#i did give him the local tow guys number

[spookydingus]

so this oil company rep has been coming around for years and trying to get us to shuffle off so they can plop a drill down on our land right

mf came back about half an hour ago to interrupt our pizza and mst3k festivities

only he drove up to the rural foothills in a fucking pontiac firebird that is now VERY buried in wet clay

you better believe I stood around holding a lantern and ribbing him about it for ten minutes and not helping whatsoever

[mxtantrights]

aisle 4 (Steve rogers x poc!reader)

when you two first meet he thinks you are breathtaking and normal. Which is two words he wouldn't say out loud at first in fear of freaking you out or insulting you. He liked normal. Normal was good.

he sees you somewhere local. The grocery store that's three miles away from his place where he goes to escape from his ruminating mind.

aisle 4 which is pasta, sauces, beans, and ethnic seasonings.

When you see him you are a bit startled. Startled at two things.

One, its Steve Rogers. You've seen him on the news and on tv. He's THE guy. You didn't know THE guy did his own grocery shopping. You thought Tony Stark would totally just print out their groceries.

Two, it's Steve rogers in the ethnic section. He's just staring off into space. In front of him happens to be the very seasonings you need for your diner tonight.

You clear your throat to get his attention.

He looks at you and his eyes go wide.

"I didn't know spices could be that bewildering for some people." you causally joke.

he laughs at that, "sorry it’s not the spices. It’s just the day I had.”

you don't know how to respond to that. It's STEVE ROGERS so you just nod politely and point to the shelf as a way to ask him to give you space to get what you need.

He side steps and watches as you take a couple of packages and drop them into your cart. You reach for one more.

"I haven't seen you before." he says

"No you haven't." you answer.

You look at him with a big smile plastered on your face, bottle of spice in tow. He is gobsmacked.

"Sorry, this is probably weird. I should-" he points behind him and starts moving in that direction. Away from you.

"You haven't seen me before but I have seen you before. Which is weird already so I had to level the playing field." you casually shrug.

he laughs heartily. Like puts his hand on his chest and closes his eyes, the works. If you didn't know any better you would say that Steve rogers was really receptive to your humor.

"can I see you outside of this grocery store?" he asks.

"You can watch me walk out, sure." you joke back.

He smiles, "Right."

"Or you can watch me walk out with your number. Your choice." you offer.

At the speed of light Steve is patting down his pants looking for pen and paper like an idiot. but then he pats his phone and fishes it out. He unlocks it and offers it over.

You take it from him and input your number. Then you hand it back to him. Your fingers brush for the slightest moments and that makes you nervous.

It hits you then that this isn't some hallucination or dream. It's real. He's real. And he has your number in his phone.

He raises his phone up to you, "I'll text you sometime this week."

"Or I can just find you in the spice aisle sometime." you answer.

[insomniamamma]

Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

         "You did this on purpose."         "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--"         "You don't have a right hand,"         "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations."         "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm.         "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins.         "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception.         "You sure?" Asks Ezra.         "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade."         "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--"         "No."         "No?"         "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

        Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring.         "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

        Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do.         Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

        He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled.         "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

        Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab?  He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him.         "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you.         "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

        You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid.         Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest.         "Hi Ez,"         "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder.         "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer.         "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes.         "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?"         "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?"         "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-"         "The wrapping was mutual-"         "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head.         "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch.         "Tickles."         "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him.         “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

        "She's late," says Ezra.         "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board,"         "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair.         "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you.         "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair."         "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee.         "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her.         "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully.         "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though."         "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile.         “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big.         "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something."         "I look forward to it," says Ezra.         "Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug.         "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit.         "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee.         "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs.         "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit.         "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee.         "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra.         "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?"         "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about."         "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

[the-maidofgevaudan]

OBX: THE COLLEGE YEARS

Phantom

Authors Note: The first story in my College OBX idea. JJ Maybank x OC. GIF not mine (creds to owner). Sloane arrives at OBX, meets the pogues, attends her first boneyard kegger, and we get a peek into JJ’s night life.

Warnings: Cussing? Sexual Innuendos?

Words: 3.6 K

"No, no, no, no, no. No!" Sloane pleaded with her car as she began to see smoke coming out of the hood. She had been driving for hours and had just passed the "Paradise on Earth" sign letting her know she had made it to the Outer Banks. She pulled over and popped the hood releasing even more smoke into the air. She groaned and pulled out her phone to google for local auto shops. The closest one was called Kildare Tires & Auto Repair Shop. She pressed the phone icon next to the name and her phone began calling the shop.

"Kildare Tires & Auto, this is Hank." A voice on the other end spoke.

"Hi, I was driving to town and my car started smoking really bad." Sloane started. "I am not really sure where I'm at, but I passed a sign a little while back that said "Paradise on Earth."

"No problem darlin'. We'll send someone out to get you." Hank said.

"Okay, who will you be sending? I just don't want to get kidnapped." Sloane explained and then felt ridiculous for asking.

"JJ Maybank will be the one to come get you. Shouldn't take him longer than 15 to get to ya." Hank said and abruptly hung up.

“Maybank!" JJ heard Hank yell into the garage.

"Present." JJ said sliding out from under the hood of a truck.

"Catch." Hank said as he threw a set of keys at JJ. They landed square on his stomach before he realized it, causing him to let out a grunt.

"What are these for?" He questioned.

"We got a call about a girl stuck on the side of the road. You're the low guy on the totem pole, so you're picking her up and bringing her car in." Hank explained as he walked back into the office with his back to JJ leaving no room for argument.

Truth be told, JJ didn't mind being sent out to get the cars. He enjoyed a break from being in the garage where he received endless orders from the other guys. He also didn't mind when the people he picked up were pretty girls. He quickly made his way across the island and found where the girl Hank was talking about had broken down. He could see smoke rolling out from the hood.

JJ got the truck positioned in front of her car with ease and stepped out to talk to her. "You weren't trying to hot box it, were you?" He asked the girl with a smirk.

She looked confused at first and then responded, "Oh no, I don't smoke." Not once did she crack a smile at his joke either. "What's your name?"

"JJ."

"Well thank you, JJ. They said you would be coming to get me. I just wanted to make sure you were the right person and not a serial killer or something." She said and then motioned to the car for him to get started.

"No problem. Well, it'll only take me a second to get it all hooked up and I can give you a ride to the shop. If you have anyone you can call to pick you up, you might wanna do that." He said starting to get the car hooked up to the tow truck.

"Are you able to give me a ride? I'm actually new here. I just got into UNC and I have a roommate, but I don't actually have her number, just her email." The girl rambled out.

"I've been known to give pretty girls a ride or two." JJ said with a cheeky grin. The sexual innuendo must have sailed right over this girls head though because yet again, no smile. "Where are you moving to?" JJ said, moving the conversation forward.

The girl showed him the address on her phone and asked, "Do you know where that is?"

And oh boy did he. He chuckled a little reading it, so she was going to be Kiara's new roommate. "Yeah, as a matter of fact I do know where that is."

They quickly rode back to the shop and got things settled there and then JJ was driving her to Kiara's. During the ride the girl didn't try to make any conversation. She spent most of the time looking out the window or at her phone. JJ settled into the silence; he had accepted defeat for now. With the girl moving in with Kiara he would have plenty of chances to try and crack the hard-ass facade she had going. The fact that she didn't crack a smile or blush at any of his jokes only made him want to try harder; he hadn't had a good challenge in a long time.

He took this opportunity to get a good look at her. She was pretty- there was no denying it. She had the hair of a porn star and the face of a goddess.

As JJ pulled into the driveway to the small house Kiara started down the porch. JJ hopped out and yelled, "delivery," in a shrill high pitched voice.

Kiara looked confused and then noticed the girl step out. "You must be Sloane," Kiara said.

The girl nodded and said, "It's nice to meet you. Kiara right?"

Kie nodded, "Yeah. You can head in if you want. I'm gonna have a quick chat with JJ." The girl, Sloane, grabbed a few of her bags and started at the house and then turned to JJ and said "Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime." JJ said as she continued into the house, his eyes following her figure until it was covered by the front door.

Kiara gave the boy a smack to the back of his head and he yelped. "What the hell was that for?"

"You know what that was for. How the hell did you end up with my roommate already?" She fussed at him, clearly frustrated. "Her car broke down. They sent me to get her."

"Please tell me you didn't flirt with her."

JJ's cheeky grin was the only answer Kiara needed. She went to swat his head again, but he dodged it this time. "Don't worry about it. She wasn't fazed by my charms."

Kiara gives him a questioning look like he's lying. "You're lying."

JJ shakes his head, "I wish I was Kie. I used the same lines twice last week and got laid both times. I don't know what this girls problem is."

Kie lets out a laugh. "Well, leave her alone. I need a roommate."

"No promises."

_____________________________________________________________

Sloane wanders through the small house until she finds the mostly empty bedroom that she assumes is hers’. It’s nothing to write home about, but it will suffice. One of the perks of choosing to live with Kiara was that the room came furnished. There is an old bedroom suite in the room consisting of a bed frame, mattress, and a dresser. Sloane takes note of the room and makes a mental note of a few things she will need to buy: a desk, a chair, and maybe a small vanity. She begins unpacking the few bags she managed to carry inside.

As she unpacks she can’t help, but to think about JJ. She has never met someone so forward. Sloane can’t imagine that any of the lines he uses ever work on any girls. He was attractive though and he definitely has the mischievous smirk down to a science. If he does get laid often, Sloane decides it's due to his good looks. She instantly wonders if he and Kiara have ever slept together.

As she’s trying to reason through that scenario, Kiara knocks on the door bringing Sloane out of her thoughts.

“I see you found your room.” She says from the doorway. “I know it’s not much and if you want to get rid of the furniture you totally can.”

“No, thank you though. I didn’t bring any and I don’t really have the funds to furnish the room.”

“No problem. I had JJ bring in your other bags and boxes. They’re by the front door. I would stay and help, but I have to run out to work a little while or my boss will kill me. There’s a party tonight though on the beach. My friends and I are going and you should come.”

“I don’t know. I have a lot of unpacking to do and…” Sloane begins, but is quickly cut off by Kiara. “I have other friends besides JJ and they’re really nice. One of them is a girl named Sarah- she’s also going to UNC. You should come to meet her- it would give you someone to know when you’re on campus.” Kie reasons.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll come.” Sloane gives in.

“Great. I will see you there! I’ll have one of my friends come by and pick you up.” Kiara says quickly as she dashes off. Sloane groans and goes back to unpacking.

_____________________________________________________________

“Welcome to the Outer Banks.” John B says as he drives to the beach.

“Thanks.” Sloane says. “Nice ride by the way.”

“Thanks, I’ve had it since high school. We call it the twinkie.” He says referring to the van they are riding in. It reeks of weed which John B promptly blamed on JJ and Kiara, but Sloane thought it was adorable and unique. “So we are headed to this spot on the beach called ‘The Boneyard.’ We’ve been drinking there since high school. There’s pros and cons to being a Pogue; downside of Pogue life is we’re ignored and neglected. Upside is we are ignored and neglected, which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want.” John B says with a smile.

“What’s a Pogue?” Sloane asks, not entirely understanding what he’s meaning.

“Ah. Pogues, pogies, they’re the throwaway fish. Lowest member of the food chain.” He says and looks at Sloane to see if his explanation has helped. Noticing her still furrowed eyebrow he continues, “So The Outer Banks, it's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. The pogues, us, or the working class live on this side- The Cut. The other side of the island is called Figure Eight- that's where the kooks live. Rich assholes with two houses.”

As he finishes and looks over at Sloane she begins to chuckle. When John B doesn’t smile or laugh himself, she stops. “Oh you're serious. I thought you were messing with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious.”

“I just didn’t imagine I'd moved somewhere with a very real turf or class war or whatever it is that's going on here.” She explains incredulously. “So you, JJ, and Kiara are all… pogues?”

“Yeah, sorta. Kie grew up on Figure Eight. Her parents are kooks and have a ton of money, so when we started hanging out Kie was a kook financially. Personality wise though she was a pogue. Her parents own a restaurant called The Wreck, she still works there- surprisingly.”

“Why is that a surprise?”

“Kiara’s parents didn’t appreciate her hanging out with pogues,”

“Aka you and JJ.” Sloane interjects.

“Exactly.” John B says with a smile which Sloane returns. “Anyways, she had a lot of fights with her parents throughout high school, so the moment she turned 18 she moved into the house down the road from the Chateau.”

“The Chateau?” Sloane questions.

“It’s the house me and JJ live in. My dad called it that and it kind of stuck.” John B says with a sentimental look. “Kie’s parents were pretty devastated when she moved out, but begged her to stay at The Wreck for work. I think the only reason she agreed to keep working there is because she knew she couldn’t leave and find a job that would pay as much as her parents were paying her.”

John B brings the twinkie to a stop and parks in front of a beach. Sloane looks out the window to see the beach covered with people. They all seem to have red solo cups in hand. John B gets out and starts walking down the beach with Sloane following. “So Kiara and JJ?” Sloane questions.

John B lets out a chuckle, “They’re just friends. Have always been just friends. They are kindred spirits, but it will never pass friendship. We kind of have a rule about that anyways. No pogue on pogue macking.”

“That’s kind of a dumb rule. Plus why would you guys make a rule like that when Kiara is so pretty?”

“Oh yeah, well Kie made the rule. She came up with it pretty soon after we all started hanging out. I think she wanted to ensure we would all stay friends. Although, it didn’t stop JJ from trying for a while- he eventually gave up though.”

“Yeah that doesn’t surprise me about JJ,” says Sloane. John B raises his eyebrows and gives the girl a look. “He flirted with me mercilessly earlier when we met. Does that usually work for him?”

John B lets out the biggest laugh, “Yeah somehow it does. Trust me, I don't get it either.”

John B offers to go grab the two of them drinks and look around for the other pogues. Sloane gives him a nod and decides to wait here for him to come back. She decides she does trust John B. She likes how open he is and she feels like she’s known him her whole life when talking to him. He’s one of the most beautiful creatures she’s ever met and it's not just about his face, but the life force she can see in him. His smile is pure and genuine.

He comes back to her with JJ and Kiara in tow. The three of them are clearly bickering about something, but stop the moment they are within earshot of Sloane. “Here ya go.” John B says, offering her a cup of beer. “Oh thanks.” She says taking it from him.

“Thanks for coming, Sloane.” Kie says smiling and cheering her cup with Sloane’s. She returns the smile and takes a sip from the cup John B handed her.

“So she does not smoke, but she does drink beer. Noted.” JJ remarks.

Sloane rolls her eyes and turns her attention to John B, “So are all the people here pogues?”

“No, some are pogues, some are kooks…”

“Like the asshole over there in the UNC shirt with the frosted tips.” JJ interjects.

“Ugh, who invited Topper.” Kie groans.

