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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years

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BO SINCLAIR X TRANS MAN / MAN ALIGNED READER COMING OUT - Pt. 2 - Over the Moon

This title is NSFW. Pt. 1, Under Your Skin, is Safe For Work. If you're a minor, please read that one instead! This one has s*x in it!

It's been a year since you came out to Bo, and while there have been ups and downs and a lot of new things to get used to, you've both done your best to keep the relationship going. But has he learned how to treat you like a man?

CW: NSFW, descriptions of dysphoria, mentions of deadnaming/misgendering, mentions of murder and mortal peril, words that could be considered slurs and/or fetishizing/objectifying (I mean, come on, it's Bo. We're talking extremely raunchy BUT GENDER AFFIRMING sex.)

Soundtrack: x

Words: 3,431

Part One

Masterlist

***

The sun was just setting over Ambrose by the time Lester's truck pulled up to the washed-out road. With a smile, you shifted the big paper bag in your arms and slid out of the passenger side, calling, "Thanks, Les!" over your shoulder.

"You take care now!" he said back, patting Jonesy's behind as she jumped out after you. "Tell those good fer nothin' brothers of mine 'm sorry I couldn't make it to dinner."

You nodded, filling your lungs with fresh air. You loved the hell out of Lester, but you still weren't used to the smell of his truck. "I'll tell them. Drive safe. Thanks again."

Lester waved as he backed out, then pulled a sharp turn to head down the dirt road again, truck clattering the whole way.

You looked down at Jonesy, who had paused to pee in a nearby bush. "You ready, Jonesy?" When she looked up at you, panting, you said, "I know, it's hot. Come on, let's head home. Go home, Jonesy."

She knew the way, taking point and leading you across the small creek, around the bend and into Ambrose.

Your heart soared the moment you stepped into town. You could see pretty much the whole thing from where you stood: the church, the gas station, the house of wax ... and of course the Sinclair house.

You were eager to go find Bo, but you followed Jonesy to the house of wax first, opening one of the front doors to let her in. She'd find her way down to Vincent, and he'd know to come up to the house for dinner in about an hour—unless he didn't show up at all, which wasn't out of the ordinary.

Jonesy pranced into the dusty darkness of the museum, and you watched her retreating form for a few moments, zoning out.

It had been a year since you'd come out to Bo, Vincent, and Lester. A year now that you'd been living as your true self. It felt like much longer than that, and yet, when you thought about it, it somehow felt like only yesterday that you'd told your favorite mechanic.

After stewing over it and your talks, he'd come to terms with your new lifestyle ... gradually. Grudgingly, at times. But he was trying, and that meant something. These days, he only had to correct himself occasionally.

And that was the thing about Bo. He may be ignorant, and he might not get it, but once he had come to terms with something ... once he had decided that something was acceptable ... he was protective as hell. It might take some work, and he might still tease you about it, but if anyone else said something? God help them.

"Boo!"

You jumped, nearly dropping your paper bag as strong hands squeezed your waist. You turned quickly and were met with Bo's grinning face. "You douchebag!"

He snickered. "Scared you, darlin'?" He leaned to look into your bag. "Get anything good?"

"Get your nose out of there." With a grin of your own, you pushed him gently away by the chest. "It's a surprise."

"You know I hate surprises." Nonetheless, Bo relented, straightening and adjusting the brim of his hat. "I'll lock up the shop, meet you up at the house in ten?"

"Sounds good." You craned your neck to kiss his stubbly, sweaty cheek, then passed him. As you did, he smacked your ass. "Ugh! Come on, dude."

"You know ya like it, dude."

You could still hear him snickering to himself like an idiot as you parted ways, starting up the hill to the house while he returned to the garage. The door was unlocked as usual. You stopped in the kitchen to shove the groceries in the fridge before starting upstairs. It was hot as hell today, and you were in desperate need of a shower, slicked with more sweat than you cared to think about.

Once in the bedroom, you kicked your shoes under the end of the bed, then stripped off your shirt. You'd been wearing your binder for a few hours now, so you peeled it off, relishing the feeling of air hitting your hot skin. As you chucked the binder to the floor, you glanced into the full-length mirror near the dresser.

Your hormone therapy was going well. You were hairier, your face was slightly different, your fat had redistributed and made you squarer in a way that made you downright giddy. Your chest wasn't flat, but more and more every day, you found you didn't care—even enjoyed the look of it. Wearing a binder in public saved you from being misgendered, but around Ambrose, you didn't wear it all that much.

You ghosted your fingers over the hair on your arms and hands, thinking back. The road to the place you were at had been rocky, to say the least. For you and for Bo. When the HRT had started taking effect especially, he'd gotten weird and silent all over again, like it was finally really setting in for him. But he'd rarely voiced any criticisms aloud besides some offhanded asinine comments, so you'd just let him deal with whatever internal struggle he was dealing with.

Those days had been a struggle for you, too. But by now, he'd gotten over himself. He even dutifully helped with your shots, administering them like they were the most serious shit in the world.

It made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, how far he had come. How far you'd both come. For a few long minutes, you were lost in your scrutiny, fingering stretch marks and admiring your hands.

You were so deep in thought that when the bedroom door creaked open, you jumped, instinctively covering your chest before you realized who it was. "You scared me."

"That's twice today." Bo smirked as he hung his hat on one of the bedposts. "You sure are jumpy."

"You're almost as quiet as Vincent when you wanna be." You bit your lip and glanced back at the mirror.

In the reflection, you noticed Bo looking you up and down slowly. After a beat, he approached from behind, wrapping his arms around your middle and meeting your gaze. As he did, he raised his hands to your chest, strong fingers rubbing your breast tissue in deep circles. Ever since you'd complained about how tender you got after being compressed for hours, he'd done this. You were pretty sure it was just an excuse to touch your boobs, but it felt nice at least.

You relaxed back into him with a sigh, letting him support you a bit. "How was your day?"

"A lot better now that you're home, handsome." He craned his head to kiss your neck and stayed like that, mouth buried in the crook. "Fuck, you smell good," he mumbled into your skin, fingers never stilling.

You couldn't help but squirm a little under his praise. You smelled like sweat, and worse, man sweat, but Bo always seemed fascinated with it, more than content to snuggle up to you and take your changing body in.

"I smell like a highschool gym locker," you mumbled, though you couldn't hide your goofy smile in the mirror.

He raised his eyes and brows to meet your gaze in the reflection again. "You sure? I used ta play football ... don't remember the other guys smellin' this hot."

You squeezed one of the arms around your waist, trying to ignore the heat of your face. The sight of him rubbing your breasts and the feeling of his rough fingers against your sensitive skin was already crazy-making enough. "I bet you found it a little hot."

A year ago, you wouldn't have dared make a joke like that. You didn't even wanna think about how offended he would've gotten. Now, though, his only reaction was a smile that crinkled his eyes and a little sparkle in his pupils.

"All those sweaty, strong guys bumping up against each other in steamy close quarters." Your smile turned into a grin. "Bet it kinda turned you on."

Bo snorted. "Wouldn't really know. I usually changed in the janitor's closet." A bit of vulnerability flashed in his eyes, but he quickly recovered by focusing the attention back on you. "Anyway, none a' them were like you. Where you goin', lookin' like that?"

As he spoke, his hands slid down your front, hugging your hips so your ass was pressed tight against him. You shivered hard. "Looking like what? This is just my body."

He grunted, and you watched in fascination as his gaze ate you up. He rubbed your flanks with his thumbs. "You're a real pretty boy, you know that? Not like other guys at all..."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you suppressed the urge to hide your face in your hands. Still, you averted your eyes from the mirror, too shy to look at yourself any longer. "I dunno about that, but thanks."

Bo shifted. He huffed in your ear, and you lifted your head enough to see him frowning down at you. After a few moments, his expression changed to something slightly more neutral, eyes alight. "Don't make me hafta teach you a lesson, sweetheart. I might enjoy it too much."

Those words sent a thrill up your spine, flipping your stomach. He looked like a predator about to strike its prey, and god, it took everything you had not to give in right away. You raised your chin in a challenge. "What lesson is that, hm?"

Bo's expression shifted again. He grinned, bottom lip caught between his teeth. One hand left your hip, wrapping around your throat just under your chin.

Then, he pivoted, and with one good yank, threw you onto the bed.

You loosed a soft breath as you bounced on the mattress, looking up at him. Defiance fluttered its wings in your chest. "Well? You never answered my question."

"Shh." His hand returned, this time over your mouth. "None a' that now. I'm not in the mood for dolin' out punishment. You just sit there nice 'n' lemme show you what ya do to me, understand?"

Even if you could say something with his hand over your mouth, all you wanted to do was stare at him—at those beautiful blue eyes that seemed to see right through you.

"Tch." His crooked grin made a brief appearance, though it was more of a snarl, showing off his gums. "What a good li'l soldier."

With that, Bo moved in on you, kissing you hard. Teeth and noses clashed painfully before he drew you closer and deeper, his tongue exploring you like he could drink you in. You returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, grunting into his mouth, then giving a groan when you felt his large hand cup you between the legs.

A sharp inhale, and he pulled back slightly. His lips moved against yours as he whispered, "Whose is that? Who does this pussy belong to, dickbait?"

Your breath hitched. "You."

"Me. That's right." He squeezed and rubbed through your jeans. You could already feel how wet you were, folds sliding together. A second later, he'd undone your button and zipper and slipped his hand into your underwear. "Fuck, that's nice." His lips still brushed against yours, breath hot on your face and in your mouth. "Love that boy cunt. You're just as wet, aintcha?"

As he stroked you, his thumb found your swollen clit. You gasped when he put pressure on it.

"So wet for your man."

You shuddered and dared to quip back, "And it looks like you're pretty hard for yours."

Finally, he pulled back to meet your eyes, lust warring with challenge. He stared for a few moments before saying, his voice nearly a growl, "I'mmuna make you come, pussyboy. Yeah. Squirt all up my stomach 'n' chest ... we'll see if you still gimme an attitude once you're screamin' and shakin' under me."

You had no smart comeback for that. You simply melted onto his hand, grinding against him as he slid two fingers inside your hot, needy pussy. The feeling of him curling his fingers and stroking you deep already had you biting back incoherent dirty talk, every nerve electric.

"Pretty young buck like you, walkin' around lookin' like that ... you're just askin' for dick." He licked his lips and used his other hand to help you shimmy out of your jeans. Soon, you were bare, gushing all over his fingers as he loomed over you. "Am I right?"

"Y-Yeah," you pushed out, leaning back on your palms so he could get a better angle. "Fuck, Bo—"

"Y/N," he mumbled back, free hand gripping the back of your head. "Y/N."

You heard him say your name all the time, but the way he said it now, the way he was staring into your eyes ... you knew this meant something more. He wasn't just fucking you, he was fucking you. He was seeing you.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your head was spinning with every circle his thumb made around your clit, but you needed more. With a strangled gasp, you gripped his biceps. "Bo, baby, inside—fuck, please, I need you."

He smirked above you. "Not until you admit you're the handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose."

You groaned. "Come on!"

"Sorry, gorgeous, those're the rules. C'mon, lemme hear you say it."

Your cheeks burned, but he wouldn't stop playing with your pussy, and you didn't want to come without his cock inside you. "I-I can't," you muttered, only half joking. "What about you, big cat?"

"Besides me." He thrust his fingers in particularly firmly, drawing a shout from you. "Say, 'I'm the handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose.' I wanna see you say it while you're ridin' my hand, and you better convince me."

You panted for a few more moments before finally giving in, sputtering, "I'm the ... handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose," followed immediately by a groan, your eyes rolling back in your head.

"I'm not buyin' it."

"I'm the handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose!" He certainly made you feel like it.

"Good boy." After one last jerk, Bo drew his fingers from you, going to work his belt off. His cock sprung from his Dickies, already red and glistening with precum. He caught your calves in iron grips as he lined himself up with your hole. "I c'n smell you. Slut. So fuckin' messy for me."

As he slid in, your head lolled back. You dropped to your elbows, then gave up completely and laid flat, unable to hold yourself up for shaking.

Bo almost cooed, throbbing gently inside you. "Lookit my beautiful boyfriend ... already half way ta heaven. Haven't even started poundin' that sloppy boy pussy yet. Ya can't lose it on me already, ace."

Even the stupid nicknames got you hot somehow. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, panting. When he began to thrust, you yowled like a hurt animal, the drag of his dick sending flames spitting through your limbs.

His grip tightened as he rolled his hips into you, in and out, in and out, picking up pace. "You like that, loverboy? Shit, sure looks like ya do." He lifted his chin. "Stick your tongue out."

Obediently, you parted your lips with your tongue, trying not to drool too much.

Bo couldn't hide the way his eyes sparkled as he watched your mouth, or the way his dick swelled in you. His hips moved faster, your slickness enough for him to glide. It felt so nice, but that alone wouldn't make you come, and he knew that—he was savoring this.

Eventually, his shirt found its way to the floor, followed by his pants and boxer-briefs. The sight of him bare with you, glistening in the hot afternoon, made it hard to breathe.

With one of his hands, he propped your leg up so it was resting against his chest and slightly over his shoulder; with the other, he explored your torso, dragging his calloused hands up your hip, across your stomach, to your breasts. He still played with them often, sucking and squeezing, and you found you didn't mind. The way it made you feel and the way he was looking at you, how could you ever hate it? Plus, you weren't sure he'd take no for an answer regardless.

A growl ripped from your chest as he bent to suck one of your nipples, latching on for a few moments before flicking his tongue, then running it flat in circles. He whispered heatedly, lips brushing against you, accent slurring, "I love your tits ... you know I love ya tits, righ'? Fuck, ya so hot..."

You knew he'd miss them if you decided to get rid of them. Honestly, that was half the reason you were reconsidering that idea. You never wanted to forget the way he worshiped them: licking, sucking, slapping, squeezing his dick between them...

"Come on, romeo," Bo panted, his mouth still against your chest as he plowed into you. Wet clapping filled the room as his balls met your ass, again and again, almost unbearably warm. "Come on, fuck ya'self off tha'."

He loosened his grip on you, giving you more freedom to move. Now he was fucking firmer, his angle more deliberate, the hot head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. You loosed another yowl and bucked your hips to meet his.

"Bo," you groaned. "Bo, Bo..."

"Tha's my man." He was losing control of himself, his voice choked and desperate. "Tha's my man. Tha's my fuckin' man."

"Yeah—! You— you like fucking other guys, angel? Huh?"

Bo exhaled harshly, twitching inside you. "Like makin' 'em scream, too. 'Specially this one. My— handsome li'l— pussyboy—"

You could feel the muscles of his sweat-slicked thighs and abs flexing as he tried to hold himself back, trying to keep himself from finishing. You knew one comment from you would push him over the edge ... so you waited until you were at your edge, too, to choke out: "Fill that slutty boy pussy up, cher. Show me who's the big man around here, who gets to come wherever he wants. Show me who's boss— fuck—!"

Bo lurched, sinking his teeth in the crook of your neck. Every inch of him tensed, cock jumping, and you saw white as your entire core became molten between your orgasm and his.

When you were next aware of your surroundings, he had collapsed into you, slumped a bit awkwardly over the edge of the bed. He was breathing hard, his hair damp with sweat. It dripped down his spine, too, and down the back of your thighs. You gripped him tightly, wrapping your arms and legs around him, and the two of you stayed like that for a minute or so.

Eventually, he pulled away, rolling onto his back beside you. One of his strong, square hands still gripped your wrist, though, thumb brushing the back of your hand lightly. He opened his pretty blue eyes, all long lashes as he blinked away the haze of his climax.

Then he looked over at you—and, of course, found you already staring at him. His lips quirked up in a smirk. "Angel?"

You could feel yourself flush. "Romeo?"

The smirk turned into a wolfish grin, and he propped himself up on one elbow, stealing a kiss. "You're cute," he declared after a moment, like he was giving his official opinion on the subject.

"You're one to talk. Can we at least agree that I'm the second handsomest man in Ambrose?"

