Woodsboro...This was a senseless and awful tragedy. The threat is under control-”

The press yelled out mid sentence, “Sheriff Riley! But it took how many lives to get it under control? Why didn't the police act sooner?” 

Dewey fumbled, a tight expression on his face as he spoke into the mic, “Our deputies tried tirelessly and it took us longer than we expected. It's not easy trying to find someone in a mask-” 

“Why was a party allowed last night where one person was found dead?” Someone else demanded.

“He was…The victim was killed after and we…We didn't know of the party or we'd shut it down! Obviously just-” He stammered and tried to calm himself. 

Dewey was still reeling. Anytime he thought of that party; he'd forever see the dead lifeless eyes of Randy's corpse. He spaced out a moment with all the questions, all the accusations. Judy and a few others looked at him to give an answer to the overbearing crowd. 

He rolled his teeth over his bottom lip and decided to just cut the crap and say what he needed. Because this was too much. It was all too damn much. He didn't even get the courtesy of mourning Randy's death and YN's betrayal without being strong for the entire World.

He spoke up again. Ignoring the questions to cut to the chase.

“Young kids with their entire lives ahead of them died this week. Good hardworking men just trying to provide for their families. Just trying to make a life for themselves and their loved ones. All 3 very good friends of mine.” A hushed whisper sounded in the microphone as Dewey's face scrunched thinking of his two detectives and Randy. “A woman that…” He faltered, gazing at the hospital behind him and gestured with his hand. “...Whose body was thrown onto a news van right here.” 

His voice caught a bit of tense anger as he pointed his finger at the podium while speaking. “Even my own wife, Gale Riley formerly Gale Weathers, was stabbed in the shoulder last night. All of this…It…” He got tongue tied once more before taking a deep breath. A fine line between showing strength and being pitiful he had a hard time treading right now. 

All eyes on him as he could feel the heat from the lights and see his reflection in cameras. 

He looked at the crowd to let it sink in with a pause to catch his bearings. Only the mic ringing from being too close to it, sounded along with cameras clicking.

 “...As your Sheriff, I took this job under oath to make sure that 1996 never happened in this town again. It may have happened at Windsor College in Ohio or in Hollywood but not here in our quiet and peacefully small California town.” He paused, gazing at the crowd. Tired. Dark downset eyes cast heavily at all the microphones and lights. At the cameras recording his every move. His every failure. All he ever wanted was to protect the innocent and in his eyes he failed miserably.

He took a breath and took off his hat. “Which is why… I'm resigning as Sheriff. I take full responsibility for my department's failure in stopping this before it became too late. That's not on my deputies but on me. Their lives are on my hands and I can't express enough remorse.” 

Chatter erupted as so many reporters badgered to ask questions. Judy's jaw dropped. Her standing by having recovered from her vest protecting her this morning. She looked flabbergasted at his resignation as well as a few other deputies.  

He descended off the small makeshift stage near the podium. 

So many voices. A man yelling, “Sheriff Riley! Why are you resigning? Do you think your actions killed those kids?” 

“Because it's time for someone else to take over. Someone new.” Was all Dewey gave as he tried to make his way to the hospital doors. 

“Sheriff Riley! Sheriff! Can you give out the name's of the suspects and give a final statement on their identities? Are they apprehended or deceased?” A female reporter pressed as he got

“Not at this time we can't make a statement. But they are under control.” He tried shoving past as Judy and a few others forced the vulture media back. 

He heard a woman ask, “Where's YN!? Sheriff Riley, is YN alive?” 

He froze at the door…

Of course they'd ask. YN was an American icon. You couldn't see the mask without the survivor who seemed to be attacked every time. Her name is always gracing the headlines. Her book on survival was a New York Times Best Seller last year. Of course, with everyone else accounted for, they were dying to know where the IT girl was? Where was the final girl? Where was YN? 

And Dewey couldn't answer. Not right now, as he shoved through the hospital doors while Judy and a few other deputies held the media back. All before Judy ran after the man she worshiped once fully inside.

“Sheriff!” She called out, her feet thudding in the quiet hospital hallway. “Sheriff, wait-” 

Dewey stopped and turned to give her a sad smile, holding his hat in his hands. “It's just Dewey now, Deputy.”

He felt like a kicked puppy. A small child. A weak man. Standing there forcing a smile while his chest ached and he rang his hat in his hands. 

Judy spiraled. Big eyes buggier in appearance and mouth open trying to find excuses.

 “This wasn't your fault! If Gal- Mrs. Riley, had followed police protocol an-and Mr. Meeks and Miss YN would have had more faith in you and-” She rushed out in a stammer. Trying to reason with him. But his mind was made up.

“Listen…” He softly gave. His dark eyes softened as well matching his tone. “It is. Randy and…They were right. Gale was right. There were so many mistakes I made that could've saved a lot more people had I not been so darn eager to follow the books.” 

“The books are in place for a reason. They save lives.” She furiously shook her head, thin blonde brows scrunched in distress. “You can't resign! You can't; Woodsboro needs you. We need you…I need you.” 

“No.” Dewey sighed and kept that smile of resignation. “No. You don't Judy. You're one of the best officers I've had the pleasure of working with. In fact, it won't shock me if you become Sheriff one day.” 

“Sheriff…” She looked touched. “But Sheriff Riley-” 

“Ah, it's Dewey please.” He corrected her with a warm oblivious smile.

“Dewey…” She said his name with sincere fondness. Inching closer as her small stature looked up at him. “I…You were, are, the best Sheriff. The best boss. A good friend and…I can't help feeling…Well more…” 

“...More?” Dewey raised a brow. “Like family?”

“No like…Like you deserve better.” She got even closer. “Like, if you and I are apart I'd feel like the world isn't right. I care about you…I just wish Gale and others treated you the way you deserve.” She whispered just getting closer standing on her toes.

“Well, I care about you too, Judy. You're a very good friend.” He gave in a much more casual tone than she did. 

He just thought she was a bright eyed young woman looking for a big brother figure. He always thought Gale was overreacting when she got jealous. 

"Wes is…Wes admires you. He loves when you drive him around in the police car sometimes.” 

Dewey smirked, “Yeah, he's a good boy. Gonna be just like his Mom one day.” 

“But what if he could have someone more…Masculine to look up to? A man around the house. A father figure.” 

Dewey looked confused where she was going but mumbled, “Well, that would be a good idea. A boy needs his Dad and all... Well, or a Dad.” 

“Exactly…” She gazed at him in a way that it seemed his brain was finally clicking wasn't appropriate. “And what if…” She softened her voice. “That father figure could be someone he already knows?” 

She leaned up, her lips going in as Dewey looked down with a confused look.

 For the first time he was taken aback at her display. “Deputy Judy?” He gasped out and stepped away out of reflex.

“Dewey!” 

Gale's voice rang out down the hall. Judy stepped back with a blush and Dewey instinctively took 2 more steps away just to be safe. 

“Gale! What are you doing?” Dewey cleared his throat and quickly asked. “You should be in bed.” He commented seeing his injured wife in fashionable attire and heels instead of a hospital gown with her injured shoulder. 

“I'm free to go. Even if I'm not, I'm not staying in a hospital just laying in bed for a shoulder wound. I can do that at home.” She waved him off.

Gale gave an annoyed look at Judy as Judy's flushed face soured at the other female. Gale raised a brow and demanded, “You mind giving me space with my husband, Deputy.” More rhetorical than an actual question.

Judy scowled before looking at Dewey, “Take care, Dewey. I'll make sure everything is in order.” 

Judy marched off and Gale raised a brow, “The hell was that?” 

“N-Nothing.” Dewey mumbled with his eyes downcast; unsure how to tell his wife he was no longer Sheriff.  Judy's odd attempt was the least of his concerns. 

“Whatever.” Gale mumbled and urgently tried to tell her husband, “Look, I just got off the phone with Karla. She said she talked to YN, so if you just track-” 

“...Gale.” Dewey tried saying but as she kept talking he sighed and subtly rolled his tense shoulders.

She continued, “- And if we get to actually talk to YN, we can find out just how involved she was and get to ‘you know who’. Both of them. I can also prove to you that-” 

“Gale.” He interrupted his wife. “I'm not Sheriff. This isn't my problem anymore.” 

…

At first Gale took it as a joke. Her head reeling back with that bewildered smirk before it slowly fell. “What?...Dewey, what? Whaddya mean you're not Sheriff!?” 

“Shh!” Dewey gently took her arm to go towards her room that she technically was not discharged from yet for some much needed privacy. Just a few doors away down the hall.

“Answer me, Dewey! You resigned? What the hell for?” She demanded not even all the way in the room yet.

“Because I failed, Gale.” He firmly replied. “I failed. I failed you, I failed Randy, I failed YN-” 

Gale rolled her eyes, “YN failed us.” 

Dewey didn't even argue with that. Eyes downcast with a deep frown. 

And for a hot minute. Dewey tried not to be too emotional near her today but he knew that his wife knew how much your betrayal killed him. In fact, this morning he went and sobbed violently in his police cruiser after staring numbly at the parking lot. Crying as much as he did when Tatum died. In a way, losing you was like losing another sister. He wasn't as close to you as Tatum, God no. Of course not. He didn't help raise you like he did her but damn…Did it still hurt.

She sighed, trying to find patience.

“...Dewey. I just think you're jumping the gun.” She looked about and gave a hissed whisper, “For fucksake. Billy Loomis and Stu Macher are alive and free. YN knew they were and is with them somewhere. Even if she isn't helping them, then she's in danger. This is not the time to hang up the badge!” 

“Well it is for me.” He walked away from her to stand near the bed. “...I can't do it, Gale. It's gonna be hard to face anyone. To face Karla and Mindy and Chad and my Detective and Deputies family's…Jill.” 

“Pfft.” Gale blew air past her lips with an eye roll. 

Dewey raised his head, confused and offended. “What?” 

“...Doesn't make sense.” 

 “I know but we'll catch them. I shouldn't have let them go. I failed-” 

“No, damn it!... Jill.” Gale lowered her voice.

Dewey looked bewildered, “What about Jill?” 

Gale looked about, then whispered. “Let's just say, I don't think YN is telling the full story and neither is Jill Roberts.”

“Excuse me??” Dewey looked at his wife like she was crazy! Sweet Jill? What could she possibly be hiding? 

“She's lying, Dewey.” She reaffirmed. “They're both lying about different things…But just because YN was lying her ass off does not mean she was lying about Jill. Broken clock is right twice a day and all that.”

“Oh Gale! Are you seriously after another scoop? What? Like YN all over again. Going after a girl so much younger-” 

“And I was right about YN, wasn't I?!” Gale sauntered towards him angrily, “I have been in this line of work longer than you've been on the force, I was doing this when you were hitting puberty, and I can smell bullshit a mile away…Jill is a fucking liar.”

Dewey stuttered with an outraged glare, “That's!-... It's...Prove it, then. What makes you think Jill who was never even on Randy's suspect list could do something so awful.” He folded his arms raising a brow to try and look smug and sure of himself but it wasn't working very well.

She pointed to her phone in her notes app. “Times are not adding up, Dewey. How convenient Jill went to Kirby's when her Mom was murdered.” 

 “I can't believe you right now, that-” 

She glared at him with those icy blue eyes a foot from him. “Listen to me, damn it.” She practically growled through gritted teeth. “Jill called Kirby less than an hour before Kirby left her house; right? Kirby goes to the party for roughly 2 hours before Randy gets killed and the party is over. Jill is supposed to be grounded. She goes to Kirby's while Mrs. Roberts is murdered in front of Judy AFTER Perkins and Hoss are killed.” 

Dewey's expression soured at the thought. “Yeah, after Judy drops off YN, confiscates her gun and YN drove off during Mrs. Roberts murder…Guilt and evading probably. Especially if her buddies did it and…Randy.” He couldn't say their names without raging. Just couldn't.

Gale snapped her fingers. “Hey, you're not focusing on the right thing.” She pointed to her screen, “Look at the time frame…Where the fuck was Jill?” 

“She went to Kirby's.” 

“... When? Because if the timeline matches up; Kirby was still at the party when Perkins and Hoss were murdered. According to Jill; Kirby opened the door for her…Now, how the fuck is that possible unless Jill was at the house way sooner than she claims?” 

“A key?” 

Gale gave her husband a look, “Then that mean she's lyyyiinnggg.” She mocked with a ‘duh' expression. She urgently continued, “Kirby could not have opened the door for her AND her avoid the murders unless she was there for a long time. Mrs. Robert's acted like Jill was in her room…So how do we know she wasn't still at home? Now, if she was hiding from the killer, Judy and back up would've found her. She would've ran to them for help. She wouldn't have casually went to her fucking friends house near midnight after cops were killed and there was no way she could've drove by and not seen Perkins body…Unless…She was hiding from cops and fleeing the scene after she slit her own Mother's throat.” 

