#feeling like you're gonna always be stuck in a town you truly hate?

[graveyarrdshift]

me every time i wake up

[honey-crypt]

NEED ELLIOTT SUCKING FARMER COCK N OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

a/n: the winner of my 69 followers contest sjfhdsjf - i expended on it cuz it was openended but i hope you enjoy cuz i sure did LMAO.... MINORS DNI PLEASEEEEEE

word count: 2.7k

summary: elliott thinks you're a rude ass who must've been raised by wolves with your swearing and lack of manners while you think he's a pretenious, self-absorbed piece of shit who's the reincarnation of narcissus himself. yet, after a fight ensues at the luau, you find yourself trapped between a rock and a hard place, both of which being your accidental boner.

warnings: hatefucking, enemies to friends with benefits maybe??, degradation, dom/sub dynamics. top!farmer, bottom!elliott, dacryphilia, farmer is amab but no gendered langauge, mild cum eating, semi-public sex (fucking in elliott's cabin during the luau), too many instances of bee writing the word cock in this fic, use of slut/pretty boy/dumb bitch/fucktoy, hair pulling, mild pain kink, mild dumbification???, facefucking

★ shut your mouth - elliott x farmer ★

You found Elliott to be somewhat pretentious. He annoyed you with his eloquent and over the top words, as if he was transported to the present from Victorian England. You hated how he held himself, always so high and might like everyone around him was less than. Oh, and his hair! His fucking hair! It was stupidly shiny and perfect, you just found it utterly repulsive. No one needed to be that obsessed with their appearance.

At least, the feeling of resentment was mutual. Elliott despised your crude language and sailor-like tendency to swear every other sentence. He hated the way how impatient you were, such as the time he witnessed your never-ending foot tapping while you both were stuck in line at Pierre's. And your smile? Ugh, it was too bright and big, almost like a wolf's grin before its next kill

Nonetheless, the two of you made an effort to avoid one another in public, only exchanging pleasantries in front of other townies or the unfortunate physical run-ins that would result in a sneer from you and a scoff from him. Yet, there were days that neither of you could avoid the other and today happened to be one of those days.

The Luau wasn't one of your favorite festivals, the communal soup was usually a hit or miss but Linus always cooked a delicious brisket. On the day of the festival, you entered the beach around noon after feeding your farm animals and made a beeline to the slow-roasting brisket, "Linus!" you greeted Pelican Town's local wild man, "Good to see you with the rest of town!"

"Ah, (Y/N)," he greeted you with a soft smile while rotating the brisket, "It's nice to see you, as well. The brisket will be done in just a minute, you can have first taste."

"Did you know that you're my favorite person in whole wide world?" you laughed, earning a chuckle from Linus. His timing was extremely accurate, as a minute or so passed before Linus extinguished the fire below the brisket, "All ready for eatin', enjoy."

You give him a side hug and held out your plate, "Thanks again, Linus! You're the best," you thanked the nature lover and pulled a large chunk of brisket off the roasted chicken. You passed by the assembly of condiments and poured enough BBQ sauce to drown your brisket in a sea of tangy brown liquid. With a relieved sigh, you dug into your brisket like you've been starved for years, So fucking good... you thought to yourself, BBQ sauce splattering on your face and clothes.

"Were you truly raised by wolves, Farmer?"

Not good anymore. Elliott stood before you with his arms crossed and brow furrowed. You set your brisket back on your plate and took a fistful of napkins, haphazardly wiping the sauce of your face and clothes. The uptight writer let out a huff, "That seems to answer my question," to which you glared daggers with him, "Are we really gonna do this? At the Luau, pretty boy?" the nickname rolled off your tongue with venom.

"Are you going to continue to insult everyone with your lack of manners and dining etiquette?" retorted Elliott with a sneer. You leapt to your feet, hands slamming against the table. Some festival attendees turned their heads towards you at the sound, but shortly dismissed it and returned to their prior activities.

"You know, you're a real asshole," you growled quietly, not wanting to cause a scene in front of the whole town. Elliott let out a laugh, a cocky but classy laugh, "And you lack the fundamentals of being a decent individual with your cursing and attitude."

Your blood turned icy at his words and before you could stop yourself, you slapped Elliott across the face. The echo of the slap vibrated across the beach and alerted the other residents of Pelican Town. Mayor Lewis excused himself from the governor and approached the two of you, "Oh, what a careless mistake!" he exclaimed to the town, "You must be more careful with your hands, (Y/N), haha!" the rest of town relaxed and resumed their festival enjoying. Mayor Lewis eyed you and Elliott with exasperation, "If you're going to throw hands, do it somewhere else."

"Gladly," you grumbled, picking up your brisket and a soda before exiting the beach. From the beach, you only made it to the small bridge that connected it to the town when you felt someone grab your wrist, "Hey!" you yacked your wrist free, "What the fuck?"

"Do you not have any control over your emotions?" the wrist grabber, Elliott, questioned. You huffed once more and placed your meal down on the bridge, "You wanna be slapped again?" you wringed out your hands, "How about I punch your face? Won't be pretty anymore, which would be a shame because it's the only thing you got going for you."

Elliott opened his mouth to fire back, but promptly shut it. You cackled, "Aw, did I leave Mr. Ernest Hemingway speechless?" It's a relief to hear you silent for once.

"You truly think I'm pretty?" What the actual fuck? You blinked, it was your turn to be speechless. However, that speechlessness only lasted for a moment when you answered, "Everyone in this Yoba damn town thinks so. Are you trying to fish for something?"

"No, no, I just-" the writer ran his hands through his hair and tugged on its locks, "Yoba, you're insufferable, (Y/N)," a snort escaped your nose, "Do you get pleasure from driving me insane?" he asked.

"The only pleasure I get from you is when you zip your lips," you hummed, "You talk and talk and talk but do you ever listen? Do you ever make an effort to listen to when others speak? Or are you truly the high and might piece of shit you present yourself as?"

A frown graced Elliott's lips, a deviance from his usual scowl towards you, "Do you really believe that? Do you really think I'm a bad person, (Y/N)?" he almost looked... heartbroken.

"I mean," you lowered your fighter stance, "I mean, the times I've seen you call Gus 'bartender' instead of his name?"

"It's a small joke between me and him," explained the writer, "I did it the first time I visited the saloon and he found it funny so on occassion, we exchange 'bartender' and 'sir' with one another."

"Okay," you sighed, "How about the fact that you only seem to talk about yourself? You're self-absorbed!" you spat out self-absorbed like a sword to his heart. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, "Oh... I'm sorry..." he sniffled. Your eyes widened at the sight of his tears and oddly enough, so did your cock.

"Don't fucking cry," you shook your head. Yet, that didn't stop the tears, as they rolled down his sharp cheeks and jaw. Fuck, you winced at the sensation of your dick against your boxers and jeans, "I said," you grabbed him by the cheeks and yacked him towards your face, your body pressed against his "Don't fucking cry."

More tears flowed down from Elliott's watery emerald eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck! you unintentionally fucked yourself over, as your boner made contact with his pelvis. Elliott's face morphed to a shade of tomato red, "D- Do- Did you just get a b- boner?" he stammered.

"Motherfucker," you freed his face from your falcon-like grasp and instead grabbed him by the hand. You scouted the festival zone for any onlookers and swiftly dragged Elliott to his cabin, "Open it," you commanded him. Without word, he inserted his key and unlocked the door, he then followed you into the cabin.

"Ugh, what a mess," you scoffed, as you examined the cabin's musty and cobweb infested state. Elliott wiped away his tears and asked you, "Why are we in my cabin?"

"Because," you pointed to your boner, "You're gonna fix the mess you made," which earned a dumbstruck look from the writer. Fuck, not him looking like the idiot he is! you felt your cock twitch at the sight, "So you gonna take care of it? Or am I gonna tell how much of a stupid crybaby you are?"

"I-" Elliott blinked back any remaining tears, "You're into people crying... what's stopping me from telling everyone that?" you rolled your eyes, "Won't you be a creep for telling everyone my kink, huh? For such a fancy schmancy writer like you claim to be, you sure are one hell of a dumbass."

More tears ensued, but you noticed something surprising; Elliott had a boner, too. You twisted your lips into a taunting smile, "You're into degradation, huh?"

Elliott quickly concealed his boner, "Wh- What, no, no, no I-" you cut him off with a finger against his lips, "I bet you jerked off every time we ran into one another, hm?"

"No," he answered, clamping down on his bottom lip.

"I know I'm an asshole and a freak, but you, Elliott?" in one swift motion, you had him pinned against the wall and your lips near his ear, "You're a dirty slut."

Elliott let out a groan and you felt his cock poke against yours, "Good boy," you chuckled and released your hold on him, "Now, either we leave now and risk public humiliation or we take care of our issues."

Elliott remained silent and gestured to his bed. You plopped down on it and sat still. The writer approached you and placed a surprisingly gentle hand on your cheek, "If we're going to do this," his forehead almost touched yours with how close he was, "Can you at least pretend to like me?"

"That can be arranged," you replied, replacing your smirk with a small smile, "I'll even throw in some kisses for you, how does that sound?"

Elliott nodded, "That's fine," he lowered his eyes to your lips, timid.

"Oh my Yoba, do I have to do everything?" you groaned and smushed your lips against Elliott's, kissing him feverishly. His moaning was muffled by the kissing, as you practically shoved your tongue down his throat. You kissed him like fire and ice, the cold indifference combined with the hot passion of the act itself.

"I gotta give it to you," you broke the kiss, much to Elliott's disappointment, "You taste good," the writer's cheeks flushed a deeper red, "I do?"

"Don't make me repeat myself," you spat. Elliott nodded dumbly, hands hovering above your thighs. You rose from the bed and pointed to your pants, "Take them off for me, pretty boy. I'm sure a dumb bitch like you is at least capable of that."

Elliott gulped and shifted towards your pelvis, knees on the ground and hands shaking while he unbelted and pulled down your pants. He stared at your cock, confined by your striped boxers. Annoyed by his delay, you snatched a fist full of Elliott's hair and tugged on it hard, "You know that I'm impatient."

Elliott's tears resumed at the sensation of his precious hair being pulled on so roughly, but he had to admit that the pain was a bit of a turn on. He pulled down your boxers, not wanting to make you more upset, and your cock sprung free from its prison, whacking Elliott in the face. Elliott recentered his focus and gawked at the sight of your exposed dick, his mouth watering.

"Yoba, are you really that desperate for my cock?" you teased, giving Elliott's hair another tug, "You're practically drooling for it like a bitch in heat," you playfully smacked your dick against Elliott's lips, "Open up, slut."

He opened his mouth, tongue out and eyes glossed over like the obedient man he was, "Good boy," you blew him a kiss and stuffed your cock inside, making him gag. A moan rattled through your vocal chords, "Shit, you got a great mouth," you cooed, "And Yoba, it's just a fucking blessing to see you- the next Ernest Hemingway, Pelican Town's beloved writer- in your right place, on your knees with a mouth full of filthy cock."

Elliott moaned shamelessly against your cock, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull from the vibrations. Soon, he began to suck it, his head slowly bobbing back and forth, as Elliott allowed more tears to escape his eyes. He felt your dick harden in his mouth when he started crying and resumed sucking.

Despite your hatred towards him, Elliott didn't really hate you back. In all honesty, he had a bit of crush on you. Sure, your cursing and impatience was a turn off, but the way you did the smallest acts of kindness like get Jas's jump rope out of a tree and relocating a spider to the outside from the saloon? Yoba, your soft side melted his heart.