“Probably Sarah.” JJ says as he gives John B a look.

“I’ll ask her when she gets here. Anyways, back to your question, Sloane. If they aren’t a pogue or a kook then they are what we call a touron.” John B finishes. Sloane notices some tension in his voice at the mention of Topper.

“Sarah, the one that goes to UNC?” Sloane asks.

“Yes, and John B’s kook girlfriend.” JJ answers for John B. “She used to date Topper.”

“Keywords ‘used to’.” John B says and walks off motioning that he's going to refill his drink. Kie sees someone she knows and darts off leaving Sloane alone with JJ.

“So Sloane, what's your story? You a man-hater in general, or do you just hate me?” JJ asks, giving her a smirk.

“I think it's just you.” She grumbles.

He laughs once and Sloane decides he’s the worst kind of confident. Not only is he shamelessly aware of his appeal, he is so used to women throwing themselves at him that he is regarding her cool demeanor with him as refreshing and she rolls her eyes at the thought.

“You got a twitch? Your eyes keep wiggling around.” He laughs again when Sloane glares at him. “Maybe that’s just a me thing too. Those are some amazing eyes though,” He says leaning in towards her face. “What color are those, anyways? Blue?”

She had been staring back into his blue eyes as he was leaning forward and when she notices how close they are she looks away quickly.

“I can’t figure you out. You’re the first girl that’s ever been disgusted with me before sex. You don’t get flustered when you talk to me, and you don’t try to get my attention.”

“It’s not a game. I just don’t like you.”

“You don’t know me.”

Her frown involuntarily smooths and she sighs. “You’re right. I don’t know you, but I know guys like you. I don’t like being a foregone conclusion for the sole reason of having a vagina.” She stares out across the beach looking around and notices a fire has been started. She snaps back to JJ when she hears a choking noise from his direction.

His eyes wide and quivering with howling laughter. “Oh my God! You’re killing me! That’s it. We have to be friends. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Fine, we can be friends, but I'm not sleeping with you.”

“Yeah, yeah I get it Sloane. Just friends.” JJ says with a genuine smile.

For the first time she’s known JJ, she softens and returns his smile. “Phantom!” Some guy yells as he passes the two of them.

“Did that guy just call you phantom?” Sloane asks JJ.

“Yeah its a dumb nickname and its not important.” He shrugs and points to where John B stands with a girl with blonde hair. “That’s Sarah. Come on and I’ll introduce you.”

As they walk towards the couple Sloane notices how comfortable they are with each other. They are both talking to other people as they’re standing together and every now and then one of them touches the other. Sarah grabbing John B’s arm or hand and John B putting his hand on the small of her back periodically. The familiarity of it makes Sloane smile.

“Sarah!” JJ shouts enthusiastically and brings the girl into a hug.

“Hi JJ.” She says with a silvery voice.

“This is Sloane. She is Kiara’s new roommate and is attending UNC.” He gestures to Sloane who is standing there smiling. “This is Sarah.” He then gestures to Sarah looking at Sloane.

“Nice to meet you.” Sloane says, sticking her hand out for a handshake.

“Nice to meet you.” Sarah returns and sticks her hand out. “I see you’ve met JJ.” She teases with a knowing look.

“Alright. I introduced you to Sarah, so my good deeds are done for the night. I am headed off to mingle. Goodnight ladies.” He says and darts off towards a group of girls.

“So what’s your major?” Sarah asks.

“Nursing. You?”

“Business. My dad kind of insisted. He wants me to take over the family business someday.” Sarah explains. “I didn’t mean to run JJ off, by the way.” She notices Sloane looking at him across the beach.

“Oh no it’s fine. I was looking for Kiara.” Sloane lies. “Speaking of JJ, Some guy walked by and called him Phantom. What’s that about?”

“He’s still doing that?” Sarah snaps looking at John B. He puts his hands up in a form of surrender and looks at Sarah innocently. “I guess he is. Look Sarah, we need the money. Paying to live at The Chateau isn’t cheap.”

They both turn back to Sloane who has a confused expression still on her face. “JJ has been fighting in a secret fight ring for a few months to make some extra cash.” John B explains. Her line of sight drifts back to where the blonde boy is standing on the beach. “The guy who sets up the fights came up with the name the first night JJ fought and it stuck. He hates the nickname though- reminds him of his dad.”

Sloane wants to press for more information, but can tell the subject of the conversation has turned too personal so she lets it go. She sees JJ standing talking to a man with dark hair now off to the side of the group of girls. She sees no less than 5 girls repositioning their shirts to show off their boobs more or hiking their skirts up to show off their ass and she scoffs.

Kiara approaches the three of them standing there with a worried look on her face. “Why the hell is he talking to Barry again?”

“He’s apparently still fighting. Fuss at John B- He knew.” Sarah says cooly.

Kie glares at him. “John B! You said you would tell him to stop!”

“Hey! I said I would ask him to stop; I never said he would.” All four are now watching JJ as he shakes hands with Barry. “They shook hands; he’s got a fight. You know he’s gonna want us to go watch.” John B says to the girls.

“He’ll be lucky if I don’t beat his ass myself.” Kie seethes.

JJ strolls over to the group with a wide smile. “Tomorrow at midnight. UNC biology building basement I have a fight.”

“JJ what the hell did we talk about!” Kie yells.

“Mama’s mad.” He fake pouts. “Come on Kie. You know I’m good. I don’t know why you worry so much about me fighting. We need the cash. Do you want us to lose The Chateau?” He pleads with Kie taking her hands in his.

“No,” She breathes out. His wide smile appears as easily as it went away moments ago to produce the fake pout he put on to coerce Kiara. “You all have to come tomorrow night to the fight. It’s going to be a big one. That means you too Sloane.”

[rinkrats]

Their first night as teammates, housemates, doesn’t go well. Crosby remembers (Eric) Neilson walking off the bus.

“There’s this big guy, the best mushroom cut I’ve ever seen, full of energy, right away just hootin’ and hollerin’ at the bus station after a long trip. You can tell right away, just a great guy to be around. Seemed pretty normal - and then he said (laughs), he said: ‘Make sure you open my window tonight’.”

They had bedrooms next to each other in their billet’s basement.

“He said that he was going to wait at the billet to make sure that he was there if there was a curfew call, but that he needed his window open to get back after curfew. So, I’m thinking to myself, ‘Okay… here we go’.

So I go into my room and sure enough, I fall asleep. I totally forget that he’d asked me that, and I wake up around 2 or 3, and I hear this banging and crashing, and I have no idea what it is. I can’t tell where the noise is coming from. It’s my first night there, obviously I don’t know my billet that well at this time, so I just kind of shake it off and go back to sleep. At that time, I totally forgot what he had asked me.

So I go back to sleep, wake up in the morning. Supposed to wake him up for the practice in the morning. So I open his door. It’s freezing cold in his room. I look up and the window is just demolished. And I’m thinking, ‘Oh… I forgot to open the window’.

He just rolls over, and he’s so pissed off at me. I think he just sighed and said, ‘What did I ask you?’ (laughs) I said, ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry, I totally forgot. I fell asleep.’ It wasn’t a great start.”

Luckily, it’s easy to forgive a guy who’s about to turn your franchise around.

Neilson and Crosby quickly become best buds. A local Mazda dealership gives them a sponsored car. Crosby doesn’t have his driver’s licence yet, so the dealership puts his name and number on the passenger side door. 87, Crosby. And on the driver’s side: Neilson, 29.

“It’s Driving Miss Daisy. Like I’m his personal chauffeur, right? Everywhere Darryl needs to go, I take him. But it was kinda fun. We had a good time with it. Taught him how to drive a little bit. We’d go to the parking lot and he was an awful driver. Still is a bad driver, but he just never really got the hang of 10 and 2 and being able to check the mirror. He’s just pretty bad. He’s a lot better a hockey player than he was a driver, that’s for sure.”

Crosby can’t handle a stick. Now that’s irony.

These are golden days for the boys. With Crosby, the Oceanic go from the basement to instant contender. And Neilson has a driver’s side view of the future of hockey.

But one night, he almost blows that last chance the Oceanic have given him.

They’re out late after a game. Neilson is the driver. He’s taking home a couple of drunk teammates and there are girls in the back. He’s showing off. Comes around a corner, tries to do this emergency brake Tokyo Drift thing and loses control.

...An officer shows up, says: “Hey, I know it was a mistake. I’ll make sure you don’t get into trouble. I just need one favour. All I want is two Crosby autographed cards in return.”

“I said, ‘Got it. Right away. Whatever you need’.”

A tow truck takes away the beaten-up Mazda and the officer drives Neilson back to his billet’s house. He runs into Crosby’s room, grabs the cards and a marker from his desk and shakes Crosby awake.

“‘Hey, Darryl, buddy, you gotta sign these cards for me, man.’ He’s a heavy sleeper. You know, Sidney Crosby, he’s hard to wake up and he doesn’t really remember a whole lot when you do wake him up from his beauty sleep. So I got him to sign the two cards, and go back up and give them to the cop.”

The next morning, Crosby comes down for breakfast.

Sid: “When I wake up that morning, I knew something was- I was like, what happened? But I couldn’t really - I was pretty out of it.”

Neilson: “Sitting at the table, I see him come up the stairs. And I look, and he’s got marker on his face, on his chest, everywhere. And I’m like, ‘Holy shit!’”

Sid: “He had gotten me to sign cards but he was in such a hurry or whatever, he just left the marker in my bed. So what happened was I had kind of tossed and turned that night.”

Neilson: “I was like, ‘Darryl, go look in the mirror, man’. And he’s like, ‘What?’. I said, ‘Go look in the mirror!’ So he goes and he comes back and he’s like, ‘What the fuck, Neilson?! What? What?!?! What are you-?’ He thought that we had pranked him, that we wrote in permanent marker on him while he was sleeping.”

Sid: “I thought, ‘Well, they probably just came home and, like, wrote all over me or something, while I was asleep’. But then I came upstairs that morning and he kind of told me the whole story, and it’s not what I was expecting obviously (laughs). Kind of an interesting way to wake up in the morning. ‘Car’s totalled, and I got you to sign a few cards’.”

Neilson: “He was pretty pissed off about that one. He was pretty upset once I told him the real story, and once we got the permanent marker washed off his chest and his face.”

...Neilson never makes it to the NHL. He becomes a journeyman enforcer, mostly in the minors. But he takes great joy and a mentor’s pride in watching Crosby become a superstar. The two remain close friends. Crosby writes “Darryl” on his gloves his entire first season in Pittsburgh. At season’s end, he gives Neilson and three of the Rimouski vets who nicknamed him a set of the gloves.

To this day, Neilson refuses to say the name Sidney or Crosby. Sid is Darryl. Darryl only. Darryl forever.

-Beauties Episode 1, Oct 13 2020: Darryl

If you need some Sidney Crosby serotonin, Sid’s voice and some stories from his Rimouski days in this short podcast by James Duthie

[drabbles-mc]

First Impressions

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by @eversonaive​ : Could do a fic on the reader meeting Juice when he has the sign stuck to his chest only to find out later he is the club's intelligence officer lol

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language, Juice being an embarrassed lil cutie

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I loved writing this. Flustered Juice gives me life lmao. I hope it’s what you had in mind! I peppered in a couple other of our SAMCRO boys because why not?

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @adela-topaz-caelon​ @garbinge​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @xladymacbethx​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @mayans-sauce​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know! xo)

You couldn’t pretend that you weren’t surprised, and a little off-put by the scene in front of you. You looked around, wondering why you felt like you were the only one who saw what you were seeing. Everyone else was walking by, minding their own business, but you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t notice.

Crouching down, you pressed your fingers gently against the side of his neck, and you were rewarded with a fairly steady pulse. Relief flooded through you, glad you weren’t going to have to report a dead body. However, you weren’t quite sure how to handle the scene in front of you.

Gently nudging him, you tried to wake him up. He let out a soft groan but didn’t fully wake up. With a heavy sigh, you shook him a little harder but weren’t able to wake him. Pressing your lips together into a thin line, you patted the side of his face. You saw his brows furrow and twitch and you knew that he was almost awake.

“Hey,” you shook him and patted his cheek again, “you good?”

With a groan and what seemed like more effort than it should’ve taken, he slowly started to open his eyes. Part of you wanted to laugh because he seemed like he was probably going to be alright, but more than anything you were just confused.

“You alright? Looks like you’ve had…a time.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the state of himself. The fact that he didn’t seem shocked and appalled spoke volumes. With a quiet grunt, he forced himself to his feet.

“Do I have to be worried about you?” you couldn’t help but to look him up and down again. With a chuckle and a shake of his head he reassured you that he was fine, which did little to actually make you feel better, “There somewhere I should be take you?”

He laughed, “No. Don’t worry. Thank you for, uh, waking me up. Way better than getting kicked by the cops,” he shook his head.

“Small miracles,” you had to laugh.

“Yea,” he glanced down at the sign on his chest and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was weighing the pros and cons of ripping it off right then and there, “I should go. I’m uh,” he gestured to the cardboard, “apparently late for my eight o’clock feeding.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s unfortunate.”

With a deep breath he pulled the sign from his chest and you both cringed. He cursed under his breath from the pain of it before folding it and tucking it underneath his arm. He gave you a lopsided grin and a small wave before turning and walking in the other direction away from you. You stood there, feeling like you should be offering him a shirt, or something to at least tie around his waist, but he seemed pretty unbothered by it all, so you let him go. You shook your head to yourself as you continued on your way, unable to believe what a weird day you’d already had.

A few days went by and you hadn’t forgotten about your run-in on the street that morning. It was a tough scene to forget. You didn’t want to believe that that was going to be the first and last time you ever saw him. If nothing else, you just wanted some closure on the situation, and you also wanted to know how the hell he ended up like that.

Your mind had wandered back to that situation as you stood outside your car waiting for the tow truck. You knew that your car was on its last leg to begin with, and that you should’ve set about looking for a new one some time ago, but you just kept putting it off. The thought of shopping for one, and then paying for one was overwhelming. You were paying for it in an entirely different way now, though. You knew that fixing whatever was wrong with your car was probably going to cost more than it was worth. So, to distract yourself from thinking about that, you thought about literally anything else as you sat half propped up onto your hood.

You’d gone to Teller-Morrow one other time, maybe twice, since you’d moved just outside of Charming. You didn’t remember anything about it, though—you were in and out quick for an oil change or something equally innocuous. There weren’t a whole lot of options for mechanics to begin with, let alone ones that would also tow. Plus you figured since they were local, it wouldn’t take them too long to get to you.

About twenty minutes later the tow-truck pulled up, and you were a mix of relieved and apprehensive. Two men stepped out, and your first thought was that they couldn’t have carried themselves more differently from each other if they tried. The taller one approached you, adjusting his beanie slightly as he did, while the other scampered around to start hooking the truck up to your car.