“Jesus Christ, Gale!” Dewey scoffed and paced the room, “That's insane! Do you even hear yourself? Are you…Are you suggesting Jill did this? Not Billy and Stu or Charlie but Jill?? That she killed her own mother!?” 

“Be quieter, would you?...Why not?” Gale demanded. She lowered her voice, almost pleading with him. “Dewey, you know as well as I do we both don't trust YN after last night. Okay? No shit. We don't. But YN's times add up against the killer unless she really was working with those guys…Okay, give you that. Or they did recruit Charlie. Fine, got it…But eyewitnesses saw Jill and Charlie getting hot and heavy near a park while she was supposed to be on again and off again with Trevor.” 

“How do you even know that?? And that's a breach of privacy on a teen girl's romantic life!” 

Gale shrugged the best she could with one shoulder, “I have my sources. It's teens; they talk. Besides, there is no privacy when you could be making out with a murderer…Charlie seemed to have a giant crush on Kirby but how convenient Trevor, Jill's ex, got by far the worst end of the shitty stick.” 

He grimaced, “...Like James in 1996.” 

“Uh huh.” Gale agreed. “We get it. They were recreating kills. But…Why James? Jealousy? From who? Charlie?...Jill? Why was Trevor assigned James' role? All roles add up so why him?” 

Dewey raised a brow. “To…Well…He was Jill's boyfriend? But…” 

“Yeah. Jill was the survivor…How would they know that?” 

Dewey stared. 

“Not only did Jill hold animosity towards him for cheating according to everyone but one of the girls first killed was supposedly his fling…And most of all…The implication."

"Implication?"

Gale grinned in excitement at him, "Jill was always meant to be YN! Not Kirby or YN herself. Jill. Jill survived because she was planning to fucking survive! Why the flying fucking Hell would she be spared by Billy and Stu?” 

“But she was barely conscious when we arrived on scene!” Dewey's head was spinning but he just couldn't quite believe what his wife was suggesting. It was diabolical! “S-she wasn't. They tried to kill her here in the hospital…” He quietly mumbled. His brain went in a direction he didn't like.

Gale ranted, “All their friend group, and somehow, in a house with two known murderers Jill got the least amount of damage other than YN and Kirby. We can't even count that because they got life threatening injuries while Jill and I got stabbed in the shoulder and roughed up…Why? To keep me alive to write a story and her too. Jill got banged up but nothing serious. Nothing that would kill her.” 

“But!...I-” He went to talk but faltered.

“Charlie got stabbed only one time directly in the chest. In a relaxed position to stab his heart. People fighting don't get stabbed like that! Dewey, you're an officer, you know that in order for Charlie to get that stab wound he had to be relaxed. Like…It was planned and either he let them stab him or he was betrayed and relaxed.”

Dewey opened and closed his mouth. Damn, he knew his wife got to the pit of a story but lord this was…

”Gale, then…Then that just means Billy and Stu betrayed their protégé! Right?...Right!?” He desperately pleaded, not wanting to go where Gale's mind was heading because it felt so far fetched to him.

Gale gnawed at her lip. She walked about the room a moment before lowering her voice and mumbling out. “I know it sounds insane but think about it. YN and those two assholes got just about hacked up yet they were the murderers? No fucking way knowing what we know; how did Jill fight off 3 people as a victim? 2 grown men and a grown woman with self defense training. If Jill was unarmed; How? How does a 5'2 teen girl with no weapon fight 2 grown men that were trying to kill her and they supposedly had knives and a gun?…There's no goddamn way, Dewey!” Gale smacked her phone on the bed getting riled up just talking about this.

Dewey swallowed and couldn't exactly come up with an argument.

Gale just paced the room, her heels clacking as she continued. “YN was miraculous enough to keep surviving these attacks over the years UNLESS…” Her face lit up in realization. “Son of a bitch…Unless she had help all these years. Oh my fucking God. I knew it! James and Tim. They don't fucking exist, they're just aliases for Billy and Stu. Windsor I saw them and fucking knew it, god damn it, I did! I bet they were in Hollywood too. It's how she survived two huge men attacking her.” Gale ranted in harsh whispers; almost elated as her brain was piecing things together perfectly to her.

Dewey had the picture of YN and them. Men that were strangers but now he realized was evidence of Billy and Stu. A lie he kept from his wife he didn't dare share now. He ran a hand over his face…It was too much. It was all speculation. It was…It was crazy! YN and Billy and Stu were what?? The victims? And Jill killed her own mother?! 

He replayed it…Billy and Stu not being the murderers this time. You lying is a misunderstanding for hiding them. Charlie and Jill being the real killers…Jill. Killing all her friends. Her own mother. Trying to kill YN alone it just-

“...No.” 

Gale scoffed with a sneer, “No??” 

“No. There's no way! No way Jill is in any way involved.” 

 “Are you joking?” Gale put her hand of her good arm on her hip, wincing when she moved. “Okay, but why would Jill know where I was stabbed when we hadn't seen each other or talked?...How Dewey? Explain that.” 

Dewey shook his head at the idea that the sweet teen girl he already felt protective over could do this instead of two known murderers. And YN, who he couldn't trust now. Gale just looked more irritated at his dismissal as she continued.

“Why the fuck was she visiting YN at 4:32 in the morning in fucking ICU, Dewey!? Seriously. They aren't that close and Jill was supposed to be just so weak and heavily injured. Get a goddamn grip!” 

“So what?” He threw his hands out. “You're defending YN now after all these years of damning her? All these years of being so-so…So…Hateful to her and now you're changing your tune?!” He spoke a bit louder than necessary and stammered his accusations.

Gale argued with a haughty look. “No…Maybe!” She released a frustrated groan. “I damned her for lying, which I was right, but I am a facts and getting the truth out sort of journalist before anything else and Jill's story has so many holes it's like a screen door! YN was yelling at us, begging us this morning to listen to her side-” 

“And why should we!?” Dewey uncharacteristically lost his temper as Gale blinked in surprise. “She lied to us, Gale! She lied for over a decade! Made you look like a bad journalist, knew my sister's murderers were alive, defended them last night!” He was overstimulated, heartbroken, stressed, bombarded with too much information.

Gale rubbed her temple as a tense silence fell over the couple in the empty hospital room. She sucked air through her nose and told him. “Look…I am not team YN right now either. She lied, I was right. As usual…But that's even more of a reason to listen to me when I say Jill is not normal and we need to wrangle YN in for questioning and capture Billy and Stu in the process. Something is beyond off about her and her phony sweet American pie bullshit act.” 

“You're being so…You!” He exclaimed.

“And what the hell does that mean?” 

Dewey paced and the tension just gave way. “You! You always do this. You care more about your career and the next big revolutionary story to put your name in lights than you do people's privacy and feelings. YN, no matter what, made her damn choice and frankly I don't want to arrest her. I don't because I still care about her even though I never want to see her again! That's my weakness, my EMPATHY, something you don't have!” 

Gale reeled back a moment. Blinking in shock at her husband's harsh words. 

Dewey gripped his hair, his mental state just about having had enough the last few days as he didn't care about his volume. “I can't do this anymore! It's why I'm resigning this coming week. I want those two in prison but I am not hunting them down for the rest of my life. Whatever happens to YN? She dug her own grave with them and it HURTS! I can't make these decisions anymore! I can't. It's why I'm done chasing after masked killers and trying to do the right thing because it's tiring trying to be good but apparently not for you because you're eager to hound a 17 year old girl that lost everything and question if she killed her own mother and friends like a heartless person!” 

…

After his fit…A tense silence fell over them. Gale eyed him with mistrustful eyes. Dewey didn't mean to lash out. In fact, his heart ached just seeing the hurt look in Gale's eyes before her usual iron wall came up as a disguise to protect herself.

“Gale, honey I-” 

“Don't.” She gave in a firm gravely tone. She grabbed her phone and purse he had brought her from her car last night before surgery. He wanted to take her bag, to chastise her for possibly hurting herself with her shoulder but one icy glare from her and he shrank into himself.

She stopped short of the hospital room door to tell him. “I may have my habits but so do you. You did it 15 years ago with YN and now that YN is gone; you're doing it again with this girl because you have to have someone to shelter from the guilt of not saving your sister…You are a good man, Dewey! An amazing man. Too good of one that you can't see when someone is clearly lying. All because of this fucked up misplaced guilt for Tatum and trusting people.” 

Dewey stiffened. Not sure if he should be taken aback, angry or hurt at that statement. Gale was like this. She went for the jugular when hurt but that didn't make it okay in his eyes to bring up Tatum.

She was almost out the door but turned back to add one more thing. “And by the way!…The killer recorded everything; so check the harddrive on the new final girls fucking phone and see how innocent she is!” 

Gale released an annoyed growl in her throat like a frustrated groan as she slammed the door and walked out. 

Dewey stood there a moment…A tense moment that he sighed, then paced, then quickly wiped tears away with his sleeve and a sniff as they threatened to spring up. He hadn't even slept the last 24 hours and he was overwhelmed. Of all the times he needed his wife, it was now, and…He didn't know if he just scared her away or she was just that honed in on this case. He should be too. But he felt so damn…Weak. Powerless. Helpless.

“...The Barney Fife of Woodsboro.” He bitterly mumbled to himself. Gale's old words hurt him deeper than she knew. And she never truly apologized or truly ever told him he was good at his job. She praised his character but rarely his job as a cop only when she had to to make amends. Maybe…Because he wasn't?

He sighed heavily, a pang of heartache in his chest at having no one really. His parents were too old to put this on them, Tatum was gone, Sidney was gone, Randy was gone…Now you were gone with the people that did this. He refused to believe they didn't after 1996. And now his wife might as well be gone right now too and Judy was…Not the person to turn to after what she just tried in the hallway.

Dewey decided to visit the one person left even if they were now lingering in his mind as a falsehood.

Jill had to go into surgery again to examine and to stitch up the stab wound in her abdomen and back. To think…Billy Loomis did that. Billy Loomis. 

Dewey should be happy. His wife lived and was healing even if they just argued; at least he could argue with her. Jill lived to tell her tale. Instead, he hadn't felt this low in 15 long years. Not since Fall of 1996…

He headed to Jill's room. Hanging his head as he slowly entered the room. Making sure he looked presentable. He gazed at her and it made a pang of hurt form in his chest and disbelief in his mind…YN…YN, the girl he protected. YN, the woman he saw like a sister. YN the girl who lived…Tried to kill the innocent teenage girl with the help of Billy Loomis and Stu Macher…

He didn't care what Gale said. All this time, you lied. You lied and hid them. The guys that murdered his younger sister and her best friend and all those years Dewey and Randy both said ‘No! No no no, YN would never do that!’. Him and Gale even broke up over her and you twice, once in 1997 then again when Gale went Court back in the 2000's and how hateful she had been towards you. A girl barely a woman with the whole world out to get her. 

To think Gale was right all along. YN was a snake. All Dewey did was cry or go numb over this…And the idea you might have killed Randy or helped? You helped Billy and Stu kill Randy? It made him sick. Sick to his stomach; sick with himself for letting you and those two monsters get away. 

Gale's rant kept replaying in his head…What if…What if YN and those two were innocent this time? But that was insane. 

“Hey Dewey.” Jill gave in her usual sweet disposition. It made him feel guilt. “So…Any news of catching them?” She pleasantly asked so innocently.

He shook his head, “Sorry Jill. Not yet.” He sat in a chair next to her hospital bed and took off his hat with a heavy sigh. “I am…So so sorry. I failed, I-” 

Jill gave a forced sad smile. Shaking her head she softly said, “Don't. You didn't know. I mean, who would ever think of my cousin's best friend. I mean, Billy and Stu and recruiting a guy like Charlie. Do you think YN was forced? Like, I don't know, Blackmailed? Like, if she didn't do this; they'd kill her or more people she cared about?” 

Dewey looked up at the 17 year old. A glimmer of hope in his brown eyes as he tried and failed to hide how vulnerable he was right now. “I…I don't know.” He stared and thought. “Do you think so?” 

It wouldn't excuse anything but it was better than you willfully killing Randy and those kids. 

Jill smiled real big then quickly covered her mouth to hide it. 

“Maybe?” Jill shrugged. “I know she attacked me when I went to visit her but Billy REALLY attacked me. Maybe she thought I was them?” She pouted and showed her stitches under her gown. “I just want to find her and talk to her and know why? Why would she do this? If she was forced; we can help her.” 

Dewey looked hopeful and for the first time in 24 hours had a small smile. He stood and patted Jill's knee. “You're a good kid. Just get some rest okay? Leave all these questions to us. Need anything?” 

She smiled and shook her head. “No, not at all. I'm just sorry I tried to grab your gun-” She fidgeted with her blanket and grimaced in that sweet voice. “I just, wasn't feeling myself and was so upset my friends' murderers might get away.” Her eyebrows went up and she looked gutted but no tears in her eyes. Such a strong kid.

“Oh Jill.” He shook his head. “It's alright. I even thought…Well…Who can prepare for something like that? And I have almost 20 years of police training under my belt.” He went to shut her door. “You're forgiven, just get some rest.” 