Yet, here he was, mouth packed to the brim with his crush's cock and his own yearning for a release of its own. As Elliott slurped and gagged, he unzipped his pants and pulled his bottoms down enough to access his dick. He wrapped his hand around it and started stroking it, desperate for satisfaction.

"I bet you didn't think this would happen, huh?" you chuckled between moans, "I bet you're the kinda guy who only fucks after a nice candlelight dinner and sprinkles rose petals on your bed," Elliott tried to speak up, but his mind was too intoxicated from the lust and sensation of sloppy dick to say anything, "No need for that with me, though. I just want you as my personal fucktoy."

Elliott abruptly moaned, cum squirting from his cock and spraying the floor in white. A bit of cum got on your shoes and you removed Elliott's mouth from your cock, "You got cum on my fucking shoes!" you hissed to Elliott, "Clean it up."

Elliott reached to wipe it off with his shirt when you stopped him and held up your shoe to him, "With your mouth," his cock twitched at the command. With quivering lips, the writer stuck out his tongue and lapped the cum off your shoe, "I- I'm sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean to..."

"Oh, I know," you gave him a reassuring pat on the cheek, "But I can't get enough of how good of a listener you really are, you should do this more often.

Elliott pouted and you grinned, "We're not done yet, finish what you started," the writer nodded and continued giving you a blowjob. As he sucked, almost deepthroating you at this point, Elliott looked up at you with almost doe-like, innocent eyes. You covered your eyes with one hand and placed the other on the wall behind you to stabilize yourself, Don't be cute, stupid.

Your dick twitched in Elliott's mouth and your mind went blank, only the need to climax present. You grabbed the back of Elliott's head and thrusted into his mouth. Drool spilled from the writer's lips, as you fucked his face without care, his mind overwhelmed with thoughts, feelings, and sensations of you.

"Fuck!" you tried your best to remain quiet, as you shot your load down Elliott's throat. The writer let out a choked moan and swallowed your cum. Now flaccid, you removed your cock from his mouth and let out a satisfied sigh. Elliott collapsed on the ground and laid there, his face stained with tears and cum.

You dressed yourself and joined him on the floor, "That was actually fun," you stated, much to Elliott's surprise. You kissed him lightly on the lips, "You better clean yourself before you go back outside but," you wiped off some cum and tears from his face, "Maybe we can do this again."

Elliott raised his eyebrows and despite being fucked out of his mind, he couldn't help but ask you, "Again?" his heart fluttered at the possibility of a second... outing.

"Yeah," you paused, "Maybe you're not as bad as I thought you were," you left Elliott with those final words before exiting the cabin, leaving a semi-nude Elliott drooling alone.

[l-in-the-light]

Why does Law say he hates pirates doing good things in Wano?

Oh, yeah, that, it's been on my mind a lot as well. I partially rambled about it before, but this time I will try to answer it from multiple angles. Because when in doubt, there's one thing that will always come to rescue: analysis! I think the key to understanding that scene is putting it in the correct context.

This is how it all started. Law calls it a rebellion, which is something dangerous especially in the country as oppressed as Wano.

And then we have this scene, few chapters later. Luffy remembered what Law actually told him (he did pay attention!): this was rebellion, it will have consequences, and now Luffy takes it seriously and is worried about people in Okobore town. Law's answer is very interesting here, because it's kinda callback to the one you're asking about:

Those two frames are clearly connected to each other. This is my interpretation of why Law reacted so strongly:

Law knew this rebellion will have bad consequences, and while he mostly complains that it will bring troubles for their alliance and the future raid, he must have been aware already that the biggest backlash will fall on people of Okobore town for something Luffy did without thinking too much about it. And despite knowing that - he doesn't comment on it besides this little comment about "pirates doing nice things for people". He could have scolded Luffy here, tell him how his "good deed" will end and point out that it will be Luffy himself feeling sorry in the end, but... he didn't.

I think he wanted Luffy to see the consequences of his actions, to teach him a lesson (yes, he's trying to teach Luffy something about the world) while just watching over him. He could have just told him (and witness Luffy trying to beat everyone up to defend Okobore town), but that wouldn't make Luffy truly understand that as a pirate he can do whatever he wants and face no consequences: he can just escape from the country, meanwhile those poor folks at Okobore town are stuck living there all their lives and can't just run away. Sometimes doing the right thing isn't the most obvious thing you can do and you need to always think about consequences of your actions or you might do more harm than good.

That last panel is even more interesting because we have actually three different points of view there about what Luffy did: Law's "this doesn't seem right" reaction, Luffy's "We did something right!" and Kiku's "You did something wrong: stealing is wrong". This really shows how Wano arc is just so different from other arcs, kinda more mature in story (but still has stupid gimmicks, god bless Oda for that). Because what makes a good deed truly a good deed? When you're proud of yourself, thinking you helped but actually did it for your own sake (to repay a favour)? Or by abiding to higher morals: don't do right by having to do wrong first? Or making sure to keep in mind consequences of your actions as well, while not even caring to take the credit for the deed? That last one sounds to me like a definition of a hero and while that's Law's prefered answer here raises many interesting question marks. We know by now he idolizes Sora Warrior of the Sea after all.

Law's lesson here concludes. Luffy isn't even there with him, but Law stays firm in his belief, even if it means ignoring people in need at the moment. The lesson extends to the whole of Strawhats crew. Law instead tries to focus on the bigger picture, because one small rebellion is not gonna overturn the whole country so that people can finally live in a better place. Yeah, on the surface it looks contradictionary, Law seems not to care about innocents getting hurt, but he downplays it here because otherwise they will never liberate Wano, instead wasting their strength defending unfortunate folks everywhere and risking the raid getting exposed as the result. There's not always an easy choice to make when wanting to help people.

But that's not all there is to it. Do we still remember what Doflamingo did to Dressrosa? He pretended to be the good guy rescuing people oppressed by their own king, he pretended to liberate them, while it was all pre-arranged. It was also an example of a pirate "doing good thing", at least on the surface, and treated as a hero as the result. I bet it brings back bad aftertaste.

His expression in Wano is kinda similar to the one he makes here (the one in Wano is just not hidden from us, signaling Law is actually more keen on opening up instead of keeping it all bottled up). Let's remember Law didn't sail with Strawhats before Punk Hazard happened. All he knows by that point is what he learned most likely from newspapers. They cause chaos wherever they go. They rescue their friends (Enies Lobby, Sabaody, Arlong Park), even if it means going against Celestial Dragons or the whole World Government. He can't know about Alabasta, because that was officially declared as being Smoker's achievement (but if Doflamingo had his doubts about it then I bet Law had as well. Like teacher, like student). No one knows about Skypiea. Drum's Island was never reported. Why would Law expect pirates to rescue complete strangers and liberating whole nations like some kind of heroes? Why would actually anyone expect that and not be shocked and in disbelief? Even in One Piece universe, pirates aren't usually good people! But back to the Strawhats, everywhere they go they might end up helping, but the country is often left in ruin. Law probably thought Punk Hazard was some kind of exception, a whim, on Strawhats end. In Dressrosa he still expects Luffy to just scramble out of the country to save his own ass.

Law is so surprised that Luffy actually cares about Dressrosa. He even sold them the plan of going against Kaido to catch Luffy's interest, he told him kidnapping was just to cause chaos, it's all the compelling reasons aimed for someone who likes some disorder. And then Luffy drops him this bomb: he actually genuinely cares about what will happen to the country and that despite spending only half a day in it. Just few moments later Law will find out it was all because Luffy had a food debt to Rebecca. Coincidentally, food debt was also involved in Wano. If you put it all into context like that, it becomes clear why Law tries to teach Luffy a lesson about it. It's fine if he wants to repay the favour to people, but he needs to think of the consequences. There might be a better way of doing things to help folks. And even though Luffy has his problems accepting it, he eventually listens. He could leave Udon at one point but he doesn't, focusing on training instead, thinking this is the better option. Just before the raid the news about Okobore town getting burned to the ground reaches the Strawhats (which is also a direct consequence of Luffy's "rebellion"/good deed right from the beginning of the arc), but Luffy doesn't do anything about it. I would say it worked, Luffy did learn his lesson.

But wait a second, this is all working only basing it on assumption that Law actually cares about countries and innocents. He doesn't, right? He was the one to propose to leave the children behind in Punk Hazard, he's the one suggesting they should escape and leave Dressrosa to it's own fate. That's all true, but in Zou Law says something contradictory to that:

He's also the only one who reacts different than everyone else in the conclusion of Dressrosa:

His expression is almost the same as the one he had in flashback with Corazon. He's terrified, he thinks people of the D. are monstrous. Instead of looking at the people celebrating that the country is free again, he looks at all the rubble and destruction. But I don't think he thinks Luffy's a monster. He's probably a bit lost what to feel about all of this. Yes, the people were saved, but also yes, the country was completely destroyed as the result. There were probably better ways of handling the situation, but he won't criticize anyone outloud: he thinks he's also partially responsible for this result, after all (he's also a D. and he also fought Doflamingo alongside Luffy. He made his own choice that contributed to the overall conclusion).

But then which one is the truth? When Law says to forget the innocents getting hurt? Or when he scolds Luffy to care more about the country and the people in it? I would say: it's up to you to decide. Oda plants that line in his manga ever since Whitebeard did his speech at Marineford. What do you believe in?

I personally believe that Law cares for innocent people not getting hurt. I have my rational argument for that. It's the golden rule of One Piece: any character with their eyes hidden or obscured isn't completely honest (it's not 100% foolproof rule, but is very often true). When Law tells Luffy to forget Dressrosa, his eyes are shaded. In Zou, his eyes are clear like a cloudless sky when he expresses his worry about minks. That's the truth I choose, but I would choose it even if I didn't believe in that rule. Because I just want to believe Law when he says he cares, no matter if he started off with that belief or if it changed along the way while interacting with Strawhats.

Also there is a fun parallel with Law and Bonney going on, just look at it:

She's also reacting exactly like Law. "Who heard of a pirate helping people?!" doing disgusted face as well. Despite that, her personal view is "Don't help a soul (unless they really need it)!". There's also a contradiction here. Even around the Revolutionary Army Bonney is a bit torn, she's like "I trust you guys to take care of Daddy" but at the same time she's shocked or even uncomfortable when Sabo shows her kindness. Despite knowing that Kuma trusted revolutionaries she still couldn't react differently, expecting those strangers to act unkind. I think it's the result of her childhood. Besides few chosen people and her dad, everyone in the village avoided and feared her, also kids made fun of her, so Bonney is not really fond of strangers as the result. It's a sign of her trauma and both she and Law share it. He also heard ever since he was a child that he's a monster because of his disease and was avoided as the result, and it made him very avoidant and distrustful towards people in general. So is it that strange he also reacts the same way Bonney does? He just doesn't expect people to care all that much about strangers, because he also was a stranger once that no one (besides Cora-san) cared about. Neither of them might ever be open to strangers as the result or at least it will take them a huge effort to overcome their initial reactions and learn to trust people again.

Other possible reason factoring into his reaction is Law's possible low self-esteem. He never takes any credit for the good deeds he does. He might actually not like being a pirate all that much or think of himself highly because of it. Even though it's an anime-only extension, Law reacts very strongly when Sanji in Germa's suit says "I'm neither evil or righteous! I'm just a soba mask". It literally leaves him speechless. He probably never thought that it's even possible to think of things this way.