“So,” he walked up to you, a small smile on his face for a moment as he looked at you, “what seems to be the problem?”

You chuckled and shook your head as you clocked the name stitched into his work shirt, “Well, it stopped running. That’s about all I know, Opie,” you smiled at him.

He laughed, nodding his head slightly, “Sounds like a pretty serious issue, then.”

“I’d say so.”

He glanced back to make sure that your car had been hooked up alright, “You need to be dropped off somewhere, or you got a ride?”

You sighed, resting your hand on the back of your neck as you thought, “Would I be able to ride back to the shop with you guys?”

He nodded, “Sure thing. Long as you don’t mind Kip staring at you the whole time,” he gestured over to the man who was waiting by the door of the tow truck.

You laughed, “Staring I can handle.”

When they pulled into the lot at the mechanics, Opie got out and instructed Kip to take care of the rest. He looked over to you and gestured to the office, “Gemma will get you all set up. We’ll get it right on the lift and try to figure out what’s going on.”

You nodded, “Thank you, appreciate it.”

You knocked lightly on the door to the office and she called for you to come in. She got you all squared away with your paperwork to get everything started. You let her know that if it ended up being more than a certain amount to just not bother and scrap it, or to give it back and you would take care of that part yourself. You weren’t in a position to be paying more than the car was worth. There was sympathy present in her eyes as she listened to you, nodding along. You hated the feeling of pity but you couldn’t deny that you’d landed yourself into a bit of a hole.

She was walking you back out of the office, “We’ll give you a call when we’ve got some numbers for you, sweetheart.”

“Sounds good. Thank you guys so much.”

“Need us to call you a cab?”

You shook your head, “No, no I’ll be alright. Thank you though.”

You were walking across the lot, pulling out your phone as you did to try and figure out who you were going to call to come and pick you up. There was a sudden influx of noise and voices. And despite the fact that you heard it, you still didn’t look up.

The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the feeling of someone’s shoulder bumping into yours. You looked up and both of you were in the middle of apologizing when your eyes met his. Neither of you could hide the shock on your faces as you took each other in.

He looked a lot different when he wasn’t coming out of a mild coma. And also when he was fully dressed with an MC kutte on. You’d missed out on the fact that he was handsome in the midst of worrying about his well-being the last time you saw him.

“Oh shit,” he laughed, “hey.”

“Uh, hey,” you couldn’t help but to stare at him, “I didn’t…expect to see you here. Or again in general, for that matter.”

Another man in a kutte appeared, draping his arm around the shoulder of the man that you were talking to, “Juicy,” he said, “who’s your friend?”

He wore his nerves on his face, “Um. She’s not, uh, she’s—”

You cut him off to save him the trouble, holding out your hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he let your name roll off his tongue, “nice to meet you. I’m Jax,” he paused, looking back and forth between you and the man next to him, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, “Sorry to interrupt,” you could see that he was biting back a laugh.

“No, you’re…you’re good,” you reassured him, “Nothing to interrupt. Just, um, a little surprised by,” you gestured to the two of them and to the clubhouse behind them, “all of this.”

“Well then I gotta ask,” Jax continued to stare at Juice who seemed to be getting more and more shy by the second, “how do you know Charming’s favorite Puerto Rican Intelligence Officer?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped past your lips, “Intelligence Officer?”

Jax nodded, clapping Juice on the back as though he thought he was hyping him up, “For the club, yea. Can find out anything about anyone. Also our resident tech guy.”

You chuckled, unable to lie and say that you weren’t a little impressed, “Impressive. Guess we didn’t have time to get into all that last time we met.”

“Oh?” Jax looked back and forth between the two of you, embarrassment creeping onto Juice’s features.

“Yea, he was running a behind schedule. Had places to be.”

Jax looked over at him, “Where the hell did you have to be that could’ve been more important, bro?”

Juice ran his hands down his face, knowing that he was going to have to cop to it sooner or later, “When we met I was, um…she actually…” he shook his head, “She’s the one who woke me up the other day. Made sure I was alright.”

The entire incident had clearly already faded from Jax’s memory because he looked as lost as he had been before Juice said anything. You smiled, “I made sure he eventually made it to his eight o’clock feeding.”

Recognition flashed across Jax’s face and he laughed, “Jesus. Sorry you had to be a part of that.”

“Sure, her you’ll apologize to,” Juice rolled his eyes.

“She didn’t deserve it,” Jax chuckled and shook his head, “Well it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll leave Juice to try and clean up whatever mess he might’ve made.”

He walked away from the both of you and you could head him laughing to himself as he approached the rest of the guys. You and Juice stood there facing each other, neither one of you really knowing what to say.

You broke the silence, “Won’t lie to you, Juice,” it felt nice to finally be able to address him as something, “over the past few days when I’ve been trying to think about what your life was like for it to land you in that situation, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“You’ve been thinkin’ about me?” he smirked.

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “You made quite the impression,” you looked him in the eyes, “I’m glad you’re alright though.”

He chuckled, “Not the worst thing they’ve ever done to me.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s a little concerning.”

“Sorry you got, uh, subjected to that,” he shook his head, “wrong place, wrong time.”

You waited for him to meet your gaze and you flashed him a smile, “I wouldn’t quite say that.”

There was a light in his eyes that was so enticing, “Right. Well. I’m glad I got a chance to make a better first impression. Sort of. Maybe,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence before he spoke up again, “What brings you here anyway?”

You nodded towards the garage, “Car broke down.”

“Shit.”

Your laugh was a hollow, “Yea. Fucking sucks. Hoping they can fix it without bleeding me dry.”

Juice thought hard about it for a few moments, “I’ll take a look at it. I’ll see what I can do, see if I can get you a deal or something.”

“Yea?” you couldn’t hide your relief.

He nodded, “Yea. Least I could do.”

“You’d really be saving my ass.”

He laughed, “Guess that would make us even.”

You chuckled and nodded, “Guess so.”

He paused for a moment, eyes glued to the pavement, “If you want, you could, uh, you could give me your number,” he looked up at you, “and I’ll give you a call when I get it all sorted.”

You smiled, “Alright. Sounds good,” you held out your hand for his phone and quickly added your number to his contacts, “Hope to hear from you soon, Juice.”

“Juan,” he said quietly as he took the phone back from you.

“Hm?”

He looked at you, “Juan. My name is Juan.”

You smiled, “Well, then, Juan, I’ll talk to you soon,” you paused and bit back a laugh, “Try to keep yourself out of sticky situations, alright?”

“Well now at least I have you to call just in case,” he smirked.

“Won’t be able to come and get you until you fix my car,” you chuckled, “So at least be careful for a few days.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Good,” you stepped in and gave him a quick hug, “Thank you, Juan, seriously.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” you flashed him a smile before turning and continuing your way out of the parking lot.

You chanced a look back over your shoulder and saw that he was still standing there staring at you with a smile and a dreamy look on his face. You laughed and shook your head as you turned back around. There was something to be said about memorable first impressions, and something told you that you had landed yourself in an adventure when you met him. You were excited to find out what was in store.

[luluwquidprocrow]

columbo and the g-man

columbo & dale cooper 

teen

2,646 words 

California, June 1980; Two timeless men have a conversation over chili and cherry pie.

my fic for @spunkyjacobin for @countdowntotwinpeaks’s wonderfulxstrange!! some diner talks and time/life shenanigans with columbo and coop. 

His Peugeot always was a sturdy little car. It coasted along for another mile or so down the side of the busy San Francisco boulevard before it slid to a quiet stop across two parking spaces beside a bold, silver diner, just missing the Dodge Diplomat in the next spot.

Columbo took in the sight, standing by his car and rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn’t that his car looked old—the past twenty years with it had dented the shine, a little, he’d admit, but it still looked good. You knew it was a car, you knew it was a solid car, the kind of car that was going to take you places with minimal fuss, appropriate storage, and could handle a little wear here and there from Dog, as all cars should. It was more, next to his car, the diner looked very, very new.

He went around to the front of his car and hoisted the hood up, bending over to get a good look at the engine. If that was the engine. Unless it was the accelerator. Unless it was the—what was it? The oil tank? He kept one hand palm-flat against the underside of the hood to keep it up, cigar between his fingers, and shuffled himself in closer across the gears. Maybe that was the oil tank. It looked about how he thought an oil tank could look. You learned something new every day, Columbo thought, always amazed. He inched himself back out and gave the whole thing a once-over.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding a little. Twenty years of car ownership still didn’t make a mechanic, even if you loved your car. He closed the hood and gave the side a bracing, sympathetic pat. There had to be a phone inside the diner, and a phone book or an obliging waiter he could ask for a towing company to take it to a local mechanic. His regular one back in L.A. was gonna give him an earful when he got home, that was for sure.

Columbo was pleased to see the inside of the diner had much more character than the polished outside. It was his kind of diner. Just bursting with personality. A blue-hued homey atmosphere, crowded booths you had to peel yourself out of, an impressive rotating dessert rack just to the left of the doors, a very obliging waiter who let him behind the front counter to use the phone and gave him the number of two towing companies, and another number for someone he assured Columbo the best mechanic in the city, bar none. He was a chipper young kid, ready to help. He had Columbo chuckling to himself as he dialed the phone. Columbo loved people, he really did. He saw some of the worst of people, in his line of work, sure, but he got to see the kindness, too, the cleverness, the brightness. Deep down, the whole world spun on that, that brightness, that humanity. And he really, really loved it.

The first towing company said they could be there in an hour, and that was just fine with Columbo. A diner, after all, was one of the best places to kill an hour.

“Lieutenant?”

A young man in a crisp, black suit was raising a hand, standing up from a window booth, smiling broadly. The FBI agent from that big fiber-sample procedure seminar this morning, who’d sat near Columbo and loaned him a pen, talking comfortably with him during the break about their jobs and San Francisco and Los Angeles, a real companionable sort of guy—Dale Cooper, that was his name. Columbo never forgot a name. Had he given Cooper his pen back? He patted down his pockets as he made his way over. Yes, he had. He found the waiter’s pen still tucked in his hand next to his cigar, though, and slipped the pen into the front pocket on his shirt. He’d have to give that back.

“Lieutenant, this is a fortunate surprise,” Cooper said, shaking Columbo’s hand in a short, professional motion. “I had thought you were on your way back to the City of Angels.”

“Well, so did I,” Columbo said. “But my car had a different idea. Second time it broke down this month, can you believe that? You know, my wife, she told me I should’ve taken her car up here, but—” He looked out the window at his car, which was attracting a few stares from people on their way back to their own cars. “—you just can’t leave a quality car like that sitting at home when you leave town.” And, it had an indent from Dog’s weight in the backseat, and the passenger seat still smelled like his wife’s perfume from when he dropped a bottle of it, and you had to take the good things with you. Also, his wife refused to drive the Peugeot, and if he took her car, how was she gonna get to night school? Her sister was out of town too, so—“Now, the towing company said they’d be here in about an hour, so it looks like I’ll be sticking around for a little while longer.”

“Would you like to join me for lunch while you wait?”

“Oh—well I couldn’t impose—”

“The exact opposite of an imposition,” Cooper said. “It would be my treat.” He gestured at the booth seat across from him, and he sat back down once Columbo took the seat.

He’d talked with Cooper for a while at the seminar, but here, under the bright lights of the diner, Columbo got a real good look at him. Cooper had to be a good twenty years younger than him, maybe more, but there was nothing green about the man. He carried himself with a calm, collected expression and a genuine joy that intrigued Columbo, because it still couldn’t hide the hollowness in his cheeks, like he’d lost too much weight and never quite recovered it all. Cooper had said before that he’d been in violent crimes for some time and was now on his way to counterintelligence, but Columbo didn’t think that accounted for everything. The age in Cooper’s eyes, the slight tremble in his hands when he picked up his fork, the way his whole person just didn’t seem to sit right on him. The two times Columbo had seen him, he was alone. Sometimes people liked to be alone, sure. But Cooper looked like he was waiting.

All of a sudden, Columbo got the feeling Cooper wasn’t the kind of person you could get a real, true straight answer out of, not if you asked him something important. Not that that mattered, because he wasn’t a murder suspect, and Columbo didn’t poke and prod and push his friends, most of the time. It was just something he noticed, because Columbo noticed everything.

If Cooper knew that Columbo was watching him, he didn’t show it, because Cooper was contentedly digging into the big slice of cherry pie on the plate in front of him. It was a nice piece of pie.

“Say, that’s some lunch,” Columbo said, leaning across the table. He brought his cigar close to his mouth, and Cooper’s shoulders shifted, a flinch quickly caught and stopped and pulled back down. “Oh, uh—excuse me,” Columbo murmured. He considered his cigar. It was well on its way to quietly smoldering out, so he placed it gently in the pocket of his raincoat.

Cooper’s posture relaxed fully, and he adjusted his grip on his fork, that grin returning to his face. “I believe the quality of a diner can be judged on how they proportion the filling of their desert pies to the crust, with cherries in particular—and when it is especially well done, it is only fitting to indulge oneself on a well-made pleasure.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Columbo said with his own grin.

Cooper motioned the young waiter over, and Columbo traded the waiter the pen for a menu. He didn’t keep it for long. He caught the word chili and it was all he needed; that was his own diner test. He ordered it with a coffee, plain black, because it was pretty hard to go wrong with coffee. Possible, but unlikely in a diner. “That chili, that comes with crackers, doesn’t it?”

“Yes it does, sir,” the waiter said.

“Could I have some extra crackers?” Chili wasn’t chili without good crackers to crumble.

“Of course.”

“Could I have an additional piece of pie, as well?” Cooper asked.

“Of course.”

The waiter took the menu back and disappeared into the kitchen. Columbo folded his hands together on top of the table to wait for the chili, missing his cigar just a little.

Cooper took the bite of pie that was still on his fork. When he swallowed, he said, “You mention your wife a great deal, Lieutenant. How long have you been married?”

“About sixteen years now,” Columbo said.

Cooper smiled again, so pleasantly. “You must love each other a great deal. I’m very happy for you, sir.”

“Thank you,” Columbo said, nodding his head, feeling a little bashful. “Thank you, very much." There was something waxy about Cooper’s smile, even when it was that pleasant. Like he was trying harder than he should’ve been, for a conversation about someone’s marriage. Columbo didn’t feel bad for him—feeling bad for anybody never helped them, not really. Pity, in his opinion, just made people feel better about themselves. You helped when you did something for someone else. He cast around for something to ask in return that would be easier for Cooper to talk about. “So, where do you stand on donuts? Cause, for me, I think they’re the top dessert.”

Cooper’s eyes lit up immediately.