She smiled as he shut her door and it just left a whirlwind of emotions in him. A part of him wanted to find you if you did in fact do all this against your will. If you were brainwashed or they had something on you that if they died someone you cared for got hurt…But if you actually did this on your own; he didn't want to find you. It hurts entirely too much even if justice should prevail.

He saw a huge grin on Jill's face in a reflection on the door…She must just be happy he stopped by.

——————————————

Later that night, Somewhere in California away from Woodsboro. You stood on a murderers porch in the dark hanging your head over the railing.

Fuck. Everything.

You were sore, physically drained, mentally drained. And you talking to Billy made everything worse.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your face. It had been such a long day, why the hell did you get on this subject? Yeah, it felt major. Billy Loomis told you you were his and comforted you while holding your hand after being stabbed. All while he came back to rescue you AND the letter that has been eating a hole in your pocket for days now. Pretty unavoidable unsaid context here…But this felt like the worst timing by his reaction alone.

You sighed again and tried to untense your shoulders before heading back inside. Still had a dried-blood, icky hospital gown on and a jacket. You were cold, tired, thinking maybe the pill was wearing off with how sore you felt. Your joints were so stiff and skin so bruised you felt like every step was an 80 year old woman not one at 32. You just wanted to go back to sleep on Billy's frumpy couch in some comfy clothes. Maybe the recliner with tape on the arm would be better? You were tempted to nap with Stu but he was acting…Odd. And if he touched you, you were in no position to fight him off right now.

With a heavy heart and head; you dragged yourself back inside. Not eager to be near either of these men at this point. Billy pretty much tore what teeny tiny sliver of hope you had in your heart for him even if it felt stupid to begin with and Stu was not acting right in the head. But what choice did you have? Can't go to Woodsboro, and in case the cops were hunting you, you couldn't go to a family member's house or your cabin either.

You walked in. Shut and lock the door. Shrugged off your jacket with a grunt to lay it with Billy's other jackets on an old rickety chair. Billy was nowhere to be found and Stu was sleeping last you heard.

You went to sit in the recliner for just a moment.  Every movement made you fatigued. Easing in with a grimace as you white knuckled the arm of the chair in your grip. God, everything hurts! It probably would for a while. You were still leery of the fact Jill could've punctured an organ or opened a stitch in your fight especially since you had only eaten a tiny bit and didn't have a bowel movement yet…You were fearful of the pain of that potentially or what to do if you did need to go to the hospital.

You eased back and tried to relax in the armchair. Closing your eyes for just a second before feeling someone near you…

…Your brow twitched at that uncanny feeling of eyes on you…

You opened them and in a flash Stu smacked his hands on either side of the arms of the chair. Essentially trapping you there as you gasped loudly. Nearly jolting in fear at the surprise.

“Stu, what the hell are you doing-”

“I know.” Was all he gave with a dark look in his blue eyes. A predatory look that reminded you way too much of that raining night at your house or him at that party at Windsor or even him holding your own gun at that motel.

“Know…What?” You whispered as you started feeling anxiety grip you. Easing back into the chair as he got closer, inches from your face.

“Don't play dumb, Sweetcheeks.” He smiled a humorless grin. “I heard everything you had to say to him on that porch just now…You two holding hands and you calling out to him, you and him bonding over your little book which I'm sure his character had a bigger role than my character if my character was even in it. The letter…Where's the letter, babe? I wanna read it.” 

“Stu, just…Let me up” You swallowed.

He gave with that dangerous smile, a dark expression as his voice dropped an octave and he got closer to you. “I really wanna read it.” 

“B-” Your voice caught in your throat out of fear and you yelled for the only other hope you had. “Billy!!” 

“That's right, call for Billy. Billy to the fucking rescue. Billy the guy always picked first! Billy the man!” Stu lost his temper and shoved a bunch of shit off an end table and you couldn't help the wince and gasp before you tried to get up and get away and he stopped you. “Uh uh! You aren't going anywhere!” 

You stared up at him with big eyes, “Stu…Just calm down. Let me go.” 

“Oh yeah, tell me to calm down. Tell me, baby. That always works.” He giggled out with a lopsided evil little grin.

“Stu, please-” 

He smacked the chairs arms, “HOW LONG!?” His emotions are absolutely random and chaotic. The jealous rage in Stu was nothing to be trifled with. You didn't owe him anything but you knew in his mind you did. 

“Stu, I don't know what you think but me and Billy are not in some secret relationship or hiding anything-” 

“BULLSHIT!” 

“WE AREN'T!” You frantically yelled back pinned against that chair before. “Stu, you're scaring me. Please.” 

He smirked but no mirth was in his eyes.

Billy came out of the bathroom and you heard him going towards Stu but to your shock, Stu was that pissed. That enraged at you both. That much past turmoil bubbling to the surface. That it seemed letting Billy man handle him all those years finally exploded. You hated it but the sound felt like it didn't come from you as a shrill gasp ripped past your lips as Stu punched Billy across the face before he could lay a hand on him to get him away from you. 

Stu went to swing on him again while Billy was down, going to straddle him to beat him god knows how many times. You yelled at him, “Stop it! Damn it, stop it right now!” as it fell on deaf ears and both him and Billy were trying to hit each other even in their injured states. You went to grab Stu by the shoulder and he shoved you back before a pained yelp came from you at your stitches and you collided against the chair. Damn…It hurts. You held back, not wanting them to do this but also not wanting to be injured for two nutjobs either. 

 You went to the kitchen moving faster than you should while injured. Trying to figure out what to do as you heard both men arguing and fighting. Stu, even injured, was a beast as he shoved Billy into a wall, actually cracking the drywall there, “You piece of shit! You knew how I felt and you did this behind my back!?” Stu yelled going to punch him and Billy dodged. “Don't love her? Isn't that what you told me a decade ago!?” 

“I didn't do anything you fucking lunatic!” Billy yelled back with a red cheek where his scar you gave him was as their grappling ended up in the kitchen near you. Stuff knocked off the walls.

“Stop lying!! You wrote her a fucking letter-” 

“Yeah! I did! 15 years ago! I was a fucking kid!” Billy emphasized angrily as he punched Stu but Stu tried choking him in a headlock.

“Yeah, I bet. Just like Roman, huh? And me being a scapegoat!” Stu had his arms around Billy's neck and Billy had no choice but to shove backwards in Stu's hold as you flinched when the small round table broke as they collided on top of it.

You did the only damn thing you could think of at the moment other than hitting them upside the head, let them kill each other or kill them with a knife.

They both grunted in annoyance, especially Stu, when you used the ice cold water from the sink hose and sprayed jets of water on them like 2 dogs fighting. “Enough! We don't need you both hurt, okay!? Fucking stop!” 

Stu got off Billy and marched towards you. Hair wet and pissed off. Fear dropped in your stomach at the predatory way he came towards you and as soon as you went to get a knife as defense, not expecting him to come at you like that... He grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you towards him. Dropping the hose in the sink and making you helpless against him in your injured state. You were too injured to even use any self defense moves and in this position it was hard. Shoved against a counter by someone so much bigger and both wrist in his hand and the distance closed between you two. You couldn't even kick him with your stitches so sore right now.

Billy tried getting up from the broken table on the ground, bleeding from where his stitches were but not as badly as Stu was. “Sttuuu!” He warned huffing breath and getting up.

Stu was sweating. Eyes crazed and bleeding through his shirt from reopening stitches in their short but intense fight. He glared down at you so hatefully. He glared as time judt froze.

“...You're lucky some tiny part of me gives a shit about you. If not? I'd rip you apart and bleed you out like I have so many other whores.” 

You stared. Not breathing as a chill ran down your spine. Because with his tone and the look in his gaze; you knew he meant it.

He jerked away to lean on the counter. In pain and panting as he hunched over and Billy leaned against the fridge near you. 

Stu shook his head in a dry smile. “...All those years, man. All those years I was there for you. I protected you, I left my number, I gave you the benefit of the doubt over and over, risked my damn identity and freedom not killing your friends…Well…Someone killed them, just not me.” He chuckled wryly, hanging his head.

Billy now with a red spot on his face slowly bruising glared tiredly at Stu. You just stared before telling him, “Stu, I swear I don't know what you think-” 

“I THINK?! No, I know. I know that you two apparently held hands and had a moment.” 

“Because you passed out and I was scared!” You exclaimed. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Billy and you share a book and he's a fan of it and a moment together and you go to him to talk and him to patch you up and him to take care of you when I've been pining for you for 15 years!” He gazed at you and his anger faded to desperation. “Fif-Teen-Fucking-Years.” He sounded out in a mumble as he stood up fully, gripping his stomach. 

“Stu.” 

“Don't bother. As soon as I can walk and drive and shit properly without pain; I'm out of here, man. And neither one of you will see me ever again.” He grumbled as he slowly made his way to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Billy and you were alone as he glared at you, “You just had to bring up that letter on the porch?” 

You were flabbergasted, “Hey, don't do that. I didn't know he was listening, neither did you!” You felt that shrunken guilt ridden feeling even if you shouldn't.

“Yeah well, he did. Now we both gotta sleep with one eye open. Thanks for that…Fucking idiot.” He mumbled getting an ice pack from the freezer for his face that was slowly getting red and inflamed from those punches. He glared at his broken table and shook his head and went to the recliner.

You just stood in the kitchen, your mind reeling like it had so many times before with these two. You never felt more weak and alone in your life…Well, top 3 at least on the awful moments list in your head. 

You walked out and noticed your jacket wasn't where you had it. You sighed to yourself knowing exactly who had it. “...I need to go talk to him. Or something. ” 

Billy scoffed, “Are you stupid or nuts? He'll kill you right now and these fucking injuries I got will be for nothing.” 

You rolled your eyes and laid gingerly onto the couch. Accepting maybe you needed to leave him be. Seeing the bathroom door open and Stu go to the bedroom.

That slammed door and hearing something break in HIS bedroom just sent Billy into a rage of his own. 

Billy and him argued one more time over the damage to the house and Stu stealing Billy's room that ended in Billy slamming the door screaming, “FUCKER!!” In outrage at his bed being taken in his own home by a guy he was letting stay here. You had talked him down from killing Stu which earned a ‘shut your fucking mouth and mind your business’ from him and yet you both complied. 

He tossed you some clothes and you finally got out of that damn hospital gown into an oversized flannel and comfy bottoms

Hours passed of awkward silence and the tv was on Rosemary's Baby. Billy had fallen asleep after 3 hours of ‘eh’ sort of grunts and shrugs as he had to redo his wrappings and had a bruise on his face. You tried to subtly clean up the mess him and Stu made but bending over wasn't a good thing for you right now. 

It was…Depressing. This house trailer with outdated everything and not a homey thing in sight. Especially compared to the Meeks house you stayed in tidy but cluttered with family things like kids toys and memorabilia and the fridge had pictures and drawings and cute magnets and the house smelled good but lived in in a cozy way and the blanket was fuzzy and clean but had a hint of the scent of Mindy's hair product where she had her hair braided that morning and had slept on it before you arrived. The pictures on the walls. The scooby doo and pikachu bowls and spoons for ice cream in the cabinets…Randy's movie collection.

A tight frown in place as you sighed. Thinking all of this was just dragging you down. You didn't need that anymore than you already had.

You had no one now. The cozy homely vibe people complain of as boring is a distant memory now. 

You saw Billy's room light was still on. Billy himself was asleep breathing deeply as you studied him for the longest time. His face matured so much in this decade. The shorter hair made him even more grown up looking as opposed to his longer hair he used to have. The lack of facial hair looked better on him too. Facial hair, at least that 90's goatee thin mustache combo he had, shockingly made him look like a kid that penciled it in or something. It looked out of place on his almost feminine features he had when younger. Now, with a much more chiseled jawline and bigger built frame he…Well, it was harder to remember he was that lean pretty boy with gel in his hair to sweep it back that was trying to kill you.

But Stu? He still looked so much like he always had just a bit more filled out. It was easy to remember Stu no matter how many style changes he went through.

You kept watching that light and you swore you heard a hiccuping noise that whether you liked it or not made you…Feel bad. It could've been him scoffing or anything but…The mere idea it was hurt from you hurt you in a way it shouldn't but it did. 

You cursed yourself glaring at the ceiling. ‘See? This is how you get into these situations!’ Was all you could think. 

You sighed softly and looked at Billy as you made a choice. Besides…You couldn't sleep and you knew damn well Billy wasn't as asleep as he acted. You were now in an oversized blue flannel Billy gave you to wear and a pair of gym style mens shorts. Nothing else to wear.

You quietly got up and crept past Billy's chair to the back part of the trailer. You almost wanted to use the restroom across from the bedroom and go back to the couch but you heard Stu still awake…And a tight frown formed as you raised your fist. You faltered before tapping on the wood with your knuckles. Stu was a loose canon and the longer this issue sat the more crazy he'd become.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

More Than Christmas Cookies » Lee Bodecker

December 3rd

Pairings: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Summary: Y/N taking Lee Christmas cookies turns into something different.