And we see in Wano that Law's moral code also isn't black and white. He was willing to risk the raid, the alliance even, just to save his own crew. That's always his priority and he would sacrifice anything as long as people dear to him are safe. Obviously he's smart so he must be aware of that contradiction in himself and I doubt he thinks of himself as hypocrite. But despite that, and despite everyone trying to stop Law from leaving and destroying everything they worked for, Shinobu is the one who curiously manages to stop him. She tells him this is their only chance to even try to win back their own country and that they prepared for it for 20 years. And that doesn't leave Law unaffected. He probably can relate to that, after all he had his plan against Doflamingo brewing for at least 10 years.

It's probably easier for him to care for other people when he can relate to them in some way. And as a result of this, he adjusts his plan to rescue his crewmates in such a way that doesn't actually destroy Akazaya Nine's efforts, proving yet again that he actually cares for people other than his crew. And we know he does, he did help the kids in Punk Hazard at the very end of the arc out of his own free will (they probably reminded him of kids in Flevance, also uncared for and sick, left to die), he did care about Dressrosa at the end of the day (it was the kingdom Cora-san wanted to save so of course it would matter to Law!), he cares for minks (they took care of his crew for quite a while, and also it's the homeland of his best friend Bepo), and he does care about Wano and the samurais, because he can also relate to their efforts and struggles.

But does it mean he overall believes himself to be a good person? It's likely that he doesn't. In the light novel he even calls himself pathetic and for things that are completely out of his control and aren't even his fault. When he says the line: "pirates doing good things disgust me" he's also making a statement about himself: he does good things, he's a pirate, he feels disgusted about himself. After all besides doing the things mentioned above, he also did steal hearts of 100 pirates at Rocky Port Incident (though we lack context of what exactly happened that lead to this outcome). And maybe that's why Luffy makes it such a big deal to repeat it all the time that he has faith in him, that Law is a good person. Because he might know that Law needs to hear it most of all.

I hope that sounds like a satisfying answer to you, anon! This is my best shot at this. Sorry it was late, but sometimes I just need to sit on it for a while so I can actually take the time needed to gather all the relevant scenes and my own thoughts all together.

[crimsonv1]

"Just Friends"

Jealous!Tim LaFlour x FEM!reader 

(This was a request from someone and I rlly loved the idea ! <33 :))

-

If Darryl hadn't introduced Tim to his snobby nemises, Tim wouldn't be in this predicament at all.

It wasn't until you started talking to him did Tim truly see him like Darryl did. It started with small things, like gifts or presents. Then it developed to walking to class, or sometimes even hanging out after school. Of course regularly friends do this, but Scott Thorpe wasnt regularly friends with people.

Tim felt like he was missing out somehow, whenever you used to walk with him to his classes- or compliment his piercings, and now you walked with Scott to classes, complimenting his neat-ness and clean behavior. Of course Tim still got to see you, whenever he could he'd go across his apartment to yours and hang out. 

So Tim had started to act more on you, following you wherever you went- or coming up to you more often.

It also wasn't until Darryl mentioned the problem did Tim really hate it. 

—----------------------

You grabbed your bag, and finished up getting ready before knocking on the wall. 

"Hey guys! I'm gonna head out alright, sorry we couldn't do movie night tonight I have - a meeting." 

Darryl and Tim came up to you while you said it, "I'll lock your apartment door. Also, with who?" Tim said while placing his poetry book to the side, and grabbing your keys when you tossed them to him

"Scott, we're gonna go eat at a nice restraunt down town then I'll be back." Darryl looked at you with a quick disgusted face "Scott? Don't you think that boy might be hitting on you?" He said with an exaggerated tone while Tim snapped his head towards him.

"No of course not! He's just my friend" 

"I don't know how you could be friends with that guy, he's rude, wealthy, and stuck-up" Darryl said remarking Scott.

"He's not rude to me-" 

"And that's him hitting on you." Darryl pointed. You just laughed and walked out of the door to your 'date'.

+TIM P.O.V

"Do you really think Scott's hitting on y/n?" Tim turned to Darryl while squinting

"Why? You worried?" Darryl laughed. 

"No- I just, yes. I'm worried, what if he treats her like shit or-"

Darryl chuckled while grabbing some bread and placing it in his mouth,

"I think that's not what you're worrying about, and don't worry he's not gonna steal ya' girl." Darryl said while sitting down. "Not, my girl." Tim huffed while he shrugged and walked off. "Hey are you trying a new cologne?" Darryl shouted "Yeah thanks man, how'd you know?"

"Had a hunch." Darryl went back to watching T.V

—-------------

The 'date' with Scott didn't end short at all, you two spent hours talking 'til midnight. "I don't understand why Darryl could hate you," You joked, "I'm too neat for his liking, talking about that- I have an appointment about now. I'll see my way out, this was really fun y/n." Scott checked his watch, and payed for the both of you. "Thanks Scott, it really was fun, also I just don't understand how you're always so organized, it's amazing." 

Scott laughed and mumbled something small before getting up and offering you his hand, leaving the two of you to go seperate ways.

Once you got back to your apartment you decided to turn around and knock on the shared room of your friends'.

Before you were about to leave it, Tim answered. 

"Y/n! How did the meet go?" 

"It went great, I just wanted to say- uh, I'm back!" You smiled, and Tim grabbed your arm before you could turn it around.

'fuck, fuck, fuck..' he thought hesitantly staring at you.."Can I be honest y/n?" "Of course Tim, anything" you sweetly smiled.

"I like you, I really, really like you. Alot. And I just don't know what to do, I feel like Scott is gonna do something- I just don't know y/n, all I know is I like you."

A silent moment before you responded. "Oh that's alright Tim! I'll never stop being your friend just because of Scott, mutual feelings." You looked at Tim with sincerity in your eyes,

"No y/n you don't understand- I.. I mean I love you." 

And before you could react, Tim pulled you in towards the doorway and kissed you. 

You didn't know what to think in the moment, absolutely flushed. He felt amazing, everything about him felt amazing, smelled amazing, and now you knew what he meant. 

And for some reason you couldn't remember anything after that kiss, 

–

""What- y/n- are you okay?!?" Tim grabbed your waist from behind before you almost collapsed on the ground, instead falling in his arms. 

"Did you kill her?" Darryl lazily walked out, obviously tired from awakening. "No I just- kissed her- and she passed out man!"

"I think that was her first kiss-" Darryl groaned

Tim's eyes lit up with excitement "really?"

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

-

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

-

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

-

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

-

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

-

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.

Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.

It'd cut deep, this one.

So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.

Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.

Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.

Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.

It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.

It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.

He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.

Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.

Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.

Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.

This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.

And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.

But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.

Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.

Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.

He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.

Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.

Because so much could've happened to prevent this.

His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.

And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.

She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.

Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.

The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.

The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.

But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.

It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.

"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"

Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.

"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.

Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.

He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.

And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.

It was the only viable explanation.

He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.

"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."

"Not good, ma. But he's home now."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."

"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"

Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.

It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.

She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.

So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.

The same way that she found comfort as a kid.

He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."

"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.

But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.

"Did he say anything?"

"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."

"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"

"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."

Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.

Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.

"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.

"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."

She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.

"He'll be home soon--I should take off."

"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.

As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.

It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.

And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.

"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."

Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.

"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."

Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.

The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.

"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."

He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.

"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"

"It's about one o'clock."

"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.

Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.

Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.

He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.

"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."

"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"

Your favorite son.

"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."

"That was their rationale?"

"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"

"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."

"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."

Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.

"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"

"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."

Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.

It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.

She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.

Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.

And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.

She never knew anything about her mother's passing.

Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.

"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."

His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.

Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.

"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"

"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"

"Well, she's always been unpredictable."

"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.

"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"

She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.

And Jax was sick of it.

Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.

"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."

"Where?" Chibs demanded.

But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.

It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.

It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.

He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.

But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.

And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.

He had to intercept.

He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.

But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.

"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.

He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.

Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.

But she wasn't scared.

Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.

Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.

It was horrible. Sick.

She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.

The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.

Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.

If it hadn't already, that was.

She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.

And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.

But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.

Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.

She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.

"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.

It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.

The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.

Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.

"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.

The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.

"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"

"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"

His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.

She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.

"Let me clean you up."

"You don't gotta--"

"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."

Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.

Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.

Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.

"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.

"I walked--"

"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."

She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"

"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.

Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."

Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.

"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."

"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."

"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."

"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."

Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.

"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.

The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.

"I like the pain."

"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.

Why he would do this to himself tonight.

"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.

"You think I got a pretty face?"

"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.

She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.

"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."

"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."

She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.

The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.

"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"

"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.

It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.

"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.

"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."

Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.

Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.

He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.

She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.

"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.

Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.

But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.

Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.

"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."

"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."

God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.

Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"

"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.

He didn't.

"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"

"You can still be a crier, too."

"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."

"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."

"You think?"

He nodded.

"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."

"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."

"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.

Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.

But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.

"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."

"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."

"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."

He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.

"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."

"You feel it?"

"Tonight?"

"In general."

She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.

Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.

And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.

"All the time. All the fuckin' time."

"It really never goes away?"

"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."

"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."

"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."

"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.

Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.

"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.

"Does it make me look hot, too?"

"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"

"I've had them before, y'know?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."

He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"

"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"You couldn't even if you tried."

"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."

What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.

Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.

Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.

"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.

Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.

Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.

"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."

She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.

Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.

"Tig?"

"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.

Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.

"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.

It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.

She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.

Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.

"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."

[raidenmahboi]

Mk characters as sad love songs for their s/o

Raiden

Let Her Go - Passenger

"well you only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the the sun when it starts to snow."

"only hate the road when you're missing home, only know you love her when you let her go. And you let her go"

"you see her when you close your eyes, maybe one day you'll understand why. Everything you touch surely dies."

"well you see her when you fall asleep, but never to touch and never to keep. Cause you loved her too much and you dived too deep"

Raiden has always stood by the whole "not getting attached to humans" thing, that was until he met you. He were beautiful, calm, reassuring, and loving towards him. But he couldn't be with you. He was the protector of earthrealm and he would have no time for you. He knew that. He knew his feeling were strong for you but not until you were actually gone forever did he realize that he was truly in love with you. He sees you in his dreams, when he closes his eyes, in the stars, in the clouds, and even in the lightning he strikes of his own hand. But you weren't there, not anymore. It was too late for him, he lost you and there's nothing he can do about it now.

Fujin

It Will Rain - Bruno Mars

"there's no religion that could save me, no matter how long my knees are on the floor. So keep in mind all the sacrifices I'm making. Wil keep you by my side, will keep you from walking out the door"

"cause there'll be no sunlight, if I lose you baby. There'll be no clear skies, if I lose you baby."

"and just like the clouds my eyes will do the same. If you walk away, everyday it'll rain, rain, rain."

"I'll pick up these broken pieces til I'm bleeding if that'll make you mine"

You loved fujin with all your heart. He was the perfect man for you. He treated you well, respected you, and loved you but he was a god. And you're parents didn't want you with him because of the dangers he could put you in. You didn't want to leave but you had to. He begged for you to stay with him, he loved you too much. But you had no choice, with tears in your eyes you left and to no surprise it rained for a straight week and the White Lotus.

Hanzo Hasashi

Here Without You - Three Doors Down

"A hundred days have made me older, since the last time that I saw your pretty face"

"A thousand lies have made me colder, and I don't think I can look at this the same"

"I'm here without you baby, but your still on my lonely mind"

"I'm here without you baby, but you're still with in my dreams. And tonight, it's only you and me"

After Hanzo loses you he becomes somber and crawls deep into his hole again. You were his new start. He was finally able to fall in love again after Harumi and then he lost you. He won't try to look for love again, he won't even attempt. He doesn't want to feel this pain in his chest anymore. So he closes himself off and goes on with life. This doesn't stop him from dreaming about you though. (I feel like this one has a little more to do with Harumi)

Kuai Liang

Colder Weather - Zac Brown Band

"I wanna see you again but I'm stuck in colder weather. Maybe tommorow will be better, can I call you then?"