Bo heaved a sigh. "A'right, a'right, fine. Guess numero uno is my cross ta bear."

"Always."

With a laugh, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss. It started heated and rough, but as the seconds passed, it became more tender. He slipped a hand into your hair and held you in the kiss for an extended period before pulling away, an intense gaze searching your face.

"I love you," he breathed. "Ya know that, right?"

It wasn't often he said it unprompted; usually when he told you he loved you, it was because you'd said it first. At once, tears sprung to your eyes, and you leaned in for another quick kiss.

You did know—you did. And more importantly, he knew. He knew everything and he still said those three little words. He saw you and this and he still wanted all of it.

And fuck, you wanted it, too.

***

Masterlist

Tip Jar

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair fluff #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x trans man reader #house of wax 2005 #lester sinclair #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x trans man reader #slasher community #written

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heximagines · 3 years

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Ambrose | Choose Your Own Adventure | 1B

{INTRO}

YOU LEFT THE GUN

As you retreat back into your cab to grab a pair of boots and pull them on over your bare feet you eye your gun. Part of you wants to keep it close by just in case but you’d scared the poor guy enough already. After a moment you decide to leave the gun, you think he can be trusted. You grab your backpack and shove your phone, charger, and a fresh bag of jerky in there. You think you’re all set so you grab your keys and begin to lock up the truck but just as you’re about to leave one last item catches your eye. You grab it and shove it into your bag before slamming the door shut and jogging up to the strange man’s truck. When you climb in he seemed relieved that you’re unarmed. “It should only take about 10 er 15 minutes to get there.” You give him a shy smile and nod. “Okay sounds good. I’m y/n by the way. Sorry I usually make it a habit to introduce myself before ya know, pointing a gun at someone.” He chuckles at that and smiles back at you. “I’m Lester. You don’t worry about it none. I’m sure you weren’t expecting to be woken up like that.” “Well it’s nice to meet you Lester, I appreciate your help.” Lester throws the truck in drive and sets off back up the road you’d been going down earlier. Your eyes peer out into the dark of the surrounding woods and you struggle to see anything past the tree line. Meanwhile Lester chews his lip nervously and begins to fiddle with the radio trying to get a signal to come in, finally the staticky signal clears up just enough to hear the twang of a country artist. “Oh!” Lester cranked it up. “Ya like Hank Williams Jr?” You laugh and nod. “Of course I do! Hey good lookin’, whatcha got cookin’? How’s about cookin’ somethin’ up with me,” you sing along to the muffled voice on the radio. “Yeah! That’s it!” Lester bangs his hand against the steering wheel to the beat before joining along. “I’m free and ready, so we can go steady, how’s about savin’ all your time for me?” You and Lester sing along to the radio up until the signal cuts out completely. As it does the glimmer of a street light lit up the road making you sit up in your seat. As the truck passes under it the cab is illuminated for just a moment and you turned to look at Lester. He still sports a little smile on his face and you’re thankful for the good company. It seemed like no time had passed when you roll past a big sign. ‘Welcome to Ambrose, Visit Trudy’s World Famous House of Wax!’ “World famous House of Wax huh?” Lester shifts uncomfortably and he gets an odd look on his face. “Yeah, nothin’ too special.” You giggle to yourself. “Not too special? It’s world famous!” Lester cracked a smile and laughed. “Well, I suppose you got me there.”

Once you drive a bit into town you’re greeted by a small gas station with a garage attached. Lester puts the truck in park before checking the time on the truck stereo. It’s 4:30am. You had a nice ride and aren’t looking forward to going back to sleep in your own truck, but it looks like that’s going to be the plan until the station opens. You both climb out and Lester goes about lowering your truck off of the tow. You wrap your arms around yourself as you watch, trying to keep the now early morning chill from your skin when suddenly you’re startled by a loud voice just behind you. “Lester! What do ya think yer doin’ lettin’ yer friend freeze out here without a jacket?” Lester’s head shoots up and his eyes are blown wide. You turn around to see a handsome tall man approaching. He’s dressed casually in jeans, a T-shirt, and a thick flannel. “Oh, hey Bo. I wasn’t expectin’ ya to be up this early.” The man, Bo, pays Lester no mind as he approaches you, taking off his flannel he holds it out to you. “Oh, no I’m okay really. I have a hoodie in my truck. Thank you though.” “Now, now no need to be shy. Go on.” He presses the shirt into your hands as Lester approaches. His eyes are darting between the two of you and if you were paying more attention you would have noticed the panic in them. Finally you slip the warm material over your shoulders and pul it around yourself. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Bo nods before looking to Lester. “What’s the problem?” A slight frown twists your lips and you have to bite your tongue. “Uh,” Lester looked back down at you “You said it was yer starter right?” You simply nod, deciding not to butt in despite it being your truck. “Well that shouldn’t be no big deal. C’mon sweetheart. Let’s get you inside and I’ll fix your truck up.” The mechanic turns his back to you and starts walking towards the station, expecting you to follow.

Lester gives you a wavering smile and grabs your bag from the ground, handing it off to you. “Do you, uh, you want me to stay?” You take your bag and sling it over your shoulder before shaking your head. “You’ve done so much for me already. I’ll be all good and on the road soon thanks to you.” You lean in to wrap your arms around Lester’s slim torso in a tight hug. The smell of his sweat stained shirt makes you want to wrinkle your nose but you brush it aside. Lester seems to hesitate for a moment before hugging back, giving your shoulder an awkward pat. “You really don’t gotta thank me...” You slowly pull away and beam up at him. “Don’t be silly. Have a good morning Lester.” Finally you turn to the station and jog to catch up with the mechanic who’s holding the door open with a mildly annoyed expression. Lester exhales through his nose as he get back into the truck. Before he pulls off he looked back to watch you disappear into the station and for the first time in a long time guilt settles heavily in his chest. Lester throws the truck into drive and takes off. You turn your head just in time to watch him drive off in the direction you’d come from.

Your fingers fiddle with your backpack straps as you entered the shop. It’s cleaner than you’d expected. Almost as if it’s been mostly untouched. Bo closes the glass door and turns the lock. The click makes you jump a bit and you turn back to look at him. “Still closed technically, if I don’t lock up people will just barge in expectin’ service. Ya know?” You snort and roll your eyes. “Yeah people sure do like to make demands.” Bo flashes you a grin, “Exactly. Here how about you come to the garage with me and I’ll find ya a place to sit while I get to work.” Your back is sore from being tossed around your cab and the thought of sitting down and resting sounds very enticing. “That’d be great.” With a kind smile Bo gestures to a door. As you follow behind him into the dark garage you feel your anxiety spike, causing a tightness in your chest. However the feeling eases once he flips on the lights to reveal a perfectly average looking workspace. A little nervous laugh bubbles up past your lips and Bo arches a brow. “What’s so funny?” You cover your mouth with your hand and shrug. “I-I don’t know. I just had kind of a long night.” “Well then,” Bo smirks “how about you just relax.” He pulls up a comfortable enough looking chair, placing it right by the door to the shop. Gladly you drop your bag to your feet and collapse into the chair with a sigh. “Thank you.” “No problem.”

You didn’t know when you dozed off but when you open your eyes your surroundings are different. You gasp and sit up straight, head whipping around the room to take in as much as you can. The edges of your vision blur and your head swims with panic. Where the fuck are you? You jump from your seat and stumble just barely catching yourself on the arm of the chair, or rather contraption. You turn and back away slowly to take it in. It was like something you’d see in a prison or asylum. A metal chair, cushioned with cracked leather and straps designed to hold down your arms and legs. You’re just glad you hadn’t been strapped down. You have to get out of here. Not daring to pause and take in any more detail you dash for the nearest door. When you rip it open you’re met with a set of stairs. You take a moment to calm your breathing before getting down on your hands and knees. Cautiously you crawl up the wooden stairs stopping short of the top. You peek through the posts of the railing and you can see Bo on the opposite side of the garage, tearing through shelves like he was looking for something. You need to get to your truck and grab your gun. “God fucking damn it!” Bo slams his hands against the shelf, making it rock. You jump but quickly seize the opportunity to make a little noise. Scrambling up the steps you make a break for your truck, but as you run you realize in horror your keys are no longer in your pocket. But you’re in luck, you’d forgotten to lock the door last night. You grab for the handle and tear the door open before diving inside. “Hey!” Bo’s voice cuts the air like a whip. You watch as he launches himself over a bench and comes running for you. You slam down the driver’s side lock just as Bo is reaching for the handle, then scramble backwards to grab the passenger side as well. Bo retreats and you take the opportunity to grab your shotgun in shaky hands. When you look back up Bo is returning with a heavy looking wrench in hand. With all the force he can muster he slammed the tool into the driver’s side window, a large crack appearing in the center. You steady your hands to aim your gun at the man’s head. “I’ll fucking kill you! I swear I’ll fucking kill you!” Bo hesitates and you scoot back until you’re pressed against the passenger side door. Through the cracked glass you can see the look of pure rage written over his features, but he doesn’t move. You unlock the door and step out carefully. Bo’s gaze is so intense it takes everything in you to not look away. Aim still steady, you walk backwards towards the door where your bag sat waiting for you. You pause for only a moment before leaning down to grab it. The second you do you hear Bo’s rapid footsteps as he runs at you. You grab your bag and make a break for the door but he’s hot on your heels. When you exit out into the shop you’re already prepared for what you have to do. You aim your gun and shoot at the door, once cracks the glass, twice breaks through. You jump through the opening you made and the sharp edges of the glass catch at your limbs but you don’t dare stop. You run without looking back and when you reach the road you pick a direction.

GO LEFT

Towards town to find help

GO RIGHT

The same way Lester drove off

#ambrose cyoa #house of wax #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #slasher imagines #slasher x reader

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elareine · 4 years

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@scootboot97 and I did a thing! Or, well, he did and I tagged along.

Winners get road rash

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd Additional Tags: TransboyRoy, Alternate Universe - College/University, and they were roomates, Cunnilingus, in this house winners get rewards, Friends to Lovers, Trans Roy Harper

Roy was lying on the bed when Jason walked in quietly, shutting and locking the door behind him. There was one long leg stuck straight up in the air as Roy used the bed frame to do some stretches. His race uniform was tossed in a heap on the floor, and while Jason had been getting them drinks, he’d changed into something more comfortable: A soft blue tank top and his least favorite shorts, the loose black ones that fall right off his hips if he’s not careful.

“Gotchu that soda. Winners get sodas round here.“

There was a chuckle from the bed, tired but amused. “Winners get road rash, Jaybaby.“

Roy whined as Jason sat on the bed, jostling his legs. With his legs down, Roy could see Jason carefully making himself at home on the bed, kneeling so he could look at Roy. Although he seemed to be trying to look literally anywhere else.

“Dude, I took my pants off and they were stuck to my fuckin’ thighs, man.“ Roy tossed his head back on the pillows and tried not to shift his thighs. He did, however, wiggle his painted toes at Jason. “Sorry if I stink. I need to take a shower.“

Jason sniffed, getting a snort from his friend. “Nah, I like how you smell after a hard run, it's nice. Don’t worry ‘bout it.“

Jason shifted a little, watching Roy play with his phone, the thoughts of that afternoon’s race echoing in his head. He couldn’t believe he’d fucking said that. The sight of Roy sprinting down that field to cross the finish line, the knowledge that Roy had looked directly at him and put a whole new burst of speed on...it had done something to his brain.

He’d meant to say how proud he was, but instead, what he’d whispered in his best friend's ear as Roy leaped into his arms was: “God, I want to eat you out after this.”

Roy had laughed and winked before kissing his cheek and demanding to be brought to his teammates. The ride home had been normal. Roy had gobbled down wings and pizza after the race and settled in for a half nap in the front seat of the truck.

Now, it was strange. Maybe it was just Jason, but the air felt thick, warm, and heavy in the bedroom.

Roy moved again and a tiny whimper burst out of his mouth. “I should go look at these in the bathroom where the light is good,“ he mumbled to himself.

Jason looked at his covered thighs and, without thinking, spoke: “Can I see?“

His face burst into flames, and the room lapsed into silence.

Roy sighed deeply. He was bone tired and almost whiny. “Yeah, sure.“ One hand came off his eyes and pointed at Jason, snapping his fingers when he pointed at the silky black sleep shorts. “Just pull ‘em down if you wanna see. I’ve got undershorts on.“

Roy swore he could feel the air in the room get heavier. The fan was the only noise as Jason took a deep breath. For a second, Roy thought he’d fucked up, but then large hands gently tug on his shorts, and like usual, the stupid silky bastards just slid off like water. Jason’s tiny gasp made him sit up a little.

His friend was staring at him, eyes locked on his maroon panties, the soft ones with the lace edges and the big flower print. Roy didn’t know what to say. He forgot he’d put them on entirely. He was coming down from the adrenaline now, feeling sleepy and forgetful. So he didn’t say anything, just shifted his left leg to the side a little, flinching when his thighs screamed at him; a sighing whimper dragged free as the raw and bloody skin stretched.

There was the sound of shuffling, and then Jason was between his thighs, pushing up on his knee to get more light. “Jesus, your thighs are fuckin’ wrecked, bud.” Jason’s hand gently trailed up his thigh, tracing the edges of a formerly bleeding raw patch.

Roy bit back a tiny noise as Jason bent down, placing a painfully soft kiss on the road rash. Suddenly the room was burning hot. All he could hear was his heartbeat as he remembered what Jason had whispered in his ear at the finish line.

A wave of desire flooded through him, and it felt like the world slowed down for a moment. “Jason?”

His voice was quiet, and Jason gave him a noise of acknowledgment before he turned to kiss the other wounded thigh as well.

Roy took a deep breath. “You can do it. That thing you said you wanted to do at the race today.“

Jason looked up at him, crouched between his thighs and holding his legs gently. “Really?”

Roy looked down at him, hands coming away from his tank top to pick gently at the hem of his panties. “Yeah, I’d like that.“

Jason's face flushed again and Roy knew his own was doing the same. All that he can hear is the fan blowing the air around, or maybe that was outside and the wind was howling.

Jason took a deep breath and grinned at him.

The familiar excited grin on his handsome face eased some of the weird nerves that Roy couldn’t beat down. He still let out an anxious humming noise when Jason pressed a kiss to the edge of his panties. Jason's hands came up to cover his, stilling them gently as he pressed another kiss to the soft skin of Roy's stomach, then lower to where his thighs weren’t quite covered by the lace anymore. He had freckles here too, some of them rubbed off by the bleeding edge of the road rash.

“I didn't realize you had freckles down here too,“ Jason teased. He bumped his nose against a patch of them.

It brought a surprised chuckle out of Roy. “I’m fucking covered in them.”

"I can tell," Jason murmured, distracted again when he followed the trail of them up. He let one hand slide down, hooking a finger through the hip part of Roy's underwear. Then he tugged gently.

The lace was soft and slid easily when tugged. It felt soft and cool against Roy’s skin, which just reminded him of the reason he put them on. His free hand was twisted in his shirt for lack of a better place to put it. Jason's soft kisses against his thighs and belly made his heart race and his body flush, but the gentle nuzzles against his freckled thighs were amusing.

Roy watched as Jason slid the panties all the way down his legs, lifting them up with easy strength to keep the silk from getting tangled. The loud, smacking kiss Jason pressed to his ankles made him giggle, as did Jason’s roguish grin as he stuffed the panties into his own pocket.

Then Jason crawled back up the bed and settled down between his legs, and Roy felt a lot less like giggling and more like want. He could feel his face burning bright red as he locked eyes with Jason. The urge to fidget or say something stupid was coming on strong. Desire washed over him like a small wave as slowly, carefully, Jason's hand wandered upward again.

“Gentle on the rash.“ Roy tossed his head back against the pillows and tried not to overthink things as Jason’s hands ran up his thighs, gently spreading them.

“Did I touch it? Shoot, I’m sorry, baby.“ Jason leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to his hip.