Warnings: Fluff, language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), flirting, kissing, pet names (darlin’, sugar)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

“Y/N, sweetie, take these to Lee.” Your mom says, handing you a container of Christmas cookies she made.

“Lee as in Sheriff Bodecker?” You asked.

“Yes him. I know how much you like him and I thought it would be a good idea for you to give them to him.” She says teasingly.

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m teasing you, sweetie. Now run along and take the cookies to Lee.” She says, giving you a hug.

You decided to walk to the police station since it isn’t too far from your house. You felt yourself getting nervous when you walked inside the station.

“Can I help you, Miss?” A deputy asks.

“I-I’m here for Sheriff Bodecker.” You say with a stutter.

Damn your nervous stutter.

“He’s in his office.” He says.

“Thank you.” You say.

You walked to his office to see him on the phone. You lightly knocked on the open door. He looked up and smiled, motioning for you to come inside his office. You walked inside of his office and sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and patiently waited for him to get off the phone. When he was finished talking on the phone, he wrote something down on a piece of paper and finally gave you his attention.

“Nice to see you, darlin’.” Lee smiles. “Is there something I can help you with?” He asks.

“My mama made Christmas cookies and told me to give them to you and I thought you would like to have a snack.” You say, handing him the container.

“That’s sweet of her and you.” He smiles, taking the container from your hand.

Lee puts the container on his desk and opens it, taking a cookie out of it and tries it.

“Mmm, these are good.” Lee hums.

“My mama would appreciate that.” You smiled.

“I have to thank her the next time I see her.” He says with a smile.

You smiled back and nervously played with hem of your dress.

“You got any boyfriends?” Lee asks, leaning back in his chair.

“N-No Sheriff. No boyfriends.” You say.

“Hmm, what a shame. A pretty girl like you deserves to have someone special in her life, especially during the holidays.” He says.

You looked down at your lap, blushing like crazy. The next thing you knew, you felt your head being lifted to look up by Lee’s hand.

“You nervous, sugar?” He asks, moving a piece of your hair from your face.

You nodded.

“There’s no need to be nervous, darlin’. You’ve known me for years.” He says.

“I-I know. It’s just…” You paused for a moment. “I like you.” You say quietly.

“What was that, darlin’? Can you speak up please?” He asks.

“I-I like you.” You say, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment.

“I like you too, Y/N.” He says.

“No, I mean I like you. Meaning that I’m in love with you.” You explained.

Lee looked at you without saying anything. You felt yourself getting more embarrassed by the second.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll leave. Enjoy the cookies and have a nice rest of your day.” You say, standing up.

You went to walk out the door, but Lee quickly closed it and pinned you against it. You felt your breathing quicken.

“I love you too.” Lee says softly.

“You do?” You asked.

Lee cupped your cheeks and leaned in, placing his lips on yours and kissed you passionately. His lips felt soft against yours.

“Does that answer your question, sugar?” He asks against your lips.

“Mhmm.” You hummed.

“Do you want to go get coffee or something?” He asks.

“Yes please.” You smiled.

Lee put on his jacket and opened the door, letting you walk out first. You two walked hand in hand out of the station, hearing his fellow deputies whistling on the way out. The two of you didn’t care. You guys just wanted to be with each other and that’s all that matters.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

-Bucky’s Doll

[billthedrake]

BIRD IN THE HAND (PART FOUR)

Paul Ricciardi didn't cook but he was used to clean up duty at his house. So it was natural to offer now. It had been weird, in a good way, to see his little brother come out and have his first real relationship, at 48. John was clearly head over heels for Cole, and even over dinner they'd trade glances in a honeymoon kind of way.

Paul was happy for John, but damnit even seeing that 20-something hottie made him pine for some hot guy-on-guy sex. It was an itch he hadn't scratched the last seven months. Maybe it was for the best, but Paul hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told John seven months ago that no one could live up to Cole's hotness. The FBI deputy director had gone through withdrawals from being cut off from Cole Walker's ass. He was still going through them.

"Let me get this, Paul," John said as he walked into the kitchen with the empty beer glasses and picking up a spare dish towel and slinging it over his meaty shoulder. John always had the more jacked body, but lately, it was like he'd gone hog wild with his workouts. His little bro was the opposite of little - not overly musclebound but definitely big all over.

"Nah, man," Paul objected. "I told ya, I got this."

John smirked, and Paul thought it was just because his brother was playing some etiquette game. But the younger agent leaned in and whispered, "Bro... Cole's back in the bedroom right now... if you're interested."

Paul gulped. His immediate reaction was to think it was a trap. "Come on, John," he objected, but already his face was flushing read.

John held his brother's gaze steady and gave a friendly nod. "Seriously, Paul, the stud's craving some Head Honcho time."

"Head Honcho?" Paul asked with a surprised chuckle.

John flashed a grin. "His nickname for you, bro." He patted Paul's shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze. "He's in total heat tonight. If you're not gonna go fuck him, I will."

Paul felt hot and his throat felt tight. "No, no... I wanna," came the reply out of his mouth. He took one more good look at his brother's face. He didn't want to mess their relationship up, but he also didn't want to pass on what was being offered. "If you give the OK, John."

"Have at it, Tiger... trust me," he said. Already he was starting the water in the sink and rinsing the dishes.

Paul didn't rush back to the bedroom, but he walked briskly, already unbuttoning his button-down shirt. As he rounded the corner he could see the kid... 24 now and still collegiate and youthful. Amazing ex-soccer body that had only been honed by steady gym time since his Georgetown days, a classic bubble ass that had to be half genetics and half dedicated work.

Cole Walker clearly knew what drew the Ricciardi brothers to him like a moth to flame.

"Hey," the jocky dude said dreamily as he stretched face down on the bed and looked back. Cole's voice was alluringly deep.

God, it was almost like the seven months had never happened and Paul was boning up for a quickie. But if anything the FBI man wanted the kid more badly now. He untucked his shirt and undid his belt. "I take it you're OK with this, too."

Cole nodded. "John and I have talked a lot about it. We want this," Cole replied. "I want this." He turned to face forward and slightly arched his back before hiking that round, smooth muscular ass up.

Goddamn, Paul's throat went dry. Hurriedly he stripped the rest of his clothes off and climbed up onto the bed, on top of Cole's taut, fit shorter body. The kid felt warm and the skin of his younger muscle felt dry against Paul's hairy chest. The law man kissed excitedly along Cole's strong neck and pawed at the hottie's arms and upper body.

This was all the foreplay the kid was gonna get though. The lube was out already and Paul helped himself. A seven month dry spell - at least outside of his marriage - was about to end.

"God fucking damn," he growled as he pressed inside that warm, snug ass. Cole was still tight but the kid took Paul's fat tool more readily than before in. John had broken the younger stud in, and that idea excited Paul. He barreled his tool all the way in.

"Fuck yeah," Cole hissed. "Fuck me, sir."

Paul did just that, with a few hard, deep shoves before working up to a faster fuck. "YOu missed Daddy's cock, boy?" His hips were working extra hard to pile drive the kid, making up for lost time.

Cole shook his head no. "John's my Daddy now. You're Uncle Paul."

Jesus, fuck, the kid was pervy, more than Paul ever dreamed. "Christ," he muttered, but mostly his reaction was to go wild on Cole's ass. Heavy, full-body thrusts in and out. A fuck that made the mattress bounce in time. Cole loved it but the whimpers were on the cusp of pleas to stop. They only made the lawman fuck harder.

"UNNNF!" Paul hissed as he came, all too soon. He'd probably lasted two minutes inside Cole's hole. He paused and caught his breath before he pulled out. His prick felt slimy wet and instinctively he knew he'd blown a double-heavy load just then. He patted Cole's perfect, alabaster-pale rump and slid off to the side. "Um, you cum, buddy?" he asked. He'd never been concerned about Cole Walker's orgasms before, but he knew the kid would get off on the hard sex and what he'd just delivered had ranked up there for a pile driving fuck.

Cole turned on his side, his ripped, taut body twisting for Paul's still hungry gaze. That ex-jock bone was still rigid. "Nah, Uncle Paul... but that's cool. I'm hoping your brother finishes me off."

"Damn," Paul hissed. He was used to being the in-charge one, but he realized he was over his head here. He placed his hand behind Cole's neck, taking a second to sink into those eyes and take in that cute face. And like that, Paul was kissing him. Maybe it was against the ground rules, but John hadn't actually set any. He'd just sent Paul back to the bedroom.

And Cole was getting into the kiss too. Half of it was the kid hadn't gotten off, but it was a slow affectionate kiss. He had a smile when they finally broke it.

"You should have your brother give you some lessons," Cole said, matter of factly. "He's a really good kisser."

"You guys planned this," Paul observed.

Cole shrugged. "If we hadn't, you would have tried to fuck me anyway."

The words stung Paul, but he realized Cole was right. And he realized Cole wasn't offended. They kissed again. The hottie's fist was wrapped around the lawman's fat cock, which was rock hard again. Slowly stroking as they made out.

"Why don't you go get John?" Cole said at last.

Paul got off the bed and started to pick up his clothes. "Come on, Uncle Paul... Daddy knows you've fucked me. No need to be shy."

Jesus, this kid...

In for a pound, thought Ricciardi as he dropped his underwear and padded into the hall in his birthday suit. He felt a lot self conscious walking into the living area of the condo, naked and with a good shank of hardon. But John didn't bat an eye other than to flash a grin.

"The kid's ready for ya," Paul announced. Then, "you weren't kidding about him being in heat."

John's chest puffed some as he stood up. He clearly had a thick boner in his jeans. "You glad you took me up on the offer, Paul?"

His big brother nodded dumbly. "Like you wouldn't believe. And I'm gonna go for seconds unless you guys say no."

"Not gonna happen," John smirked. He stepped up to his naked older brother. The man he'd looked up to for year, the man whose success still inspired him and fed some healthy sibling rivalry.

Both Ricciardi men were nervous but it was like they new this was inevitable. Paul's hands gripped John's waist and he gently pulled him close. There was a soft growl from both as their lips connected and their mouths opened. Then, toe to toe, they stood, French kissing for the first time.

"That was fucking nice," Paul Ricciardi grunted as they broke off.

"It was," John admitted. "Glad you went it it brother."

The incest was intense but surprisingly didn't freak Paul out. "Cole says you should give me kissing lessons."

John laughed. For all that he strived to be Paul Ricciardi in bed, it was always good to be reminded of the areas where he had the edge over his big brother. "I can do that," he smirked. "In the meatime, please tell me you're gonna join us."

Paul gulped and nodded. That hot feeling and dry throat were coming back now. "I'm gonna join you guys."

Paul saw the excited look in Cole's face as he got back onto the bed. He didn't want to freak John out but he claimed another kiss of the hottie while his brother stripped down, less impatiently than he had before. Maybe Paul would have to learn some sexual control from his little brother too.

Maybe that kiss went on too long because John was now kissing up the other side.

"Oh FUCK guys," Cole whimpered now that Paul's mouth had moved to his neck. Clearly he was living out a major fantasy, and the dual foreplay was as hot as the fucking. Almost.

It was John's turn to claim a kiss, his body now flexing and showing some more intense sexual excitement. Maybe he wasn't completely patient.

"He treat ya good buddy?" John finally asked in a whisper.

"So good, Daddy," Cole muttered.

Paul looked up, watching at close quarters this intimate conversation. It was almost like he wasn't there but some hired escort who'd done his job and left.

John grinned into his younger boyfriend's face. Yes, the 24 year age gap was tough to navigate. They still got the cold shoulder from some family and friends because of it. But here, here in their shared master bed, it felt right. "What did you decide on the rubber, buddy?" His voice got tight as he asked.

Cole blushed red and seemed shy as he looked over at Paul. "Uncle Paul felt so good, Daddy... I just let him in raw."

John nodded excitedly, like he was expecting that answer. "Gonna let Daddy have a taste?"

Cole turned back to his boyfriend. "Yes sir," he replied.

Deep down, Paul knew what was happening and knew what was going to happen. But he watched, transfixed and immobile as John kissed his way down that taut chest and those six pack abs, around the kid's groin, before nudging Cole to lift his legs up.

"Oh DAMN!" the FBI man hissed as his little brother started rimming Cole's recently fucked hole. Lube and cum notwithstanding. And John wasn't hesitant, he really began rimming excitedly and munching at Cole's tender pucker.

"Push it out, buddy," John finally urged. "Push it out for Daddy."

Cole got a concerted look on his face but it was only from the enthusiastic moans coming from John that let Paul know his brother was tasting his cum.

John was like a man on a mission as his jacked agent body climbed up hurriedly to meet Cole's kiss. As they reconnected and began snowballing Paul Ricciardi's load, John kicked the ex-jock's legs apart and began fucking, wildly.

The kid was beside himself, clinging to John's strong, heaving body and having his deep anal orgasm as they shared their cummy kiss.