They chattered back and forth about desserts until the waiter returned again, putting down Columbo’s chili, cracker packets tucked all along between the bowl and the plate, and his coffee, and then Cooper’s next slice of pie. Columbo tore a few of the packets open and shook the crackers into his hand, crumbling them up over the chili. He scooped a great pile of chili onto his spoon, while Cooper made quick work of the rest of the first pie slice before pushing the plate away and pulling the new one closer.

It was a fine lunch, with great company, and the chili was one of the most remarkable bowls of chili he’d ever eaten, helped considerably by the crackers and Cooper’s company. He liked to listen, and Columbo liked to talk, and he spun stories about the lighter side of his work, said nothing more about his wife, mentioned Dog a few times—Cooper didn’t seem to like dogs a great deal, but Columbo assured him, he’d like Dog. Nobody didn’t like Dog, he told him. A low-to-the-ground hound with big droopy eyes, that was hard for anybody to resist. His story about the ducks in the park near his house, Cooper especially enjoyed that one. Columbo finished his chili, Cooper ordered another piece of pie, and then Columbo could feel it, like a breeze running through his fingers. Time was slowing down. Columbo was no stranger to time moving around him. That was what time did, it shifted and moved and went on, sometimes when it should, sometimes when it shouldn’t.

He wasn’t sure if Cooper noticed, but Cooper’s fork had paused over the pie again. When he looked up at Columbo, a shadow was passing over his face, and it stayed there, like it belonged there, at home on Cooper’s thin face. The undercurrent thing that ran through Cooper’s whole person. Columbo was not surprised to see that it looked like fear. It made Cooper even younger.

He caught a quick look at himself in the reflection of the window. Age suddenly cast him in a distinguished, crumpled grey, deep crows feet pulling at the corner of his eyes. He looked back at Cooper.

“One day you won’t be here,” Cooper said.

Columbo smiled and inclined his head. “No, I won’t,” he said. His voice had faded too, into a soft gravel. That was going to be something to look forward to, when it happened for real.

Cooper’s face distorted into a pale and reversed version of it, his eyes a deadly blank.

“That’s how it goes, you know,” Columbo pointed out, not unkindly.

Cooper’s expression turned over, and he was different again, much, much older, his face drawn and shrunken in, hair greasy and shoulder-length. Then he looked the same age, but closer to the way he was supposed to look now, before that fear had unsettled itself inside him. The sadness on him was bone-deep.

Columbo squinted at him. His left eye was gonna do it even more as he got older and older. Cooper wouldn’t be here either, it looked like, but in a different way. Sometimes that happened. You lost yourself, until you only had pieces left. Columbo had never had that problem. He knew who he was, inside and out, where he was going, where he’d end up. He was content with the life he led and what he would do. When you weren’t so sure, it could be dangerous.

“What will I do?” Cooper asked.

“I’ve never really been one for all those philosophical questions,” Columbo said. He scooped up the last of his chili. “What do you wanna do?”

He was young again, younger. A line of blood ran down the front of his shirt. “I don’t think it matters,” he whispered. “I’ve done nothing to stop the evil in this world.”

Columbo chewed thoughtfully. “Is that what you think’s out there?”

“I know,” Cooper said. “I know.” He sounded like he could say it again and again and never stop. Columbo could hear it echoing around them.

He didn’t think you could argue or reason with evil. It was only one piece of the puzzle, after all, and just one little piece at that. Cooper probably didn’t want to hear it. Nothing was gonna change his mind, not now. So Columbo offered what he always did.

“You gonna finish your pie?” Columbo asked, nudging the plate closer to Cooper.

Cooper looked down at the plate. Then he dug his fork into it and took another bite.

Time started up again, flowing back through the diner. Columbo looked once again like the version of himself he was supposed to be right now, and so did Cooper. They continued like nothing had happened, because sometimes that was all you could do. Cooper finished his pie. 

A loud, impressive rumble came from outside the window, and he and Cooper turned. The tow truck had pulled into the parking lot, a man getting out of the cab and stopping when he saw Columbo’s car.

“Oh, that’ll be for me,” Columbo said. He stood up from the seat and brushed the crumbs off of his pants. Cooper stood up after him.

“It’s been a pleasure, Lieutenant,” Cooper said. “A lunch I will not soon forget.”

“You take care of yourself, now,” Columbo said, shaking Cooper’s hand. “And if you ever find yourself down in L.A., my wife and I would just love to have you come over for dinner. She makes this lasagna—well, you’ll just have to stick around and see for yourself.”

Cooper smiled. It looked pretty genuine. “I’ll keep that in mind, Lieutenant. Thank you.”

Columbo made sure Cooper had turned back to his pie before he found their waiter and slipped him the cash for the lunch. Columbo told him to give his compliments to the chef for the chili, and the cherry pie, and then made his way back outside, into the bright summer afternoon, taking his cigar out of his raincoat pocket again.

[sunnypogue]

rafe plays college hockey (headcanon)

for all y’all who requested college hockey rafe. i’m just tryna manifest something over here.

warning: cursing, drinking. the sunnypogue special.

y’all met because of hockey.

okay actually y’all technically met because of your 8 am american lit seminar, but the only reason y’all spoke to each other was because of hockey

it was 7:57 am on a Thursday, you had a hangover from your weekly wine wednesday event (which always devolved into walking two streets over to your favorite bar, ordering a round of shots, and getting absolutely shitcanned), and your big ass mouth got you in trouble when you sat down.

“we have a hockey team?” you whisper-yelled, nudging your equally hungover friend as you pointed towards the sweatshirt in front of you

your friend laughed as the guy in said sweatshirt turned around (and his friend next to him, also wearing a UAH HOCKEY hoodie). “your reading comprehension is off the charts.”

you gaped, half embarrassed, half enraged - “okay, well don’t blame me for being surprised - it’s alabama for christ sake.”

“we’re like the token school in the south with a hockey team - how did you not know that?”

you, refusing to back down, argued with him until your professor came in - he got the last word, “alright, well we have a game tomorrow night. might be time for you to branch out and try new things outside of whiskey row.”

(you waited until he turned around before flushing and quietly asking your friend if you still smelled like booze - her answer was an unequivocal yes.)

anyways, that’s how you found yourself at a hockey game, alone, in huntsville, alabama, on a warm october night.

you were NOT dressed for the occasion (fully planning on leaving at whenever it was they took a break to meet your friends at whiskey row) rocking a little flowy halter and high waisted flares - instantly freezing your ass off as you sat on a bleacher towards the back.

he caught your eye immediately, one of the taller ones on the ice, “cameron 19” sitting on his broad shoulders, bucket loosely clasped as he skated around the ice

the game started quickly, and despite your shivering, you rather enjoyed yourself, picking up the cues on when to cheer (this crowd LOVED it when the players checked each other) & when to boo (literally whenever the refs breathed) - it was fast, and fun, and that asshole from your lit class? he was GOOD.

you didn’t even realize you had stayed the whole game until the buzzer sounded, signaling a UAH win. the boys on the ice were hanging around, chatting with local fans - you pocketed your phone (which was blowing up with texts from your friends, wondering where you were) and mustered up the courage to go say hi to the guy from your class

he skated up towards the glass as he saw you descend down the bleachers - grinning and gesturing to shift over to the empty bench, where you wouldn’t be obstructed.

you hugged yourself. “good game, I guess.”

his tongue slid over his teeth before he smiled one hand holding his helmet, the other pushing his sweaty hair back. “you guess?”

you huffed. “I mean, I don’t know, it was my first hockey game and it was really fast and really cold and I didn’t know what the fuck was going on but...yeah. it was good.” you paused, before looking up at him through your lashes. “you were good.”

you rolled your eyes as you watched his chest puff up - men - before you continued, “well, I gotta go...I’m freezing my tits off in here. but thanks for the kinda-invite, I guess.”

you started to turn, when his voice called out “hey! you know, we have a game next week. same time - consider this a formal invitation.”

and that’s how you found yourself at your second-ever hockey game, dressed slightly more appropriate (although the girls were still perky - had to show a lil something), cheering rafe on (you finally got his name after he asked you for your number after class) as he sped down the ice like a wrecking ball, slamming opposing players into the boards, cross-checking when the refs weren’t looking his way.

you were dying - how had no one told you how hot this sport was? you actively had to stop yourself from biting your lip every time he hit someone.

and then he scored - and you were a goner.

after the game, you went to meet him (per his instructions) outside the locker room, friends in tow

“must have been your lucky day, ladies, this guy never goes bar down!” a guy you knew as “top” yelled, arm hooked around rafe, who was a little red in the face.

“gotta show off for your fan club, huh cameron?” a voice crowed from just inside the locker room.

“shut up, kelce.” he yelled, pushing the door shut, before turning your way. 

you gulped, looking up as he towered over you in his skates. “hey, uh, thanks for coming girls.”

your friends giggled, offering their congrats, before gracefully bowing out - “come meet us at whiskey, babes!”

you blushed. “you had a great game. and, uh, a great goal. y’all call them goals, right?”

he laughed, tugging on his gear. “yeah, we call them that. thanks again for coming. who knew you had two hockey games in you?”

you smacked him on the arm, before giving him a coy smile. “hey, after that performance, I think I have a couple more in me.”

he couldn’t ask you fast enough to come grab a bite to eat with him. - “I’ll be out in like, 10...like 8 minutes.” he said, already heading towards the door to the locker room. “just wait - wait here.”

(he was showered and changed in 7 minutes - you were impressed.)

he took you to a local mexican place, known for their beeritas and carne asada tacos - y’all sat there for three hours, getting to know each other.

(you learned he was from the outer banks, fell in love with hockey because of his mom’s dad - a huge rangers fan - and ended up at UAH because it was the only school that recruited in north carolina. he had two sisters - one he tolerated, one he adored - and had a pipe dream of making it to the show one day)

he offered you his sweatshirt (the same one that you had made fun of, that one morning) and drove you home (his huge hand spanning the width of your upper thigh, a light, possessive grip the whole ride)

you kissed him twice (once in the car, soft and sweet, and once on your front porch, where he pinned you to the wall and slipped his tongue into your mouth, long and slow, biting your lip when you finally went to pull away) and spent the rest of the night curled up in your bed, still wrapped up in his warm hoodie, thinking about him.

you kept thinking about him the whole weekend, exchanging texts (some naughty, some nice) & FaceTiming once (you were hammered in the whiskey bathrooms, whining about missing him - he laughed, before reminding you to be a good girl)

it wasn’t until your tuesday 8 am when you saw him again, chest going all warm at the sight of him (rocking a patagonia instead of his usual hockey hoodie, which was laying at the foot of your bed)

he offered you a wink as he walked in, making his way over to his seat, before turning and sliding something on your desk

it was a magnet, with the UAH hockey 2020-21 schedule on it, his face one of the centerpieces. you giggled.

“hey, didn’t know if you had heard, but UAH has a hockey team - wanna come to a game?”

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday

This is a piece of a long oneshot I was working on that I actually just went back to so I could change the era this took place in to use for something else! So this is is the modern meeting of small-town Link and big-city-moving-to-small-town-for-work Zelda. 