“No, but your hands are really big.“

Jason grinned. It made Roy shiver with the promises it contained. “Well, let me make up for it.” With that, he pressed another kiss to Roy’s skin—this time just to the right of his clit. When that made Roy’s legs spasm under his hands in surprise, he stayed there, moving up and down with teasing little licks, exploring.

Roy let out a soft whine and pressed his hands over his eyes. "Holy heck," he whispered. His legs twitched again under Jason's hands, toes curling and stretching out as he slowly relaxed into the bedding.

Jason chuckled at his choice of expletive, and huh, that sure was some kind of feeling. It was distracting enough that Roy didn’t tense when he felt Jason use his forefinger and thumb to spread his labia. All it did was make more room for his friend to work in.

Roy tried really hard not to knee Jason in the shoulder as he squirmed. His friend's warm hands felt like they were burning against his skin. Roy could feel sweat dripping off his skin as Jason touched him. He would really need that shower after this.

Jason seemed fully intent on making a mess out of him. His hungry mouth moved to Roy's entrance, lapping up his fluids with a noise that made Roy squirm in embarrassment and pleasure. He gently took a fistful of Jason's soft thick hair, looking down at him to watch briefly.

Jason leaned into his hand encouragingly.

"Fuck, Jay, you’re really good at this," Roy hissed.

Jason flashed him a grin, pulled away just to mumble: “I live to please.”

Roy rolled his eyes at Jason's comments. His smile was contagious, though, warming his chest with something besides arousal.

Jason’s fingers moved up as he spoke, gently teasing his entrance. This time, Jason didn’t ask, but Roy could see, feel his eyes on him, posing a question.

Roy nodded at him, chewing on his lip. A smile forced its way onto his face when Jason just raised his eyebrow. "You can, um, continue?"

Jason leaned over and kissed his hip bone. "Yeah, baby? Continue?"

Roy huffed, face red as his hair, "Please keep touching me. I trust you not to hurt me, and it's really nice." He dared a pout. "Was that what you wanted?"

“Hmmm.” That noise was pressed to his skin. Jason was pretending to deliberate, but he couldn’t fool Roy—the other boy was still blushing almost as much as he was. “I suppose that’s satisfactory.”

"Lookin’ pretty red there, Jay," Roy teased.

Jason turned his head and gently sank his teeth into some undamaged skin on Roy's upper thigh in punishment.

Roy tossed his head back and whined. The noise was unexpectedly loud in the hushed room.

Jay giggled at him, nuzzling into his hip bone. "Look at you being all noisy for me."

“Shut up,” Roy groaned; then groaned again when he realized his mistake.

Too late, Jason was already running with it. “Oh, gladly.” With that, he slid two fingers into Roy, latching onto his clit again at the same time.

Roy tossed his head back with a tiny whimper, fingers clenching in Jason's hair. "Fuck!" he whined, shifting in the larger boy’s grip and pushing into his mouth. Another soft whimper escaped his mouth before he found his words again. "Jay, you're driving me insane."

There was no reply except a hum, which didn’t help matters. (Or did, depending on how you saw it.) Jason just kept going, eyes closing as Roy tugged on his hair. Roy could feel his thighs start to tremble, noises spilling out of his mouth unchecked. His neighbors were going to hate him after this, but he couldn’t help it.

Jason grinned, leaning into the tugs on his hair that were becoming more forceful as Roy lost himself. He was pulling like a cat kneading on a blanket.

Roy let out a loud whimper as Jason pushed a third finger inside. His thigh muscles pulled tight, and Jason could hear a soft pop come from his hip. Determined, Jason curled his fingers inwards just a bit, filling Roy up so good, and that was it, Roy couldn't—

"Jason, fuck!"

His thighs trembled and Roy ended up with one slung over Jason’s broad shoulder as his mind blanked for a second. Whimpers spilling out of his mouth as Jason didn't stop.

For a second, Jason visibly considered taking himself in hand, but Roy's leg was slipping off his shoulder with the motion and keeping him there was apparently a priority. So Jason’s hand went back up, allowing him to slowly start fucking Roy again even as he couldn't help rubbing his hips against the soft comforter.

Roy’s body was pulled tight from his thighs to his shoulders, and his hand was clenched tightly in Jason's hair, still holding him firmly in place. Jason slowed down for a bit, letting Roy relax against the bedding.

Roy whimpered, hand going from pulling strands out to gently petting Jason’s hair. The change in pace, surprisingly, really did it for him. This time, the built-up was slower, gentler; just waves and waves of pleasure washing over Roy until he felt himself clench around Jason again, a soft moan leaving his lips as he watched the other shudder.

Jason kissed his friction-burned thighs, giving him a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his hand away and one by one sucked each finger clean. When he caught Roy looking at him, Jason winked. “I think it tastes good.“

"You're so embarrassing," Roy groaned, laughing.

Jason grinned at him. “Only for you, baby,” he teased. He gently set Roy’s leg down, then crawled up over him so they were face to face. For a second, it looked like he was going to lean in and kiss Roy’s cheek, but then he paused.

Roy rolled his eyes. “Come here, fool.”

Jason made a face at him. "Well, excuse me, how much closer am I supposed to get?"

Roy gently slid his hands over Jason's arms and his shoulders. “Goofball. You literally just had your hand inside me, you don’t have to ask for a kiss.“ As he spoke, Roy pulled him down so Jason was resting against his chest, his thighs still pushed up by Jason’s hips.

"That's different," Jason grumbled, but he let his weight settle down on Roy a bit and finally moved in for a gentle kiss, so that was okay.

Jason broke the kiss and nuzzled into Roy’s neck, placing little wet kisses that made Roy laugh.

“Drool monster.” Roy wiggled his hips, sinking lower against the bed, stretching his legs further against Jason's wide hips. He could feel the hot damp weight of something decidedly not Jason's leg against him. “Were you going to just wait? You don’t have to, you know.“

"Hmmm, this is comfy, though..." Jason pretended to deliberate. Well. As much as he could with his face hidden in Roy's neck. "Can you even walk?"

Roy pinched him. “Oh, big talk! You think you can reduce me to being carried after two orgasms?”

Jason started to explain himself, but Roy shushed him: “Dork, I’m teasing you. Now let me up, I’m sticky.”

Jason obeyed, if reluctantly. There was a bit of a pout on his face as he watched Roy get up—until he grinned. "Let's see what you say after the shower, then."

Roy let out a tiny whimper as he stood. He was sore from head to toe, pleasantly so. He felt wet and sticky. Even the hem of his tank top had a damp spot on it. He grinned back at Jason, fighting down a snicker as he took in the state of Jason's boxers.

Jason, with whatever dignity he had left after all of this, ignored Roy's laughter and, instead, held out a hand. "We good?"

Roy took his hand and stepped in close, leaning his head against Jason's chest. “We’re fine, you big puppy.”

He leaned up on his tiptoes and wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. Jay’s erection pushed against his belly as he leaned up for a kiss. “We’re fine, baby. Now go run me that hot shower. If I have to lean against that ice-cold wall, I’ll die.”

(Endnote by @scootboot97: HI my names Tobiismycat(or scoot ) and if your a trans boy and your reading this I would like to let you know, I too am a trans boy. I have wild anxiety that other trans boys will think I'm a traitor to my species for not giving my trans boys in fiction dysphoria. while I am sure this is not true. I'd just figured id let you know.)

#jayroy #elareine writes #tobi writes #winners get road rash

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johnshelbysbabygirll · 4 years

Text

Lost without you - JOHN SHELBY X READER

Words: 2323

Warnings: angst, cursing

i’m back with a new one and i hope you like it

and also, i hope tonight i will be able to post another one about Christmas. i’ll try my best!! xx

Today is an awful day. For you, at least.

You decided to stay home and not go to the betting shop, even if you know that Polly and Linda needs help. You didn't find the strength to face anyone. Especially John. He didn't came home in the last two days, but he is more than fine with fuckin Lizzie having a bloody affair.

The kids are outside with the nannies and the house is quiet. You sink in the tub and you close your eyes, thinking and not wanting to think at all. But you don't understand what you did wrong. Why weren't you enough? Since the first day of marriage, you worshiped John and the ground he walks on, you always trusted and loved him. It was your mistake.

Back then, three years ago, he didn't loved you. He married you because that meant peace between your families, but days passed by and he started to love you. Or so you thought. You love his four kids with Martha as much as you love Mia, the only child you have together. But that wasn't fucking enough for him.

You were angry a few hours ago when you found out, but now you are just empty. And that it's worse. You keep your eyes close, trying so much to keep your calm and to not cry anymore. Your eyes are bloodshot enough.

But just a few moments later, you hear noises downstairs and you know that the nannies are not back with the kids yet; they just left. You try to ignore it until you hear his raspy voice calling you.

- [Y/N]? Where are ya love?

He keeps calling for you and you hear his voice and steps closer to the bathroom.

- Piss off, John! You scream when he try to open the bathroom door.

- What are you doin 'ere? Open the door, [Y/N]!

You don't move a finger.

- [Y/N]! He shout again and his voice was threatening.

Your heart jump off your chest when you hear a loud kick and in the next second the door was on the floor. John casually enter the room with a big proudly grin on his lips. He is bloody handsome only wearing a white shirt with the sleeves raised on his arms; he had just took of the tie and the vest. But you try not to think at that anymore cause he is a liar.

- Have you lost your fuckin mind?! You scream but you still try to keep your mouth close. Of course you can help it when he is smirking, knowing what he did.

- What's with this attitude? He simply ask and you don't answer. You don't even look at him.

- Do you think I'm a stupid-...He started his angry speech, but stopped in this tracks. Just fuckin answer when I talk to you, [Y/N].

- Can you give me my robe?

He is left speechless at your disobedience. Sometimes he loves that about you, but sometimes he just wants to fuck the stubbornness outta you. "Sometimes" meaning most of the times like right now.

- No, I can not. Stay naked.

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you walk out of the tub anyway. You feel John's glare all over your body and your clit quickly start pulsing, but you remember the reason behind your attitude.

- Why are ya like this? Wha did I do again?

In the last months you and John argued a lot, but you always managed to figured it and ended up having angry sex and make up sex. Not this time.

- You forgot how to speak with that big mouth? He grab your hand and spin you around to face him. His face changed from angry to sad when he saw tears on your eyes and cheeks. Tell me what's wrong, love.

- You forgot you have a wife?! You scream in his face and pull your hand out of his touch.

- I had bus-...

- I do not give a fuck! You think I am stupid? You think that I don't know that you just started a war with the Changrettas? All for Lizzie? Think again, John cause I fuckin know and I am fuckin leavin for good.

John looked away from your pained face. He argued all day with Polly and Arthur because of what he did, but Tommy at least was on his side. He didn't expected you to know and he was caught up off guards.

- Of course Polly told ya.

- Ya, as a matter of facts, she fuckin did! Of course she fuckin did! If not, I would still wait home for ya lying ass!

You walk out of the bathroom with the robe on, but as soon as you enter the bedroom you start to get dress, John following you right back.

- I didn't lied to you and I didn't cheated. He says with a frown when he saw the bags on the bed.

- Then explain me. What the fuck that meant?

You can't look into his eyes, not when you can barely see cause of the tears. Your heart it's broken because of what you have to do, but you can't live with him knowing he cheated. You will miss him and the kids so fuckin much and it will hurt like hell, but...Maybe this it's not the end of the world.

- I just protected her.

- Why?! You screamed and you gesticulated with your hands, still crying.

He stay silent.

- Because you still love her. But you are so stupid, John. She is fuckin Tommy and you are right there, risking your life for a whore while I'm staying home all alone with our kids!

- She's not a-...

You glare at him with your eyes full of rage as you pointed your finger at him.

- Don't you dare, John.

You push him into his chest and you scream in his face, not wanting to keep your mouth shout anymore.

Don't you fuckin dare took her side in front of me!

You want to push him once more, maybe even slap him, but he grab your wrists to keep you in place and you can see that he is angry as well, but you are angrier and you don't wanna behave anymore.

- I don't love her, [Y/N]. I'm not even sure I did, not the way I love you now.

- Then why did you do it, John? You whisper and you take a step back when he come closer to you.

He hesitate a few moments while looking at you. He talked again after he poured himself some whiskey.

- I guess I just didn't like the view of her with that worm.

- Jesus Christ...You don't love her, but you want her for you? Bullshit.

That's all you can say with a puff and a sad smile on your lips. You're clothes and things are already packed, so now you just have to left. But that was the hardest part. You grab the two bags, but of course he stop you by holding your arm. You are with your back at him and you turn around to face him, dropping the bags and angrily wiping the tears away from your cheeks.

- What do you want from me? You already took everything you could! My stupid innocence, my fuckin heart and soul! Now, do me a favor John and let me leave.

You cried in front of him once again, you're voice cracking at almost every sentence. John can see the youth dried off your eyes and body because of him. When he realize that, he let go of your arm a little and was now just holding on your fingers, not ready to let you leave for good.

- You want a divorce?

The words stuck into his throat, but he has to know what you wanna do. When you nod with tears in your beautiful but sad eyes, something inside of him just broke. You always had fights over stupid or not so stupid things, but you never wanted to leave until now and John never considerate it until this finale moment.

- When you marry a Shelby, you stay fuckin married [Y/N].

John speaks as you reach the door. He is pouring himself another drink, trying to look just sad at your decision, not broken as he really is inside. He only felt like this when he found out that Martha died. He glare at you and his voice sounds like a threat when he speaks, not being able to control him when he thought about you with anyone else.

- You won't be happy with another man, [Y/N]. I won't let you.

- Wha'?

You frown and you are shocked. You hear it from the first time, but you can't believe he actually said that.

- You heard it. No one's gonna touch what's mine and a divorce won't change shit.

You look away from his eyes; they make your skin burn even across the room.

- You know damn well I'm gonna have their eyes for even lookin in your direction.

- You're outta your damn minds, John.

That was the last thing you said to John one month ago. You never really saw him since that day and you don't want to. He didn't tried to talk with you once and that hurt you again.

The kids were staying at Polly's and you visited them a few times; they were fine, but they asked about you and their dad since he was never there to see them. You were furious, but you didn't showed that to the kids. You smiled at them, lying that their dad it's fine, just busy.

Back then to that day, he looked just a little sad about you wanting a divorce and that was all, he looked like he didn't care about you at all. But that's what he wanted you to see. In fact, he was at the ground. He was in a awful state and his family started to get worried about his health. But somehow you didn't know; until one day, when Tommy told you to talk with him, to get a decision together and maybe to put him on his feet again.

So, here you are at the Charlie's dock since John was here for you don't know what reason. They were standing by the fire, drinking rum as you hear Charlie speak.

- You have to get her back, boy. Cause if not you are a dead man.

You closed your eyes and sighed. John just looked at him as he puffed on his cigar but his eyes laid on you even at this distance between you and them.

- [Y/N]? John asks with big eyes, blinking a few times to make sure he is not hallucinating from the opium.

You come closer to them and you say hello to Charlie; he says back smiling at you as he left you two alone to talk, already knowing you're coming from Tommy and Arthur. You stand by John on the log and a few moments you both are quiet until you softly speak.

- Why you didn't went at Polly's to see the kids? They miss you.

His head was falling in the front, he tried his hardest to keep his eyes open as he looked at the fire, taking with a tough voice. You never saw him this drunk before.

- Cause they would ask me about you...They love you more...Than they love me.

- That's not true, you say and sigh.

- What should I say to them? That you want a fuckin divorce, [Y/N]?

He stand up from the log and he wasn't stable on his feet. He was getting nervous as well, but you try to keep him calm. You hoped you two can talk peacefully without a fight, but it's impossible when it comes to the Shelby men.

- I do not want a divorce, not at all.

He turned to look at you, confused.

- Then?

You stand up and as you reached him, you tried to take the bottle from him. You grab his chin to make him look into your eyes and his fingers slowly let go of the bottle. His beautiful blue eyes are tired, bloodshot and troubled. You thought that he was fine with the idea by now, but you can see into his eyes in how much pain he really is.