"She said you're a ramblin man, you ain't ever gonna change. You got a gypsy soul to blame and you were born for leaving"

"well it's a winding road, when your in the lost and found. You're a lover I'm a runner, and we go round and round."

"and I love you but I leave you. I don't want you but I need you. You know it's you that calls me back here baby"

"colder weather" represents commitment. I feel like it would be hard for kuai liang to go into a relationship quickly. He was raised all his life that love gets in the way, so it would be difficult for him but once he finds you he sees the beauty of love and can't let you go. But once he gets to you it's too late. You were gone and he missed his once in a lifetime opportunity.

Erron Black

Neon Moon - Brooks and Dunn

"when the sun goes down on my side of town, that lonesome feeling comes to my door and the whole world turns blue"

"I got a table for two, way in the back where I sit alone and I think of losing you"

"No telling how many tears I've sat here and cried. Or how many lies that I've lied. Telling my poor heart, she'll come back some day"

"If you lose your one and only, there's always room here for the lonely, to watch your broken dreams dance in and out of the beams of a neon moon"

You told him that if he went back to his wrong ways one more time you would leave him. He would go back over and over again yet you still forgave him but this was the last time. And of course he did it again believing you wouldn't leave yet you did. So now he was at an old bar in outworld drinking underneath a neon moon while thinking about you realizing he made a huge mistake. "Neon moon represents and neon sign usually found in a bar.

Johnny Cage

When I Was Your Man - Bruno Mars

"same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now. Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same"

"my pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways caused the good strong women like you to walk out my life. Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made. Oh oh and it haunts me everytime I close my eyes"

"although it hurts, I'll be the first to say, I was wrong. I know I'm probably much too late to try and apologise for my mistakes but I just want you to know"

"I hope he buys you flowers, I hope he holds your hand, give you all his hours when he has the chance. Take you to every party cause I remember how much you loved to dance. Do all the things I should've done when I was your man"

Johnny is at the height of his fame and you were his girlfriend. But all he ever did was go out with other celebrities and make his movies and go to interviews. He never really made time for you, he was too busy soaking up all the praises of the people who thought he was eye candy. You loved him, yes but you just couldn't take it anymore so you left. At first johnny didn't really mind it but after a while coming home to no one, nobody sleeping next to him, he knew he made a big mistake. After a while he started see all the things he didn't do with you after seeing you with someone. It hurt him alot but seeing you happy was the only thing that mattered.

[masc-reader-insertss]

carnival

@snekintheeye asked: Kia ora! Hi! Could I request an Alexei x reader, where reader is a cop (thought to be a toxic manly man) that finds an injured Alexei at the Carnival and just fluff accepting vibes all around?? S3 killed me, my dude :'))

this took much longer than it should have oof, here you go:>

——

y/n could never seemed to catch a break. being a cop was a way to help people, and it hadn't been panning out like that so far, especially this summer. physical strength had always been one of y/n's advantages, he'd thought people would feel safe when they saw him. despite what his appearance gave off, y/n wasn't a tough guy. he cried at sappy movies, halloween was his least favourite time of the year, and he was still afraid of the dark. no one saw that when they looked at him, and y/n hated it. he hated the looks he would get when he was on patrol, he hated that no matter what he tried he always seemed to intimidate people. no matter what he tried, he could never shake the reputation of the intimidating cop that everyone seemed to be wary of.

he hadn't done anything to warrant this reputation either. he'd never never hurt a fly, anyone who knew him personally could vouch for that, people in hawkins just weren't used to seeing some tough looking big city cop in their small town. because of this unspoken reputation, he was mostly stuck with security, his presence was enough to ward off any would be delinquents easily, and today was no different. mayor kline's fourth of july fun fair. his task was simple enough, patrol around the ground and make sure no one was getting up to anything illegal, nothing out of the ordinary. he'd expected tonight to be like any normal night, and it seemed as if it would be, till he'd decided to take a quick look behind some of the stalls to make sure no one had decided to try and hide away from any prying eyes.

it was coming closer to the end of the night with every stall he checked, and y/n was getting ready to head back to his set round when he'd noticed someone propped against a food stall. "you can't be behind.." his voice trailed off as he got a better look at the person, a man, and he was clearly heavily injured, if the copious amount of blood staining his shirt was anything to go by. "shit- what happened to you?" y/n knelt down beside the man, pressing his hand against the source of the blood. how someone had gotten an injury like this at a carnival was beyond him, but that besides the point right now. "what on earth happened to you?" he asked, letting out a quiet sigh when all he got was intelligible mumbling from stranger. reaching for his radio, y/n went to call for backup a confused frown forming on his face when the injured man, who somehow hadn't passed out from the blood loss yet, grabbed his hand to stop him.

"i'm just calling for backup-" y/n didn't get to finish his sentence before he was being interrupted. "listening-" from his accent y/n could immediately tell this guy wasn't from around here, or anywhere remotely close to here for that matter, he probably didn't speak much english either. "who's listening?" y/n moved his hand away from the radio to place it on top of the already bloodstained one trying to stop the wound from bleeding, applying as much pressure as he could muster. the man pointed towards the wound, looking up at y/n, and he understood immediately. "the people who did this to you?" he asked, looking away for a moment when he got a nod in response. this was not how he'd expected tonight to go.

"okay.. i'm gonna get you help, alright? I'm not leaving you alone, and we can't use the radio, so.." they were fast running out of options, and y/b could see the stranger growing weaker with every passing minute. for a moment he hesitated, he'd never thought he'd have to deal with anything like this, but he knew he had to act quickly if there was any chance of this guy surviving. quickly he moved to pull off his uniform shirt, shivering a little at the abnormally cold summer night wind that hit him as he was left in just his singlet and pants. "you need to keep pressure on this, okay? i'll get you help, i promise" his words probably did nothing to calm the bleeding man since y/n was sure he couldn't understand him, but he was sure the other got the jist of it when he pressed the shirt against his wound and moved to press his hands against it before pulling away.

peaking his head out from behind the stall, y/n couldn't see any way that wouldn't draw attention to them, and he couldn't call for help either. if y/n couldn't find a way out soon, this man was going to die. y/n was starting to loose hope, until he spotted a jacket strewn across the back of a carnival stall. they might not have been able to get out without being seen, but they could get out without being noticed. reaching out to grab the item of clothing, y/n made a mental note to try and find the owner to replace the jacket, but there were more pressing matters to attend to.

slipping the jacket over the injured mans shoulders and pulling up the hood, he wrapped one arm around him, looking down at him. "think you can stand?" he asked, keeping his arm firmly wrapped around him so he could lean against him as he stood. "keep your head down and lean against me. the only way we're getting out of here is if no one spots you" the stranger let out more unintelligible murmurs and y/n took that as a cue to start walking, making sure to go slow enough to accomodate for the others injuries. despite being in such a huge crowd, the two were almost invisible, not a single person paid attention to them as they walked around, to ingested in the activities of the night. it was perfect for them, and after a painstaking five minuets of walking, y/n finally reached into his pocket to pull out the keys to his car.

with much effort, y/n was able to get the other into the car, and he'd never been so grateful for the sirens as he turned them on to excuse his extreme speed. who knew how much time they had left. "i'm guessing you have no idea what i'm saying, but could you at least tell me your name?" y/n asked, looking in the mirror to check back on the man slowly bleeding out in his back seat. when he spoke up, y/n almost couldn't hear him from how quiet his voice had gotten, but he was able to pick up "alexei" and y/n gave a small nod. they were less than two minuets from the hospital now, thanks to y/n's speeding. "alright then alexei, i'm y/n. mind telling me how you ended up in that situation?" there was silence, and y/n felt his entire body heat up with fear for a moment as he thought that they hadn't made it in time, but when he looked at the mirror again he realised that alexei merely hadn't understood him, and he let out a breath of relief. with that, they pulled up to the hospital, and y/n couldn't recall a time in his life where he'd run any faster, even during his academy days, but he'd burst through the doors of that hospital with such force it made his legs ache.

"we need help- he's been shot, he's lost a lot of blood" was all he could say, the adrenaline had really kicked in now, and it wasn't till he was left pacing around the waiting room that he realised he was covered in blood. there'd been an uncomfortable silence since the moment y/n had begun pacing, and he knew that all these people seeing him like this probably didn't do anything to help his reputation, but he really couldn't have cared less at that moment. it felt like hours had passed when someone had finally called out his name. he'd about paced a hole in the floor by that point. despite having known this man for less than twenty four hours, every passing minute without any word from him made him grow even more worried.

"how is he?" y/n asked, nails pressed firmly into his palms as he waited for any news, he was prepared for the worst, it had really seemed they'd gotten here with not a second to spare. "he's awake, very disoriented and, he can't tell us much but, he'll live" the doctor gave a soft smile as she spoke and y/n would have hugged her if he weren't covered in dried blood. "he's been asking for you though" those words made y/n look back at the doctor in front of him, eyebrows raised in confusion. "he has?"

she nodded, motioning for y/n to follow her as she lead him towards a room. "yes, you're all he's really talked about. i think he wants to thank you" y/n could feel a smile creep onto his face at that, and that smile stayed as he made his way into the room, taking a seat next to the bed. "told you i'd get you out" and it was clear that alexei still had no idea what he was saying, but he smiled none the less, and y/n thanked any higher power that was listening that he decided to look behind those stalls. "you're not from here, are you" y/n asked, leaning against the arm rest of the chair. there was silence again, and y/n took that as confirmation.

this was not how y/n had expected the night to go, and he almost couldn't believe that for the first time he'd actually /saved/ someone. y/n was startled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his arm, and he looked up to see alexei giving a small, tired smile. "thank you" he spoke, his thick accent making it much harder to understand. y/n gave a smile though, looking back at alexei. "no need to thank me, i couldn't just leave you there. just doing my job"   of course y/n would have done the same thing regardless if it was his job or not, he hoped any person would. despite the language barrier, y/n could tell that alexei was truly thankful that y/n had stepped in when he had. both of them knew what very well could have happened if he hadn't decided to check behind those stalls, not that they wanted to think about it.

for the first time in his career, y/n felt like he'd actually helped someone, and for the first time y/n felt like his reputation didn't matter. he could only hope this was the start of something new.

[bobasheebaby]

91 Lucifer prompts

Some of my favorite quotes from my favorite devil. (Cut at 15 cause it’s long.)

Lucifer Morningstar

1 “People don’t arrive broken. They start with passion and yearning until something comes along that disabuses them of those notions.”

2 “People don’t have power over us. We give it to them.” 

3 “The best thing to do is always to follow your greatest desire.”

4 “Sometimes we are what we are, and we should embrace that.”

5 “Desire shouldn’t be contained, it’s unnatural.” 

6 “Why do humans think they can rectify one evil with another?”

7 “Life’s too short to hold grudges.”

8 “Believe me, there is no winning when you play by a twisted tyrant’s rules.” 

9 “You shouldn’t have to change for anyone. And neither should I.” 

10 “I refuse to be a scapegoat for which something I bear no responsibility. It’s a theme in my life.”

11 “Trust me, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know evil.”