Only then did John pull up, his head now a few inches from Cole's face as he kept fucking. "I know it's tough buddy, but Daddy needs to get off still... you gonna be my brave little man for Daddy? Gonna hang in there?"

Paul had intended for a round two, but unable to resist tugging at his boner, watching this scene tripped his wires. Another load spurted out. And once it happened, Paul committed to stroking out the orgasm, most of the cum landing on his own chest and belly as he watched.

His dick was still oozing as John entered his own orgasm. He gave a few deep, wordless cries and a few hard pounding thrusts. Then his body clenched still and unloaded, and John kissed Cole tightly.

The couple finally had a softer peck before John turned to Paul.

"Love ya, too, brother."

"Goddamn, John," Paul hissed as he moved to kiss his kid brother, who was now well in his middle age, like Paul.

Cole was waiting patiently for his own Paul Ricciardi make out time. The seasoned law enforcement man obliged.

The three alternated for a few minutes, until Cole slipped off to go shower.

"He's something else, isn't he?" John said, his chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as he looked over at his naked brother. For all they'd shared this was something special.

Paul looked at John, unable to resist admiring how goddamn handsome and hunky the other Ricciardi was. "John, what the hell just happened?" he asked.

John scooted in, reaching over to pull Paul's waist toward him. For all that had just gone down, this felt as intimate and naughty as any of it. "Paul, I thought you were the smart one in the family. I'm pretty sure you know."

Paul shook his head. "I guess I'm 'Uncle Paul' from now on out, huh?"

John smirked. He loved feeling Paul's hairy bulk against his own sweaty, muscular body that was covered with some of Cole's recent seed. "You have a say in the matter," John clarified. "But the kid would be thrilled."

Paul smirked. "In that case, 'Uncle Paul' it is," he muttered, bringing in his mouth closer to John's. "Now... how bout those lessons you promised.?"

THE END

[ynscrazylife]

Hey so could you do some domestic headcanons with Maria (like what she does in her free time, if she likes to get up early, etc.)

Domesticity With Maria Hill

Being the Deputy Director of SHIELD, Maria is guaranteed to have a crazy schedule. She works long hours and oftentimes, when she gets home, you’re already asleep. You insist on trying to wait up for her, but 9/10 times, that doesn’t end up happening.

Maria usually comes home to find you on the couch, the TV flashing, remote in your limp hand. Her heart aches at the site. You’re adorable, but she wishes you would just go to bed.

Maria has a routine. First, she slips the remote out of your hand and turns off the TV. Next the tidies up a bit if things are messy. Then, she’ll fold the blanket you have wrapped around you. Lastly, she’ll carry you to bed. Sometimes you stir and curl into her, other times you’re completely out.

Also, side note: you love Maria’s arms. She definitely has muscles and they’re very hot.

“You could crush me with your arms and I’d thank you”

On the rare occasion that she is home by a reasonable hour, you’re very giddy and that always puts a smile on Maria’s face. She loves seeing you happy.

On the weekends, the two of you usually have a lazy Saturday morning. It’s very hard to get either of you out of bed. You’ll be curled up with one another (Maria as the big spoon). She’ll run her hand through your hair.

If it’s raining…..you’re not going anywhere on Saturday. Saturday is a cozy, indoors day.

I feel like you and Maria would have a dog. Maria usually takes the dog out on walks in the early mornings and the two of you will walk the dog together after dinner.

Walks around the neighborhood with Maria are the best :)

Also, even if not everyone at SHIELD has met you, they all adore you. Maria talks about you a lot. They especially love when you bake homemade cookies or brownies and Maria brings them in (you give extra sweets to Natasha, of course).

You and Maria will also go to the gym together. She’s always spotting you, making sure you don’t get hurt. She’s very protective.

You love practicing different hair styles on Maria and she’ll indulge you. Oftentimes she’s sitting at the kitchen table doing paperwork and you’re sitting behind her on a counter, braiding her hair.

Also, you always insist on decorating for the holidays. Every single one. Your house is decked out. You can usually convince Maria to put up the decorations with you.

SHE IS SO ROMANTIC ON VALENTINE’S DAY. I’M TALKING ROSE PETALS EVERYWHERE AND CANDLE LIGHT DINNERS AND CHOCOLATES.

She is so charming and good at sweet talk and flustering you.

Maria is also usually waking up earlier than you in the morning. Before she heads off to work, she gives you a kiss on the cheek and you grunt sleepily in return.

If you’re being too stubborn about getting up, Maria will get the dog to jump on you and lick you all over your face.

Whenever Maria gets vacation time, you’re dragging her to the prettiest places. You’d be the planner among the two of you.

And whenever Maria’s away on missions, she always gets you a souvenir from wherever she is.

You guys tried to keep a plant once — didn’t go so well. You also got emotionally attached to the plant, which Maria didn’t really get.

The two of you have a lot of scrapbooks which you guys love reminiscing over glasses of wine.

I fully believe your house is so cozy all the damn time. Tons of sweaters and blankets. Lights are usually dimmed. It’s so nice.

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - feedback is my fuel :)

two - sunflower

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

NOW:

The world around me turned from black to blurry colour as I opened my eyes, the cold breeze of somewhere unfamiliar hitting my face as I groaned softly. My finger twitched, something heavy clamped onto it, making me let out a small, admittedly pathetic whine of confusion. My head hurt slightly, and there was a bearable throbbing pain in my stomach. I saw a woollen blanket over me, the room smelling of antiseptic and the walls painted blue and white with telltale plastic chairs and tables beside the bed, along with monitors beeping with my vitals on display on either side of me. The tables had flowers and small presents on it. The hell would someone be thinkin’ to give me all this? My head fell back against the pillows piled up behind my head as I registered where I was.

The hospital.

“God, it’s been a while since I was in one of these.” I grunted to myself, then I found a nurse standing at the door. She smiled upon seeing me awake, instantly coming over to take the tube out that was inserted into my arm.

“You’re awake, Deputy Joyner.” She chuckled, looking at me in admiration. “My name’s Lydia, I’m your nurse. Your vitals seem stable, so I can report back to Dr Jones and also notify your visitors to come and see you, if that’s fine with you.”

“How long have I been out?” I asked, coughing slightly. I felt at ease around Lydia, her friendly disposition making the fact that I had a bullet wound in my stomach a lot more bearable. I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.

“Six days. You suffered from blood loss, so it’s understandable.” The information almost made my heart shatter. It was Liv’s birthday tomorrow, and had I not woken up today, her auntie would be in hospital when she was needed the most. I turned to Lydia, nodding slightly.

“A-Alright. Who’re my visitors?”

“Quite a few, actually. There’s Jenny Hoyt, Emily Arlen, Cassie Dewell, Denise Brisbane, Beau Arlen, Olivia Barlowe and Dean Barlowe.” I wasn’t surprised that Mark wasn’t on the list, but I smiled anyway, knowing that I’d be seeing one of my best friends, Dean, after a long time.

“Let ‘em in.” I grinned, and she nodded, leaving. A minute later, the room was now full of every person on that list, all of them exclaiming in relief that I was ok, making me laugh. “Guys, I’m ok.”

“The hell you are, you had a bullet in you!” Dean scoffed, though there was a wide grin as he came over and hugged me cautiously. I patted his back, looking him in his green eyes with a smile.

“Well, now I am. Nice to see you, pal.”

“I’d say it’s nice to see you, but you’re in a hospital bed, so I’m gonna say it’s nice to see you alive.”

“Don’t hog her, dad.” Olivia pouted, practically shoving Dean away (albeit half-heartedly) before bear hugging me in a way that I wouldn’t get hurt. I stroked her hair, kissing it as I took a deep breath out.

“I’ll always have time for my baby girl.” I grinned, rubbing her back as I felt her shaking and holding back tears. “I’m ok, sweetie. I’m safe.” I shushed her gently, my eyes closing as I rested my cheek on her head. I opened them, looking up to Beau and Jenny with a small nod. Then my eyes landed on Emily, and I chuckled softly, raising my hand slightly from Liv’s back. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Elle.” Emily grinned, waving. I sent her a smile in response, my eyes glancing to Beau briefly before back at his daughter.

“Givin’ your dad any trouble?”

“No, no trouble.”

“Good.” I then let go of Olivia, kissing my niece’s forehead before looking at Jenny, Denise and Cassie, who all looked sympathetic. “Y’all need to stop lookin’ at me like that. I’ll be up and about in a few hours, like hell I’m missing my girl’s sweet sixteen.”

“You need to rest up, Belle.” Beau interjected softly, gesturing to me. “You took a bullet to the gut.”

“I’ll rest up when I’m dead.” I joked, moving to sit up, and Beau, with his Southern gentlemanliness, instantly stepped forward to make sure I didn’t strain myself.

“Easy, easy.” He helped me sit up, pulling the blanket further over me. “Don’t push yourself, ok?”

“You got sent presents.” Cassie pointed to the flowers and small gifts. “The Browns were ecstatic that you brought their daughter back.”

“So they sent over some beautiful forget-me-nots.” Jenny smiled, coming over to pat my shoulder. “We’re so glad you’re ok.”

“Bo-Bo, she deserves a raise.” Denise snickered, looking at Beau and waggling her eyebrows.

“Shush, Denise, I’m doing my job.” I chuckled. “The one I signed up to do, remember? You’re bound to get a bullet or two out there.”

The next day, it was Olivia’s birthday, and I’d gotten myself discharged from the hospital so I could be there for my baby girl. I had to wear a button-up dark blue plaid shirt, since that was easier to get on with a hole in your stomach, along with some comfy jeans. I was looking at a photo of my sister, Lucy, who was eight years older than me. Even so, she treated me like I was her everything, and she was mine too.

“Hey, Luce.” I whispered, my thumb rubbing over her broad smile. It was almost like she was here with me, with that twinkle in her blue eyes that we shared and her brunette hair that was cropped at her chin but still somehow fell in beautiful waves that made her look ethereal. “It’s been a while. Six years, to be exact, and I miss you. Dean misses you, Mark does, Liv especially. She’s grown up to be so… so beautiful, so you.

You’d be so proud of her, Luce, she even has your brains and we’re all the better for it.” I laughed a bit, then looked back. “I wish you could see her, I really do, but I hope you’re watching. Wherever you are. Love you.” I kissed my hand, pressing it to the frame while my memories with her flashed in front of my eyes like a film reel. “I love you so much.”

“Aunt Isa?” I heard from the door, turning to see Olivia. She looked stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress that was decorated with yellow flowers, her hair done up with a matching blue flower clip and some yellow flats.

This was my sister’s daughter.

“Liv, honey.” I smiled broadly, going to hug her immediately. “You look gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Really. If I made a daughter from scratch, I’d want her to be you.” The words made a goofy smile appear on her face, and she hugged me again quickly. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, auntie.”

When I pulled away, I stroked her cheek before remembering something. “Oh! Uh, your mom, before she died, she had a shoebox that she wanted to give to you on your sweet sixteen.”

“A…” Liv’s eyes narrowed, “shoebox?”

“Sounds lame, I know. But…” I hurried over to look underneath my bed, pulling out a grey shoebox with ‘Olivia’ written in Lucy’s neat handwriting. I passed it to her for her to open. Olivia took the box with slightly shaky hands, opening the top.

Inside were multiple cassette tapes, eleven when I counted, of Lucy’s favourite songs, along with a couple of first edition books and pieces of her jewellery. Necklaces, rings, at the forefront a charm containing a raven’s feather. The jewellery were mostly silver, but the few gold ones I recognised were from her weddings. Her engagement rings along with a golden locket that Dean had given her. Along with photos of Olivia growing up until she was nine years old.

But something caught my eye.

I saw one of the eleven cassette tapes had a word that I recognised all too well.

Sunflower.

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile. “Let’s go celebrate my baby girl’s birthday, hm?” Then I started making my way downstairs, taking the cake from a side room before emerging into the kitchen/dining room and setting it on the counter. Carla, Mark, Dean, Poppernak, Jenny, Cassie, Denise, Cormac (surprisingly) and Emily were all there, and let out a loud cheer upon seeing me up on my feet.

“There she is!” Jenny grinned, pointing to me.

“Deputy of the Month.” Poppernak added with a smile.

“Pops, what did Sheriff say about sucking up?” I winked before going over to hug them each, reaching Carla, who I smiled at happily. “Carla, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” She hummed, patting my back before looking me in the eye. “Beau told me about the shooting; are you ok?”

“Perfectly fine, just a few surface scratches, not enough to down me.” I chuckled, then turned to the cake, unboxing it quickly. It was a chocolate cake with vanilla icing and caramel drizzle, and it had ‘Happy Birthday Olivia’ in swirling chocolate piping. I kissed Olivia’s temple, patting her shoulder as I whispered in her ear. “Your mom’s necklace suits you.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Mark walked over with a smile I knew was forced for Olivia’s sake. “Isabelle.”

“Markham.”