- Then wha' do you want, [Y/N]? Cause I know I don't wanna lose you. I am...I am dead without you, I am losin myself.

His voice was raspy as he whispers, too drunk to talk without pauses, but you understand anyway and you know that he is honest about this. He is always open up to you when he is drunk.

- I spoke with Lizzie. I know you did it to protect her, but...Why you never talk with me? I wanted to hear it from you, John. Not from her.

He is trying to keep up with your words.

- I love you, John, I really do. But...Do you still love her? Cause if you do, I can't...

He stays silent and you close your eyes, scared because you don't really know what his silence means.

- No. I care...I care about her. You? You are the only one I love.

He grab your cheeks, leaning into you at the same time.

- I love you. I can't and I...I don't wanna lose you.

He softly kiss your mouth and you kiss him back, not being able to resist him. He let his forehead on yours and you were looking on each other eyes, you trying to keep him still. You smile at his words and you press a little kiss on the back of his hand.

- You won't. I'm yours.

#John Shelby #Johnxreader #John Shelby imagines #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagines #Arthur Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Shelby imagines

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melamemea · 5 years

Text

euphoria. episode one.

sentences drawn from the series ‘euphoria’ on HBO. trigger warnings apply; drug use, sex, rough language. viewer discretion is advised.

“i was once content.”

“I was repeatedly crushed.”

“I can heard you, i can hear you.”

“What are you doing?”

“Explain this shit to me.”

“You find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.”

“I’m just fucking exhausted.”

“It’s pretty fucked up.”

“At some point you make a choice about who you are and what you want.”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“What’s with the sunglasses?”

“I just showed up one day without a map or a compass.”

“I didn’t build this system, nor did i fuck it up.”

“And then it happens. That moment when your breath starts to slow.”

“Every time you breathe out all the oxygen you have.”

“Everything stops. Your lungs, your heart --- and finally your brain.”

“I didn’t want to fuck up anyone’s night.”

“It’s all I ever wanted, those two seconds of nothingness.”

“I’m very happy for you.”

“You’re about to start a brand-new chapter.”

“I had no intention of staying clean.”

“Shit, I don’t know.”

“She came in yesterday, lookin’ all sailor moon and shit.”

“I’m fucking with you. It was a joke.”

“I thought your ass was dead.”

“I have zero fucking idea what you said.”

“I don’t know. I don’t give a fuck. She broke up with me.”

“Yeah... shut the fuck up.”

“I’m disgusting.”

“He’s not a loser. He’s a dick.”

“Y’all need to walk into this party like your pussy costs a million dollars.”

“You just need to catch a dick.”

“Can you not be a cunt for like fifteen seconds?”

“What? Don’t walk away from me.”

“You know what? I don’t trust you.”

“I just said I was out to fucking eat.”

“You are not leaving this house until you take drug test.”

“Girl’s gonna be the death of me.”

“You lose your right to privacy when you overdosed.”

“I know a lot of you probably hate me right now, I get it.”

“I’m sorry for slamming the door earlier.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Oh... I don’t know. Some party, or something.”

“Have you seen her slut pages though?”

“She’s like a fucking freak.”

“Relax, no one gets here till ten.”

“The fact is, she’s a fucking whore.”

“Bro, she likes car, man.”

“Yo, did you say that you don’t know what she’s done?”

“Take a sea. You and I are going to take a little trip to the land of shame bro.”

“Nudes are the currency of love.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Who’s that handsome, nice guy who came over last night?”

“And the Oscar goes to...”

“Shut you virgin asses up.”

“Why do you keep staring at me?”

“I’m sorry. Kinda spaced out for a second?”

“Wasn’t being weird, was i?”

“I don’t wanna sound corny, but you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You always this wet?”

“Kind of... It’s super embarrassing.”

“Everyone on the planet watches porn. Fact.”

“I don’t know? I thought you liked that?”

“Why the fuck would I like anything like that?”

“I’m really sorry okay.”

“You know I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Just don’t do it again. Unless you ask me first.”

“I don’t drink and bike.”

“Is that...?”

“Oh shit, slow down.”

“Wait, didn’t you, like, die?”

“I’m envious of your generation. You guys don’t care that much about rules.”

“And then, the night got weird.”

“I’m not always the most reliable narrator.”

“But Nate was fucking on one.”

“Get undressed, I wanna go swimming.”

“You’re so hot.”

“I know.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“No I’m not, I’m just trying to get back on my fucking ex-boyfriend.”

“What’s the deal with your friend?”

“Are you a slut?”

“Yeah. I’m a savage.”

“Stop playing, you’re a prude.”

“Most girls don’t know how to suck dick.”

“How much of a slut are you?”

“Why don’t you come find out?”

“Why don’t take your top off?”

“Like --- what? Right in front of these two?”

“Yeah. I dare you.”

“What? What, what, what, what?”

“Well, to be honest with you, your whole drug shit made me feel uneasy.”

“I like you, and I missed you bro.”

“I’m serious. I’ve seen a lot of people die.”

“I don’t know what type of fucked up shit you’ve got stuck in your head.”

“Your drug shit is not the answer.”

“I’m too high to be having this conversation right now.”

“Me fucking too.”

“Yeah that’s real classy you fucking whore.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Get out of here. Get the fuck outta here.”

“What the fuck are you looking at?”

“Who are you?”

“You’re a friend...”

“Who the fuck are you friends with?”

“Do you guys know who the fuck this is?”

“So, who are you?”

“I’m just minding my own business.

“Yeah, no, nobody who looks like you minds their own business.”

“So, what you want?”

“You want some fucking attention?”

“You wanna fucking hurt me?”

“I just lost my virginity.”

“My little slut! I’m so proud of you!”

“Where are you headed to?”

“Can I come with you?”

“Remember when I said things got weird?”

480 notes · View notes

katehuntington · 5 years

Text

Title: Ride With Me (part two) Fandom: Supernatural AU Main characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±5400 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part two: Jo picks up Y/N from the airport and doesn’t waste any time warning the intern for a notorious wrangler called Dean Winchester. When she arrives at Gold Canyon Ranch, she soon understands why. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Broken Halos’ - Chris Stapleton (car scene) and ‘No Good’ - Kaleo (saloon entry). (check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify!) Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @coffee-obsessed-writer and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

It stops raining just as suddenly as it started coming down, but the asphalt in front of the airport entrance still shimmers under the streetlights. Knowing that it's going to take at least forty-five minutes for her ride to arrive, Y/N treated herself to a cup of coffee from Starbucks, which she sips on while seated on her suitcase. Whenever a set of headlights approaches, she looks up hopefully, but up to now, all cars have passed by. With a bored sigh, she tucks her flat-ironed hair behind her ear and yawns, despite the caffeine she’s consuming. She checks her phone again. “Come on, already…”

When she looks up from the device, a black pickup pulls up to the curb. It triggers her to straighten her back and seek eye contact with the driver. As the car comes to a stop, a young woman has turned to look outside her downed passenger window. “Are you Y/N?” “Yes,” she responds a bit hesitantly as she rises. The driver grins and signals her to come closer. “Well, get in. I ain’t got all night!”

Y/N smiles back somewhat nervously, draws out the grip of her suitcase and rolls it to the side of the car. With difficulty, she manages to push the heavy load in the open cargo area, making sure not to scratch the paint or spill her coffee, after which she hastens to the passenger-door and gets in. Before she settles down, Jo picks up her ivory white cowboy hat from the seat and puts it down behind her, offering her passenger a place to sit. As she does so and closes the door, the driver holds out her hand. Y/N shakes it, surprised by the strength of the young woman’s grip. “Jo Singer,” she introduces herself. “Welcome on the Gold Canyon Ranch Express.”

While Jo steers the car back on the road, Y/N takes her in. She’s slender, not very tall, but the confidence she radiates makes up for that. She’s rocking the ripped jeans and western boots, a comfortable loosely knitted sweater covers the skin that her tank-top doesn’t. The young woman has plaited her hair in a messy braid which falls down from her left shoulder. With one hand at twelve o’clock on the wheel and the other casually hanging outside the door, she averts her focus from the road for a brief second, turning to her passenger.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait. Cattle just came in and Dad got a little caught up. He gets that way sometimes,” Jo apologizes as she lowers the volume of the radio. “That’s okay,” Y/N assures, holding up her coffee. “I had company.” “What is that, by the way? Do I smell cinnamon?” Jo eyes the coffee container as if it’s alien. “It’s a Cinnamon Dolce Latte,” Y/N states before taking a sip. “A what now?” Registering Jo’s expression, she sniggers. “Cinnamon, coffee, and milk, basically.” “Fancy.” The driver grins. “You’re from up north, right?” “Yeah. Freeport, Maine,” she elaborates. “It’s quite a change of scenery.” “I’ll bet,” the cowgirl behind the wheel reckons. “Ya’ll have pretty cold winters over there, huh?”

Curiously, the new girl looks over at Jo. The Southern charm in her voice is rich. Her accent has a lot more soul to it than the ones she picked up in the arrival hall and the coffee place back at the airport. Not even the local taxi drivers who were chatting as they waited for a ride sounded like Jo.

“Yeah.” Y/N nods, answering the question after a beat. “Lots of snow too.” “You won’t ever be cold in Arizona, I can promise ya that, Yankee.” Y/N chuckles. “Yankee?” “That’s what us Southerners call Northerners,” she explains. “Better get used to it.” “I thought Arizona was considered the Southwest,” the intern says. Now it’s Jo’s turn to smirk, as she gives her a side-eye. “Aren’t you as smart as all get out? But you’re right. My folks are from the South. The ranch belonged to my grandpa back in the day. When he got too old to work the land, Mom and Dad moved in to help and took over when he passed. I was born and raised here in Gold Canyon, but what can I say? It’s hard to lose the slang when you’re around a bunch of Southerners.”

Jo continues to make small talk. Y/N doesn’t mind it, though. It’s nice to get to know the ranch owner’s daughter and at least there’s not an awkward silence dwelling in the old pickup. Easy conversation about the weather is soon traded for other subjects, like the ranch and the horses. “Dad mentioned you’re a reining rider. What level are ya?” Jo asks. “Debuted in Open a couple of months ago.”

She tries to stay modest, but a proud smile forms on Y/N’s lips anyway. Hours of practice and years of training have brought her to the highest level in reining sport. When the letter from the National Reining Horse Association came in to inform her of the promotion from Non-Pro to Open, she remembered being so excited that she ran through the house screaming high pitched and hugged her parents so tight, she almost suffocated them. It took hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, but she made it. It all paid off.

“Whoa, you must be pretty damn good then!” Jo responds, eyebrows raised, impressed. Y/N doesn’t really respond, not sure how to take the compliment. Instead, she looks down at the coffee container in her lap. “What about you?” “I’m not a reiner,” the cowgirl smiles. “I race barrel.”

Now, it’s Y/N’s turn to be fascinated. Surely, reining is an exciting discipline of horse riding, but barrel racing is a whole other ballgame. She always enjoys watching it at the rodeo. The speed, the acceleration, the tight corners around the barrels, beating the clock, every fraction of a second counting; it’s the definition of thrilling.

“What’s your PR?” she wonders. Jo looks at her sideways, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “16.1 seconds.” Y/N huffs, amazed. “That’s fast!” The ranch owner’s daughter shrugs it off. “I’ve got a very good horse.” “My grandfather taught me that a horse will never become extraordinary unless it’s matched with a skilled rider.” Jo smiles at those wise words and gazes at the road ahead.

The beams of the headlights reach out several yards in front of them. Everything beyond remains in the darkness of night. Although the rain stopped falling down on the dry and thirsty land, clouds still shield out the frail moon’s radiance. They left Metro Phoenix about ten minutes ago and Y/N can barely see what’s out there, but what she can see, captivates her. For a girl who has never been to the southwest of the US, it seems foreign, not from this planet even. A pair of tail lights glides down the straight two-lane freeway towards an invisible horizon, while a few lights on the mountains give an idea of the relief in the east. Dust, sand, and rocks alongside the road are all that she can make out, joined with tall cacti and small bushes every now and then. This is the first time she has seen a cactus in its natural habitat. She didn’t know they could grow that tall.

“You should stay away from those when you go on a trail, especially the little fluffy lookin’ ones,” Jo suggests, noticing her passenger’s amazement as she watches the cacti pass by. “There’s nothing fluffy about the damn things when you get too close. I’ve seen the most gentle and laid back horses go full bronc after running their ass into a ‘cholla’.” Y/N chuckles; she can imagine that happening. Appreciating the tip, she turns her attention back to the driver. “Any other good advice for my first day tomorrow?” She dares to ask, curious about what lies ahead. Jo smiles at her, appreciating her eagerness. The girl beside her isn’t the first rookie to ask her this. To her, it’s a sign of insecurity, one that comes along with the lack of experience.

“You didn’t do a lot of ranch work back in Maine, did ya?” she confronts. Out of balance, Y/N looks aside at the driver, then averts her gaze. The gentle expression on Jo’s face should tell her that she doesn’t intend to make her feel uncomfortable, but she can’t help herself from moving in her seat a little, lost for words. “How can you tell?” she replies shyly. “Your boots are too clean,” Jo grins, nodding at the intern’s feet.

Somewhat stunned, Y/N looks down at her shoes. Wanting to make a good impression, she polished the brown leather. Honestly, she spent more time cleaning them than she normally would before a show, but it might have been a better idea to leave them dirty. A blush warms her cheeks as she shakes her head slightly; apparently, she’s a little too eager to prove herself.

“You got me,” she admits. “You’re right, I lack experience when it comes to stable work. But I really want to learn.” Thankfully, Jo takes away the embarrassment and seems to appreciate her enthusiasm. “Don’t worry about it. We had workers who didn’t even know how to pick out a hoof, let alone ride a horse,” she reassures. “You’ll be fine. Keep your eyes and ears open, your head low and if there’s anything you need, you can always come to me.”

Slightly put to ease, Y/N smiles at her shiny boots. Jo is right; she will be okay. There is no need to be nervous about tomorrow, she’s not completely oblivious after all. And with the ranch owner’s daughter as her new ally, she feels confident enough to believe that she will manage just fine.

A moment of quietness follows as the young blonde takes the exit and directs the pickup onto Superstition Mountain Drive, leaving route 60 behind them. Soft music comes from the amplifiers, a country ballad bathing them in pleasant tunes. Despite her insecurities, Y/N feels comfortable with Jo by her side, and as she glances over at her, a future image of them becoming friends forms in her head. It doesn’t seem unlikely, not at all. Her wit, her confidence, the joy that she seems to have in everything she does; she can appreciate that.

“There is one other piece of good advice I’m gonna give ya,” Jo continues after a while. “And it’s very, very important that you stick to it.” Curious, Y/N waits for a follow-up, eager eyes on the blonde cowgirl in the driver’s seat who waits a couple more seconds, underlining the importance of her message. “Do not, under any circumstances, fall for Dean Winchester.”

A little underwhelmed, Y/N’s facial expression shifts from confused to amused. She scoffs, for a second thinking she’s joking. Jo’s dramatic build-up prepared for a line she was going to remember during the tough moments while staying at the ranch, so it’s a bit of a downer when it resulted in advice on men.

“Who’s Dean Winchester?” she asks, unimpressed. “He’s a wrangler at the ranch,” Jo enlightens her. “Also a shameless womanizer who has broken more hearts than I can count. That bastard lures gals into his bed like it’s a fucking competition. Or in the haystack, his truck, the restroom of the saloon. Whatever place he finds fit to hump somethin’.”

Y/N’s jaw drops, after which she covers her mouth to muffle her chuckle. And ten minutes ago they were talking about the weather. Well, that escalated quickly. “I’m serious,” Jo underlines, noticing the cynicism in her passenger’s laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that. That’s not what I’m here for,” she assures the ranch owner’s daughter. “That’s what most of them say,” she returns, having heard this before.