12 “If you desire something, just take it.”

13 “Trust me, if there’s one thing I know, it’s desire.”

14 “What I hate more than anything is a liar, a charlatan, someone who doesn’t believe in what they say.”

15 “Hell truly hath no fury like a man/woman scorned.”

16 “No one gives us the right… we take it.”

17 “Mmm, dangerous. NAME likes.”

18 “There was immediate danger. He/she was about to leave this man/woman completely unsatisfied.”

19 “When in doubt, go with the classics. That’s what I always say.”

20 “Guilt is such a useless emotion”

21 “Take a swing and I’ll shove that so far up your ass, you’ll have splinters in your stool.”

22 “What makes us vulnerable is often right under our noses.”

23 “Now tell me, what is it that you truly desire?”

24 “Well, maybe it’s like butt stuff. Easier the second time around.”

25 “It’s always the ones you least suspect, the ones you trust the most, that hurt you. They wait until your guard is down and then wham! In my case, it was tequila.”

Chloe Decker

26 “It’s better to move forward than stay stuck in the past.” 

27 “We can’t control what happens to us only how it affects us and the choices we make.”

28 “You have to stop taking responsibility for things that you can’t control.” 

29 “Sometimes we get along best with the people we’re most different from.”

30 “Pull yourself together. You look like a homeless magician!”

31 “It’s really not a good day for… your… NAMEness”

32 “You don’t save a marriage by sleeping with other people.”

33 “If you go looking for loopholes, you’ll always find them.”

34 “NAME’s not another guy/gal. He’s/She’s a weirdo.”

35 “As any parent knows, the best time to get things done is when everyone else is asleep.”

36 “I wasn't afraid of you.”

37 “I don't want you to see me like this. I know it scares you.” “No, that's... that's what I was trying to tell you. I'm not... I'm not afraid of you anymore.” “You're not?” “You see, this is what I'm talking about. It's so sweet. I'm going to puke.”

38 “I miss him/her. I mean, he/she pisses me off all the time. And there are so many things about him/her that ... that I find hard to accept, but I just have to believe I can find a way. Because ... I'd rather have him/her in my life than not.” “Well, then... I think you know what you need to do.”

39 “You're different than me. You're stronger. You could have run, but you didn't. Why didn't you?”

40 “It's not like you haven't always told me the truth. You know? So ... I think, deep down, I just ... I always knew.”

41 “Let's pretend for one second that you're someone else. Someone nice, someone mature.” “Ooh, I love role-play.”

42 “What, you're just gonna leave me here? In this part of town?” “You said you wanted danger.”

43 “Please tell me I'm hallucinating.” “Well, I am dreamy, but try to contain yourself.”

44 “You step out of line one time …” “You can give me a right-good spanking, I promise.”

45 “This cannot be true. Can it? I mean ... if you knew this, why wouldn't you say something? I mean, I almost married him/her. I mean, I almost married him/her.” “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen.”

46 “Oh, my God. Did the world just turn upside down? Did you just admit to being wrong?”

47 “You know, it can be scary sometimes, but ... being who you really are is never a bad idea.”

48 “I need you to stay here and watch your dad/mom.” “That's true. Without the two of us, he’s/she's defenseless.” “I don't know if I like what you're whispering about.”

49 “How long have I been out?” “Three years.” “What?!” [NAME starts laughing] “You’re such an ass.”

50 “I couldn't sleep last night, so I stayed up all night working, and, you know, I drank a lot of caffeine. Like, a lot.”

Mazikeen Smith

51 “If you go by someone else’s pace, it shows how much you really care.”

52 “Sometimes you have to accept when someone doesn’t feel the same way about you.” 

53 “Self-worth comes from within, bitches.” 

54 “I would never ask you to change. I like who you are.” 

55 “Hey! No one calls my skank a skank.” 

56 “Good. It's settled. Now, where do I put my knives.”

57 “Okay. One, I like to fight when I'm happy or ... horny. And, two, I really don't want to accidentally kill my best friend.”

58 “Maybe next time, I won't be around to save your ass.” “Mm! Well, that is a shame. 'Cause you and my backside used to get on very well. My front side, as well, actually.”

59 “And your name?” “NAME.” “How do you spell that?” “Surprise me.” [Later gets coffee with "WRONG NAME" on it]

60 “Everything that happened showed me exactly why I need to go back.” “I don't understand.”

Linda Martin

61 “Emotions are hard, but that’s why they make you strong.” 

62 “Goodness isn’t a toy.”

63 “Sometimes we need to lose something to understand its value.”

64 “Sometimes it’s easier to make intimate issues about something bigger than yourself.” 

65 “I find people who are rude usually feel powerless in their own lives. Terrified of not being in control.”

66 “Look... I know I'm not dad/mom, or partner or whatever. But I ...” “No. No, you're not. Come here. You are Uncle/Auntie NAME. And you will always ... be a member of this family.”

67 “Let's talk about what you're dealing with emotionally.” “Yeah, I really don't want to.”

68 “Why is he:she able to refuse my charms? I mean, is this thing on?” [points at him/herself] “Yes, yes. Definitely on.”

69 “How's that saying go? We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking up at the stars.”

70 “Should've seen that one coming.”

Amenadiel

71 “We need the most love when we’re being most unlovable.” 

72 “No matter how bad things get, the true test is how we choose to respond to the pain. We suffer, or inflict.”

73 “Cosmos are yummy.”

74 “If you really want to know if you’re a worthy romantic partner, ask yourself.”

75 “NAME. What are you doing here? Did you hurt NAME?” “Only when he/she asked me nicely.”

Ella Lopez

76 “Whenever I’m procrastinating on something, I make an appointment for myself to do it. That way, can’t back out.”

77 “You see what I'm dealing with?”

78 “Hey. No one insults my family, except for me.”

79 [high on "candy"] “I know I should be freaking out right now, but your hair is so shiny.”

80 I'm usually not into reality shows either. I prefer more, you know, scripted-content, documentaries, but... I've got a little extra time these days, so... sort of kind of watched, uh, 27 seasons in two weeks.

Dan Espinoza 

81 “We all need someone to have our backs every now and then.”

82 “Ooh, lemon bars. My favorite. Mmm. Oh, man, these are amazing. Who made 'em?” “Uh, NAME did. Would you believe that hunk bakes?” [spits out the bars] “On second thought, who needs the empty calories?”

83 “Say you fall in love with a man/woman who has a cat. What are you gonna do? You accept the cat.” 

84 “Are you sleeping with this idiot?” “He/She hasn't had the pleasure, unfortunately, no.”

85 “Dude, I cannot deal with your weirdness right now.”

Trixie Espinoza

86 “We’re wearing the same shirt!” [both] “Sushi shirt!” [from around the corner] “I don’t know what’s going on out there, but I hate it!”

87 “I ate it.” “Mm-hmm.” “But NAME said it was okay.” “Oh, really?” “He/She said, if you really want to do something, you should. And I really wanted to eat some chocolate cake.”

88 “Are you looking at a no-no site?” “No. Why would you think that?” “Because you put it away so fast, and you look really, really guilty.”

89 “NAME, sever their Achilles first. If they can't walk ...” “They can't betray you.”

90 “You need to get a thicker skin. Stand up for yourself, because the truth is, nobody’s gonna do it for you.” — Charlotte Richards

91 “Anybody worth dating should understand everything that makes you … you.” — Ev

[punkscowardschampions]