I might still go back to this one specifically, especially since most of this info can’t transfer to the earlier era I’m changing it to. I also haven’t edited it, since I’m just in the process of hijacking bits and pieces, so please excuse my dear Aunt Sally. No, wait... that’s not writing... 

~~~~

“I just can’t believe they sent me here,” Zelda said into her phone. It was tucked between her cheek and her shoulder as she drove down a dirt road. On one side, there was farmland: an extensive few acres of it, from what she could tell. On her other side, trees.

Zelda loved trees. She did! They were a big part of her job, and she had nothing against them. But goddess above, she’d never seen so many trees in her life. Glancing at the clock, she realized that she’d been surrounded by trees for nearly an hour now, overwhelmed by the sight.

A city girl through and through, her entire life had been spent in the bustle of Castle Town: the largest, busiest, most innovative and thriving city in all of Hyrule. She’d gone to the best schools there, and worked at an exclusive corporation.

But they needed her to go somewhere else.

For the sake of the research, she reminded herself as she tried to focus on the phone and not all the trees. Or the mountains that replaced skyscrapers and castles. Or the farms that replaced parks and streets.

On the other end of the receiver were two voices. One was Midna, Zelda’s best friend. The other was Tetra, her older sister. The three of them together were incredibly close, and Midna had even offered to uproot her own life to join Zelda on this rural adventure. But Zelda had told her to hold down the fort; this move wasn’t permanent, and she’d be joining Midna back in their three-bedroom apartment that they all had shared in the heart of Castle Town.

“Are you almost there?” Midna asked, loudly typing something into her computer.

“She’s got to be,” Tetra muttered.

“I think I am.” Zelda looked around, but there were only… more trees. Shocker. “If the moving truck could find this place, then so can I.”

“Does she start work tomorrow?” Tetra asked, clearly directed at Midna.

“No,” Zelda answered for her. “I start Monday. They’re going to send me all the information ‘once I get settled.’”

“At least you know how much they value you,” Midna tried, but it was clearly a forced compliment and a poor attempt to make Zelda feel any better about taking this position. But really, when her boss asked her to take on a special assignment, one that paid double her old salary, she couldn’t resist, no matter how uprooted her life became.

“I know, but it’s—”

Suddenly, there was more than just trees.

A goat stepped into the road, much faster than Zelda ever thought goat could move. She dropped the phone, let out a high-pitched noise of absolute panic, and swerved around the goat. But she swerved off the dirt path, heard a thud, felt the car shake, and immediately slammed the breaks, rearing forward into the steering wheel.

“Sweet Goddess Hylia and all things holy!” she hissed, breathing heavily. Her chest hurt where she’d bounced into the wheel, but it hadn’t nearly been hard enough to cause the airbags to deploy.

Quickly putting the car in park, she shakily unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped outside, shaking out her hands and letting out some nerves before reaching into the car to grab the fallen phone.

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, brushing her hair from her face. “I almost hit a goat.”

“Goddess!” they both breathed. “We thought you were dead! My heart, Zelda!”

“I know, I’m sorry! Look, I hit something. I don’t see any dead animals in the road, but I’m going to hang up so I can look. I’ll call you later.”

The three of them were notorious for never saying ‘goodbye’ on the phone. Really, they didn’t do it in real life either. Even when Zelda left, the last thing Tetra had said was ‘I’ll come up to visit  real soon’, and Midna had said, ‘find me a hottie, or some other excuse to move up there with you.’

So, Zelda hung up with just a promise to call them back, and she hurried down the road to where she’d heard the thud.

It didn’t take much investigating to figure out what had happened: there was a broken fence, splintered and thrown wildly around the area after her apparent impact with it, and a frayed rope on the ground. And a sign that said “fence broken”. Helpful.

Zelda glanced back at the goat, unmoved by anything that had just occurred. It was meandering through the road, boredly exploring an area that it didn’t seem interested in. Perhaps the trees felt familiar to it.

Zelda groaned and took a picture of the fence before trying to get the internet on her phone so she could look up the local police number to report that she’d damaged property.

No internet connection.

“Great,” she muttered, turning to take a picture of the goat before it could move. Then, she headed back to her car, just to make sure there was no innocent animal underneath. She flipped the flashlight on and ducked down.

Zelda groaned, but not because there was a dead animal. No, it wasn’t an animal that was dead; it was her tire. There was a giant piece of the broken fence impaled into the rubber, and thanks to her rolling a few feet away, it was in there good.

“Of course. Of course!” Zelda yelled into the abyss, not even earning a curious glance from the goat.

Grabbing her phone, she was blinded by the light she’d left on and turned it around so she could look up the tow company immediately but was met by the same message. No internet connection.

Rolling her eyes, she scrolled to Midna’s name and pressed call.

Silence. Not even ringing.

Zelda checked the corner of the screen, struck first by her red battery life, and second by the device bars desperately looking for a connection.

“I was just talking to them!” she yelled at the phone, as if it cared that she’d had service moments ago. It gave her the urge to throw the phone, but she wasn’t that angry yet.

Instead, she turned her camera on, took a picture of her impaled tire in case the insurance company would need it, and then took several pictures of the goat just for fun, praying that it didn’t charge at her or whatever goats did.

She continued observing the goat without anything else to do until a car headed down the road. She stood and began to wave her arms wildly, but the car drove right past her.

“Jerk,” she muttered, pushing her hair back and returning to sit. But it wasn’t long until a pickup truck slowed down before she could even get back out of the car. She breathed a sigh of relief when they stopped and rolled down the window.

“Everything alright, Miss?”

“Not really,” she sighed, looking at her car sympathetically. She gestured to her tire.

“Got a spare? I got a jack if you need it.”

His voice was accented with the local dialect, which made her feel a little at ease. At least this was someone who’s likely be familiar with the area and could tell her how far away she was.

She had to admit, she’d spoken to one of her coworkers on the phone and had also become enamored with her accent, though it wasn’t from around here either. Zelda had a feeling she was just a sucker for anything that wasn’t the harsh poshness of the Castle Town accent, where every letter pronounced, every syllable attempting to be heard. It was a hard accent, and a cold one. The ones around here was warm and inviting.

Of course, it would make her stick out anytime she opened her mouth, which she didn’t really want.

Castle Town was posh, for sure. A town for the rich and the well-off, or those in school or at work. So Zelda knew a thing or two about stranger danger, and the deeply rooted nerves she felt when she saw the man unbuckle his seatbelt from her peripheral vision bubbled up. She had an escape route planned: toward the broken fence. She wasn’t being kidnapped on her first day in town. But he didn’t get out. He just leaned across the seat to the open window.

Finally, she looked at him, and her breath caught. Well, he certainty matched his voice. Something tired and alert all at once. His blonde hair was long and tied back into a ponytail, falling out in the front so his bangs messily framed his face, bringing her attention to his piercing blue eyes.

Oh yeah, this was the kind of guy they warned you about in Castle Town. Too pretty for their own good. She’d have talked to him in a crowded bar for sure. But out here…?

She glanced back at her car, breaking her distracted trance, trying to remember what he’d asked. “Oh, uh, no. I took everything out of the car to fit my things. I figured I’d take my chances for not getting a flat, but surprise, surprise, a goat wants me dead.”

“Where you going? I can give you a lift if you want. You can get Daruk out here tomorrow morning to tow it wherever you need to go.”

“Oh,” she breathed. Don’t get into a car with someone you just met unless someone knows who they are or where you’re going. “Yeah, I was actually just going to ask if I could borrow your phone? Mine isn’t getting service. I can just call my tow company that I’m enrolled with.”

He nodded and reached across his passenger seat before handing her a phone out the window. She half expected it to be something old and rustic, like this whole place, but it was new and modern and almost exactly like hers. She’d just assumed the small town didn’t have the newest phones. What a stupid assumption.

“Mind if I just look up their number first?” she asked before randomly clicking around on a strange man’s phone.

“Go for it.”

She did and listened to all the automated options. The man was bobbing his head to some music she couldn’t hear. A car came down the road, stopping and honking, despite the fact that they could clearly go around him.

The man rolled his eyes and backed into the breakdown lane behind Zelda’s car, though she was thankful he still didn’t get out

It was only when Zelda’s eyes widened in either shock or horror at whatever she’d heard over the phone that he leaned his head back out the window curiously.

She walked up to him and handed the phone back. “Thanks.”

“So?”

“Three hours to get out here.” Zelda’s misery was palpable.

“Where are you going, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Some little village called Ordon”

He smirked and leaned back in his seat. “I’m headed there as well. Want a ride? We can get Daruk out here sooner to just tow your car in if he knows he’ll just be headed back into town. It’s not far.”

“Oh, I don’t know… not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t know you.”

He reached his hand out the window. “Link. I live in Ordon. Work too. Nice to meet you”

“Zelda,” she said, taking his hand.

“Here,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing her a business card. “So you don’t think I’m lying. But I do have to get to work at some point, so if you want that ride…”

“I just don’t want you to be a kidnapping murderer and kill me, you know?”

He grinned, suppressing a chuckle.

Zelda crossed her arms. “Don’t laugh at my potential murder.”

Gesturing to his phone still in her hand. “You can keep that with you the whole ride so you can call the cops on me if you think I’m kidnapping you.”

Toying with the phone, she took another look at her car. “Okay. Just let me grab my bag.”

[bisousbucky]

Right Kind of Wrong

Pairing: mechanic/biker!Bucky X Reader

Summary: your car breaks down and you take it to your local shop.

Warnings: I imagine Bucky is too hot to handle with tattoos AND piercings! Dirty thoughts.

A/n: this is for the @the-ss-horniest-book-club 🥰

Your car was towed to the local repair shop, Barnes and Wilson Repairs. A shop you've never heard of before, but the guy towing your car insisted they were the best in town.

The owners of the shop seemed arrogant, but there was one guy who caught your eye almost immediately; he was tall and mysterious, his shaggy hair pulled back into a low bun that rested in the nape of his neck, a white dirty greased up tank top, black jeans with matching black boots, a white rag hanging out of his back pocket.

His left arm had a full sleeve that seemed to run over his chest and up his neck. With a few little tattoos scattered over his right arm too. He was gorgeous, but very cocky.

He had a couple of piercings which made him 100x hotter than he already was. He was your dream boyfriend.

Oh, you were he was packing a lot of meat below his waist.

Did I mention he had the brightest baby blue eyes you've ever seen?

A fucking dream.

"It'll take me a few days to get it fixed." The sex god spoke, running his greasy fingers through his hairy beard that you wouldn't mind feeling someplace else.

"Ma'am?" He clicked his fingers in your face and you snapped out of your porno.

"Yes? Oh! Yes. Okay! Take all the time you need." Your smile reached your eyes and Bucky couldn't help but mimic you.

"Thanks. Leave me your number and I'll give you a call when she's ready to be picked up."

Can I give you my vagina instead?

"Alright." You answered instead. You jotted down your number and the smile never left your face. You're pretty sure you were looking rather creepy by now.

Your heart sunk though, a gorgeous man like him would never be interested right? Right.

Except when you left his shop, Bucky couldn't stop thinking about you.

You were the cutest he's ever seen. A person like you would never be interested in a man like him right? Right.

Both of you were wrong.

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Fake FBI Agents? Sam x Reader  (With lots of Dean)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I am alive but I’ve been hella busy with work, as some of you know. And then, I got my second COVID shot and had a BAD reaction to it so I’m trying to recover.

This story is based off my real job working for at my local police department, which I’ll be celebrating 6 months at this month! I thought it would be funny if I could tell that Sam and Dean were fake FBI agents based off looking at their badges because I do see and interact with real FBI agents occasionally. 

I also met a Texas Ranger not too long ago and even though he was *much* older than me, he was *very* attractive. Not like Jared’s Cordell Walker but still. 

Hope everyone enjoys this and all feedback is welcome!

Warnings: FLUFF, series level violence, angst, pining, blood, serious injuries, series level monsters, lots of pain but the fluff makes up for it.

Word Count: 5, 981

Masterlist of all Masterlists| Supernatural Masterlist

Working for a police department was quite a unique experience. On a daily basis, you got to see the worst in people. From assaults to thefts, stolen vehicles, and homicides, there was never a dull moment when you had to work to help the public. Even with not being on the emergency side of the police department, you were still helping people and were trying to solve all their problems when they couldn’t seem to handle them on their own. Growing up, wanting to help people was always a priority for you but you never thought that would be fulfilled working in law enforcement. Sure, there were times when it would get super overwhelming with the constant phone calls and reports you would have to take over the phone and/or in person, and if you were left on a shift alone, it was that much more challenging. But ultimately, you did enjoy what you did because you felt as though you were being an important part of your community, whether you were acknowledged for it or not. And, who wouldn’t want to look at those cute police officers all day long? Just a small amount of time spent chit-chatting with them as you handed them over the keys to their vehicles for their shifts, still seemed cool. Who doesn’t appreciate a man in uniform? One night, as you were working alone, you had two, albeit very attractive men, come into the lobby of the department and came to the window to speak with you. 

“Hi, how can I help y’all?” You ask, looking to the shorter of the two men. 

“Yeah, we’re here about a case. I’m Agent Tyler, this is my partner Agent Perry, with the FBI.” The man said, as he pulled out his FBI badge, his partner followed his lead.

You stood from your desk to walk over to the window to see their badges, and upon closer inspection, you discovered they were fake. Immediately, you started laughing, causing the two men to just stare at you with a shared look of confusion. 

“What’s so funny ma’am?” The taller of the two asked. 

“Y’all aren’t from the FBI,” You said, laughing harder as your sides began to hurt. 

“Um, yeah, we are, didn’t you see our badges?” Agent “Tyler,” said to you, flashing his badge again. 

“Yes, I saw your fake FBI badges,” you said, eyeing the men suspiciously. 

“How did you know?” Agent “Perry,” asked. 

“Because this is a police department. We have a local FBI office and I have dealt with them several times since I’ve worked here. We’re trained to spot real and fakes badges and from my training, these two are definitely fake,” you said, smirking smugly. 

“Damn, she’s good, Sammy,” the shorter one said. 

“So, what do you two really want?” You ask, cocking your eyebrow up to further question the men. 

“Okay, here’s the truth. I’m Sam, this here’s my brother Dean, we’re in town to investigate a string of disappearances that have been going on over the past week-and-a-half. Do you know anything about them?”  The taller one, Sam, said to you, giving a sad, puppy-dog look as he spoke. 

“Of course I do. Police department remember? I can’t begin to tell y’all how many missing person reports our agency has been taking during that time. At least close to thirty and that’s a huge number for a town of about 100,000 people,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Well, what’s been reported?” The shorter one, Dean, asked. 

“I can’t share that information with you but what I can do is call over to dispatch and see if they can send an officer up here to speak with y’all?” 

“Okay, that’d be great,”  Sam said.

“Alright y’all have a seat and I’ll see about getting an officer over here to help y’all out,” you say, turning around to head back to your desk. 

The two men sat in chairs beside one another as you called over to dispatch to set up an officer to come speak to the guys. 

“Well, officers are currently 10-6 (busy) so it may be a while before they’re able to get out there,” the dispatcher informs you. 

“Okay, I’ll let them know, thanks. Sam, Dean?” You call to the guys as both their heads turn to look at you. “All our officers are busy with other calls at the moment but someone should be up here soon to speak to you,” 

“Great, thanks a lot sweetheart,” Dean said, winking at you but you just ignore him. 

Almost an hour later, an officer was dispatched and on his way to speak to the men, much to their happiness. 

“Hey, sorry for keeping y’all waiting, I’m officer King, how can I help y’all?” The officer said, shaking hands with both Sam and Dean. 