For a second Y/N observes her co-driver as questions start to buzz around in her head. What are Jo’s motives? Might there be something more behind what seems like just good advice? “Did you…? Did you ever, you know…?” Insecurity overwhelms her once again, disabling her to form a proper sentence. A little confused, Jo looks over, but at the sight of Y/N’s raised eyebrow and a subtle smile twitching at the corner of her mouth, it suddenly dawns on her what she’s getting at. “What?! Oh, hell no!” She shudders in disgust. “Christ! He’s my cousin!”

Y/N eyes grow large when she realizes what she just implied, but then Jo snorts and they both burst out in laughter. How this conversation went from climate and desert flora to sex and men puzzles her completely, but she’s sure that she just gained a friend. When both of them can talk again after another convulsion of giggles, Y/N can’t help but wonder about this wrangler with a reputation.

“What’s so special about this Dean?” Jo wipes away tears that came running down her face in the uncontrollable laughing fit she endured. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

She switches on the turning signal and turns left onto a long driveway. Fenced pastures stretch out on either side, running up towards the hills. Cows are chewing their roughage at the hayracks, but look up when the headlights of the Chevrolet captures them briefly as the car passes. Up ahead, a wooden sign arches over the road. ‘Gold Canyon Ranch’ it says in bold capital letters. The pickup surfaces from underneath the sign and proceeds up the driveway, which fans out into a square. In front of a house - which is built from sandstone and has a red-tiled roof - Jo parks the car and turns off the ignition.

Amazed by the setting, Y/N gets out of the truck and takes it in. Several buildings, all in the same architectural style, surround the square as well. The soft and easing sounds of horses rummaging around in their stables originate from a large barn to the right of the family home. Then there’s that familiar and soothing smell of the farm, although the scent that’s reaching her senses now is sharper, more earthy than she’s used to up in Maine. Then another sound draws her attention; the sound of a cheerful crowd and country songs. Y/N looks over the top of the Chevrolet and watches Jo walk over to a building complex at the other end of the square.

“Leave your suitcase. Let’s fix us a drink first.” She hints at the saloon, from where the music is coming. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the bunch.” Y/N follows in a fast stride, forking her fingers through her hair and straightening it out quickly, then she tucks her checkered blouse into her jeans, even though she just decided that she was going to leave it hanging over her belt. This is ridiculous, she scolds at herself. Why are you so nervous?

She doesn’t have time to think about it, because when she’s about to catch up with Jo, the blonde swings open the double doors and makes her entrance. The musk of hard work mixed with beer and nicotine welcomes her, mingling with the lingering heat of the day. The music shifts to a new song, the guitars and a strong beat sounding through the space. Burning stares come her way as they walk into the saloon, making her feel like she got stuck in an old spaghetti western starring Clint Eastwood. Where is that cowboy to save her now?

“Look what I found out in the rain,” Jo jokes, casually putting an arm around Y/N’s neck. “Our Yankee!” Cheers rise from the group of men, glad that they made it back. Half-empty beer bottles litter the wooden surface of the table they are seated at; it’s clear that the party has been going for a while now, eyes getting hazy and laughs roaring louder. It’s a good thing that Jo basically drags her inside, because if she had been on her own, she would have frozen on the spot.

A middle-aged woman with chestnut brown hair steps from behind the counter to meet them halfway. With a dish towel hanging over her shoulder, she approaches the new face, smiling genuinely. “Y/N, this is my mom,” Jo introduces. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Singer,” Y/N greets, humble, remembering her name from the email exchanges they had to arrange her internship. “Please, call me Ellen. Welcome. Make yourself at home, honey,” she says as her husband flanks her. “And this is my old man.” Jo pats him on the back, triggering a mutter. “I’m not that old,” he states, redirecting his attention to the new guest. “I’m Bobby. Nice to meet you. Sorry ‘bout the delay.” “Oh, that’s alright,” Y/N smiles back at him, starting to feel more at ease.

The family seems really nice, but the group of men - which Y/N assumes is the ranch crew - still curiously lurks at her. Intimidated, she lets her eyes roam through the bar, trying not to stare. At home she had her brothers to back her up, their presence alone usually enough for guys to take a step back. But yet again she becomes painfully aware of the fact that she is on her own this time.

Her eyes glide over the workers and wranglers. At the far end of the table, a guy - who she guesses to be in his late twenties - looks back at her from under his cowboy hat. He has two poker cards in one hand and nurses a bottle of beer with the other, resting his strong forearms on the edge of the wood. Emerald green eyes seem to read her like an open book, taking her in with enough confidence in his expression to compensate for what she lacks. He puts his lips against the mouth of his beer bottle and takes a swig, slowly, without breaking eye contact. Did he really take his time or did her mind just process that in slow-motion? Suddenly aware that she’s staring, Y/N looks away and focuses on Jo again, who has continued the introduction.

“This is Ash, one of our wranglers and in charge of the cattle. Don’t let the hair fool ya, he’s a pretty swell guy under all the craziness.” She walks behind him, peeking into his cards. “Wow, you really just raised with a two and a three?” The guy next to Ash shoves two piles of chips forward, flashing the bluffer a big grin. Jo has settled between the two men, smirking at Ash’s annoyed face. Resting her folded arm on his shoulder, she turns her head and now puts a hand on her neighbor’s back. “Benny Lafitte. Best farrier in Arizona. Also, a master on the ground when it comes to starting young horses.” The man with a nicely trimmed beard tips his hat at Y/N, observing her with his blue eyes for a second before the ranch owner’s daughter moves on. “Over yonder is Garth. Wrangler and our man in the stables.” She nods at the fragile built guy with dark hair, who shyly looks up and greets the newcomer. “He’s harmless, great mounted shooter by the way.”

Jo straightens her back and folds her arms in front of her chest as she turns to her cousin. He doesn’t look back, though. His eyes haven’t left the new face, who forces herself to meet his gaze. After everything that Jo told her about this guy, she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being the spectator for her discomfort and shyness. But my God, she gets why the girls swoon by the sight of him. He has great features, a few days old scruff adding to his strong jawline. Broad shoulders pull at the fabric of his jacket, his strong fingers running slowly up and down the smooth glass of the bottle. He looks like he just walked out of a Marlboro commercial, western hat and all. “And this is Dean,” Jo states simply, observing them both. As the guy in question takes another swig of his drink, he finally tears his eyes away from Y/N. The weight that was pressing on her chest is lifted and instantly she finds it easier to breathe. “What? No catchy intro for me?” he asks Jo. “Now, I know it’s hard to describe a man like me with words--” “Oh, I already described you just fine, Winchester,” she returns impudently. “Every girl about to encounter you deserves a fair warning.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at that remark, not sure how to interpret the remark. His eyes flick back to Y/N again, startling her. She must have flinched, because her reaction ignites a grin. “You know us now, but what’s your name?” Dean asks, even though he is already aware. Pushing her self-consciousness out of the way, she speaks as clear as she can, not just addressing him, but the entire crew. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you all.”

When their gazes lock again, the cowboy’s smile grows a little wider and he flashes her a short and subtle wink. It’s close to unnoticeable, had she blinked she would’ve missed it, but she caught it, alright.

“Your turn, brother,” Benny calls for his attention on the game. Dean glances down at his cards once more. A pair of queens; surely he’s going along with the raise, but he doesn’t want to be obvious about his good hand. He shoves two stacks of chips forward to meet the stakes and waits for his friend’s response. Translating his expressions and possible tells, the blue-eyed wrangler stares back at him while dealer Garth unfolds the final card; a queen of hearts. Benny seems to ponder, but Dean doesn’t give him an inch.

The farrier throws in five more chips. “I raise with five hundred.” “One thousand,” Dean counters. Benny chuckles. He’s got to be bluffing, right? “Fine,” he agrees, adding five more to the pot as he throws down his cards on the table for his opponent to see. “A pair of Aces.”

A good hand indeed, but not good enough to win. Dean bites his lip, looks down at his cards, then back at the young woman that caught his eye. This time she’s prepared; Y/N doesn’t look away. All she does is stare back into those green orbs, standing her ground. Before it becomes obvious to the others in their company, Dean averts his gaze first. For Y/N it feels like a big win in this strange staring contest that started from the moment she walked in. The hand that Dean lays out on the table is his victory. Three of a kind just won him over three thousand chips. Interesting, how a queen of hearts in the last draw is the key to winning this game of cards.

“Well, shit!” Benny laughs, leaning back in his seat and admitting his defeat. “Guess the next round’s on me then.” “Let me pour you a drink, sweety,” Ellen suggests, bumping her shoulder into Y/N lightly. “You can use one after all that traveling.”

A heavy breath falls from her lips as she joins the ranch owner’s wife at the bar. Ellen isn’t wrong. Boy, she needs a drink, but not because of the long flight. The attention from Dean, him looking at her like he did; it’s unlike any attention she has ever received. It felt exciting and suffocating at the same time. Unable to truly understand what she is experiencing right now, Y/N thinks about what Jo said. The words she spoke in the car are starting to make sense now. The way this man has a grip on her since the moment she laid eyes on him, throws her off. He shouldn’t be having that effect on her, she’s not that kind of girl, after all. She’s the kind that keeps her eye on the ball and doesn’t let anything distract her. And if guys would try? She would give them a run for their money. With three brothers, Y/N learned to stand her ground in order to compete with her siblings. She developed a smart mouth and isn’t easily intimidated by men. But somehow all the lessons learned flew right out the window the moment Dean Winchester laid eyes on her.

“What are you having?” The one person who got her drowning in her thoughts settles on a stool on her right. She glances aside at Dean, who has a gentle smile on his surprisingly plump lips. “A beer would be great.” She turns to Ellen, who is waiting by the fridge for an answer. The wrangler puts up two fingers as he makes contact with his aunt behind the counter, signaling her to double it. Skillfully, she flips the caps off the bottles and hands them over. “Here ye go. On the house,” she insists, her expression gentle. “Thank you,” Y/N returns gratefully with a slight nod of the head.

As Ellen Singer leaves to join her husband, Y/N is forced to deal with the guy in the seat next to her. Conflicting emotions battle each other inside her chaotic mind. Working on this ranch is going to show her Dad that she can build a company worth his investment. It will teach her everything she needs to know about ranch work. She made an agreement with herself that she is going to use every second of her time to learn. Wasting it by fooling around with one of the wranglers does not fit in her schedule and it certainly isn’t going to deliver the message that she’s taking this internship seriously. But she cannot deny that a part of her is curious about this cowboy. He ignited a downright confusing interest, all that with a few lingering stares and a couple of words.

When she glances aside at the handsome man, elbows on the bar while holding her beer loosely by its neck, Jo moves into her peripheral vision. With a stack of plates in her hands, the blonde cowgirl enters the area behind the counter and continues to the kitchen, but not before shooting her new friend a glare that asks her what the hell she’s doing and tells her to stop it right now. Jo’s good advice fights its way to the surface and Y/N’s common sense takes over again. Dean didn’t take a seat because he likes her, he took that seat because he wants to get laid tonight.

“So--” he starts off. “Just let me get one thing straight,” Y/N interrupts, “I’m here to learn about the ranch management, not to entertain you during lonely moments. You might be able to wind any other girl around your finger, but not me, so forget it.” It’s out there before she’s able to stop herself. She doesn’t fully understand where the words came from and how she managed to gather the courage to speak up, but the harsh message is out, hovering between them and throwing her admirer off his game. Jo - who spied on them from around the corner - seems impressed and smirks, amused, before disappearing again.

She’s not the only one who is left stunned. Dean has raised his eyebrows and needs a moment to recover. “In my defense, I was gonna ask you if you were looking forward to your first day tomorrow,” he says with a chuckle, rubbing his chin. “I like to set boundaries,” she states, taking a swig of her beer. “Apparently.” Dean clears his throat, collecting himself before he speaks a little lower. “Good thing I like to break them.”

The charismatic man has turned towards her now, his hand holding the beer resting on the counter. He’s not hiding that this hard-to-get demeanor actually intrigues him more. His arrogance, on the other end, only fuels Y/N’s persistence to shut his attempt down. “It wouldn’t really be breaking boundaries if I’m just a number on the long list of girls you picked up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had a long day and tomorrow probably isn’t going to be much shorter, so I’m going to get some sleep.”

With those words, she knocks back the last of the beer and leaves the bottle on the bar. Before he can stop her, she hops off her stool. “I’ll show you the way,” Jo offers, surfacing from the backroom again. With a suppressed grin on her lips, she passes Dean, who watches the two girls walk away from him, flabbergasted.

It’s then when the puzzle pieces fall in place. That little bitch... Jo just cockblocked him! He bets his lovely cousin told all about his intermezzos with some of the women that have passed through these doors. She just ruined a perfectly good chance to get together with the new girl.

Without giving him one more second of her time, Y/N starts to walk towards the exit of the saloon, followed by Jo. “G’night, everyone.” They all reply, either with words or by waving, all but Dean. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, turning on the stool to meet his beer again. It doesn’t happen very often, but his pride has taken quite a punch. When he looked at the woman that had him do a double-take when she walked through those doors, he could have sworn he saw her react to him. Maybe you’re getting sloppy, he thinks to himself. Maybe you’re getting too old for this shit.

No, that can’t be it. Just because he’s heading towards those dreadful thirties, doesn’t mean he has to change the way he plays this game. Benny is half a decade older than him, he still lives like a bachelor and will most likely do so for the rest of his days. The intern probably has some history that causes her to act this way, a backpack full of misery; not something he wants to deal with anyway. Too complicated, at least that what he’s tries to convince himself of.

“Hey, amigo? What’s that on your face?” Ash looks over at the bar, observing the man who just got rejected. He shuffles the cards for the last game of the night. “Oh, I see it too,” Garth acknowledges, pretending to be shocked by the sight. “That doesn’t look so good.” Dean feels his cheek and casts a confused gaze at his friends as Benny starts to snigger. “That’s one ugly lookin’ red handprint that’s swelling up, man,” Ash continues.

Garth giggles, his laughter coming out in a high-pitched sniggering sound. By now Dean gets what’s going on and rolls his eyes. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these assholes. “That’s gotta hurt, Chief. Want me to get some ice for that?” Benny adds, sparkles in his bright blues. “Y’all can kiss my go-to-hell,” Dean mutters, unable to appreciate the banter.

Now all three burst out in laughter and even Bobby can’t help but join in a full belly laugh. After the fun, Benny gets up from his chair and walks over to fill the empty spot beside him. “I think this is a good thing,” he comments, his accent as gentle as Southern comfort. “It'll keep you sharp, a gal like that.” “She’s quite somethin’, isn’t she?” Dean smiles at his drink. “She ain’t easy, that’s for sure,” he agrees. “Good thing she ain’t the only lady friend in town.”

Benny redirects Dean’s eyes to a beautiful dark-haired woman at the pool table. Casey is a guest that enjoys her time at the ranch every holiday, especially since most of that time is spent with a certain wrangler. She must have arrived just now, because he didn’t notice her earlier. Or was that because his eyes and mind were too occupied by someone else? It doesn’t matter, because when Casey makes eye contact before pocketing the striped number thirteen, the sexual tension between them is already stirring up. He might not spend the night between the sheets with Y/N, but he will be satisfied by the end of the night either way.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part three here

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

The Grind-Chapter 15

He escorted me through the tinted glass doors into the predicted booming music filled bar room, people packed from wall to wall, over to a tall tabletop nestled in the corner. Very gentlemanly, he pulled out the empty chair to offer my seat.

“Alright, Liv Elliott, can I get you a drink? What’s your poison?”

“Thanks, uh, I’ll just have a beer, please.” I answered, quivering with slight nerves. He maneuvered his way through the crowd headed in the direction of the bartender, while I waited fretfully alone with my thoughts. He seemed to be nice enough, and clearly easy on the eyes, so much so that my agonizingly neglected sex life was taxing me towards the direction of just sleeping with the man tonight for the hopeful intent of an orgasm. But, he wasn’t my Colton. My emotionally confused, tormented, asshole Colton.

Snap out of it, woman. The guy dumped you. Very cruelly so. MOVE ON.

Drinks in tow, Luke two-stepped and squeezed through the crowd, making his way back to me.