Amelia & Jac

Amelia: [okay so I'll put here what we said, for Jac's 18th Savannah sent her some flowers and Amelia binned them, obviously a big fight ensued and they haven't interacted from then in September to now which is nearly Christmas until Amelia sends her a christmas gift of the gay book with a portrait of Jac inside that'll just fall out when she picks it up and a chanel lipstick of some cute shade or other] Jac: [my vibe was if it was left on the step, leaving the book out there and taking the lipstick to send a message 'cos assumedly we'll walk past at some point as we live central] Amelia: [love that] Jac: If you were gonna take it upon yourself to decide I didn't want Savannah's gift, you should have also realised the same rule would apply to yourself Amelia: maybe Jac: No, you should have Jac: you wasted your money and time Amelia: I've got nothing else to do with either, so it hardly matters Jac: I'm not your distraction Jac: leave me alone Amelia: no, you're way more than that Amelia: but okay Jac: I don't have the energy for this Amelia: I didn't do this to force a conversation with you Jac: right Amelia: you're right, I shouldn't have got you anything Jac: you really shouldn't Jac: I don't want anything from you Amelia: alright, message received Jac: for fuck's sake Amelia: What do you want me to say? Amelia: it's been months, I miss you, I hate this Jac: You're about a lifetime too late for any of this Jac: things change Amelia: just go then Jac: Don't tell me what to do Jac: you haven't even apologized Amelia: because you're the only one who can tell me what I should or shouldn't do, okay then Jac: I declined your gift because I don't fucking want it Jac: that's my decision Jac: you can't force it on me Amelia: like it was my decision to get you one, even if you don't fucking want it Amelia: like it's my decision not to apologise when I'm not sorry Jac: it wasn't your decision to make Amelia: I know that Jac: She reached out to me Jac: and you ruined it Amelia: she didn't reach out, it was a cop out Jac: she remembered Jac: she didn't have to do anything Amelia: she didn't do anything Amelia: not even sign her name Amelia: fuck's sake,  and you're mad at ME for my lack of apology Jac: Yes she did, she sent my favourite flowers Jac: and yes I'm fucking mad at you, you don't even know what you started Amelia: at least hold her to the same standard Jac: No, because you aren't the same Jac: and this gift meant something to me, the gesture did Jac: and you couldn't stand that so you took it away Amelia: the false hope meant something to you Amelia: of course I can't stand that Jac: there's nothing false about it Jac: she was never here for my birthday before, not as my friend, she had no reason to remember, I'm blocked on anything that would tell her Amelia: because it's so hard to get around being blocked Jac: so, that would just prove she cared enough to look Jac: either way, that meant something Amelia: it doesn't mean she's coming back Amelia: or dumping her boyfriend Jac: it still means more to me than anything you could ever give or do Jac: so you deal with that Amelia: I can't Jac: You'll find my sympathy running a bit low Amelia: that's how I always find it Jac: I don't have the space in my head or my life to care about you Jac: alright, and I've never said different Amelia: yeah you have Jac: when? Jac: a million years ago when we were kids Jac: life's moved on from then Amelia: this year, things have happened that mean something, you've made space for me and cared about me Amelia: I don't need words, you lie whenever you speak anyway Amelia: and yeah, that's how long it's been, that's she's been gone and I've been here for you Amelia: you can't deal with that any better than you're telling me I have to Jac: I've only cared about myself Jac: that's facts Jac: you've been of some use and that's about as deep as it gets Jac: ask anyone, Amelia Amelia: No Jac: Yes Amelia: you love to make me look and feel crazy but I'm actually not Jac: because normal people throw other people's presents away Amelia: you know why I did Jac: and normal people let themselves be treated like this Jac: yeah, you're so right Amelia: there's a massive gap between normal and the levels of delusional you're trying to make me out to be right now Jac: I'm not trying to make you out to be anything Jac: I'm trying to get you to leave me alone, at best Amelia: and I've said I will Jac: then go Amelia: [does] Amelia: [gonna take this moment to tell you what the book is, We Are Okay by Nina LaCour it's obvs gay and YA again but we've lost the optimism of the previous Christmas because this one is about grief and loss and loneliness, basically this girl leaves her life behind without saying a word (again to go to college lol) after her grandad dies but then her friend who she's in love with and who I think is straight comes to visit her there so she gotta start dealing with all her shit, very apt Amelia well done. I think it does have a happy ending for said main character based on the title but not a fluffy one and she isn't getting with that friend I'm p sure] Amelia: [In clearer terms, this is a book about Marin, a girl who has lost her grandfather, and in doing so, pushed away her former best friend, Mabel. So when Mabel comes to town, Marin does not know what to do with the memories. Marin at once does not want Mabel here, regrets her being here, but also desperately wants Mabel to love her. She has walls up and she wants them down, but she is too terrified for them to ever come down. Marin has lost everything, including Mabel, her best friend and her maybe-something-more.  But it’s not a romance between Marin and Mabel. That is what is perhaps the saddest part. I once saw Nina LaCour talk live about this book, and she said something that perfectly sums up what is so arresting about this book: being queer and in love with your best friend is different than being straight and in love with your best friend. One is an experience in first love, and one is also that, but with an added experience of fear – not of rejection but of disgust. We do not want to hurt our best friends by loving them. We have learned to be ashamed of love and we carry that with us, through thick and through thin. BYE] Jac: [well, v on the nose, soz we won't be reading that hun and we didn't read the last one, so rude] Amelia: [maybe years from now bitch you will and you'll see what we were trying to give you] Jac: [perhaps but clearly not this one as it has essentially washed away lmao] Amelia: [something v poetic about a book about grief and loss and loneliness getting left on the step to disintegrate, when this is a film or netflix show I'll be v smug] Jac: [truly, the drama of it all] Jac: [setting it on fire is so last year, anyway, my thought is Amelia sees Jac and Jesse out somewhere but not out out like somewhere boring and every day which is confusing as it was to the fam 'cos she knows she's not talking or hanging out with them so she's like hmm] Amelia: [good idea but I don't know how I'm gonna be like oi what are you doing when it's none of your business hen LOL] Jac: [Jesse could talk to her 'cos we've established doesn't take a hint and it's like the most awkward] Amelia: [yeah because they are gonna be lowkey friends off and on even though she said they weren't after the vday thing last year so and maybe she asks about his gig he's meant to be doing or whatever cos he would've had to announce he ain't doing it on socials and everything like] Jac: [Jac just casually snapping at her like mind yo business Amelia] Amelia: [I'll pick the convo up after that fun little interaction then] Jac: [when you shoulda said nothing but it came out henny] Amelia: Don't talk to me like that Jac: Don't talk to my brother how's that Amelia: redundant Amelia: because I'll talk to him whenever I like as long as he's not the one upset about it Jac: Yeah, you've established you're a liar before now Amelia: No, we've established I have nothing to gain by keeping any promises to you Jac: and I give a fuck about what you wanna take from me Jac: you need to disappear, I don't want you in my life now, not even peripherally Amelia: I don't wanna take anything from you and I'm not Amelia: but disappearing isn't an option for a bit Jac: Contradict yourself immediately, it's really not a waste of my time Amelia: You're wasting your own time by continuing to have a go at me Amelia: when school's over we'll both be leaving, until then we're both stuck Jac: It wouldn't be a waste of time if you actually listened Amelia: likewise Jac: to what? Amelia: me obviously Jac: you have nothing I've ever wanted to hear Jac: and you're continuing to talk more bullshit now Jac: literally, mind your own business, it should not be hard Amelia: neither should getting your head around the concept that me talking to Jess isn't about you Jac: he isn't your friend Jac: he's my brother, I trump any kind of connection you had or wanna have for whatever sad reason Jac: so yeah, fuck off Amelia: if you want to make him choose, give him your bullshit ultimatum, I won't be Jac: No, you leave us alone Jac: it's like having a fucking stalker Jac: I am sick of the sight of you Amelia: I have left you alone like you asked Amelia: he's asked me to do no such thing Jac: You're pathetic Jac: get some friends of your own and you wouldn't have to cling on to someone being civil towards you Amelia: I've heard it all before Jac: then take the hint Jac: I'm so fed up of you and your moping Amelia: then take the 'advice' you're trying to give me and fuck off Jac: you see me coming, you should turn the other way Jac: I did not need to see you today, fuck's sake Amelia: yeah, I'll turn my desk around too, get back into detention, it has been a while Amelia: I wasn't looking for you, I don't want to see you either Jac: then it's in your best interest to run when you see Jesse coming then Jac: so glad you reached the logical conclusion, try to do it at the time next time, tah Amelia: bye then Jac: you're unbelievable Jac: you don't even feel remotely bad for what you've done Amelia: of course I fucking do Jac: bullshit Amelia: No it's not Amelia: but I'm not going to sit here and type out how and why I feel like shit when it means nothing Jac: you aren't sorry, you said, and you've not made any kind of attempt to actually make amends, not that you can now, it's too late Jac: it's all about how you feel and that you miss me and whatever else Jac: you don't care what I've been through Amelia: I'm not sorry for 🗑💐 but I'm sorry for hurting you Amelia: and that this means I'm not there now for whatever is happening Amelia: like you said, it's too late now Amelia: and like you also said, even if I was there, it's not good enough anyway so Jac: because this isn't some soppy book you read Jac: you aren't gonna save me and it'll all be happily ever afters Jac: this is real life and it's so much bigger than all this Jac: shit that you care about Amelia: yeah, it's my real life too Jac: none of this is real Jac: you're putting off getting one by kidding yourself that this will ever happen Amelia: it is to me Jac: just wait Jac: you'll find out soon enough Jac: this is nothing, all of it Amelia: maybe to you Jac: no fucking maybe Jac: you're a child, your problems are childish Jac: that's factual and I can't pretend to entertain it now Amelia: then don't Amelia: my problems aren't the same as yours because I'm not you any more than I could be Savannah fucking Moore, but guess what, it's not a competition Jac: they're non-existent Amelia: No, they exist, same as I do Amelia: but you don't have to bother about them or me Jac: Get over yourself, Amelia Jac: people have real shit going on, real stuff to deal with Jac: and you want anyone to care about your self-inflicted, whiney, entitled bullshit Jac: for what? 'cos you're an AMAZING friend, yeah, you don't use everything to your advantage or make it all about you Amelia: not really, I want you get away from me like you keep saying you want Jac: I didn't send you a present, loser Amelia: I didn't start a conversation about it Amelia: or keep this one going Jac: because you should feel fucking bad about what you did and you don't Jac: not even an eighth of what I do Amelia: I do feel bad, what do you want me to do to prove it, kill myself? For fuck's sake Jac: yeah good idea Amelia: nothing is good enough for you Amelia: you'd even twist that into something it isn't Jac: fucking try it Jac: I don't want you around Amelia: okay Jac: my life is ruined Jac: you don't get to be okay, you don't get to care about your pathetic crush Amelia: you don't get to tell me what to do or how to feel because your life is ruined Jac: Yes I do Amelia: No you don't Jac: really 'cos you've been pretty easy to manipulate this far Jac: don't act as if you've had say in anything Jac: that's about the only use you have had Amelia: well it's over, all of it Jac: call it like it hasn't been for months on my say so Jac: what is the point of you being alive, actually Amelia: I don't know Amelia: my parents, I guess Jac: good luck with getting that to last then Amelia: 🤞🍀🌠 Jac: give you 'til your late 20s before that stops being enough Amelia: it already isn't Jac: like I said, find some real trauma like the rest of us Jac: gives you something to cling to Amelia: or more to collapse under the weight of Jac: you don't even want to survive Amelia: and what? Jac: and that's the fundamental reason Savannah is better than you Jac: and I am too Jac: all I have is the shit behind me to drive me forwards Jac: and your ideal is to wallow in it Amelia: you've got a million reasons why, I don't care how they're numbered, to be honest Jac: you deserve the nothing you're left with and the nothingness that's coming Amelia: that's worked out perfectly then Jac: I swear to God you're lucky he was there Jac: any other day Amelia: yeah Amelia: you know what lessons to find me in Jac: I'm taking time off Jac: so you can have them Amelia: I really am lucky Amelia: maybe it'll make me care about 20 years in the future, like you do, or 5 or 1 Amelia: drive me forwards too Jac: unlikely Amelia: right now it is Amelia: I'm just trying to get through this conversation Jac: Jesus Amelia: my 🤔💭 exactly Jac: you clueless bitch Amelia: what am I supposed to be clued into? Amelia: we haven't spoken for ages Jac: and that's hardly a mystery Amelia: slag me off as much as you like, I don't know what's going on Jac: didn't inherit that off your mum then Amelia: clearly not Jac: yeah well when she finds out somehow you can hear all about it Amelia: finds out what? Jac: now you're gonna ask how I am Amelia: if you were in the hospital again or something that's more important than any of this bullshit Amelia: please just tell me Jac: no, because you did a grand gesture I didn't ask for so now I'm really all good Amelia: a Christmas present isn't a grand gesture Amelia: or what matters Jac: yeah, no shit it isn't Amelia: can you just Jac: what, tell you what's wrong with me? Jac: will that make you feel better Amelia: No Jac: yeah, that makes it almost seem worth it Amelia: forget it Amelia: I'll find out when everyone else does or I won't Jac: yeah Jac: your fake concern for 2 seconds was really comforting Amelia: nothing about this is fake for me Amelia: I don't know how many more times or ways I can make that fucking obvious Jac: you're all talk Jac: I expect nothing more or less from you at this point Amelia: because talking is all I can do Amelia: you won't take a 🎁 I'm not risking an actual gesture Jac: yeah, I heard Jac: nothing in it for you Amelia: okay, tell me I'm wrong Amelia: tell me there is Jac: no Amelia: say something Amelia: give me literally anything Jac: how many times can you be told it's not about you before you get it Jac: it's not about caring because I throw you false hope Jac: we were friends, once Amelia: which is exactly why I want you to tell me what it's really about Amelia: I care about you, I fucking love you Amelia: and something bad has happened Jac: depends on your point of view Amelia: put all of this bullshit between us aside and talk to me Amelia: you said it, we were friends Jac: I don't know if I actually want to hurt you this bad Jac: call me stupid Amelia: it's not about me, remember? Jac: still Jac: it's Amelia: you aren't going to talk to anyone else Jac: Jesse knows Jac: and my parents Amelia: that doesn't mean they know how you feel, just what's happened Jac: you won't be able to know either Jac: it isn't gay Amelia: this can still be one of those times where you say things to me that you don't to anyone else, if you want Amelia: if it'll help you Jac: Nothing will help me Jac: but I don't care Jac: I've got a baby Amelia: what? Jac: a dead one now Amelia: oh Jac: yep Amelia: when? Jac: it's why Jesse cancelled his gig Amelia: of course Amelia: that makes sense Jac: so now you know Amelia: yeah Jac: so yeah, there's nothing to be said or done and that's seriously it Amelia: okay, well I'm here if that ever changes Amelia: my mum's never gotten over it but I know talking helped her Jac: talking isn't going to assuage the guilt of creating and destroying life Jac: maybe I'll go pray but I doubt that does either Amelia: I don't know Amelia: there must be a reason therapy is so popular, you're the wannabe psychologist Jac: hope Jac: I'm not interested Amelia: alright, no talking Amelia: do you want to go out? Jac: and bleed over the four pairs of tights I'd have to wear to stop it running straight down my legs? Amelia: a no would be a perfectly acceptable answer Jac: yeah, it's perfectly acceptable to bother a therapist about it so you never mention it to anyone else Amelia: you're not going to mention it anyway, you've said as much Jac: that has nothing to do with your sensibilities Jac: if I wanted to, I could go into horrific detail Amelia: yeah, you could Amelia: you could also bleed all over my car if you wanted to Jac: Yeah right Jac: your entire street is curtain twitchers Amelia: we won't be hanging out on my street Jac: there's nowhere I could go that'll make me forget either Amelia: you've been stuck inside for days with your family, it's hardly a grand gesture to suggest taking you literally anywhere else Amelia: but okay Jac: Jess won't let me go anyway Jac: last time I said I'd hang out with you and he believed it I fucked your girlfriend so Amelia: you kissed her Jac: oh yeah Jac: same difference Amelia: no Amelia: there's quite a big difference Jac: maybe I told him I did then Jac: I don't remember Amelia: probably Jac: the outcome was the same is the point Amelia: the point is, Jess won't let you go Amelia: I got that Jac: I had to have someone come with Amelia: yeah Jac: not about to ask the poor sod who did it Amelia: have you told him though? Jac: yeah Jac: fucking embarrassing Amelia: I assume you're less likely to accidentally run into him than you are me Jac: I think I got points for dealing with it and being cool anyway Jac: go me Amelia: great Jac: it don't matter Jac: only would have if he'd kicked up a fuss Jac: but he didn't seem the sort and that's one less thing for me to feel guilty about so fuck it Amelia: does Darla know? Jac: I told her false alarm Jac: had to ask her about him so Amelia: then why do you think everyone's going to find out? Jac: people somehow always do Jac: I don't care anymore, not now Amelia: if my mum hasn't heard, it's unlikely Amelia: she knew about your alcohol poisoning immediately Jac: beneath her to have connections with an abortion clinic Amelia: she's not god squad Jac: close enough Amelia: my aunt had one after having Olivia, there was something wrong with the baby apparently Amelia: my mum wasn't protesting outside Jac: that's different then Jac: you have a reason, people can repeat that to themselves until they forget about it Amelia: you had a reason too Amelia: everyone does Jac: no, I had an excuse Amelia: you had a reason Jac: no, I didn't Amelia: yeah, you did Amelia: and if anyone else did it for the same reason you wouldn't call it an excuse Jac: Yes I would Amelia: you hate yourself, before this, after this and because of this Amelia: stop Jac: I didn't need to get pregnant, I did and then I killed it Jac: anyone who did that, I'd think exactly the same Amelia: you didn't mean to Amelia: and if you're going to punish yourself this hard for every mistake you ever make then you're going to last even less time than you think I will Jac: You don't act like that not not mean to Jac: all I need to do is live this year then I'll be doing what I actually want Amelia: and that's enough of a reason, don't you get that Jac: enough of a reason for what Amelia: you can't just have a baby you don't want Amelia: it's not like fucking lads you don't care about Jac: no one made me do any of it Jac: so it's not a reason Jac: it's stepping away from any responsibility Amelia: you made you Amelia: and you'd be a shit mum Jac: no, that's bullshit Jac: you tell yourself what you like about it but I know what I did Amelia: tell me you enjoyed it, any of the times Jac: it's sex Jac: that's one of but not the only point Amelia: say it then Amelia: what your point is Jac: Why am I repeating myself? Jac: I know what I did Jac: you aren't going to convince me otherwise Amelia: Why are you doing it? Jac: Well I can't anymore, actually Jac: 2 weeks minimum Amelia: but why have you ever? Jac: because I want to Amelia: you want Savannah Amelia: it hasn't helped you forget that, it won't Jac: neither do you but you didn't tell me not to do that Jac: I can still want to fuck guys Jac: end of Amelia: fine, I'll say it now Jac: yeah Amelia: I can't do this any more Jac: we aren't Amelia: we've said that before, it has to be different this time Jac: whatever Jac: you expect me to make promises to you? Jac: I don't fucking care, Amelia Jac: you deal with it, it's not my problem Amelia: okay Jac: Christ sake Amelia: What? Jac: Never mind, right, off you go Amelia: I'm not going Jac: 🙄 Amelia: you don't care, I heard you before Jac: you want it to be different this time Jac: do something about it Amelia: I'm not having sex with you, that's what I'm doing differently Jac: what's the point in that Jac: doing all the other shit, there's barely any difference Amelia: because I shouldn't have ever but I can't take any of it back Jac: we don't need to be friends either Amelia: we're not Jac: then leave Jac: why half-arse it, that's my point Amelia: I can't leave Jac: just the situation Jac: you don't actually need to kill yourself Amelia: no, I can't leave you Jac: don't be daft Amelia: I'm not repeating myself either Jac: please yourself Amelia: fuck you Jac: you'll be a long time waiting for a thank you Jac: I didn't ask for this Amelia: neither did I Jac: you have a choice Amelia: yeah, and I've made it Jac: and what? Jac: what would you like me to say? Amelia: don't say anything Amelia: I'd honestly love that Jac: yeah, I bet Amelia: the back and forth between utter lies and bullshit and brutal fucking honesty is worse than just the gaslighting Jac: then go away Jac: you're doing this to you Jac: I don't want you here Amelia: you're doing it to me Jac: no, I'm not Amelia: you are Jac: I'm literally telling you to go Amelia: you're always telling me to go Amelia: it's been over a year Jac: your lack of resolve is not my fault Amelia: if you really don't want me here, do something about it Jac: No, because I'm not crying about it Jac: if you feel so gaslit, fuck off Jac: don't reply, don't engage Jac: I don't owe you anything Amelia: you're literally complaining about it Jac: because you're crying wolf Jac: I can and will do what I want, that's how it's always been Amelia: It's no different for me, I've always done what I want too Jac: no, you're being horribly manipulated and used Jac: poor little Amelia Amelia: you fucking said it as a brag earlier Amelia: how easy it is Jac: so why are you repeating it back to me, like I don't know? Jac: you're waiting for me to deny it, or apologize and say it's not true and I care SO much Jac: get real Amelia: I'm waiting for you to stop Amelia: actually do anything you say you're going to Jac: why? Jac: why are you expecting me to act like I'm fine when I'm not Jac: keep making the same wrong call and act surprised when I do what feels right Jac: for fuck's sake, Amelia Amelia: I don't know Amelia: maybe because I'm not fine either but I don't treat you like this Jac: maybe 'cos you've got no willpower Jac: maybe 'cos struggling is a competition and I'm winning Amelia: maybe Jac: 🤔💭 on that Amelia: obviously Jac: fun never stops Jac: enjoy, like Amelia: 🎢 🎠🎪 Jac: 'tis the season Amelia: Merry Christmas 🎄🎅⛄ Jac: great Amelia: yeah Jac: make you feel better that? Amelia: 1. you literally don't care 2. neither do I Jac: I'm literally still bleeding from having my baby chemically expelled and you don't get any joy out of wishing me a Merry Christmas? Jac: what is the fucking point, if you're gonna be a cunt, commit to it Amelia: there's no point to any of this, we both get that Jac: nah, it actually makes me feel better to make you feel worse Jac: that's the point Jac: I have loads of them Jac: it's you who has zero idea what the fuck she's doing Jac: as per Amelia: oh well in that case, carry on Jac: if you hadn't worked that out by now, there is no hope for you Amelia: there's no hope for me anyway, as you've said repeatedly Jac: you seem pretty resigned to this whole victim thing you've got going on Jac: it's a fair observation Amelia: I'm sure it is Jac: yep, that's right, curl up into a ball 'til it's over Jac: fuck this Amelia: until what's over? Jac: the attack, whatever you wanna call it Amelia: I don't want to call it anything, I don't want to do this Amelia: you're the one who's getting something out of it, unless that's another lie Jac: then don't Jac: why the fuck are you still here? Amelia: because I can't fucking leave when you're in the middle of an abortion Amelia: for fuck's sake Jac: the good friend points are not being counted any more Amelia: I don't care Amelia: if this is all I can do, over nothing, then so be it Jac: you're gonna let yourself be a punching bag Jac: seriously Amelia: why not? Amelia: it's not like it's the first time, or that I haven't for things that matter less Amelia: and it's too late to change any of that Jac: because I want you to stop Jac: to fight back Jac: to not do this shit anymore Amelia: I'm not fighting you right now, even if I had the strength to ever Jac: it's like Jac: you don't understand how dangerous it is Jac: what if this was someone else Jac: do you wanna end up like that, getting knocked about and taken advantage of Amelia: I don't give a fuck about the future, remember? Jac: well stop it Amelia: no Jac: stop Amelia: no Jac: fine Jac: I'll go Amelia: okay, go