“Well first of all you should give that young lady behind that desk there a raise because she’s doing a wonderful job,” Dean stated, shooting another wink in your direction. Officer King just laughs as Sam groans beside Dean and takes over-explaining. 

“We work for a podcast that reports unsolved cases and we just wanted to see if you had any information you could give us,” Sam explained. 

“Sure, why don’t y’all come back to my office and we can discuss this,” Officer King said, nodding to you before he led the men back to his office. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About half an hour later, the boys had come out to the lobby and over to the counter again. 

“What can I do for y’all?” You ask. 

“Well, we just wanted to thank you for your help but also wanted to ask if you wanted to be included in this story because we heard your sister was reported missing?” Sam asked. 

“Um, yeah, yeah she was. But no, I don’t mind talking about it, if y’all think you might be able to help,” you say. “I don’t get off until 11 tonight but I’m off tomorrow so I can meet y’all somewhere then and we can go over this.” 

“Great. Where can we meet you?” Dean asked. 

“Why not right back here say 10 am?” You suggested, not confident in trusting them to meet you anywhere else. 

“Easy enough. See you tomorrow,” Dean said, shooting a quick wink your way before Sam just smiled and nodded to you. 

The rest of the shift went by without too much excitement going on from your side of the screen, but the officers you could see from the call screen, they were dealing with quite a bit of incidents around town.

That night, you kept to your normal routine of driving home and quickly locking up behind you before you let your dog outside and made a quick meal for dinner as you searched for something to watch on Netflix. Your mind wandered off to the two brothers you met earlier that night. It seemed weird how they came up to the desk and just started asking a lot of questions. Most people have complaints or need to make some form of a report but these two? They were strange, to say the least, but they weren’t too bad to look at, especially Sam. He towed above you from the opposite side of the window and although he couldn’t touch you, he seemed rather intimidating. On the one hand, his eyes were soft but his height and the muscles that protrude from his arms made him a little scary. On the other hand, you thought about what it would be like to have him push you against a wall and have his way with you. You shudder at the thought; you don’t even know the man! I think it’s time for bed. You thought to yourself, trying to wish anyway whatever thoughts you were thinking to yourself but the last thing you thought as you shut your eyes for the night, was the name; Sam. 

The next morning, you woke up and got yourself ready for meeting the brothers. You weren’t sure what exactly to expect but you did know you were looking forward to seeing them again. But it was odd to you; why would two strangers from God knows where come to your small town to investigate a string of disappearances? Who were these brothers? Whatever their story was, you decided to proceed to meet with them cautiously, because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from working for the police department; you can’t trust people’s stories. Gathering your things together, you got in your car and drove back down to the station where you almost immediately saw the two strangers leaning against a beautiful classic car, seemingly waiting for you. You would be lying if you said your heart was beating erratically. Something seemed weird about the brothers so you reached in your bag to secure the small handgun you kept there just in case. 

“Hey guys,” you say, letting go of the gun but remembering it was still there. 

“Hey,” Sam said, giving you a tight smile.

“Okay, so what do y’all wanna know?” You ask, looking between the brothers who just share a glance. 

“Well, why don’t you start with your name?” Dean said. 

“Oh, right, I’m (y/n). Nice meeting y’all properly,” You say.

“You too, (Y/N). How long have you been working for the police department?” Sam questioned. 

“Just about a year now,” you state, walking over to a picnic table and throwing your legs under the table, the brothers sitting opposite of you. 

“Have you ever seen any kind of activity like this before? This many disappearances?” 

“No, never. We’ve had a few years where it was close to this but this year is on a completely different level. Our officers have never seen this kind of activity either, nor the detectives. Even those who’ve worked for the department the longest said they’ve never encountered an invisible monster on this large a scale in a long time,” you say, not believing the recent incidents that had been happening in your jurisdiction. 

“Is there anything these cases have  in common?” Dean asks.

“Not that I’ve seen but you should definitely talk to detectives because they know more about that kind of thing than I do.”

“How about the families of the victims? Anything seem similar to you?” 

“You know, there is something similar with the victims’ families. They all come from upper-class backgrounds. We have two wealthier neighborhoods in town and all the victims are living in those neighborhoods,” you say. 

“That’s interesting. Any reason that may be?” Dean said to Sam like he would know the answer. 

“Not really but I do have some ideas of what this might be,” Sam said.

“What do you mean you might know what this is? Y’all aren’t even from here nor have even seen the reports!”

“Should we tell her?” Sam asked. 

“I think we can trust her plus with the way you’ve been looking at her, I think she should know,” Dean said, causing his brother’s cheeks to turn red. 

“Tell me what? How has Sam been looking at me?” You asked, not sure which was more important right now. 

“We’re hunters and we don’t mean animals. We hunt monsters, like the ones you hear about in books or on TV. They’re real; all of them. And we hunt them, kill them, to protect the country,”

 Sam explained like it was the easiest explanation for anyone to hear in the world. 

“What? Monsters? Like made-up monsters? Like werewolves? Vampires? Ghosts? Those are real?” You ask.

“Every one of them. Plus so many others and we kill them. They attack humans, we kill them,” Dean said, with the most serious expressions you’ve ever seen. 

“Wha-why are you telling me this? I-I don’t understand, monsters. They’re real? And y’all hunt them, kill them, to protect people?” You ask, repeating the info the brothers just told you. 

“Yes and we think there might be one of those monsters here in town that could be causing this many disappearances,” Sam added. 

“Why did y’all ask me about this? Why not anyone else? This-this is a lot,” You say.

“Because you were the only one willing to talk to us about this. No one else said anything about the disappearances.” Dean said. 

You just looked between the two brothers, nothing spoken, but you nodded and agreed to help in any way you could.

“So you said you may know what this is? What do you think it is?” You asked, looking to Sam, who slowly made eye contact with you. 

“Sounds like sirens,” Sam said.

“What are sirens?” You ask, never hearing of that kind of monster before. 

“They’re creatures with the ability to change its appearance, kind of like a shapeshifter, but these guys get into people’s heads and make them think they’re the ‘perfect person for them. It makes me think that sirens have been luring people out of the town as if they were promising people in town something they’ve always wanted but never had. It would explain all the disappearances,” Sam explained. 

“What do they look like so we have an idea of what to look for?” You ask.

“Well that’s just it, kid, you can’t tell what they look like unless you cast their reflection onto a mirror. They typically look like whoever they take the form of but when you see them through a mirror, they have like blackened eyes, like a demon, but a mouth that looks like it’s stitched shut,” Dean answers you, slightly scaring you.

“Y’all don’t need me to help out with this, do you? Like, go with you on the hunt? Cause I really don’t think I should be there,” You say, your stomach-churning as the thought of these creatures plague your mind. 

“No sweetheart, you’ve done more than enough to help us with this case. You gave us a lot of useful information that we’ll need to locate these predators. All you need to worry about is keeping your pretty little self safe at home,” Dean said, winking at you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the boys were preparing to go out on their hunt, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixated on Sam. He was still doing some research, he said he wanted to get some last-minute information on the town you lived in and the kind of people he would have to encounter who the Sirens had “possessed,” yet something about the way he focused, was captivating all your attention. 

“Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class (y/l/n)?” He asked in a teasing voice, breaking you from the concentration you held.

“I’ve never seen anyone research like you do. You’re very dedicated to your work and it shows. Plus, you get a very serious look on your face, and your eyebrows kind of scrunch together when you’re really concentrating; it’s rather cute,” you say, and although you weren't so sure how he’d react, the light pink color that begun to spread over his tanned cheeks gave you all the answers you needed. 

“Well, I can’t say I ever heard that one before and most people don’t use “cute” as a means to describe me, but I find it flattering, so thank you,” he says, giving you a shy smile.

“I take it that not very many people compliment you,” you state. 

“If people get compliment me, it’s because of my hunting skills or some information I found ended up being useful or I saved someone’s life, but the way I look as I concentrate on my work and definitely because I’m ‘cute,’ yeah I don’t hear that often,” he shakes his head but with a giant smile plastered across his face. 

“Hey, you have dimples, those are cute too,” you compliment him again, causing the shade of red on his cheeks to darken. “And by that reaction, I’m guessing a lot of people don’t compliment you on your dimples either, do they?” 

“Actually that one I hear all the time, but it’s still sweet of you to say, so thank you,” he says, smiling down at you. 

“Well I think that’s about enough chick-flick moments I can handle for one day,” Dean said, suddenly appearing in the doorway to the library, surprising you and Sam. “You ready Sammy?” He asks his younger brother who quickly clears his throat and gets up, shutting his laptop and throwing it in a backpack. 

“Yep, all set,” he says. 

“Okay (y/n) so you gonna be okay just laying low for a little bit while we go gank these sons of bitches?” Dean asks. 

“Yeah, I have a hot date with Netflix, popcorn, and comfy pillows and PJs for the night. I’ll be good,” you say.

“Well if you need anything, we left our numbers down here for you and we’ll come back and let you know what our outcome was since this is your town and you helped give us information on this case,” Dean said, giving you a slip of paper before he climbs behind the wheel of his sleek black classic car. 

Sam, who remained standing in front of you for a minute, waited until the door slammed shut before he spoke up. 

“As Dean said, if anything happens, just, don’t hesitate to call and we’ll be there. I uh, would hate to see something happen to you,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Is Sam Winchester paying me a compliment now? From what I’ve heard, that’s not common for you,” you said. 

“What you heard?” He asks, worry filling his tone. “Who-who did you talk to?” 

“No one silly but you don’t think I didn’t research y’all when you came to town? Believe it or not, there is a national name file for both of you and I’ve read about a lot of the time officers have been after you. Remember, I work for a police department; I can find out a lot about your demons,” you said, grinning at the man who still stood before you but suddenly seemed a bit smaller at that moment.

“Oh, that’s pretty smart and also kind of scary. Guess we can’t lie to you after all,” he says. 

“Nope, because I always have a way of finding out the truth, plus “poses as fake FBI agents” came up as reasons why police officers need to be careful with you two. Although they haven’t had any run-ins with y’all in a long time,” you add, smirking at the stunned expression on the youngest Winchester’s face. 

“Oh uh, yeah, we’ve been trying not to get into too much trouble lately, well at least not getting arrested,” he says.

“Yeah, I read about the few times that happened,” you add with a wink.

“Okay, so I’m going to go mostly cause I’m a bit scared now but there’s also not the best thoughts going through my head right now, so we’ll talk soon, okay?” He asks and when he sees you nod your understanding, he nods quickly back to you and hurries off to his brother’s car, and climbs into the passenger seat. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                                                           Sam’s POV

“Hey, you okay there, Sammy? I haven’t seen you that uptight about a girl in, well I don’t know long,” Dean says, smirking when he sees whatever look is on my face right now.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” I lie, knowing damn well what he was trying to get out of me. 

“Really? Cause it seemed like (y/n) was getting to you a bit back there,”

“No, she’s, she’s fine,” I say, trying to end this discussion. 

“Yeah, but are you?” He asks. 

“So I’m thinking when we get there, we should go right in, guns blazing and everything. No time to waste today,” I say, hoping desperately Dean would just drop the topic of (y/n) so we could focus on our case, and luckily he did. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with (y/n), quite the opposite actually, and that was the problem. She was so infuriating, knowing that she could find out every little secret Dean and I had in the last, shit I don’t know how many years, and the fact she was so smug about it; who does she think she is?! Is she even allowed to do that? Like can’t employees of the police department get in trouble for looking up information about people? Well, maybe not, because they need to know what kind of people they have to deal with but like I told her before, we can’t hide anything from her! Not that I want to or anything but there are certain parts of this job I don’t think she should have to know about. Then again, we did tell her about what we really do out for a living so I can’t imagine too much more information would be bad for her to know. I just can’t see her knowing every little detail about our lives! I mean, yeah we’ve only known her for a couple of days since we came to town but already I can tell she is so sweet and so pure in certain things. I can’t imagine her reaction to some of the stories we could tell her. Wait am I saying? She works for a freaking police department; she probably hears horror stories on a regular basis! She may be sweet but I bet she’s more tough than she makes people believe.

“Earth to Sammy! Come in Sammy!” Dean says, bringing my attention back to him.

“Huh?” I say, looking at him.

“I said, are you ready? We’re here.” 

I looked around where Baby stopped and saw we were in fact, there.

“Oh, yeah, I’m ready,” I say, opening the door to get out, gun ready at my side. We walked to the house where the last disappearance occurred and slowly made our way inside. The house was a mess,  documents and files thrown across the floor, books and their shelves broken down; it looked like a tornado blew through here. Just as we made our way further in the house, up to the bedrooms, some lady came out of nowhere and tried to stab me but thankfully Dean heard her before I did so he was able to shoot her before she got to me.

“Thanks,” I say before having to turn and fight off another Siren who went for me again, Dean fighting off his own. 

This went on for a while until we figured we killed them all and we could head back to meet with (y/n) until my phone started to ring. 

“Hello?” I ask when I answer the phone.

“Sam?” A small voice asks. 

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” She sounded scared; my senses going into overdrive. 

“I-I need help. I don’t know where I am but...something happened….” She says, sounding like she was crying.

“Okay (y/n) where are you? What do you see around you?” I ask and Dean comes closer to my side. 

“Um, it’s dark and I can’t see too much. I-I’m sorry,” she says, crying again.

“Hey, no, don’t you apologize. You did nothing wrong. What do you remember?” 

“Um, I was just sitting in the apartment living as I told you I was going to do and then someone got inside and then I blacked out and when I woke up, I was here. I-I think I’m tied up and I’m in a lot of pain. I-I don’t know what happened Sam but I’m scared,” she sounds so helpless at this point. 

“Hey, baby, listen to me alright, you’re going to be okay, okay? Dean and I are going to come to find you and we’re going to fix you up well, I promise,” I say, trying to calm her down. I know she’s scared but I hope I can settle her down a bit. 

“Okay and Sam, hurry, please?” She asks, more desperate than before. 

“We will, we’re on our way now. I’m going to stay on the phone with you so we can try to see if we can tell where you’re at okay?” I look to Dean who immediately takes my silent signal and rushes out the door and right out to the car. We jump in and race to figure out where (y/n) may be. I can hear (y/n)’s breathing get quieter and I’m afraid if she falls asleep, she won’t wake up.

“(y/n) can you hear me? Hey, I need you to talk to me, okay? I need you to keep talking,” I say as I keep trying to hear for any background noise to see if we could tell where she was. 

“I really don’t have anything to say,” she says, her voice fragile.

“You never told me, why you chose to work for the police department,” I say, trying to see if that would get her talking. 

“Well I needed a-another job and-a job as a-dispatcher came out so I-went to apply-and I-I ended up-getting that job-but with m-my training it-it became too-too hard so I transferred-to where I am n-now.” 

“That’s good,” I say, smiling at her, even though I knew she couldn’t see it.

“Yeah I-I also wanted t-to help people,” she adds. 

“I bet, you’re so good at helping people and I’m so proud of you,” I say, trying my hardest not to get upset myself. I can’t say for certain what I feel right now for (y/n) but I do know I care about her and I told her, I would hate it if anything happened to her and I don’t take that lightly. 