“A beer for the lady,” he served with a wink. But it wasn’t the same wink that so long ago made me weak. It wasn’t like.. don’t say it, you pathetic fool. “You look stunning in the neon lights, you know?”

Dear God, please be joking with that line, man. He let loose a smothered laugh. Sweet relief. He wasn’t serious.

“Thanks, I think?” I accepted the cheesy, sarcastic compliment. “Tia mentioned you were a personal trainer. That must keep you pretty busy.”

“I do my fair share of push-ups, I guess, yeah. But I enjoy it, honestly. Especially when my clients see the results their looking for. It’ all worth it then, ya’ know?” Okay Luke, so you’re kind, and not a total airheaded muscle bag. Noted.

“Yeah, I’m sure the downtown housewives have a fit over you, huh?” I winked. “Ha ha ha, very funny. I’ll have you know I have several house dads on my clientele list as well, thank you.” He chimed matter of factly. “But, enough of me for now. I need to hear all about the glamourous, successful, posh life of the rising journalist, Liv Elliott.”

Wow. What load of shit had Tia been feeding this poor fellow? “Not much to know, sadly. I’m a bit of a workaholic these days. I was recently promoted at the newspaper I work for, which has definitely added to my work load.” I tapped my index finger on the dampened bar napkin beneath my sweating brown bottle. It did sound a bit tragic when I heard myself say it aloud. I was a soon to be 23 year old single woman, living in a bumbling metropolis, no children, no heavy responsibility other than a steady job which most of the time felt more like a paying hobby than an actual career, and I spent the vast majority of my life tucked away at my desk, or in my lonesome apartment with my nose tucked into my computer. Aside from the occurrences when Tia would suggest dinner, or the occasional appearance at a newly opened nightclub, which I was strangely enough beginning to enjoy a bit.

“Nothing wrong with dedication in my book! I admire that you take what you do seriously. And the fact that you’re a complete knockout just adds to the allure.” Luke said with eyes zeroed into my own. Swallowing the last swig of my drink, a pang of guilt flinched in my belly. I was genuinely enjoying the banter of small talk the evening had consisted of thus far, but the feelings didn’t go much deeper than that. Not to say necessarily I wanted to be there with Colton instead, because every ounce of remaining conscience within me advised otherwise. I felt it wasn’t wise to be out without anyone yet, considering the state I was in. After returning from the short visit back to Indiana, sure my emotional state was frequenting more on the border of happiness, and almost contentment rather than the doom & gloom of before. But, I was far, far from ready to dive into the dating pool again. The proven dangerous, unruly, painful dating pool. My heart not quite nursed back to it’s original state, and ready to open up to the next Pittsburgh man. Regardless of how purely genuine and handsome that man may be. Luke didn’t deserve to be trampled on, and strung about by an unstable mess of a woman living in a never-ending state of confusion.

“Oh gosh, Luke. Thank you, really.” I tucked a curled strand of hair behind my reddening ear. “Can I be super honest with you right now? At the risk of sounding like a total heartless wench…”

His look narrowed behind stringy eyelashes, and he leaned in. “Uh, sure? Yeah. Shoot.”

Flashes of what I imagined would’ve likely been a stable, routine, safe and steady relationship with the confused man across from me sparked through my thoughts. All the attributes any sane woman would hunt out in a partner, yet all the things to me that seemed, dull and tedious.

“You have been nothing short of a total charmer since our introduction tonight. And I-” I began before Luke interjected with a cautious smile, and knowing nod.

“Ohhhh, I think I know where this is headed.”

“Any woman, I mean literally any woman, including my clearly stupid self, would be lucky to be in your company. Which is why, I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror again if I carried this far enough to let you get hurt.” My saliva thick with nerves and what I hoped wasn’t regret as I let my date down as easily, and earnestly as I knew how. “You have no idea how bad I sincerely wish I could slap the ignorant decision I’m about to make right out of me… But, I’m just not ready, ya’ know? I’m kind of a pile of wreckage at the moment, and you don’t deserve to have to glue it all back together.”

He bobbed his head lazily and relaxed back into his chair. “As much as I don’t like it, I understand it. Tia kinda informed me that you were still reeling a little from your last relationship. But, since you were honest, can I be the same with you?” He asked politely.

“God, of course. Please!”

He pursed his mouth seriously before beginning. “The loser who did whatever he did to screw you over so badly, is a mindless asshole, who is apparently blind as well. I’ve spent all of a couple hours with you Liv, and even I can see what kind of woman you are. So, don’t sell yourself short, okay? Whether you give him another chance, or someone else who comes along, make sure he deserves you. And hell, by the way Tia talked you up, she might make her own play at you before it’s over.” I laughed at his response, especially his dig at my proud bi-sexual friend, who never hesitated to playfully suggest I take a walk with her on the other side of the sexuality fence.

As the conversation came to a close, Luke took my hand into his, and ushered me kindly to my car outside. I kissed him tenderly on the cheek before he reached down to open the handle of my door.

“If you think it’ll keep Tia off your back, I could always tell her our night ended at your place with hours of relentless love making, if you want.” I puckered my mouth in sincere contemplation of his suggested lie, but considered it be best for both our reputations if we kept it honest.

“As tempting as that little strategy of yours sounds, I think I better just suck it up and take the scolding from her. But thanks for lookin’ out for me.” A thoughtful smile slid onto his lips as he closed to door after I slid into the seat, before he jogged carefully across the crosswalk.

Following my date with Luke the night before, Tia had texted begging to meet up for brunch at a place closely located between the center of our apartments. I groaned at the backlash I’d no doubt have to suffer at her hand after I spilled the details of how things had played out with her set up. She’d arrived at the restaurant before me, and was seated at an umbrella covered, mosaic table on the front patio, already sipping leisurely on a mimosa. When she saw me approaching, she raised her hands to a cheerful clap, obvious that she hadn’t spoken to Luke yet. Or maybe, talking to Luke was exactly why she was so unreserved with her merriment towards me. Had he decided to go ahead with his salacious fictional story about what had happened a few hours ago between us?

“I ordered you a drink. Now sit, and spill, LC!” She’d decided that would be her given name for me, given my middle name was Caroline.

“Hello to you, Miss Nosey. Whatever happened to not kissing and telling?” I was giving it my all to avoid crashing her excitement.

“Don’t you dare! I need to hear everything!” She gasped with an exasperated eye roll.

When the waitress came back to our table, delivering my fluted glass and jotting down our order, I was thankful for the 3 extra minutes I had that allowed to me to escape her insistent questioning.

“Alright, but when I start talking, you have to swear you won’t interrupt. Just let me say my piece, okay?” I arched a pinky at her in expecting hers to return in a swear.

“I already don’t like what I’m hearing, ma’am….” She sighed between sips.

“He’s like, beautiful. Like Tom Cruise in Top Gun kind of beautiful. And he was so damn polite, Tia. The perfect gentleman. But, not in a stuffy way, ya’ know?”

“Yes, Liv. I do know. Which is exactly why I wanted you to go out with him to begin with. Go on…” She cocked an obvious displeased brow at me.

“And trust me 100% when I tell you that after I spent some time with him, I really, really tried, Tia. I wanted something to spark, I wanted to feel that little flutter in my belly around him,” I stressed in a contrite tone. “And I know if it had been any other normal, remotely rational female, that it would’ve happened that way…” Before I finished my plea, I downed the hefty remains of my mimosa hoping for an extra ounce of liquid courage. “I’m just n… not ready, I don’t think. I mean, I feel a million pounds lighter than I did 6 months ago, definitely. But, I don’t feel quite ready to move forward with dating anyone just yet.” I ended my thought, hoping there was a sliver of her that would understand where I was coming from. “Do you hate me?”

She huffed dramatically. “Oh fuck, Liv. Stop it! You know I don’t hate you. Its your life, and I’d never encourage you to do something you don’t feel up to. And, just because I know you’re driving yourself crazy with it, I just want you to know its okay to still love him. Colton, I mean.” I halted any movement as her words registered to me. Breathing included. “I know you despise him for what he did, and rightfully so. The shithead deserves it. But, it’s okay to love him, too. Don’t beat yourself up over that. Love is this stupid, weird, jolting roller-coaster that makes no sense. And whoever you strap into that seat with, whether it be Luke, or Colton, or some rando you haven’t even met yet, it’ll be right. You’re smart, LC. Trust yourself. And if you happen to strap in with someone who turns out to be a vicious psychopath, then I’ll be in the seat right behind you to throw the dude over the side, alright?”

The girl was a God send. I was so unbelievably thankful for my dangerously loyal friend. Something that now made my life somewhat whole. Almost as whole as the veggie omelet I inhaled, after a side order of cheese grits, of course.

“You’re the best. Like, the best of the best, you know that?” I complemented.

She shrugged daftly, smearing cream cheese heavily over her blueberry bagel. “You don’t deserve me, Elliott. What are your plans today?”

I hadn’t thought much about an agenda for today past the brunch with Tia, but I’m sure it’d consist of something along the lines of a yoga session in the living room, maybe a little research for the next match I had to cover, and lastly spending way too much time pruning in a bubble bath.

“Nothing as of yet. Where are you headed? Work today?” I supposed.

“No, I actually have the day off so I’m gonna head over to the Temple for an extra workout.” Tia was referring to Temple Fitness, the gym close by where she was a member.

“Do you have anything coming up? Like, fights, I mean?” She was still striving to get her feet wet in the world of fighting, so competitors weren’t exactly banging her door down with opportunities.

“Not yet, damn it. But my trainer keeps me in shape at all times, just in case something comes along,” she informed me.

Then, a strange glimmer lit inside her blue irises. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you come down with me? When’s the last time you put a workout in, you delicate little pansy?”

As much as I didn’t appreciate her brutal sarcasm, she was actually right. Not to discredit the wonders of hot yoga, but I hadn’t actually had my heart rate elevated in, well, nearly a year. With Colt out of the picture, I’d lost my running partner. Who was also my bedroom partner, which had been my definite first choice in the cardio department.

“Hey, I resent that remark, thank you very much! No matter how accurate it may be. I’d just be in the way though, Tia. You’re training, and I’d just be, standing around.” I laughed off her suggestion.

“There’s plenty of equipment, you bimbo. Ellipticals, treadmills, a pool. Plenty of things to keep you busy, and get your saggy little tush in shape,” Tia winked. “Or, the fancy MMA columnist could maybe do a little training herself to see what a day in the life of her subject is really like.”

I was instantly intrigued at the bold proposal. I’d gotten to sit the sidelines on everything Colton underwent in the days leading up to his match, but nothing remotely close to suffering it firsthand. We’d learned in school that there was no better way to “know” than to “do.” I would truly have the insiders point of view if I dabbled around with all that entailed in the life of a mixed martial artist, along with that added bonus of gaining what I very much lacked in muscle mass. Not to mention, the education of a bit of self-defense, which wasn’t a bad idea now that I no longer had my own personal body guard to escort me through the ruthless streets of the city. Damn, Tia and her endless ideas that sent my boxed zone of comfort crumbing around me.

“God, I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. Is there anything you can’t talk me into? Like, it’s getting ridiculous. Stop forcing me to be all, spontaneous and what not.” I spat sarcastically at her.

“Well, I haven’t talked you into bed yet, my oh easily persuaded friend. I’ve spared you,” Tia gawked foolishly across the table. I can only imagine the pink cloud of mortification overcasting my gaping jaw.

What crazy plan had she wrangled me into? My hesitant agreeance already a hard to swallow regret. But, she couldn’t drag me into too much trouble with just a bit of exercise, right?

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tom hardy fanfiction #tomhardyfanfiction #tomhardyfanfic #tommy conlon #elizabeth olsen #thegrind

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

Text

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Fifteen

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC | Word Count: 4542 Warnings: Swearing

They lazed away the day next to the river, sharing both the food and the peace of it in quiet solitude until the heat began to grow uncomfortable. If their speed on the way back to the farm amounted to nothing more than a slow amble, neither complained nor did the horses, heads down and relaxed, seem to mind.

Teddy was waiting for them when they returned, grin wide and knowing, though he said nothing, only grunted a greeting and took the stallion and the gelding away.

Nodding to the older man, Loki collected Lauren’s hand in his. She took a breath, deep and steadying, before heading up the road to the house. The silence continued to stretch between them, but Loki was finding it comfortable and felt no need to fill it. What words had needed saying, had been said.

She was much more confident in herself, his Lauren. Chin up and shoulders back, she looked like a woman self-assured and strong. The way he knew her to be every day since they’d met. Yes she could be shy, reserved at times, and easy to make blush, but when it came to her position as Tony’s assistant, and even among the others, she held her own with quick wit and sass, and quiet grace. Seeing her in the light of her family these past days had been… disturbing.

She’d had three years to come into her own before their introduction. Three years for Lauren to become her own person. To watch these… people knock her feet out from under her as they had made Loki viciously angry.

He was not known as a dark god for nothing and was entertaining dark thoughts when she spoke.

“You’re scowlin’ somethin’ fierce,” she said, capturing his attention.

“Thinking is all, darling.” He tilted his head in apology.

“About what?”

“Nothing important. Random thoughts.” Random thoughts about peeling her sisters’ fingernails back slowly.

Her brow arched, disbelief quite apparent in the action. “Mm-hm. And you expect me to believe that?”

He chuckled, unable to do anything else when she called him on his evasion. “Perhaps I was contemplating rather dark thoughts.”

She poked him just above the wide leather belt which wrapped around his waist. “Well cut it out. You’re all… broody and grumpy lookin’.”

“We can’t have that now, can we?” he grinned, raking his eyes over her form. “Have I told you yet how stunning you are in Asgardian dress?”

“Are you tryin’ to change the subject?”

“Yes, now say, thank you, Loki.”

“Thank you, Loki,” she mimicked with far more snap and sass than he’d used.

He continued to chuckle even as she scowled at him, Loki drew his fingers over the collar of her tunic. “You do look quite fetching. Had I seen you dressed so in the stable yard of Asgard, I would have been most interested in seeing if you would… ride with me.”

A blush coloured her cheeks. “I’m sure you would have been. Too bad I know better than to give in to a smooth-talkin' rake.”

“Rake!” he gasped, grasping her chin gently. “You wound my heart, darling.”

She was wholly unremorseful in her giggling, and curled her fingers over his belt, thumbs stroking the carved leather. “If the God of Mischief isn’t the quintessential tomcat, I don’t know who would be.”

“I’ll have you know I am not the womanizer in Asgard. That title belongs well and truly to Fandral. I may not be as pure as the Lady Sif, but I have certainly never been free with my affections.” He pouted a little, not really offended, but willing to play the part.

She wasn’t buying it. Lauren stepped away, continuing up the road. “This Fandral must be quite handsome,” she teased.

“So the women seem to think,” he grumbled, disliking her train of thought.

“Then the women of Asgard must be blind,” she said, so offhandedly it took him a moment to register her meaning.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her to a halt with a hand on her belly. “What exactly are you getting at, my love?”

“Only that I think you’re exceptionally handsome, so if they ignored your good looks for this Fandral, who can’t be that good lookin’ compared to you, then the women of Asgard must have a skewed idea of handsome. But maybe it’s a good thing no one looked your way. Then you wouldn’t be here with me.” She smiled sweetly over her shoulder, pretty colour tinting her cheeks.

“Elskan min, should you ever meet Fandral, do me the favour of saying so to his face.” The bright light of mischief in her eyes had him humming in appreciation when she smirked and nodded.

“I will. Even if I think he’s prettier than you!” she quipped, laughing as she tugged away.

“You horrible woman! What a terrible tease you are!” he barked, striding after her.

She gave a mocking bow as she backed away. “But I’m a fantastic flirt!” she countered, sticking out her tongue.

“Do that again, and I won’t be held responsible for the consequences,” he growled, watching her tongue sweep over her lips.

She must have been feeling bold for she straightened up, smile smug, and quipped, “What? This?” as she stuck her tongue out again.