[thelangdoncooperative]

Looking Ahead (Halloween One-Shot)

She sat in front of her mirror with a steady hand and liquid eyeliner. She rarely got both eyes to be identical and it seemed like this was going to be another failure. She could see her boyfriend through the mirror fidgeting with his costume.

“Y/n,” he sighed, “I can't get it. Can you help?”

When she looked harder in the mirror to see what his struggle was, she smudged her eyeliner, “Fuck me,” she groaned.

He laughed as he came up behind her, “I'm busy,” she stuck her tongue at him through the mirror and continued to fix her face, “Just forget the eyeliner. You look pretty like that,”

She wiped the rest off before calling it quits. Turning to him, she could see that his buttons were all one off, “Perhaps your struggle is,” she began to unbutton his costume jacket, “that they're all off by one,”

He leaned down and kissed her nose as she adjusted his costume, “You're so smart. That's why I keep you around,”

She raised an eyebrow, “Is that the only reason?”

“Something about love too probably,” he grinned and she rolled her eyes.

He turned her in his arms so they were both facing the mirror, “How do we look? As good as they look on the package?”

She insisted on doing couples costumes when she found out her friends were throwing a Halloween party. They went through a few ideas (that Michael had shut down) before landing on this. She thought he looked beautiful in his prince costume. He had picked up a much darker version than the one she expected but it suited him. It was black with red stitching and his blonde curls made him look even more charming. In turn, her dress looked as if the fairies had turned Sleeping Beauty’s dress red instead. She didn't complain. She thought they could look cute but Michael wanted something a tad darker. He said it was called ‘compromise’.

“Listen, Princess,” he smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, “Are we ready to go?”

Thankfully, Michael’s mom had let him take the car. There was no way Y/N’s parents were going to be that cool. They were staying overnight and while her parents were chill about a lot, drinking and driving were not one of them. They all but made Michael take a blood oath not to drink and drive with Y/N in the car. Of course he was able to put them at ease and they did trust both of their judgements.

When they pulled up to the house, it was already 11pm and the party seemed in full swing. The music was flowing out the windows and they could see it was packed just from looking in. As they walked up the steps, they saw one of their classmates puking off the side of the porch. Michael gripped Y/N's waist a touch tighter as they walked past and through the crowd to get to the drinks.

He leaned into her ear to speak over the music, “If you ever wanna go, just let me know. Don't feel like you can't say when,”

Pushing his curls out of his face, she nodded, “I know. We just got here though. It'll be okay,” she smiled and handed him a drink.

Y/N was known around school primarily for being Michael’s girlfriend. She was essentially his only and best friend. Before her, no one dared approach him. He sat alone most of the time, his only company were his thoughts. When Y/N moved to town their senior year, that changed. While Michael would tell you she forced her friendship on him, he'd always say he was glad. She made him a new person and he couldn't imagine a time without her. That being said, her friends were still apprehensive even now.