“Sam, it-it hurts,” she says, and my heart breaks a little more when I hear just how uncomfortable she is. 

“I know baby, but it’ll be over soon; I promise,” 

“S-Sam?” She asks. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why-why do you keep calling m-me baby?” Damn, she may be in agony but she still picked up on that. 

“You’ve caught that huh? Well, you are my baby,” I admit. 

“But wouldn’t that mean I-I’m your girl?” 

“You are my girl.” 

“But we-we aren’t dating!”

“I know, but I want to change that,” I say.

“Really? You-you want to d-date me?” I can hear the tiniest bit of hope arise in her tone so I continue to talk about it. 

“Of course I do! Ever since we met, I was immediately attracted to you. I thought you were so beautiful and you had a bit of an attitude too. But I thought it was cute. And then you have a bit of an accent and whenever you say y’all, you sound like a true Texas girl and it makes me smile. I know you said at one point, you weren’t from here longer than 6 years but you seem to be a Texan to me and it’s very attractive. I want to take you out and get to know you better; you have no idea how much I wish I could be there to hold you right now,” I exhale, everything finally coming out about how I was feeling. The line remained silent and I began to panic until I heard, 

“I feel the same about you, Sam,” she said, clear as day. 

“Well, why don’t you keep fighting to stay alive so I can take you on that date and give you all the hugs and cuddles you deserve?” 

“That sounds great,” she said before a blood-curdling scream pierced my eardrums. 

“(Y/N)?!” And with that, the line dropped. “Dean, we have to find her!” I grow weary as I feel the acceleration of Baby set forth by Dean. I tried to track whatever phone (y/n) had called from and was able to find out the last known location.

“Okay so the phone is pinging from up the road about two miles; she can’t be too far away,” I tell Dean, more determined than ever to find her. 

“We’ll find her Sammy; I know we will.” Dean tries his hardest to help ease my worries but the sound of her scream is taunting me. 

When we got to the location the phone was pinging from, there wasn’t much but an old house that appeared to have been partially burned down a few years ago. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to use this house as any means of suspicious activities but I can’t understand people. I jump out of the car and rush inside, holding my gun out in front of me, ready to shoot anyone who crosses my path. 

“(Y/N)?!” I yell out when I’m inside the house, Dean close behind me. 

“Sam!” I hear a voice yell back at me and I rush towards where the voice was coming from. 

“Dean!” I yell, as I’m almost attacked by a Siren but Dean shoots it before it gets to me. 

“Go find her, Sam, I got this,” Dean says and I rush off to find (Y/N).

“(Y/N)?” I call out again and am met with her reply, sounding a lot closer. When I turn the corner into another room, I see her tied to a table, in nothing but her bra and underwear, and blood dripping down from her abdomen. I rush over to her and immediately start untying her restraints. 

“Sam?” A small voice squeaks out and two big (y/e/c) eyes land on me. 

“Hey pretty girl, you got some pretty nasty injuries here. I’m going to get you untied and I’ll take you back to your place and fix you up, okay?” I say as calmly as I can. I know she’s very fragile, just like she was on the phone, but I work diligently to set her free. Once I get the last restraint undone, I slowly and cautiously lift her under her arms and legs and carry her bridal out of the house and out to the car. She groans when I gently place her in the back seat but before I could walk away, she grabs my hand. 

“Will you stay back here with me, please?” Well, how was I going to say no to that?

“Of course pretty girl,” I say, climbing in and sitting beside. I lay her head on my lap, stroking her hair and having her hold a towel on her stomach. 

“So I’m a pretty girl now, huh?” She asks, looking up at me. I smile down at her, blushing just a bit at her comment.

“Well I thought baby was a little too romantic right now and since we haven’t even gone on a date yet, I figured pretty girl had just enough effectiveness but not too much into the romantic side of things,” I explain.

“I like these nicknames you’re using for me; they’re sweet,” she says.

“I’m surprised you’re even able to pay attention to what I’m calling you or not in your state right now,” I say.

“Hey, just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate when a very attractive man compliments me. Hell, if I had more strength, I’d probably kiss you right now.” 

“I can help with that,” I say, gently tilting her head a bit further back so I could easily kiss her. And I did but I held back a bit for fear I would hurt her more. So I left a small yet powerful, I’d hope, kiss on her lips, with a small taste of blood behind it. I looked up to see Dean grin at us through the rearview mirror, ignoring whatever he was hinting at, but I couldn’t help the small smile that played on my lips. 

We decline to take (Y/N) back to her house for fear something like this would happen to her again. She put up no fight, not that she really could if she wanted to, but I felt better about it because now, I wasn’t going to let her out of my sight. Because last time I did that, she ended up hurt, and it was my fault because I left her alone. 

Back in the room, I give up my bed as Dean helps me lower her so we could get a good look at her. The shirt she was wearing had a rather large stain of blood on one side so the only way to get to the injury was to cut the fabric away from her. I grab a pair of scissors and right before I begin to cut, I hear her cry out,

“No Sam, it-it hurts!” She says as she wiggles around on the bed, trying to escape the pain. 

“I know pretty girl, but you need to trust me. We have to cut this shirt off because your injury is too severe; it’ll hurt worse if we don’t cut it, okay?” 

She nods her head and I take her hand in mine, as I give the scissors to Dean, who slowly begins to cut her shirt, careful around her injury, and I can tell just by the look on her face, she is in a lot of pain. There’s nothing I would rather do than switch places with her but that is not possible. So I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it tenderly, reassuring her that I would never leave her.

“Alright Sam, we’re going to have to disinfect this and stitch her up,” Dean says, giving me a somber expression. 

“Yeah, okay,” I said, nodding to him.

“Will you hold her down? It’s going to hurt and I got a towel for her to bite down on,” Dean says.

I look down at the girl lying helplessly beside me and she looks so sad and afraid but I knew it had to be done. “It’s going to be okay, baby, I’m going to be right here the whole time,” I say to her as Dean pours some whiskey on the injury. It was a good thing we had that towel because I couldn’t bear to hear the entirety of her screams. Just her muffled cries broke my heart to the point I began to cry with her. She did not deserve this; she did nothing wrong. As quickly as he could, Dean began on the stitches, sowing her up remarkably fast. 

“She’s done,” Dean says. 

“Great,” I say, helping him clean up but a groan from (y/n) stops me. 

“Sam?” She says, sweat glistening her body. 

“I’m right here,” I say, coming back to her side. 

“Lay with me?” I couldn’t say no so I moved the sheets aside and crawled in next to her. 

“Thank you for saving me, Sam,” She whispers after Dean decided to leave the room to get some food and medicine for (y/n). 

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, (y/n).” 

“Do you really like me, more than a friend I mean?” She asks

“I do. In a short amount of time, I’ve grown to care about you and your well-being. I want to do anything to make you happy and to protect you,”

“So does this count as a date then?” She asks, in all seriousness, and I just laugh.

“Oh no sweetheart, I will go all out for a date with you. Nothing is too much for my girl unless you say so. And I don’t see either one of us being hurt,” I say. 

We both laugh until (y/n) begins to groan again. “No, it hurts to laugh,” she says, as we both still laugh.

“Stop making me laugh,” She whines. 

“I can’t help it, sweet girl, I love the sound of your laugh,” I say, leaning down to kiss her temple. 

“Well I can’t wait until you can kiss me properly,” she says. 

“Believe me, pretty girl, it’s all I think about but until then, you get better, then I’ll kiss you like you deserve to be kissed.” 

“Well then, I can’t wait.” 

Taglist: @tloveswriting @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2 @angeredcrow @spnjediavenger @440mxs-wife @fandom-princess-forevermore @sam-winchester-admiration-league @thwiso @lyarr24 @grace15ella @deansmyapplepie @akshi8278 @baby1967impala @suckmysupernatural @slutforfics

[ptersparkers]

who is harley maybank?

summary: harley maybank, born harley summers, finds her quiet life in a small californian town turned upside down when she realizes she has two long lost older brothers. as told from the perspective of harley. 

warnings: typos, probably.

notes: this is a side project. i was messing around with ideas for season two and then thought....what if we got to know more about jj’s backstory and what if i wrote about it? this won’t necessarily follow the obx tmieline -- i’m borrowing characters but that’s pretty much it. jj’s 18 in this story. he will make an appearance. 

this is a limited series. 

WHO IS HARLEY MAYBANK? 

WHO IS JESSE MAYBANK? 

Harley Maybank never quite fit in just right.

Some might’ve said she was a carefree spirit who jumped from person to person, yearning to experience a life different than her own. Some might’ve said she was too reckless and wore her heart on her sleeve, ready for it to be broken over and over again before she learned how to rebuild herself.

It always caught her off guard to know that people her age wanted to settle down in the small town they grew up in, never having the desire to explore beyond the city lines. Harley always felt like she was living her life on the edge of her seat, constantly pulling herself back from the cliff’s edge before jumping too quickly. Perhaps that was what made people so drawn to Harley; her effervescent personality combined with the motivation to leave the quiet town that never satisfied her hunger for knowledge.

People were quick to make judgements about people who knew the future they wanted and Harley was no exception. She was young, perhaps too young, to know what she wanted out of life but the first step in discovering what that is was leaving the town of Mill Valley, California, and exploring different corners of the world before deciding which life for her. Harley was reckless with her feelings, pushing her heart to the limit and latching onto the feeling of the light on her face so she could taste the freedom of leaving.

The residents of Mill Valley would argue everyone who grew up there knew each other by first and last name, and knew everyone in town. From kindergarten to the local community college, the tight knit community prided themselves in being sheltered in their safe haven that never seemed to welcome nor encourage locals to leave. In summary, everybody knew each other.

But nobody, including Harley, really knew who she was.

Up until a month ago, Harley was born to a single mother and never knew who her biological father was. She could always tell she was the odd one out as it didn’t take her long to realize her friends had a matching set of parents and Harley could feel the distance between her life and everyone else’s when she’d come to arrive at sleepovers with only her mother in tow.

Marisol Summers was strong-willed, willing to sacrifice her livelihood for Harley without thinking twice. The woman raised Harley with nothing but her wits and morals, teaching the young girl about independence and that womanhood is whatever she wanted it to be. The small suburban town that never seemed to be home was home when Harley and Marisol were together, laughing at television ads and watching films late into the night.

From a young age, young Harley had a future brighter than anyone who grew up in Mill Valley. She was always eager to step off of the curb despite her mother’s warnings and color the white walls of her elementary school’s classroom, much to the dismay of her teachers. Marisol could recall all of the parent-teacher meetings but always stood by Harley’s eagerness to be challenged intellectually. 

The teenage girl never felt like she had a core group of friends she could rely on to embark on late night adventures of spontaneous trips to the beach. She was a free-floater, drifting between people, befriending anyone who’d befriend her. Harley wasn’t afraid to strike up a conversation with strangers in the supermarket checkout line or help lost tourists who were passing through. The girl was a light in the darkest tunnel and everyone could see it. Everyone except for Harley. 

The rambunctious teenager sought more from life than meek conversations with people she’d never dream of being around. Her passions and interests were vast and numerous, unlike her peers who seemed interested in marijuana and alcohol. Harley’s love for life exceeded her love for the town she grew up in, which would always be part of her, but not who she would grow to be.

But her world was turned upside down when her mother sat her down when she came home from school one afternoon. Marisol, with an expression Harley couldn’t quite make out, asked her to sit on the stool of the kitchen’s island and to not interrupt as she spoke.

“You have a brother,” Marisol spoke, finally. She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist and avoided Harley’s gaze. “He called me about a month ago.”

“You have a son?” Harley asked in confusion. Marisol shook her head.

“No,” she said quickly. “Your biological father, Luke, and I met on that island in North Carolina about a year before I had you.” Harley nodded, already having known this about Marisol. “You know how I was back then. Young, careless, not ready to have a child.” Marisol cupped Harley’s cheek in her hand. “But happy you came nonetheless.

“What I didn’t know was he had a son when he was much younger,” she explained. “Seventeen, or so. The mother left him and took their son to Sweden where he was raised until moving to New York a while ago. She passed away recently and the details are hazy, but his name’s Jesse and he’d like to get to know you.”

Harley sat in silence for what seemed like a century, processing the influx of information that surprised her to no end. Her entire life was built around the closeness of family, despite having only her mother and a few aunts, uncles, and grandparents from her mother’s side she didn’t see very often. The prospect of getting to know a side of her family, her father’s side, after being in the dark for sixteen years was both exciting and horrifying.

Beads of sweat decorated her forehead and she wiped them away hastily. Her jacket felt too heavy and she took it off, setting it aside haphazardly on the counter. Marisol looked at her daughter with an unreadable expression, which made Harley uneasy.

“I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to,” she said. “But from what I could tell, he sounds legitimate. Told me about the Outer Banks and everything I could remember seventeen years ago.”

“Do you know anything more about this ‘Jesse’ guy?” Harley asked.

“He was born in North Carolina before moving to Sweden when he was two years old,” she explained. “He lived there before moving to England for college, then New York for work. From what I can tell, he’s pretty established with his own venture capitalist firm in the States. I did some digging after he called me and he’s pretty legitimate.”

“Jeez,” Harley said. “How old is this guy?”

“In his thirties,” said Marisol. “The reason why he knows we exist is because of a friend of his mother’s who kept tabs on your father up until his mother’s death.”

“Sweden, huh?” Harley asked rhetorically. “He sounds like he lived a pretty good life.”

Marisol chuckled. “Yeah, but I can only imagine how hard it fell when he realized he had a younger sister.”

Harley was quiet. The sound of the clock ticking was apparent and signified how long she’d been thinking about her family, the side she never knew, and all the things she would’ve said to her father if she knew who he was. What would he be like? Was he still alive? Does he have his own family now, and if so, what were they like? Were they still living in the Outer Banks?

“It’s kind of scary, isn’t it?” Harley asked.

“A little,” Marisol confessed. “I was a bit skeptical at first but he explained his knowledge of the Outer Banks and, honey, he sounded desperate for him to believe me.”

“Do you?”

“I’m sure of it. I don’t think he’d oppose a DNA test either.”

“Do you think I should talk to him?”

“Only if you want,” Marisol said. She handed Harley a piece of scrap paper with a phone number on it. “That’s his number, Harls. Jesse said to give him a call, day or night, and to take your time.”

“But you admit that everything about this sounds weird, right?” Harley asked. Marisol nodded slowly. 

“Oh, definitely,” she said. “It’s weird if a random guy calls you and says he wants to get to know your sixteen-year-old daughter, but I did some digging on my own and was able to connect with Grace, someone who knows my family and Jesse’s.” 

“And?” 

“And what he said checked out,” she explained. “Apparently, Grace kept tabs on Luke after Jesse’s mother left him, and there are more details about financial compensation that I can’t wrap my head around, but she found out about you when you were young.”

“This Grace person isn’t messing around, is she?” 

“From what I know, Jesse comes from an important family in Sweden, the Nystroms. His mother was heir to a Swedish textiles company and it was scandalous news when she ran away to North Carolina to be with Luke.” Marisol stood momentarily to reach for a glass of water before sitting down once again.

“And Grace?” 

“I spoke with her too,” Marisol replied. “I got to know her because I wanted to know this wasn’t a scam.”

“Imagine that,” Harley mumbled, rolling her eyes.

“Grace is from another prominent family in Sweden and has been family-friends with the Nystroms since the dawn of their business partnership, I think,” said Marisol. “From what I understand, the Nystroms had asked Grace’s family to keep tabs on Luke as a favor, which is why Grace found out about you.”

“Why didn’t they want to reach out to us?” Harley asked, heart dropping. 