“I got Olivia’s present.” He held out a gift-wrapped box, which I put to the side. “Look, you must be really tuckered out from the bullet. I could take Liv for until you get better-”

“I think I’m good.” I smiled briefly, nodding curtly. “I can take care of other people even with a bandage on me. But, uh, thanks for offering.”

He lowered his voice so Olivia couldn’t hear. “I don’t appreciate you keeping my daughter from me. This is why I made the custody claim.”

“Can we not talk about this on my niece’s birthday?” I asked in clipped tones, but I still put on a smile. “I’d hate to dampen everyone else’s parade with your half-assed smiles and trivial personal matters.”

Mark’s grey eyes bore into me for a moment, but then I felt the looming presence of Beau behind me, which seemed to prompt him to back off.

Jenny, Cassie, Beau and I sat down in front of a cassette player once everyone had cleared out. I held the tape between my fingers, trembling slightly as I wanted to find out what Lucy wanted to tell me. Or if it was all in my head.

“When you’re ready.” Jenny patted my back, giving me the strength I needed to put the tape in, shutting the compartment with a click and pressing the play button. The tape whirred, a voice crackling to life. Lucy’s voice.

‘Hey, sunflower.’ It was her. Clear as day, exactly how I remembered her from six years ago. Beau’s hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there. Her voice was shaky, unsure, nothing like the honeyed tones and sweet, soft syllables that I’d known since I was born and even before that. ‘I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, but I want you to know that I love you. I… I had to tell you somehow, but things were getting worse. Much worse, but I didn’t want to worry you. You were so happy with Jack, and I miss you. I guess after a while it hit me. That not having you around makes things that much harder, because it was always you and me. You… and me. Never forget that.’

“Luce.” I whispered as the player clicked, telling me that the recording was over. “What were you hiding from me?”

“I’m so sorry, Elle.” Cassie sighed, rubbing my shoulder.

“My apologies, sweetheart.” Beau rumbled in agreement while Jenny pressed her cheek to my other shoulder to give me comfort. My breath was shaky, as the reality dawned on me like the sun on a night sky when it was the crack of daylight.

My sister’s murder case wasn’t as open and shut as I’d initially thought, and it terrified me.

I woke up in a hospital, panting and spotting the angry scarlet bruises and cuts-

“Belle.” Beau’s voice lulled me out like it always did, and I held onto that sound- his deep, coaxing words that I couldn’t help but relax to - like a lifeline.

Like the only lifeline I had.

“Yeah, I’m with you, just…” I took a deep breath in, “last time I investigated my sister’s murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ‘n’ run.” I exhaled the breath, “Ain’t my finest moment.”

I scrolled through Instagram, since Olivia had taught me how to use it over a long and chaotic three hours, and the first thing I conveniently saw was my ex boyfriend Harry McIntyre with his pretty redhead girlfriend, the one who he cheated on me with. The lights of the bar illuminated my drink in purples, greens and blues, and I was beginning to enjoy the silence and tranquility of drinking alone.

“Isabelle.” Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.

It didn’t work. Just. My. Luck.

“Markham.” I replied coolly, sipping my beer as a thousand thoughts ran through my head about how I should stay calm and not deck this man in the face just to honour and respect my elder sister’s memory. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m not exactly going to be subtle or quiet about this, Isabelle.” He frowned, leaning forward slightly. “I am Olivia’s father, and you need to give custody over to me.”

“And I’m not gonna be subtle or quiet about this either, Markham.” I retorted, my mouth set in a thin line. “Lucy left me as Olivia’s legal guardian in her will. I plan to keep it that way. And, mind you, she’s your stepdaughter. I’d rather let Dean be her legal guardian.”

“I don’t trust Dean.”

“You don’t trust anyone!”

“Look, he just doesn’t come off as the good guy to me.” Mark persisted, but I took a sip of my beer and shook my head, scoffing. The audacity of this man.

“And you do?” I frowned, tilting my head in confusion and partial anger.

“I never said that.”

“Sounds like you did.”

“I just think Olivia would be safer with me.”

“Ok, Mark, let me make this very clear.” I smiled, but not the usual one. It was rather… menacing, because my eyes glinted dangerously. “I don’t want my night of peaceful drinkin’ to be ruined. You almost rained on a sunny day when you tried to bring this up at my niece’s birthday party. I’m not giving Olivia up. That girl means the world to me, and I ain’t keen on sending her to you. I do that when I’m on duty, but when I’m not, she’s with me. And it’ll stay that way, y’hear?”

Mark looked like he was about to argue, but my look silenced him. He shrank back, then got up and instantly went out the door. I laughed slightly, gesturing for a shot of tequila from the bartender. I’d had this conversation with Markham before, and it never, never ended in a mutual, calm agreement.

‘You… and me. Never forget that.’ I played that sentence over and over, listening to the quake in Lucy’s voice that only deepened the guilt in my gut to the point where it felt like the Mariana Trench. I remembered when the only expression on her face was pure happiness, and I could never understand why she was so optimistic, or even how she maintained it. All I knew was that I loved it. Too much, sometimes, to the point where Lucy was my everything and I was hers, in the best way possible.

It was always you and me.

It was, wasn’t it?

I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.

Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.

I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER THREE

[ramblingoak]

The Cardinal's Bride, Chapter 7: The Ministry

~~ Please visit The Outlaw Brides Masterpost to catch up and read more stories from this world ~~

Thank you to @tasty-ribz for the wanted poster!  Lots of other amazing people have done fanart of Cowboy Copia so please go check it out: @meowsaidmissy (1 / 2), @snail-shell2335  here, @vahvco here, @ghulehgwen here, @rabidghoul here, @nocterish here, @enjoy-my-swearing​ here, @blacktie-whitenoise (1 /2), z-xmyers (1/2/3), _simpera_ on instagram and valkyrieinpink on twitter.  Also a huge thank you to @kissingghouls for aggressively holding my hand and letting me scream at her about cowboys.

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader: western au, slow burn, romance, NSFW, 18+ only MDNI, 7,100 words  

(This chapter includes the interlude that was posted previously, but please read through again so you don't miss Sheriff Terzo)

“Copia did what?”

Secondo watched as Alpha nervously shifted from foot to foot. The Ghoul cleared their throat before continuing. 

“He, uh, kidnapped Saltarian’s fiancé. Sir.” 

Of all the fucking stupid things his brother could have done.  He clenched his fists on top of his desk and resisted the urge to flip the damn thing over.  When would Copia learn to let shit go?

“How did you find this out?”

“There was a courier that rode through about an hour ago.  Dropped off some updated fugitive info and some new wanted posters from around the area.”  Alpha pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and nervously set it in front of him.  “This was in there too.”

Secondo unfolded it and groaned.  There was the familiar picture of Copia that was posted everywhere with a damned window but next to it was a picture of a young woman.  He got progressively angrier as he skimmed over the text.  The Cardinal and his Ghouls kidnapped the generous Mr. Saltarian’s fiance.  The poor woman was being held for ransom less than a month away from her wedding.  It ended with a quote from the banking magnate that a generous award would be given to anyone with info on the whereabouts of the devil worshiping outlaws. 

Unholy fuck. 

“Should I wake up the sheriff?”

“What do you think?”  He crumbled up the paper and set it on his plate from dinner.  Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cigar and his matches.  “Wake Omega up instead.  I need to know where the fuck mio fratellino is.”

“On it.  I’ll have him come here right away.” 

Secondo ran a gloved hand through his hair and took a few puffs on the cigar to get it going.  After it was lit he flicked the match onto his plate, watching as the paper turned black.  His eyes flicked back to Alpha and he called out to him before he left his office. 

“Deputy…don’t tell anyone about this, do you understand?”

“Got it, Papa.”  

Secondo nodded towards the door but it burst open before Alpha had even turned around.  

“What now?”

Mist narrowed her eyes at Secondo’s tone as she shoved past Alpha. 

“Got a problem on the floor. Some asshole thinks Cirrus is cheating him at poker.”

He pushed his chair away from his desk and ripped open a drawer. His gun belt rested inside, something he rarely wore anymore. Mostly because he’d be too tempted to shoot anyone that pissed him off. 

“She’s supposed to be playing the piano.”   Secondo settled the belt around his hips and then grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.  “Who the fuck is on stage right now?”

“Cowbell.”

Fucking Cowbell.  He straightened his jacket and stalked around his desk, glaring at Alpha when the deputy still hadn’t left. 

“Shouldn’t you be doing something?”

Secondo narrowed his eyes when Alpha hesitated. 

“Uh, are you going to shoot someone?  I could stick aro—“

“You’ll do what I fucking tell you.”  

Alpha held his hands up and quickly turned, heading out of Secondo’s office. He could hear the Ghoul’s boots thunking down the hall as he went. 

“You ready?  Cirrus might’ve killed him by now.”

“I’m not that lucky.”  

Mist snorted and turned on her heel, Secondo trailing behind her as she headed out and down to the casino floor.  Secondo used the walk to check things over.  He could hear the piano playing and Cumulus’s voice accompanying it.  The sounds of glasses clinking and dice hitting tables got louder as the pair started down the stairs.  The place wasn’t particularly busy tonight, but there was still a low hum of chatter from the patrons.  Secondo easily picked up the sound of an angry customer as they started weaving through the tables. 

“I know you fucking cheated so just admit it!”

“You can say it as many times as you want, asshole.  It ain’t gonna make it true.”

“I know what I saw, you had cards up your sleeve!  I didn’t come to this shithole to be cheated on.”  The man took a step towards where Cirrus was still seated and spit at her feet.  “Especially not by a woman.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, you look like the kind of guy that gets cheated on by women a lot.”

“You fuc—“

Secondo had reached them right as the man advanced on the Ghoulette.  He reached a hand out and stopped the man’s progress, splaying his fingers wide on his chest and shoving him back away from the table.  

“What’s the problem here?”

“The problem is this stupid bitch has been cheating and costing me money!”

Cirrus slammed her fist into the table and jumped to her feet. 

“If you say I cheated one more fucking time I’m going to slice your damn throat.”

“You’re a fucking che—“

“That’s enough.”  Secondo once again had his hand on the man’s chest but this time he grabbed his shirt in his fist. He yanked him closer, blowing smoke down into his face.  “My games are fair.  My employees don’t cheat.  I think you’re just having a bad night friend.”

“I ain’t your friend.”  He shoved away from Secondo, stumbling back and falling onto his ass.  “Should’ve known a bunch of Satan worshippers would cheat.”

Secondo narrowed his eyes and took a step toward him. He pushed the right side of his jacket back and tucked his thumb into his belt so his palm was close to the handle of his revolver. 

“Care to repeat that?”

“You heard me.  Everyone knows about you guys.  Fucking sacrificing people and animals and shit.”

“Well if you believe the rumors why did you come here?  For someone with such a strong moral code you seem willing to revel in sin.”  Secondo smirked when Mist stepped close and lifted up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.  “You even spent the night with one of my fallen angels.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Liars.  Devil worshippers.  Cheaters.”  He shook his head as he stared the man down.  “Serious accusations from a drunk that can’t back them up.”

Secondo smirked when the man growled and clumsily got to his feet.  He was itching for the man to try something.  Despite how pissed off he was at Copia, he wasn’t planning on shooting him. 

Maybe he’d get to shoot this stronzo instead. 

“Oh I can back them up.”  The man clumsily got to his feet and reached for his belt.  “But first I’m gonna shoot you in your smug fucking face.”  

“Are you?”  Secondo clicked his tongue and let his palm rest on the handle of his revolver.  “What a pity.  I had plans for later.”

“Yeah well fuck your pl—“

The man had finally gotten a grip on his gun and pulled on it.  He barely had it out of the holster before a gunshot rang out and echoed through the now quiet casino.  Secondo watched as his body jerked and collapsed in on itself.  The bullet had lodged between his eyes, blood quickly pouring from the wound and dripping onto the floor.  Secondo grimaced for a moment before he turned to look at Mist.

“Take care of this please.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Mist pointed at some nearby Ghouls and snapped her fingers.  While Earth and Water lifted the body up Secondo uncocked his gun and spun it back into its holster.  He turned and took a few steps towards the bar before glancing back at the Ghoulette that was still sitting calmly at the table.

“Cirrus, a moment por favore.”

As he walked towards the bar he shot a look towards Cowbell.  The Ghoul took the hint and started playing again, Cumulus’s voice joining not long after.  At the bar he leaned against the front of it and nodded towards Air who quickly poured him a whisky.  The liquid burned down his throat, but he held it out for a refill.  Before he could tip that back Cirrus stepped up to his side and slipped the glass out of his hand, coughing after she tipped the contents into her mouth.

“Lucifer, how do you drink this?”

“You get used to it.”  Secondo held his hand out for his glass and nodded towards Air again.  As the Ghoul filled it once more he met the Ghoulette’s eyes.  “Are you that bored?”

“Can you blame me?  There’s nothing to do.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her statement, downing his drink in one gulp.  When Air filled it once more he handed it to Cirrus.