He had her in his arms before she’d even gotten it tucked away. “Exactly,” he rumbled, sinking down to take her mouth in a devastating kiss, one which saw him sucking at her mouth, her tongue, her lips, until her knees weakened and she clung to him, apparently boneless.

He slid his hands down her back, tucked them beneath the hem of her tunic and gripped her bottom. Loki dragged her up against him, allowing her to see what her teasing had accomplished. Her whimper was captured by his lips, lips which sipped and sucked and devoured hers, making them plush, plump, and pink with his attention.

“Oh,” she sighed when he lifted his head.

“Indeed,” he chuckled. “Naughty girl, all that teasing. Whatever should I do with you?”

Her eyes were deep green, endless forests of desire. “You could always just keep me,” she smiled.

The words sent a thrill streaking his spine. He had every intention of doing just that. “I might do so.”

The scuff of a shoe in the gravel had both of them looking up the road to the top of the hill where the two children from last night stood hand in hand.

“Sugar cubes!” Lauren called out, her entire being lighting up with their arrival.

“Aunt Lu! We’ve been lookin’ for you,” the little girl scolded, a perfect frowning miniature of her aunt.

The boy, however, had a shaggy mop of dark hair which curled around his face and ears. His blue eyes held a wealth of grey, a miniature version of his father, but that was where the resemblance ended. His smile was far too big, eyes much too excited when he rocked up on his toes and pulled away from his sister to race down the road, nearly tripping over his feet when he stumbled to a stop at Loki’s.

“I know you!” he said, bouncing with excitement. “You’re Lucky!”

Lauren swiftly covered her mouth, muffling the snort and giggles she was not hiding well.

Loki sent her a hard look as he crouched down to be closer to the boy. “Some would say I was quite lucky, but my name, Benny, is Loki.”

A flush of red coloured his cheeks. “Oops,” the boy whispered.

Loki smiled, ruffling the boy's hair. “It is an honest mistake.”

“You know my name,” he whispered, awe filling his eyes.

“Your aunt speaks very highly of you,” he said, casting a swift glance at her, noting the way her eyes sparkled with happiness. “It is only right I should know your name.”

Benny’s smile returned, a beaming one which was nearly blinding. “I like the Avengers!”

“Hm, I saw your pajamas. You must really like Captain Rogers.”

“He’s neat! I like his shield,” the boy nodded vigorously before turning to send the same beaming smile up at Lauren. “Aunt Lu! You brought home an Avenger!”

She reached down and lifted the boy to her hip with a laugh. “That I did.”

“Just for me?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

She let out a peal of laughter, a sound Loki had not heard filled with such joy before now.

“Yeah, sugar cube, just for you!” She spun in a circle and made the boy squeal. “Loki is my very good friend.”

Sara, who had made her way down the lane in her shiny white shoes with slightly more decorum than her brother, dug a toe into the dirt. She stood before him, causing the ruffles edging the tops of her socks to flutter along with the ones on her frilly blue dress. “Are you Aunt Lu’s beau?” she asked, smile sweet and shy.

She was utterly charming with her eyes like oceans, causing Loki’s heart to suddenly jump and accelerate rapidly when she peered at him from behind long, gold-dusted lashes. “Would it please you, precious, if I was?”

She blushed in precisely the same way as her aunt when she nodded.

Already smitten, he smoothed his hand over her hair, a touch of magic seeing her frizzy braids set to rights. “Then I guess it must be so. I would hate to disappoint you.”

A giggle accompanied her much fuller smile when she glanced toward Lauren. “He’s so fancy!”

Shaking his head at having another one of her family call him fancy, Loki smiled at Lauren who still held the young boy to her. “Am I forgiven for spiriting you Aunt away?” he asked Sara, holding out his hand.

“Oh yes!” she said, taking it easily. “I’m ever so pleased to meet you, sir.”

“As I am you, Lady Sara,” he smiled.

“Aunt Lu!” Benny breathed out, awe in his voice as he cupped both of Lauren’s cheeks making her look at him. “He did magic!”

“Of course he did,” Lauren snickered, tickling Benny’s belly. “Loki is the very best when it comes to magic. Why I dare say, he’s even more powerful than Dr. Strange.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to brag,” Loki said, knowing she was only half teasing.

“What magic? Did I miss it?” Sara asked, a pout forming on her lips.

Right there his heart melted, fell with a splat at the feet of a seven-year-old darling, a little dove, a precious and sweet miniature of his Lauren. “Of course not. A gentleman would never allow a lady to miss out on a magic trick.” He rolled his wrist and produced a pretty white daisy he held out to her.

“Oh… my,” she whispered, her little hands pressing to her lips and eyes very wide.

“Take it, darling,” he encouraged, his smile soft.

She touched a single finger to one white petal. “It’s so pretty.”

“It’s a daisy,” Benny rolled his eyes.

“It was still made by magic Benjamin William, big dummy!” Sara snapped, planting her hands on her hips and sticking out her tongue.

“Sara!” Lauren huffed. “That ain’t no way to speak to your brother!”

“He started it,” she pouted.

“Well, that doesn’t mean you’ve got to finish it. He’s the only brother you have. There’ll be no name callin’ in this house. Now, say you’re sorry.”

Sara scowled darkly at her smugly grinning brother. “Sorry,” she muttered, but they all knew she didn’t honestly mean it.

Before Loki could say anything, Lauren turned her scolding on the boy in her arms.

“And you be nice. Loki made somethin’ special all for your sister. You should be happy for her.” She gave him the same hard look she’d sent Sara.

Thoroughly chastised, Benny tucked his chin down. “Sowry, Sara,” he whispered, chin quivering until Lauren kissed his forehead.

“Family is important. You need to be nice to each other, count on each other, and watch out for each other,” she murmured, tucking her face into the boy’s dark curls. “I may not always be able to be around, and you’ll… you’ll need each other.”

Loki tucked the daisy behind Sara’s ear and got to his feet. He took the boy from Lauren, set him on the ground, and gathered her close. “Nothing is set in stone, my heart,” he whispered against her ear. “Give it time.”

She nodded, breathing out a shaky breath, and turned away to wipe the moisture from her eyes before smiling for the children. “You know what? I’m parched. Why don’t we go see if Sue Ann has some of her world-famous lemonade in the fridge. And maybe, if you ask him real nice, Loki will be inclined to share some of the cake I made for him this mornin’? What y’all think? Can you do that?”

Both children turned to him, eyes of oceans and storm-swept skies looking up at him full of hope.

“Please, Mr. Loki, sir. Aunt Lu makes the absolute bestest cake,” Benny pleaded.

Sara nodded eagerly. “Why I’d be happy as a possum-”

“Eating a sweet potato,” he chuckled, giving Sara’s nose a tap. “I think that can be arranged.”

They both squealed in excitement before dancing around Lauren, tugging at her hands to get her moving, and making her laugh.

He had a heart-stopping moment of foresight. This, right here, was the life he could have at some point in the future. These children, Sara the image of Lauren, Benny whose hair was dark enough, curled enough, to pass as his own child, were the foreshadowing to what it would look like to have a family.

His family.

His.

Lauren shooed the children along, sending them up the lane when whatever emotion was showing on his face had her returning to his side with a frown. “Loki? Are you alright, hun?”

“I’m fine,” he said, but the words were strained, a little hoarse, and his hand shook slightly when he sank his fingers into her soft curls. Someday, someday he could be that which he’d never realized he wished to be. A father.

He placed a kiss on her forehead and held it for a moment, his thoughts racing and heart pounding.

Last night, seeing her with them had been heart-stopping, the desire strong, but today, watching her laugh and smile and love them even as she scolded, had turned desire into want, into a need so strong it caused his bones to ache.

And through it all… through it all, she’d reminded him of Frigga.

“One day you will make a most spectacular mother,” he whispered, letting his forehead rest against hers.

She blushed a rosy pink. “Well, I’m… I’m much obliged you’d think so.”

“I know so, sweet Lauren. One needs only see you with them to see how you cherish the children.” Tenderly, he touched her cheek, brushing his knuckles across it.

She looked up at him through her lashes, hers more smoky than gold, but again the resemblance between her and Sara was uncanny. “Thank you, Loki.”

He placed a soft, chaste kiss upon her lips, chuckling at her frown when he pulled away. “I would kiss you as I wished, but we have an audience.” He nearly laughed at the sparkle in Sara’s eyes and the disgust upon Benny’s face. The boy would learn, one day. “Shall we give them a thrill?” he asked, tugging on her tunic.

Lauren's sly smile replaced her shyness in an instant. “I think they would like that.”

He bent a second time, wrapped his magic around them, and kissed her like he really wanted to, all lips and tongue and heat while his magic hid them from view. When he’d stalled long enough, he lifted his head slowly and let his power recede.

High pitched oohs and a barrage of giggles erupted at the top of the lane, but he ignored them in favour of looking Lauren over. Thin straps held up the light and airy blue dress, a shade or two brighter than Sara’s. Tight across the bust, it flowed into loose lines which dropped straight to the ground. It fluttered gently in what little breeze there was, with a pattern of geometric lines beginning at her knees and running down to the hem in a creamy white, mimicking the pictures on the columns within the grand hall, the throne room of Asgard.

The dress left her arms and shoulders bare, her brúðr steinn shimmering in the sun, while her hair was caught at the back of her neck in a cascade of heavy curls held there by an intricately woven golden clip.

“Have I told you I quite adore your hair?” he murmured, carding his fingers through it and watching the curls bounce back.

“I can’t say that you have, good sir,” she teased, tracing her fingers over his chest. “But then I quite like yours, so I guess we’re even.”

“I guess so. When next we are alone, you will have to tell me what else you admire.”

“There you go again, wantin’ me to stroke that ego of yours.”

She made to walk away when the children called for her to hurry up, but Loki caught her arm as she passed and leaned close to her ear. “It is not my ego I wish your hands were stroking, elskan min.”

Her eyes snapped to his, darkened swiftly into emeralds. “Perhaps later I can pet… other things.”

“Oh, darling. I certainly hope so,” he crooned, releasing her arm.

She walked a few steps away before smirking at him over her shoulder. “Like your hair, maybe?”

“Minx!” he huffed, even as she giggled.

***

High in the gleaming silver tower in the middle of New York, Tony, Natasha, and Steve were waiting for the images to come back while Sam frowned off to the side.

“You all worry too much. If Lauren can keep Tony on schedule, she can handle Loki,” Sam said, crossing his arms, showing his disagreement in what the three of them were up to.

“We’re simply checking in, gathering a little intel. After what Barnes told Cap, we’re obligated to make sure she’s alright,” Tony said, tapping a few more buttons.

“I don’t trust him,” Nat grumbled, glaring at the screens. “What if he’s tricked her into all this?”

“Bucky says Loki has feelings for her,” Steve said, glancing at Sam. By the look on his face, it was clear to all those gathered he wasn’t feeling the best about this either.

“See! You’ve even got Cap, the moral compass, second-guessing what you’re all up to,” Sam quipped.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Captain Goody-goody can suck it up.”

“Natasha!” Steve barked.

“Oh please! Like you’re not the least bit curious to know what’s going on down there.” Tony snapped, waving at them all to be quiet. “Here we go.”

The helicopter, which remained on the lawn of Lauren’s former home, was equipped with micro cameras which Tony had activated, after Cap’s revelation earlier that morning of Lauren and Loki’s subsequent engagement, to seek out the Asgardian and surreptitiously take pictures.

As they watched the images unfold, Sam finally giving in and moving closer, the four of them stood with mouths agape.

Beneath the limbs of a stately tree, the tiny drone had found a bikini-clad Lauren stretched out in the dappled sunlight, lounging among decadent silks and pillows under the canvas and gauze tent. Her head was on Loki’s thigh, hands covering her middle, while Loki, who also seemed to be swimsuit-clad, appeared to be reading to her as he played with her hair.

“What…”

“The…

“Hell…?”

Sam snickered with the other three’s reaction. “Told you she could handle him.”

The pictures continued to click through, showing them laughing, kissing, returning to swim and, to everyone’s shock, play in the water. It was an incredibly intimate moment between two people who were very comfortable with each other and set Steve clearing his throat, uncomfortable with their spying.

“Shut it down.”

The four voyeurs flinched guiltily at the anger in Bucky’s tone.

The hardness of his face had Steve cringing. Even the cat perched upon Bucky’s shoulder, tail lashing, appeared to be passing judgement on them all. “We… were curious.”

“So you spy on what’s clearly a private moment?” Bucky snapped.

“We didn’t know-”

The look Bucky sent Natasha was enough to have her close her mouth without finishing her excuse. “I don’t give a flying fuck, Natalia. I know damn well Lauren told you to butt out. Maybe you should listen.”

Tony, however, continued to ignore Bucky, swiping his way through the pictures until one, in particular, had him gaping in shock. “Well, will you look at that?”

All five of them looked, even though Bucky’s scowl deepened until he caught sight of the image captured in brilliant colour.

The couple had returned to the house and were interacting with two small children, Loki crouched and smiling, offering the little girl a flower.

“That’s Sara and Benny,” Bucky murmured, striding forward. “Lauren’s niece and nephew.” But it was the pain on Lauren’s face, the devastation she was feeling which made Bucky frown. “Keep going,” he muttered to Stark.

“Thought you wanted us to stop invading their privacy?”

“Shut up and swipe,” Bucky growled.

They watched in silence as Loki took Benny from her, placed the boy down, and drew her in, holding her with care, a tenderness which left them all awed. This was not the sharp-tongued, standoffish, guarded man they knew.

He smiled, and he touched. He watched her with eyes full of longing, and a sudden stark desire had sprung to life on Loki’s face when, after she’d regained her composure and teased the children into some sort of excitement, she returned to Loki’s side.

Magic swirled up, was caught on film, something which surprised them all for Loki was exceptionally skilled and very fast when it came to his tricks, but this one lasted for frames, the mist of green filling the drone’s lenses until it finally gave way, revealing them both in much more normal clothing.

Lauren’s dress was beautiful, and Loki appeared as well-groomed as always; as if he’d stepped from the pages of GQ.

“Will you look at that necklace?” Sam whistled his admiration.

“Wonder if he made that for her?” Steve questioned.

Natasha glowered at the screen. “So he makes her things and gives her pretty clothes. He’s a criminal.”

“Shut up, Natasha,” Bucky sighed, scratching Felix’s chin when the cat purred and rubbed against his face. “If you’re so blind you can’t see he’s head over heels for her, you may want to re-evaluate your title as spy.”

“And we’ve all been labelled a criminal at one point or another,” Steve murmured, backing Bucky.

“None of us slaughtered thousands of people!”

“No, but I killed hundreds.” Turning away from Tony, the death of the Starks still a raw spot, Bucky made to leave the room. “He may not be the poster child for atonement, but Loki is trying. The fact he does anything asked of him, no matter how dangerous, speaks volumes to how deeply he regrets what he was part of.”

“You can’t compare yourself to him! You didn’t know what you were doing, Bucky!” Natasha snapped, having had this conversation dozens of times before.

Bucky nodded. “No, I didn’t, but it was still my hands at the end of the gun. I do what I can to atone for my sins every damn day.” He walked out without a further word.

Steve glanced back at the screen, frozen on the image of Loki and Lauren, his hand in her hair, eyes full of soft affection with Lauren’s hands on his chest, her smile brilliant. In the image, he could see the gleaming engagement ring on her left hand.

Tony leaned against the console and sighed. “Now I wish we had video. I’d love to know what that was about.” He nodded toward the other screen with a saddened Lauren nuzzling into the hair of her nephew.

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve murmured, smiling gently at the image of the two of them smiling at each other. “They’re happy. She’s happy, and he’s clearly behaving himself. If he’s working magic for nothing more than that,” he waved at Lauren’s clothes, “then what’s the harm.”

“I still don’t like it,” Nat muttered, striding out the door before anyone could stop her.

Tony narrowed his eyes at Steve. “What do you know you’re not telling anyone?”

Eyes widening, Steve held up his hands. “Nothing!”

“C’mon, Steve! Spill the deets,” Sam smirked.