When her best friend, Sara, came over to talk to her, Michael was polite. He smiled at her but he did not speak. He could sense her uneasiness. He simply stood by Y/N, holding her waist as they talked and giving space when she needed it. When Y/N asked him to dance, he happily obliged. He would never tell her not to talk to her friends but he liked having her to himself. These social settings were not made for him. When he seemed to zone out, she took it as that but when she could not get him to pay attention to her she knew something was up.

“What is it?” She wrapped her arms around him, “What do you feel?”

He kissed her before speaking, “You're going to think it's cause I want to leave but...something's off in here. We should go,”

“What do you mean ‘something's off’? You have to elaborate more,” she replied.

He shook his head, “I can't, really. That's all I have for you,” He looked to the front door, frowning, “Okay, I'm sorry but we have to go,” he grabbed her hand and quickly led her out the front door. She stumbled a few times trying to match the strides of his long legs. Unlocking the car door, he opened her side and quickly helped her in.

“Michael, what is it?” She said out of breath but he did not respond. He rushed over to the drivers side and turned over the engine in a rush. As he drove down the block, she could see police lights in the rear view mirror. They stopped in front of Sara’s house.

He glanced over at her while he drove, “That was it,”

She took his hand in her lap, “Sara’s gonna be so pissed.”

He laughed, “We can go eat. Would you be up for that? It’s only-” he looked down at the time on the radio, “twelve-thirty”

She agreed and he pulled into a local 24-hour spot. The sign outside boasted of a famous cheesecake and that had Y/N sold. She was a sucker for desserts. She slid into the booth and Michael followed behind.

“Ew, Michael,” she laughed, “Are we really gonna be the couple who sits on the same side of the booth?”

He grinned widely, taking her face in his hand and planting a sloppy kiss on her lips, “We absolutely are,”

The waitress came and went. Y/N hadn't realized how hungry she was until she was waiting and the wait truly did feel like forever.

“Oh my god,” she dropped her head dramatically on his shoulder, “I'm so hungry” she whined.

He reached his arm behind her and pulled her body close to his, “You're like a toddler,” he laughed, “It should be out soon. It hasn't even been that long,”

“Are you sure? It feels like forever and a day,” she looked up at him. Taking advantage of the angle, he dipped his head down to kiss her. She laughed, trying to push his face away but instead felt Michael lick her hand. “Disgusting. Why do you hate me?” She laughed so loud the old trucker at the counter turned to look at her.

Michael contained his laughter and put his hand over her mouth, “You're so loud. Holy shit. People are gonna think I’m doing something to you,”

She moved his hand from her mouth, holding it where it hung over her shoulder, “Okay, okay,” she took deep breaths to calm her laughter.

When the food finally arrived, Y/N was beaming. Michael was just glad he made it out alive. They were sharing a plate of fries and each had a milkshake. Michael had chocolate and she had strawberry.

“Here. Open up, big baby” he laughed as he fed her a fry. She sighed in contentment and laid her head back on his shoulder. They continued eating like this until Y/N looked up at him with a serious expression.

“Michael, can I ask you something?” Her eyes were wide but he saw no negativity in them.

He quickly washed down his fry with a drink, “Of course. What is it?”

“Do you love me?” She bit her lip.

He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose, “Is this where I get in trouble for not saying it enough?” He continued eating.

“No, I just mean-...Well, I’ll be leaving for college soon and I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Because I do love you and I want you. I want to be with you,” she spoke so plainly but her words rang true. He felt the same way and to hear her speak them out loud was a comfort to his mind.

“I love you, little one,” he kissed her nose once more, “I'll be here as long as you'll have me. Okay?” He tipped her chin up so he could get better access to her lips when they kissed.

She beamed up at him, relieved at his response, “Okay, no more heavy stuff I promise. You can eat now. I won't bother you.” He picked up a fry and moved to feed her. She opened her mouth in anticipation and at the last second he quickly popped it in his mouth. “Rude!” She laughed and swatted his arm.

“Excuse me, ma'am. You said you weren't going to bother me anymore!” He laughed, almost choking on a half-eaten fry.

“That's what you get,” she chuckled as she cuddled deeper into his side.

[makebelievetimeformymind]

Don't Believe Me? Ask Him... pt 6

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jaslyn (OFC), Silas (OMC)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: After skipping town after town Jaslyn finally found one she could see herself settle in. For awhile that is at least. Only for the normal supernatural life to follow her there due to her normal old habits always catching up to her. She didn’t see this coming a million miles away though. Was her luck about to change for the better or was she gonna be stuck packing up going off on the run again? Only this time with the Winchester's on her trail?

Warning: (Not too sure what all to put here) Nothing really to warn about. Simple flirting and weed use. Extra warnings will go by chapter. I still ask 18+ only because how the story will play out...

 A/N: I am just now starting to get back into this. I had this chapter wrote for a while and just now able to post on here. This is not my best work. I hate this chapter but I needed to move on. I'm not tagging anyone since it's been years since being on here. If anyone reading this wants future works to be tagged, just let me know.

Warnings: Language, weed, and short description of harder drug use in action (I know this can be a huge trigger for people),

The whole way to my blasted job I thumbed at the thought of what utter bullshit this was. For too many years the Winchester's were avoided only to have shit come down to this.

Once seeing the car Dean was back on his protective act. "Are you sure you don't want to follow us back to the motel. Ya know, stay safe from the blood sucking Dracula's lurking for you?" 

"What happens when they show up at Silas's house an suck the life outta his momma, huh? Then what?" Glaring off at the G35 my heart sunk. I put the women in danger the lease I can do I not let her be killed, or worse, turned.

"Sam can keep watch." The words spewed quickly from his mouth and my head turned to him just as fast. He gave me a small smile I had no choice but to refuse. Something he obviously wasn't used to from women. 

"Or, you can call the Sheriff. Have him send a patrol." Sam swooped in with a disapproval tone and had a damn good idea. 

Grabbing the door handle I broke our eye contact, "Little, big brother doesn't sound too approving. Silas wouldn't like that shit either." A sigh slipped out at the thought of him playing host.

I could hear Dean mumble something to Sam as I shut the door. Anger settled over me but the chill down my spine didn't budge. 

Sam slipped a louder laugh than meaning, quickly silence came over him. Dean's dissatisfaction showed as he straightened his jacket avoiding my glare. Feeling my patience run thin I glanced around the parking lot hoping we were alone. 

Them, machete in hand caused a different kind of flame. The frustration of knowing the only satisfaction sleeping with a Winchester would be pissing off the father. The fact of what I truly am would make Dean disgusted with me, in his eyes, a monster. I don't know what he hates more, true witches or demons, and I'm a double whammy. 

"What's the fucken punchline, Sam?" 

"Uhh, what?" Aiming to look clueless he scrolled around to stand next to me. The act pissed me off even more. 

"I wanna know what's so goddamn funny. I need a good laugh as I stew in the thought of my best friend's momma being in danger." 

"Whoah, whoah, whoa now!" holding the machete as the top of a time out signal Dean's voice echoed with authority. "Sammy did nothing wrong." 

"Oh, yeah... cause it is your ass that know all about wrong doing" I snickered back rolling my eyes. "Could you be any louder?" 

Sam rolled his eyes, "Can we not do this?" 

"Don't act like you know me, lady." He hesitated back. 

Walking backwards on my heels toward my own Baby I flashed peace signs with both hands. "Thanks for the ride, dudes, peace." 

He was following though, on my trail pushing the door closed as I attempted to open it. "You're not riding off alone." He declared in a flat tone. "I don't care what kind of stick you have up your ass all of a sudden but that's not happening. Don't think so, ma'am."

"It's alright. Your protection isn't needed." Shoving Dean using my entire body I was able to make him budge enough for my door to be opened. 

"Hey, Sammy, I'm riding with her. Go figure out what you can about this town. Maybe, find where the nest could possibly be."

A long exhale rushed out, "Don't get yourself killed." The talk man hollered as he went back to the impala. 

🔮

Cranking her I grabbed my phone to warn Silas of my company. He was going to be pissed already but my hands were tied.

"Are we gonna sit here all night, or what?" Impatience showing as he started tinkering with the sun visor, my locked glove box and then my radio.

"It's called safety." I snorted, "Question." Not lifting my head from the phone, the silence lurking as he kept looking for things to touch, his hands making it to my middle console.

Clearing my throat added to the awkwardness among us my stomach to tighten. "Why the hell you touching my shit like that?" I snapped. "Are you fucken seven?"

Dean's jaw dropped. Guilt set in automatically hearing his lungs deflate. Maybe that was a little too harsh. 

"Smoke another blunt, pot head, you have one in the console. Let's get going." He shrugged it off on the surface and found something to play. 

I had nothing. Couldn't think of a single damn remark. Seeing my phone light up with an answer to my likings, I released the E break and slammed into gear. 

🔮

Everything viewed as normal. Momma Fraley already in bed. The light above the stove gave a small path leading to the bedroom. Watching tv looking displeased when we walked in Silas gave me an eye roll as Dean gently shut the door.  "You dudes play nice." Before either of them could say anything I darted back out. 

I questioned myself during the short moments between locking the door and unzipping the little brown case. Already loaded, my warm gun of happiness beamed in the light waiting for my trigger finger. 

Within seconds my body was warm from head to toe. It had been three long days. Now that I knew it wasn't a tainted supply my conscience was about as clear as it was gonna become. Sweat rolling down my temples was a great indication I had over done it slightly. The message from Silas asking if I was going to return was an even bigger one. 

When rejoining them their egos had subsided. On the computer was our town's layout being studied by dean with Sam on speaker. My best friend next to Dean pointing at wooded area next to the town's lake. 

Silas peaked up at me with annoyance when I grabbed a blunt to spark. Offering him an apologetic smile he shook his head slowly converting to a nod, followed by a grin. I gave a smirk sticking my tongue out at him. 

"We have narrowed down where their nest is." The eldest Winchester informed me. "If we act quick enough the element of surprise is with us." 

"How can you be so sure?" Full of attitude I blew smoke at them. Silas phone started to ring and he declined the call instantly. "Besides, they could be anywhere, anyon-thing, and you want to run in guns blazing an half cocked?"

Dean waved the thick smoke from his face scrunching his nose. "There has been a number of cattle attacks reported around one area like clockwork. The freaks moved up the food chain. And your buddy here informed us there's an old barn all by its lonesome." 

Sam chimed in, "I have dead man's blood ready in syringes and a bag packed. Let me know when you're ready." 

Click. 

Again, Silas declined his phone. My gut dropped at the sight of his eyebrows narrowing at the name. Could only be one person. 

"She's not going to quit, homie," motioning at his phone ringing once again, "just answer the bitch!" Dean shifted his eyes at the two of us in curiosity then back to the computer. 

He swiped the green button, "I'm in th-" his eyes met mine only to glance away quickly. His jaw hardened as he was cut off by Reese high pitch screeching. Wishing I knew what the problem was I moved closer but he didn't care for it. 

"Be there as soon as possible. Just stay there." Grabbing for his jacket he avoided my stare. 

"You can't be fucken serious." Standing in front of him with hands on my hips I tilted my head to the side. "Thought you said you were done"

"Look, I know, I know, but I'm between a rock and a hard place. I have no choice. I'll be back."

"Somebody has to stay here with momma!" I screamed as he moved around me making his way toward the door. Spinning quickly with a closed grip I extended my arm, stopping him in mid stride. 

"Jaslyn, are you really?", challenging my limits he gave a chuckle. "She'll be fine."

Instantly my hold released letting him walk out I couldn't believe what he just said. Thankfully Dean was nose deep in the map still to see what just happened.