“Let me guess, you’d rather be riding around with my brother.”

“Well yeah, those shitheads need my help.”

“Do they?”  Secondo watched her throat move as she gulped the drink down.  “Help with what exactly?”

The only answer he got was Cirrus coughing as the liquid burned her throat again.  The fact that she wouldn’t meet his eyes was answer enough though.  Copia’s Ghouls were loyal to a fault.  When she finally spoke, Secondo froze.

“Don’t you want revenge?  For what Saltarian did to your family?”

“What I want is to live my life without looking over my back waiting for the next Saltarian.”  He also wanted more whiskey and another cigar.  Cirrus sighed and set the glass down at the bar before turning to head back to the poker tables.  Secondo shot a hand out and grabbed her wrist tugging it towards him. “I also would like you to take over for Cowbell please.” 

Cirrus nodded her head, but when Secondo didn’t let go she turned back to him.  He brought his other hand around and slipped his fingers into the sleeves of her top. When he dragged out the two aces he smirked at her and flicked them behind the bar. 

“Oh no, how did those get there!”

Secondo snorted and let go of her before pointing towards the stage.

“Piano, please.”  He winced as Cowbell hit a few wrong notes.  “Before I shoot him too.”

He watched as she made her way to the stage and unceremoniously shoved Cowbell off the piano bench.  When Cowbell looked his way he jerked his head towards the bar.  Secondo sighed as he watched Cowbell wander over, reaching out for his glass that Air had thankfully refilled again.  Before his fingers could close around it another hand intercepted it and Secondo gritted his teeth when he turned to look at the hand’s owner.

He really hated his little brothers.

“Was that a gunshot I heard?  In my good Christian town?”  Terzo drank the whiskey and then slid the glass back across the bar towards his older brother.  Secondo glanced up towards the door when it banged open, an out of breath Alpha stumbling in.  He froze when he caught Secondo’s glare, his eyes glancing towards Terzo before he quickly turned on his heel and left.  “Oh don’t be mad at Alpha fratello.”  

“I needed Omega, not you.”

Terzo smirked and lazily leaned back against the bar.

“Well, I was in Omega’s bed so…”  His smirk grew at the look of annoyance on Secondo’s face.  “You have become surprisingly uptight for someone in your line of work.”

“I just wish you’d stop sleeping with your deputies.”

“You know me fratello,”  Terzo grabbed Secondo’s glass again and held it out for Cowbell who had settled behind the bar.  “I sleep with everybody.  Right, Cowbell?”

Secondo turned his glare to Cowbell when the Ghoul fumbled the bottle of whiskey in his hands, thankfully catching it before it hit the floor.  He turned back to his brother and leaned in to stare him down.

“Did you know what Copia was up to?”

“You mean did I know our little brother planned on kidnapping Mr. Saltarian’s fiancé and ransoming her for a shit ton of money?”

“Si.”

“I did, actually.  Thought it sounded like a good time.”  Terzo ignored Secondo’s clenched fist slamming onto the top of the bar and turned his eyes toward the casino floor.  “Didn’t know he planned on attacking the wedding though.”

“The what?!”  He ignored the glances their way and grabbed onto Terzo’s ridiculous velvet vest.  “He’s going to do what?”

Terzo’s demeanor changed immediately, his hand shooting up and gripping Secondo’s wrist.

“You’re not as observant as you think you are, fratello.  If you were, you would have noticed that Copia has been planning this for a long time.”  He dug his fingers into Secondo’s flesh causing the older man to wince and let go.  “You also would’ve noticed that you had some of Saltarian’s men here.”

Secondo yanked his arm away and looked out over the crowd.  Most had gone back to whatever card or dice games they had been playing.  The only face he saw looking his way was Mist’s.  She was leaning against a pillar by the roulette table, her steely gaze watching the brothers with interest.  He took a deep breath and looked back at Terzo.  The shorter man was smoothing his hands down his vest and straightening the sheriff star pinned there.

“I take it Copia is heading back here?”

Terzo snorted and shook his head before looking back at his brother.

“Where else would he go?  Should be back tomorrow if everything went well.”  

Secondo pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut at the impending headache.  That fucking idiot, of course he would come back here.  Copia wouldn’t give a second thought to dragging that girl to The Ministry.  Probably where he expected to exchange her for the ransom money as well.  Willing to endanger everything in order to get his revenge.

“That selfish prick, when is he going to move the fuck on from this?”

“Never, you know this fratello.  Copia isn’t going to be happy until Saltarian is dead.”

“Yes well, more then Saltarian is going to die if he continues this idiotic plan of his.”  Secondo nodded towards Mist and watched as she slowly made her way over.  “I need to buy some time before he gets back here.”

“To do what?”

“To let Saltarian know we aren’t involved in Copia’s bullshit.”  

“Who gives a fuck what Saltarian thinks?”

Secondo resisted the urge to grab Terzo again, his wrist still aching from the man’s grip.

“I do and if you could bring yourself to give a shit about anything but getting your dick wet you should too.”  He waited for Mist to get to his side before speaking again, “We need to keep Copia away a little longer.  Do you know where he is?”

“Somewhere west of the Missouri River.”

Lucifer, please save him from these two.  Secondo looked out towards his customers when the majority of them started whistling and clapping.  Cirrus and Cumulus were bowing and waving at the crowd before they started another song.  His eyes lingered on Cirrus for a moment, an idea forming in his head.  She of all people would know where Copia might be.  He could send her out to stop him and keep him away while he tried to sort this mess out.

“Cowbell, go switch with Cirrus.” 

“But I ju–”

“Now.”

Secondo turned back to his brother and placed a hand on Mist’s shoulder.  He could feel how tense she was and knew she had picked up on the seriousness of what was happening.  

“Fratello, what are you going to do?”

He ignored his brother and looked back out at the crowd.  Secondo could see them now, a few men scattered about that were paying more attention to him and his brother than the games they were supposedly playing.  Too involved in whatever game Saltarian and Copia were playing with each other.  A game that could easily destroy everything Secondo had worked to build after they settled here all those years ago.  He couldn’t let that happen again.

He wouldn’t let that happen again.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Ethel had to come back and get you both.

With Copia’s lips on yours it felt like you were the only two people in the world.  You really had no idea that kissing could be so…involved.  There had been a few quick pecks from would-be suitors back home.  “City boys” that kissed like it was expected and something to get out of the way rather than something to enjoy.  Both kept their hands to themselves and stayed a respectable distance away from you as they leaned in for a brief pressing of their lips against yours.

Kissing The Cardinal was a completely different experience.

Copia kissed with his whole body.  As it continued he had kept one hand tangled in your hair and his other arm curved around your back.  He didn’t seem to want any space between you, something that you had zero complaints about.  Your own hands wandered wherever you could reach and you kept track of where he seemed to enjoy being touched the most.  So far he had reacted the strongest to your nails running across his scalp, a deep rumble vibrated in his chest whenever you did it.

Even in the midst of your wildest fantasies you had never felt like this before.  It felt so good to kiss him, to feel his hands on you.  You whimpered into his mouth when his arm moved from behind your back, but he quickly placed his hand on your waist before sliding it down your leg to your knee.  He squeezed there and your leg jumped causing him to pull his mouth away and laugh a bit.  Copia leaned his forehead against yours, both of you looking into each other’s eyes and panting trying to catch your breath.

“Principessa…”  His fingers started to move against your knee and you waited for him to squeeze it again, but instead you felt the cool air of the room hit the skin of your leg.  Copia was slowly pulling the hem of the nightgown up.  Your skin began to break out in goosebumps all the way from your ankle to your thigh.  Copia let his other hand leave your hair and he cupped your cheek instead, his eyes not leaving yours.  “Is this alright?”

You had been trying to get the word ‘yes’ out of your mouth, but the sudden feeling of his bare hand on your knee turned the word into a gasp.  He had your nightgown bunched up and his thumb began to trace circles against your skin.  Your legs had begun to tremble in anticipation and maybe in another life you would feel embarrassed for being so needy, but all you felt right now was want and what you wanted was Copia.  He was right here, right in front of you and he wanted you too.

Unfortunately that was the moment Ethel decided she had waited long enough and after a series of sharp knocks she had told Copia to leave you alone so you could get dressed.  He had called out an apology and then pressed a kiss to your forehead before dropping the hem of your nightgown and letting it settle back at your ankles.  

“We’ll pick this up later, eh Principessa?”

He grabbed his clothes from yesterday and then he had turned and left the room with a smirk, telling Ethel good morning again before going to track down Harold and the Ghouls.  Ethel had turned her own smirk on you and you could only imagine what you looked like right now.  Hair messed up from Copia’s fingers, your lips swollen, not to mention how your cheeks were burning from the scrape of his beard.  At least he had fixed your nightgown before he had left.

“Let’s take a look at those clothes, alright dear?”

The rest of the morning was spent with Ethel as she sorted through piles of clothes to find a few things for you to take.  You had tried to convince her there really wasn’t room to pack anything extra, but she had her mind made on setting you up with some more practical traveling clothes.  Hopefully Copia would be ok with it because it would be nice to have some things that fit you better than someone’s spare pants.  At the very least Copia would probably be happy you wouldn’t be wearing Swiss’s shirt anymore.

Ethel spent the time talking about random subjects.  You learned about where she grew up and what originally brought her across the country.  She shared a few funny stories about her two boys, both of which she and Harold had adopted rather than have any of their own.  Ethel’s life had been so different from yours and it was amazing to hear her talk about it all.  She had lived a full life even before she met her husband.

“How did you and Harold meet?”  When Ethel didn’t say anything at first you thought maybe it was a story she didn’t want to tell.  However when you looked at her face the older woman had a small smile and her cheeks had pinked up a bit.  “If you don’t want to share that’s ok.”

“Oh, no dear.  I don’t mind sharing.”  Her smile grew a bit and she held up a blouse before continuing.  “I stole his horse.”

“You stole…are you serious?”

“I was a handful when I was younger, driving my father crazy with all the things I’d get up to.  But my mother had passed away many years before and he was mostly focused on the general store he ran.  I was angry over losing my mother and angry over him ignoring me to work there so I caused a bit of trouble around town.”

You had a feeling that when she said ‘a bit’ she meant a lot.

“Did Harold live there too?”

“No, he was just traveling through one day looking for work.  I was minding the store while my father ran an errand and Harold refused to talk to me, saying he would only talk to the owner.”  Ethel sniffed and shook her head.  You could tell the memory of that still irritated her.  “So as soon as my father got back I stormed out of there, jumped on his horse and rode the hell out of town.”

She was quiet for a moment, lost in her thoughts before she continued.

“Well, long story short, the sheriff caught me not long after.  He tried to get my father to bail me out of jail but that old bastard refused!  Said I should finally face the consequences of my behavior.”  Ethel turned and smiled at you, bumping her shoulder against yours.  “So Harold bailed me out.”

“Really?”

“He did, he bailed me out and I haven’t been able to get rid of him ever since.”  You laughed with her, imagining a young Ethel moving around town with a lovesick Harold on her heels.  She quieted down, still smiling at you as she reached over and tucked some of your hair back behind your ear.  “Now, how about you tell me how you and Mr. Emeritus met.”

You couldn’t help but freeze for a brief moment.  This wasn’t something you and Copia had talked about.  You weren’t sure what he would want you to say.  Obviously not the truth, you were sure Ethel wouldn’t take kindly to finding out that Copia and the Ghouls had kidnapped you, despite how much the…situation had evolved since then.  You would need to get creative, come up with something that would be easy to believe.  Your lips began to pull up in a smirk when you thought of how worried Copia was for you to be able to think on your feet.

Time to show him what a city girl could do.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

After spinning what you felt was a grandiose, but still believable tale of how you and Copia met and fell in love you helped Ethel wash some sheets and blankets.  She had looked at you like you had two heads when you told her you had never washed anything before.  Thankfully her look of disbelief was quickly replaced with the familiar kind look she had been giving you.  Once again you felt an ache in your chest, wondering how different your life might have been with someone like Ethel as a mother.  

It wasn’t that you didn’t love your own, but it was more just a feeling of indifference.  The home you grew up in was cold and empty despite the numerous fireplaces and furniture.  You had always felt alone there.  The maids and cooks were instructed to converse with your family as little as possible.  There had been a few people you had befriended when you were younger, but it always seemed like as soon as you got close to someone they’d be replaced.  Your parents were so strict when it came to you, so cruel.  You had always known it wasn’t fair or even normal, but the more time you spent away from them, from that environment, the more you realized how wrong it had all been.

The farmhouse just felt so right.

Ethel had given you a basket of things to hang outside while she took some lunch out to everyone else.  She had a few rope lines hanging behind the house and walking out to them gave you a chance to see the farm in daylight.  It was so beautiful you kept finding yourself stopping to take everything in.  The house itself had a large porch in the front with a few benches and seats scattered about.  There was even a swing and you were tempted to take a moment to sit down and enjoy the scenery, but you didn’t want to be caught not working.