He shook his head. “Look, it’s between Lauren and her family.”

“What? The fact she got left at the altar, and her mother is a hag?” Tony snorted.

“I’m not going to give up Lauren’s- Wait? You know about that?”

Tony only rolled his eyes. “I employed her. Of course, I know how she ended up in New York. And as for her bitch mother, one doesn’t come back from taking a phone call with red-rimmed eyes because someone has spoken sweetly to them.”

Sam looked between the two of them, clearly shocked. “Someone left that sweet woman on her wedding day?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, cat now out of the bag. “He ran off with his mistress. Her mother was trying to force Lauren to get back with her ex. That’s really why Loki went with her.”

“Shit!” Sam hissed, scrubbing a hand over his mouth.

“Her mother is a harpy, but then her eldest sister is no prize either,” Tony grumbled, taking his blue tinted glasses from his face and rubbing his eyes.

“What do you know?” Steve asked, now as curious as Sam, along with a little concerned.

“Marabeth Avirett. Lawyer, one known to be vicious, cruel, and without mercy in court. She’s been sighted on more than one occasion for being… aggressive with witnesses.”

“A bully,” Sam growled.

“A bitch,” Tony scoffed. “I know people who’ve had to deal with her outside the courtroom. She has a reputation of being difficult, while her husband is an uptight, close fisted, loudmouth looking to run for governor.”

“Jeez,” Steve hissed, resting back against the wall with a sigh.

“Quite honestly, Cap, I thought you’d lost your mind sending Loki with her, but…” Tony glanced at the monitor, “I’m not sure any of the rest of us could do what he can in this situation.”

“And what’s that?” Sam and Steve said at the same time.

“Make her smile, keep her happy, and protect her from the sharp barbs they’ll sling at her,” Tony said before turning his eyes to the two men, “and make them pay if they hurt her.”

Silence settled over the three of them as they all studied the image before them.

Finally, Steve smiled. “Guess if you’ve got to deal with deceit, deception, and discord, there ain’t no one better for wading through the mess than the God of Mischief.”

“Nah,” Sam chuckled. “And there isn't no one better for creating chaos for those who deserve it.”

“Her mother definitely deserves it,” Tony snickered.

Next Chapter

#balance #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfiction #Avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction #god of mischief #southern belle #testy

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rem102 · 7 years

Text

The Mission to Space

Prologue Ch.1

Summary: An innocent night at an RFA party turns into a one night stand, and taking down a terrorist organization.

Tags: 707x MC, Saeyoung x MC

Rating: Mature (adult themes and language)

Authors Note: FINALLY please let me know what you think ! Firefly Music Festival Playlist on Spotify is the best inspiration ever.

I looked at myself in the full length mirror. I looked like an entirely different person. My hair was curled and its length touched my mid back. Pulled back into an elegant style. The dress I wore was a nude color with jeweled sequins running in a random pattern. It looked as if they were dragon fly wings in the pattern going down its length. The sheer fabric covered my shoulders and dipped to my torso. Golden leaves climbed the waist line covering my breasts. The waist had a sequined thick embellishment wrapping tightly around me.

I looked beautiful, and for the first time in my life I actually felt beautiful. I should have let Amelia take me out more. I put on the silver masquerade mask. The crystal gems outlined the eye piece and fanning off to the side. Leaving little holes between where each crystal did not touch. I tied it under my long hair with a silky black ribbon to complete the look.

“Hi I’m looking for a hacker 707 any ideas?” I said talking to myself in the mirror and I laughed.

This was going to be hopeless. I walked out of my room and saw Amelia pouring shots for us.

“Wow! You clean up so well!” She said mouth hanging wide.

“The car is waiting out front, but first we drink.” Amelia shoved the shot near to me and she put away her liquor in the cabinet.

I grabbed the shot of god knows what. It smelled like candy. “To finally going out!”

I nodded and quickly threw another drink back. I reached down to smooth my dress and ensuring my gun was secured tightly to my leg. “You ready to go?”

“I’m always ready.” She said pulling me by my hand. I believed her.

_________________________________________________________

“Its really crowded,” I told her as our car slowly made its way to the entrance. We waited for over an hour for the car to slowly inch its way forward to drop its passengers off. Amelia took her phone out and searched ‘RFA’ in the search engine. She clicked on the images and blew them up to look at them. She instantly smiled, “This was a picture from their last party.”

“It looks packed,” I told her as she flipped through crowded party after party.

“They haven’t had a party in over a year. I think the business guy is holding it this time.” She put her phone away looking out the window.

“Why am I nervous?” I looked at my hands.

“Because you are an introvert who never gets out.” She teased and I looked out the window.

“Its not my fault that he..”

“I know, and I get it. The guy was a complete asshole to you and you are afraid to get hurt again. On top of that you buried yourself in work and haven’t given yourself a chance to heal.” The car came to an abrupt stop once again. Our driver got out of the car and walked over to our side of the door.

“Lets just have some fun tonight,” She said with a bright smile. The car door opened and a frenzy of flashing light and snapping of cameras bombarded my eyes. The blinding frenzy of people taking endless photographs of a star or a famous actor arriving. I could not remember a time where I enjoyed myself and talking to people that I had never met before. Tonight everyone was unknown. Wearing masks to conceal their identity from one another. I could be whoever I wanted to be tonight.

I know that I had to find the hackers tonight. But I also could enjoy myself getting to talk to new people right? This only would go well if I try to look like I am having a good time that is.

We followed the crowd of people into the party room that was packed with masked people. Amelia grabbed two glasses of champagne that were on a tray walking by us quickly. “To a good night.” She said and I quickly drank my entire glass.

We were making small take with a group of people across the room. No one seemed to have any clue about computers. I ran out of something to drink my head feeling the effects of drinking a little too much. By the time I got to the beverages I turned around and Amelia was no longer in the same place that she was when I left her. The lighting was too dark and strobe lighting moving to quickly to orient myself to the changing room in the moving crowd of people.

I took a deep breath trying to get a hold of my senses. I should not be drinking right now. I should be more concerned about finding these hackers.

I stood alone for some time just watching the crowd and wishing that I had more time. The music got louder and louder as the night turned into more vibrant place. I was lost in my thoughts concerned about completing this mission.

“Would you like to dance?” A deep voice asked me, and turned around to see who had asked me to dance.

_____________________________________________

“It looks like another successful party.” Jumin said sipping from his wine glass. “It seems you were right in projecting better turnout when there is loud music and open bar Seven.” Jumin told me and I dismissed what he said looking around for my brother.

I took another sip of my drink. “Seven how many have you had already?” Yoosung asked me quietly next to me. “Enough,”

“Don’t you think you should be careful you never drink this much.”

“I’m fine.” I told Yoosung scanning the room for Saeran. Zen seemed to notice what I was doing. “Saeran is fine Seven you need to give him space.” They were making me mad the more they spoke as if they understand what is happening. They don’t know anything. I threw back the rest of my drink. I was scanning the room when I stopped immediately. My eye caught sight of the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I tried to participate in the conversation that Yoosung and Zen were having about videogames and having a career. I was too distracted by her every move. Is it possible to become bewitched? Was the alcohol running directly into my head?

“Seven would you like to share with the group why you are so distracted so sudden- Ah I see it’s that woman over there.” Zen said looking at her. His eyes perked up in the direction I was looking. “Well don’t all start looking at her,” I said grabbing giving my empty drink to Yoosung.

“Hey!” He said upset at the action. “She’s way out of your league Seven.” Zen said folding his arms across his chest. “She caught your eye it seems. Maybe all the alcohol in your system has brought your attention to girls instead of thinking about your computer.” He said throwing an arm around my shoulder.

“The last time Seven was interested in a girl was the one at the grocery store. He didn’t need anything from the store but he went in just to have a chance to talk to the girl. Except he never asked her out, and then the girl stopped going to the store. It was quite sad actually.” Yoosung said and I glared at him for telling that awful story.

“Yoosung, chocolate milk. All I need to say.” Yoosung looked so sad. “So mean I felt sick for a week.” Yoosung grabbed his stomach.

“Would you like to watch and learn how it’s done? I‘m more than willing to show you a few pointers Seven.” Zen said with a smirk on his face and he nudged me playfully.

“Shut up Zen. I’m more than capable of asking a girl to dance.” I scoffed at him annoyed that the one woman I am interested in he immediately has to try to make moves on.

Damn it. When was the last time I allowed myself to get this drunk? Maybe I should not have listened to what Saeran said earlier about being a horrible brother. How I don’t take care of myself, which is true. But Saeran went off on how I don’t live in the real world and living in the virtual one. The wall I had built around my life and not letting anyone, not even my own brother. Maybe I was controlling on when Saeran was allowed to leave the house. I was only being cautious after he tried to kill himself after I rescued him from Mint Eye.

I let his words burn into my soul. One drink leading to another, and then another, and then the next. My head spinning, heart racing, and my emotions on the edge.

I could ask that girl to dance with me if I wanted to. Shit. Who was I kidding here? I am not the handsome actor who is ready to rescue the princess. I am not the rich guy who could buy endless amount of women at my side. I am also not the college student surrounded by college girls. I was me and I had Saeran. I told myself that’s all I needed to feel whole. I had my cars, my computer, and my brother that’s all I really need right?

I sighed stealing another glance at her. Her fingers making a typing motion around the glass. Who was she? I was certain that I ran background checks on everyone here. Her face was one that I would have remembered, maybe I was mistaken. She is wearing a mask after all.

I could not spend the rest of the night with Zen and Yoosung poking fun at me for not having the guts to ask the girl to dance. She was beautiful. I wasn’t going to sit back and let Yoosung jump at the opportunity or allow her to be swept away by Zen’s charms. I had to act. Yoosung took a few steps in her direction. I grabbed his shirt tightly and pulled him back.

Defender of Justice Mode Activated.

“Watch and learn.” I said and walked in the direction the woman was standing. Tonight 707 will dare to do the impossible.

_____________________________________________________

“Would you like to dance?” He asked again holding a hand out to me. My face flushed red in embarrassment. “Sure,” I told him reaching out for his hand. What the hell was I thinking? I must be drunk, because a logical person would be freaking out in a corner of terrorists coming to get me any day now.

“I’m a terrible dancer,” I told him looking into his ember eyes. He had the most beautiful vibrant red hair, and striped glasses. “I am too we can both be horrible together.” I smiled at his comment.

“What is your name?” He asked me looking for my other hand. I gave it to him and he spun me around in his arms. I should give him my assigned name. “Elizabeth Stark,” I let go of his hands and curtsied. I looked back at him and he bowed grabbing my hand pressing a kiss to my hand. My stomach filled with butterflies. “Now is that Stark for Marvel or from Game of Thrones?”

“Both,” I said and he took my hands back in his. “And what is your name?”

“I think you just won me over just confessing that you are not only beautiful but smart woman.” He pulled me immediately close to his chest surprising me. His hand around my back tightly. “You can call me Seven,” I pushed myself away from his chest with a laugh. “As in the Number?” He nodded and the song ended. I walked with him to get another drink.

“So Star Wars-“

“Where have you been all my life?” He teased and the bartender got to us rather quickly.

“I could say the same!”

“What would you like?” Water, but I was enjoying this conversation to refuse. “I’ll drink anything.” Seven kindly took care of it for me in the large crowd of people.

“Thank you,”

“You got it,” he said wandering away from the bar.

“Are those your friends gawking at us over there?” I laughed looking in the direction of the blonde haired boy whose jaw was lost on the floor. “That would be them. Would you like to meet them?”

“Umm sure-“ Seven grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him.

“Don’t worry the Defender of Justice will protect you.”

“Defender of Justice?”

He paused squeezing my hand tightly in his own. “Seven,” I said to him looking into his ember eyes.

“Seven, I have to say I am impressed.” A familiar voice said and I looked and it was none other than Zen. The famous musical actor that Amelia obsesses over. The man whose face is plastered over her walls and every poster and merchandise available.

“No way, you are friends with Zen? The musical actor?” I said to Seven not trying to seem rude.

“That would be him.” Seven said laughing to himself. “I helped start his career.”

“My roommate is in love with him. She would die if she knew that I got to meet him.” And Zen smiled. “Ah so you watch my movies and shows you might recognize me from a few of my performances?”

“Only because my roommate forces me too.” Yoosung and Seven covered his mouth laughing. “You do have an amazing singing voice, I do go see your musicals thought.” I said and Zen immediately perked up. “Unfortunately, Seven here insisted on asking you to dance first before I could make you mine however, I’ll have to give him the victory it seems.”

The young blonde came directly up to me and offering his hand for me to shake it. I awkwardly took it and shook his hand.

“I’m Yoosung and I’m a college student.” He seemed so bashful and quiet.

“And what are you studying?” I asked Seven brushed his hand against mine sending my stomach filled with butterflies at his playful touches against my burning skin. “LOLOL,” Seven coughed. “I’m a universal studies at the moment.”

“Ah that’s totally fine as long as you go to class right?” He smiled and nodded. “Occasionally when I actually wake up in time.” I said rubbing the back of his head bashfully.

“I did computer-“I immediately stopped. Maybe the terrorists just need to liquor me up before getting me to spill every secret I have ever had. I need to play it cool. “Computer science, perfect for gamers like you.” I finished and taking a quick sip from my glass.

“Our other friends are around here somewhere I can’t seem to find them. If you are interest in meeting them.” Seven said looking around the room. “Eh a moment without the Trust Fund kid is a peaceful moment, don’t spoil the night.” His white suite standing out in the sea of black tuxes and suite jackets.

“Oh that’s ok, we were going to go dance again.” Seven looked at me surprised at my boldness. I took the initiative to walk to the largest group dancing to the loud and pulsing music.

_________________________________________________

I pulled her close to me her eyes piercing into mine each time I looked at her. Her blush creeping on her cheeks. It’s not every day you find a girl who is into the similar things as you are. She was bolder than she was earlier moving closer to my body. It was hard to not go overboard while dancing and letting her indicate what she wanted. After all I’m not a complete monster. She grabbed my arm and allowed me to hold onto her waist. I pulled her parallel to my chest. Her hands clutching my shirt.

She played along with my antics, and knows a good bit about computers. This wasn’t a dream right? Was love at first sight a real phenomenon? This isn’t some desperate attempt at some cheesy romantic novel is it?

Is this what I have been desperately missing out on? If so then I will let the RFA take me out more often.

The pace of the music changed drastically into a more sensual and fast paced dance.

She sent a chill up my spine at how close she was to me. Her hair smelled like coconut oil and a flowery scent. Her hands pulling at my shirt as my own hands held her tightly at the waist. The music came to an end and people were beginning to regain their senses. My lips inches away from my own. I leaned down to gently kiss her waiting lips. She felt like she was on fire, but soft and welcoming lips touching my own. I pulled away looking down at her blushing cheeks and her heavy breathing. If I wanted this to continue I was going to have to go to drastic measures.

“Come with me,” I told her whispering into her ear her grip tightening against my shirt and pressed herself harder into my own body. She nodded taking my hand in her own as I pulled her out into the hallway. “Seven,” She called out to me resting on a large stone pillar.

“If we hurry we can beat the rush out of here.” I told her giving herself a minute to fix her shoes. “Seven,” she called again and I looked at her. She walked straight up to me and kissed me fiercely sending my mind onto Cloud 9. I wanted to take this girl home with me. I wanted to know why the girl hiding behind the mask was the most beautiful and my type was doing here at an RFA party. She pulled herself away walking towards the valet parking area. I grabbed her arm quickly and pinned her behind the wall where she had me moments ago.

“You caught me off guard it seems.” I ran my face up her neck her breathing deepened at my touch. “Now I have you.” I pressed a firm kiss on her neck where her ear met her face and she let out a small yelp in surprise. I smiled against her neck at her reaction to my touch.

“Will you come back to my place?” I asked her meeting her at her eye level. “Yes” she said in a throaty gasping voice. I did not want this night to end just yet.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #707 #jumin han #zen #hyun ryu #jaehee kang #yoosung kim #V

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