As you walked around the front of the house you took in the large pasture that stretched out from the porch up a hill in the distance.  There was the barn not too far away, with a few other smaller buildings nearby.  You thought you heard shouting and laughing so that had to be where they were doing the repairs from the storm.  The house and barn definitely looked like some work could be done, but nothing that really stuck out to you as dangerous.

Behind the house was where more fields stretched out.  It looked like at some point there might have been crops there, but at the moment everything looked like random plants and weeds had taken over.  Large patches of dandelions had cropped up and you took a moment when you set your basket down by the laundry lines to pick one.  The bright yellow flowers were always your favorite, despite many thinking of them as weeds.  Your father would always make someone go out and pick them from the yard around your home, but you tried to sneak a few into your room whenever you could.

You twirled the dandelion stem between your fingers as you watched the grasses and tree limbs move in the breeze.  It seemed silly but you let yourself have a moment imagining what it would be like to live here.  Maybe you could start growing crops again, harvesting things to take to a market somewhere.  Growing things to use for your own cooking.  Your eyes fell closed as you let your mind wander even further…thinking of who you wanted to share this dream with.  The question you were afraid to ask yourself was at the edge of your thoughts, ready to ruin your daydream any moment.

Would a man like Copia be happy in a place like this?  With you?  

You tucked the flower into one of the button holes of your blouse and then threw a blanket over the line, smoothing it out before a growing noise behind you made you pause.  Hoofbeats were getting closer and you quickly turned your head, the momentary fear instantly leaving when you saw Copia approaching on Brizio.  He had an easy smile on his face, looking more relaxed than you had ever seen him.  His black hat was perched on his head like always, but otherwise he was only in pants and his red button up.  The shirt was barely done up, probably unbuttoned as the air got warmer.  Your eyes couldn’t help but drift to the exposed portion of his chest, lingering there too long and risking him noticing.  When you quickly looked up to his face you sighed at the smug grin on his face.

Of course he noticed.

He chuckled when you turned and started clipping the blanket in place.  You knew ignoring him wouldn’t actually work but at least you could hide your own smile.  Fueling his ego would just make him even more insufferable, not that it bothered you so much anymore.  Especially when it made you feel butterflies in your stomach or when it led to him being close to you.  Brizio stepped close enough you could feel his snout bump against your shoulder so you spun around again to glare up at his master.

“Copia I’m busy.”

“Looked like you were daydreaming to me.”

When Brizio started snuffling into your hair you pulled away, reaching down to grab another blanket.  

“Well what are you doing?”  You glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow.  “Shouldn’t you be helping Harold?”

“I was, but his beautiful wife brought us lunch so I decided to come see my beautiful wife.”  

To hide your red cheeks you ducked around to the other side of the blanket as you clipped it to the line.  You saw his and Brizio’s shadow grow as they moved closer to the blanket, the sun bright on their back.  The blanket moved when Brizio pressed his muzzle into it and you pulled it away from him.  

“Copia!  These are clean sheets keep him away.” 

“Ai, Brizio is clean.”

You rolled your eyes when he gave the horse a pat on his neck.

“Yes I’m sure he’s just as clean as his master.”

“Principessa, I can’t believe you.  Here I am wanting to spend time with my wife and she chooses to mock me.”

When you walked back around the sheet he moved to block your way, smirking when you huffed and crossed your arms.

“Copia I have work to do.”

“It can wait, come on a ride with me.”

“A ride?  Where?”

He shrugged and looked around, much like you had done earlier.

“Eh Harold has been talking about the farm all morning.  I just want to take a little tour.”  He turned and smiled down at you.  “Come with me.”

You hesitated a moment, biting your lip as you peered up at him.  Going on a tour was something you wanted to do, but after this morning you were a little nervous being so close to Copia again.  You wondered if he would kiss you again, you hoped he would kiss you again.  But you weren’t sure if you’d be able to make the first move.  Even for something you desperately wanted. 

“Will we be gone long?”

“Not long at all and I promise the laundry will still be sitting here safely when we return.”  You took a few steps closer and reached out to rub Brizio’s neck, looking up at him when he clicked his tongue.  “What if I promise to keep my hands to myself?”

You gave him a smirk of your own as you studied his face.

“What if I don’t want you to?”

Copia gaped at you a moment, but before he could speak you both turned toward the house when you heard Ethel’s voice.

“Mr. Emeritus!”

“Quickly now, Principessa.”  He laid the reins on Brizio’s neck and held his hands out for yours.  “Come on, before she catches us.”

Ethel shouted for him again so you quickly made up your mind and placed your hands in his.  A little squeak escaped you when he started lifting you up.  You placed your right foot on top of his and pushed off the ground, laughing when he spun you around so you were sitting in front of him.  He kept an arm around your waist as you settled against him and adjusted your skirt.  It was a large billowy thing Ethel had given you this morning, perfect for horse riding.  

Copia grabbed the reins with his other hand and turned Brizio away from the laundry line to face the house.  You snorted when he waved at Ethel, the woman clearly not amused at Copia’s antics.  Her hands were on her hips as she stared him down.

“Don’t worry signora!”  He pressed his heels into Brizio’s sides and said something in Italian to the horse.  Brizio immediately took off in a trot away from the house.  Copia turned in the saddle to face Ethel again before you got too far away.  “I promise to bring her back!”

He wrapped his arm more firmly around you and dropped his head into the crook of your neck.  You shivered when you felt his stubble tickle the sensitive skin there.  His warm lips pressing kiss after kiss onto your skin.  After a few moments he brought his lips to your ear, his mustache scratching along the edge.  You took in a quick breath when he nibbled on your earlobe.  At the same time his hand started to wander along your waist, moving up higher and higher until it was resting right below your breasts.  

“Copia!”

He shushed you, leaning down to press a few more kisses on your neck before he straightened up again to whisper into your ear.

“Are you ready for a ride?”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

It was dark before you made it back to the farmhouse.  Copia stopped at the barn first, leaving Brizio in Aether’s care before he took your hand and led you back to the house.  You were both quiet as you walked.  Copia kept looking out over the fields and you found yourself stealing glances at him.

The tour had turned into more of what had occurred between you both that morning.  His hand on your chest had continued to wander, his lips on your neck making you shiver.  It wasn’t long before you were squirming against him, quiet whimpers leaving you. Eventually he stopped Brizio under the cover of some trees and turned you so you were sitting sideways across his lap.

“Principessa?”

You were startled out of your thoughts by his voice and you looked over at him.  He had paused at the bottom of the porch steps, pulling you against him as soon as your eyes met.  Your eyes fluttered shut when he pressed a gentle kiss into your forehead.  When he pulled away he tucked your hair back behind your ears and gave you a small smile.

“What?”

Copia shook his head at your question and just continued to smile at you.  He glanced down at your chest and gently pulled the dandelion you had tucked into it away.  You were surprised it had survived his wandering hands while you had been on the ride.  He twirled the stem between his fingers much like you had done before lifting it up and slipping the stem behind your ear.

“Let’s get inside before Ethel comes looking for us.”

Thankfully Ethel didn’t seem too upset by your absence for most of the afternoon.  She came over and squeezed your shoulders before shooting a quick glare at Copia.  You expected him to make some sort of smart comment but instead he broke out into a wide yawn.  Amongst the lamps and candles lit inside the house you noticed how tired he looked.  There were bags under his eyes that were normally hidden by his dark makeup.  Ethel took a few steps towards him and gave him a quick pat on his shoulder.

“How about you go clean up and your wife can help me set dinner out.”

All she got was a quiet nod before he took his boots off and wandered down the hall.  You followed Ethel into the kitchen and helped her put the finishing touches on dinner, stealing bites as you worked.  Harold packed a few baskets and left to take the food out to the Ghouls while Ethel sent you down the hall to collect Copia.  As you approached the door you didn’t hear any noises so you quietly opened it to peek inside.  The only light illuminating the room was from the moon shining in from the window, but you could just make out Copia’s form on the bed.

“Copia?”

You took a few steps into the room, about to call out his name again before you noticed how still he was on top of the covers.  There was a pile of clothes on the floor by the foot of the bed and you carefully stepped over them as you crept closer.  He had changed into a clean shirt and pants at least before laying down.  You studied his face and could see that the dirt and grime of the day had been removed.  A few wet strands of hair had fallen across his forehead as well.

The urge to brush the hair away was strong, but you didn’t want to risk waking him.  Copia looked so peaceful, it almost felt like a spell had been cast upon the room.  You found yourself holding your breath and you had to be careful letting it out slowly to not make too much noise.  The floorboards creaked when you took a few hesitant steps back and you winced.  After waiting for a few moments and not seeing him stir you turned and carefully crept back out of the room.  

Ethel wasn’t upset about dinner changing, she just gave you that familiar soft smile and told you to take care of him.  You and Copia could join her and Harold for breakfast in the morning instead.  When you got back to the room Copia had turned on his side to face the wall.  You quickly removed your clothes from the day and grabbed the nightgown, pulling it over your head and immediately glancing back over to the bed to see if he had been watching.  The brief pang of disappointment you felt when he continued to sleep made you nearly roll your eyes.

The cowboy was getting to you.

There wasn’t an easy or quiet way to get into the bed and under the covers, but you crawled up from the foot of the bed as carefully as you could.  The only light in the room was from the moon shining through the window, just enough to illuminate the side of his face not smooshed into the pillow.  He looked so peaceful, his breath quiet and his body still.  More hair was hanging down and you couldn't help but hesitantly reach out to brush it back just like he did to your own hair.

“Go to sleep, Principessa.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, jerking your arm back and shoving it under the covers.  He peeked his green eye open and it sparkled when the moonlight hit it.  When you saw his mouth slowly pull up in a smirk you huffed and turned so that you faced the wall.  The bastard had probably been awake the whole time.  A few moments passed in silence so you settled further into the bedding.  It wasn’t until you felt his arm slip around and pull you closer to him that you let your eyes close to drift off to sleep.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Secondo hadn’t felt this tired in a long time.

Not since the first few years after the attack, when he still expected Saltarian to show up with more men.  To see another home burned to nothing, to see more people he loved killed.  It wasn’t even just the fear of Saltarian though.  It was also the constant fear of if they would make it or not.  If they’d be able to keep everyone safe and fed.  He and his brothers had worked tirelessly to rebuild things.  A new home and a new way of life for the members of the Church of Emeritus.  

After those first few years things had seemingly relaxed.  There had been no word or sign from Saltarian or any of his associates.  The Ministry, his casino and his home, had steadily grown since then.  It wasn’t just his home now, so many of the Ghouls and Ghoulettes called it home as well.  Most of them worked there or around the town in some capacity, Impera was what they ended up calling it in the end.  Secondo and his brothers had settled somewhat comfortably in their own roles there, with Primo eventually moving a few days ride away for some peace and quiet.  Everyone seemed, if not happy, at least content with their new life.

Everyone except for Copia.

A knock on his door interrupted his brooding, but it opened before he could tell the person to go away.  Terzo waltzed in, looking rumpled and like he’d spent the last hour at the bar.  Not the best look for the town’s sheriff, but everyone was so used to it that if he didn’t look this way that’s when people would be concerned.  Either way Secondo didn’t have the patience to deal with him at the moment.

“What do you want, Terzo?”

“Ah, I see you’re in an excellent mood like usual.”  Terzo flopped down into one of the chairs across his desk with a heavy sigh.  “What happened?  Did you have to shoot someone today?”

“Not yet.”  He glared at Terzo when he brought his legs up and set his feet on the edge of his desk.  “Don’t you have someone’s bed you could be warming?”

“Always.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?”  His brother’s face sobered a bit and Secondo felt a quick pang of regret for snapping at him.  Terzo was getting dragged into this nonsense of Copia’s as well.  He was at risk of losing his family and home too.  Secondo took a calming breath before continuing.  “Has there been any word from Cirrus?”

“That’s what I came to ask you.”

Secondo shook his head and turned to look out the balcony windows behind him.  Cirrus would hopefully be back tonight or tomorrow morning.  It was a long trip for what would hopefully just be a quick conversation with Copia.  His brother might be pissed at Secondo for interfering, but he would at least listen to Cirrus.  The extra time would make sure his letter had gotten to Saltarian.  A letter Secondo had written in a hurry before sending Alpha and Earth off with it.  Hopefully it would be enough to keep the man at bay.

“Fratello?”  Secondo turned back to Terzo and his face softened a bit at the look on his younger brother’s face.  He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Terzo to continue.  “What do you think Saltarian will do?”

Before he could answer the door to his office burst open, Mist quickly striding in.  The look on her face was one Secondo hadn’t seen for nearly 10 years.  

“What is it?”  He got up and moved around his desk, reaching out to place a comforting hand on the Ghoulette's shoulder.  “Is Cirrus back?”

Mist shook her head and took a steadying breath before she shared her news.

“Saltarian is here.”

Go to Chapter 8: Playing House

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