“You know how the rich are,” Marisol replied with a pitiful laugh. “It wouldn’t look good for their image if people knew the heir to a multibillion-dollar company eloped with a small town American to North Carolina. Truthfully, I don’t think there’s much either of them could’ve done.” Marisol paused to collect her thoughts before speaking. “I spent so much time looking for Luke and trying to put the pieces together with no luck and then Grace calls me to tell me Luke’s last name is Maybank.” 

Maybank.

For sixteen years, Harley had known the truth about her father and Marisol’s escapades that transitioned her from a careless post-undergraduate student to a responsible mother. Their bond was held together by the fundamental truth regarding the mystery about who her biological father was, and for the longest time, Harley felt incomplete not knowing her last name. As far as she knew, she was Harley Summers from California. But her biological name was Harley Maybank.

Her mind was racing and she couldn’t seem to focus on one thing or another. Her name, the only aspect about her that she knew was her identity, wasn’t what she thought it was. The surname carried a burden on her shoulders; she had longed to know her biological father’s side of the family and spent the majority of her life fantasizing about the first words she would hear him say. But Harley never seriously thought that she’d ever know who she was or where she came from and the notion that her mother spoke to Harley’s biological brother was making her mind race as if a speeding car couldn’t stop for a red light. 

“Maybank,” Harley muttered. “That’s a little weird.” 

“Isn’t it?” Marisol asked. Harley let out a confused laugh. 

“I mean, I’ve gone by Harley Summers my entire life and I didn’t think I’d ever learn my father’s last name. It’s a little comforting and horrifying at the same time.” 

“I bet,” Marisol replied. “I mean, I’ve had a month to think about this. I genuinely thought it was a scam or a prank call until Jesse was able to send documents about Luke’s whereabouts until the night I met him.” 

“Wow,” Harley said, widening her eyes. “Grace and her family kept that much information?” 

“I suppose it was important,” Marisol said with a shrug. “Grace didn’t say, but I’m almost positive the Nystroms paid Luke for his silence. Jesse’s mother spent two years in North Carolina and it’s hard to keep who you are a secret for that long.” 

“Still,” Harley said, sighing dramatically, “In my lifetime, I never thought I’d be wrapped up in a conspiracy.” 

“I’m pretty sure Grace was hinting at the fact that the Nystroms would’ve been scared if the public knew about your existence too,” Marisol added. “While you probably wouldn’t have inherited their fortune since you’re not technically related to the family, I can only imagine how Jesse would’ve behaved if he knew he had a sister. But what do I know, right?” 

“Mom,” Harley said, looking at the older woman. “You’ve always been perceptive and I learned a long time ago that you’re never wrong.” Marisol laughed. “I’m being totally serious. I can’t really wrap my head around this either.” 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Marisol reassured. “Jesse’s an adult and has an established life already. You’re young and barely off to college. I wouldn’t want you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or jeopardize your future. But if it makes you feel better, I trust Jesse. We’ve gotten to know each other through phone calls and emails for the past month.” 

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Harley said cautiously. Marisol's eyes softened and she reached out to cup Harley’s cheek. 

“My baby’s growing up,” she said lovingly. “It’s weird to think I was telling you bedtime stories not too long ago.” 

“Yeah,” Harley replied softly, “those days seem easier in hindsight, doesn’t it?” Marisol nodded and Harley stood from her seat. “Is it okay if I go to my room? I just want to digest this for a while.” 

“Of course,” said Marisol. She pointed at the slip of paper with Jesse’s phone number written on it. “Here’s Jesse’s number in case you feel like calling him but don’t feel like you have to if you don’t want to, okay?” 

“Okay,” Harley said, giving Marisol a quick hug before retreating to her bedroom. 

For three weeks, Harley debated on telling her closest friends about her dilemma and what to do next, but she knew none of them would offer valuable advice nor give her the courage to do what she thought was right. On the third Friday of the month of March, when the weather was warmer than the previous day, Harley took note of the colorful leaves on the trees surrounding her apartment complex and reflected on the idea that the seasons would always change and so would she, but not if she waited for something to happen. Wordlessly, she marched into her bedroom, noticing her mother had yet to come home, and dialed the phone number that sat on her desk untouched, hearing a deep voice answer the phone. 

“Hello?”

***

i included my obx taglist because jj will make an appearance.

***

taglist: 

@jellyfishbeansontoast @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @simpingforrudypankowonly @hi-my-name-is-riley  @antoheartit @runway-to-my-aid @kayleypaige2233 @jroseron @mahleeyuh @decap-quadrant @deviouscharitos @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @wasabiwitteks @waywardbabie @parkerpetertingle @cheshirecat107 @ballerinafairyprincess @underratedmisfit @gardengirl-18 @letsgofullkook @thankfulfortimmy @voguesir @madzleigh01 @suhoey @yeslifeofateen @spn-marvel-nerd @outerbongs @cleverandwitty @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @scottish-sim @lonely--witch @thin-spiration-for-me @britnicole11 @Jessica-1120 @ilovejjmaybank @goodgodimaweirdperson @beckester @louiesfineline @jamielinnsmith @asmallhobbitruinedmylife @whosxthat @ollyoxenfrees @thesadestsadperson @saphira1412 @leilanixx @serpent-baby @a-daydreamers-day @sofianunes10 @sleep-i-ness @shxwarmq @fandomngirl @nightxshadex201 @eternalqueensworld @shreckluver7 @fourfearsofdivergent @stfukie @lauren-sun13 @brithedemonspawn @pogue-h @mfmaddyperez 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@unknown-user84 @jooorrdd @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @unfortunatekiwitrash @celestialmaybank @kayleea122 @mynmuses @trashmouthpogues @natalie-kate-98 @maraudersandco @millssssonline @vaswn @lindysti @casper17 @babyybesson @itsagurl @everyonesababe @kaitieskidmore1 @aesthetic-lyssa @crispywolftreeflower @yesp0ny @broken-jj @beth-winchester21 @diverdcwn @cozyshawn @pcterparxer @comphersjost @bbygrlsyd @lovelynerdytraveler @obbx-tings @m-a-d-e-l-i-n-e-e @curlybrownhairedboys @jjshands @rachelfizzyhizzy @outsider-at-hogwarts @Magcongirl52 @drewsstarkey @chocolaeth @damnobx @hoeforshows @lemur46 @honestlywtfisgoingon @beth-winchester21 @bruhjustdont @iknowwhatihavefound-blog @jillianwritesstories @sleepyhollands @etherealtony @sofianunes10 @slytherinquill @invocacao-dos-unicornios @coloradogirl07 @no-shxt-sherl @maybankobx @jjmaybankg @itsallblueblackwhereimfrom @hookedinto-fictionalworlds @jjbanks @that-one-weird-fangirl2020 @rewindlr @beautyandthebleh @kenziemcnicol @dirtyskittlewater @luvbabyjade @p0gues4l @sunfl0w3rvol6 @theloveofpeterparker @ebonyyyy-e @niagaratears @alilybush @julesclues​ @aleeciamackenzie @outrbanxs @trinnwazheree @fangirlika @hotel-colson​ @talksoprettyjjx @106sami @ohbabycal @takisss @spam-to-follow @toloveortobeinlove @alexis-marrt022 @lovingonshawn @drw0301bieber​ @diverrdown @finelinebitch @amortiff @velvetxvignette @emptycanvasposts​ @kcxxlove @its-fun-to-fantasize-4​ @thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @Sugarglohss @strawberrydonkey @heavenlymama @cxrlyrxe​ @thotbutpurple​ @ibookofstars @kayladownunder @jjaybank @cyrrusmreadings @omigodbeckylookatherbutt @obx-imagines-07 @lussuria-zephyr @yeahilljustgo @morganoddwalker @junisfics @trash-can-kristin @hippyexplosions @June549.  

[sweetchup]

Hot Cocoa Mix

Type: Kurapika x reader

Prompt: Jour de la Lumière givrée (Frosted Light Day) — A popular Winter Holiday commonly celebrated in the Yorbia Continent and the republic of Padokea. On the day of December 16, some people will go shopping for a gift at local shops to give to family members and/or lovers while others will prepare their snowflake lanterns. Such festivities will continue until 11:05 when strings of lights placed around the city or town will light up and people will begin to release their lanterns into the sky; creating a beautiful sea of lights.

Author Note: I hope you guys enjoy! I’m sorry this took so long, for so reason I just forgot how to write Kurapika’s character like it was insane. I had to rewatch the whole Yorknew Arc just to get a single idea.

(Prompts/Rules) (Holiday Masterlist)

The winter wind howled on from outside. Throwing around the snow that was falling from the sky with it, creating a painful whiplash to whoever crossed its path. Though that was the last thing on your mind at the moment for you could not hear the weather outside nor was aware of it as it was being drowned out by the loud chattering of people. Well, more like a swarm of people, who were interacting with each other throughout the tightly packed and crowded mall.

A clear sign that it was now the holiday season. More specifically, That today was officially December 16 and Jour de la Lumière, or Frosted Lights day, was upon you. Due to this many people, including yourself, were trying to buy lanterns or get a gift to give to family members.

“Oh I want this one! And that one as well!” Neon shouts out as she continues to pull out sweaters and throws them onto the pile of clothes in your hands. As people stare on and whisper to each other, quite confused at your strange group, You wondered if Neon truly even knew that she was supposed to be trying to get a gift for her father instead of herself.

“Miss Neon-n, aren’t we supposed to be finding a gift for your father? Eliza asks, worried about your well-being as well as how much the young girl was spending.

“Oh yeah… Well, I’ll just pay for these and then we can go find a gift for daddy.” Neon says happily, as she gives you her credit card and skips away with Eliza following in tow. Before leaving, Eliza gives you an apologetic look but you only shake your head. There was nothing for her to apologize for, it was your job as a bodyguard to take care of tasks such as this one.

Once the girl is reassured, you stagger over to go wait in line while balancing the large pile of clothes in your hands. Thankfully this line wasn’t as long as the other stores you have visited, so you should be able to catch up to the rest of the group rather fast.

As you wait in line, you let out a sigh while you ponder for a little. You wondered why you just felt so odd. Like as if you were kind of sad or…. gloomy? It was Frosted Lights Day, your most favorite times of the year, so there should be no reason for you to be feeling this way.

“Honey, I think you made a perfect lantern,” A young gentleman's voice says, catching your attention. Looking over, you see the man with an arm wrapped around another young woman. They both were in front of a vendor selling Make-your-own lanterns, the lady painting one herself. They must be a couple, you concluded to yourself as you continued to watch them.

The girl giggles happily to her boyfriend.

“You think so? I messed up the snowflake design though…” She admits, rather embarrassed at herself. The boyfriend laughs and kisses the girl’s temple.

“I think it’s perfect! Come on, let’s go pay for it.”

As the two pay for the lantern, you can’t help but realize your heart feels rather heavy now. Was that what was making you feel down? Because you couldn’t celebrate the Holidays with your own boyfriend, Kurapika?

You quickly took your eyes off of the couple, you were being ridiculous. It wasn’t like Kurapika was gone or anything, you would see him tonight like almost every night. You shouldn’t be feeling down just because Kurapika doesn’t celebrate the Holidays. It wasn’t his fault he grew up in a tropical climate and his people do not have winter-esk holidays.

You let out a groan as you start to feel even more gloomy than before. Why did Frosted Lights Day have to be your favorite holiday?

“Miss!” You are startled as you hear a voice yell in front of you, “It’s your turn to pay.”

You gulp, embarrassed you had spaced out and missed the fact the cashier had been calling your name for a while. Giving an apologetic bow, you walk up to her counter.

“S-sorry about that. I was a little spaced out.”

“I could see that.” The cashier mumbles out as she begins to ring up the items. You clearly heard the rude response but chose to ignore it. There wasn’t any point in starting a fight in a clothing store after all.

Originally you were going to go back to observing the area around you but you feel your phone buzz suddenly in your backpocket. Taking it out and opening it up, you see you have a message from Melody.

‘Miss Neon would like to pick up a cake from the bakery. It’s closer to your location do you think you could pick one up?’

Typing back a quick response in confirmation, you quickly put your phone back away and bring your attention back up to the cashier. You didn’t want to come off as rude or impatient for having your phone out after all.

After punching in the credit card when the cashier tells you the amount needed, you take the bags of clothes and leave the store. As you find a map of the mall nearby, you hoped Melody was referring to the cake shop you saw when you entered the mall. If not then you would have to deal with one of Miss Neon’s “episodes” for bringing her the wrong cake.

Swiftly moving around other crowds of people as you get to your destination, you notice something in the corner of your eye. Looking closer you see near another store stood a hunched over elderly lady seeming to have dropped some of her stuff. People walked by her but it seemed none were trying to stop and help her.

Letting out a sigh, disappointed by other people’s selfishness, you quickly make your way over to go help the elderly lady.

“Oh deary, thank you very much. You didn’t have to help little old me.” She tells you as you begin to pick up the dropped items for her.

“It’s not a problem,” You tell her, give her a small smile as you place the items back into the bag. Though as you were picking some of the items up you would pause for a moment to make sure your eyes weren’t tricking you. Some of them were quite peculiar. Usually gifts that were given or treats that were made for Frosted Lights Day were decorated with a winter theme in mind but this lady had more of a spring theme going on. Cookies and pastries decorated with flowers. Bright yellows, greens and orange colored wrapped gifts. It was far from the usual traditional way of doing things.

As if sensing your curiosity the elder in front of you begins to explain,

“Odd choice huh? Well, ever since I was a child I never liked the winter. Especially the cold weather and snow that came with the season. I much, much preferred the spring. The blooms of colors that came with the buds of flowers that grew. The many scents that you could come across. Just everything about spring was so perfect.”

You stopped picking up the last item to look up at the lady. Amazed at how happy and carefree she looked as she explained her love of spring.

“Though, my friends and family loved winter, especially the holidays that came with it. So, I just added my own signature twist to it.”

“As if it’s your own tradition…” You mumble out almost as if you are in like a daze as a thought comes to you. Finally putting the last item away, you hand the bag back to the lady as you stand up, “Thank you, Miss.”

The elderly lady didn’t understand why at first you had thanked her but when she looked at your eyes, without any words, she suddenly understood. When she had first met you, she saw an anxious storm brewing in you, with your eyes dark and a light sheen over them. But now, the storm was gone and your eyes were bright and shined like stars.

“Your welcome.” The elder mumbles out, giving you a small wave as you leave to travel further into the mall.

—.—.—.—.—

Kurapika lets out a heavy sigh as he punches in his floor number and leans against the wall of the elevator. He was utterly exhausted, taking care of the business in the place of Mr Nostrade was really tough. Though, Kurapika knew it would all be worth it.

As the elevator doors open on his floor, he clutches tighter onto the box in his hands. To anyone else walking by the package would look like a gift given for the holidays. But it was anything but that. For a pair of scarlet eyes laid in the box. Kurapika’s recent item he had obtained from his hard work.

As Kurapika continues to walk down the hall, he tries not to allow his anger cloud his judgement. Though he couldn’t help but feel an itching, almost burning, feeling come over his eyes as he recalls the events from earlier today. Those slimy bastards, Kurapika thinks to himself as their laughter and carefree manner echoes throughout his head. How dare they treat these eyes —the eyes of his brethren— as if they were just some sort of item to decorate their shelves. Some sort of useless toy…

“Kurapika,” The soft touch of your hand touching his cheek and your calm voice brings him out of his thoughts. As he slowly comes out of his trance, he realizes he had already gotten back home.

“(Y-y/n)...” Kurapika mumbles out, still slightly dazed. Even though no words are spoken between you two, you can tell what exact “item” was in the box he was holding. Especially at the fact his knuckles were white from clutching it so harshly.

In a slow manner, you lightly lean over and allow your noses to rest against each other. This Eskimo kiss type of act always had a calming effect on Kurapika, “Come downstairs when you are ready, okay?”

With that, you allow Kurapika to make his way upstairs to do his thing. You knew not to interrupt or press into him when it came to something like that.

In the meantime, you decided to finish up the activity you had planned for tonight. You just hoped Kurapika was up for it.

“Ah,” The sudden voice startled you. Turning around, you are surprised that Kurapika is already back down stairs. Usually, it takes him a while to calm himself when he finds a pair of scarlet eyes. Especially if he wants to find a safe place for it, “(y/n), what is all of this?”

A dash of heat comes to your face as you feel yourself slightly become embarrassed.

“W-well it is Frosted Lights Day and I know you never grew up with exactly ‘Winter’ and my holidays. But, I still thought we should celebrate in our own way.” You explain to Kurapika as you watch him make his way to the coffee table and grab the flowers and colorful paints you have placed out.

You can’t help but feel nervous as you wait for Kurapika to respond. Just waiting for a single word, anything at all.

“These are to decorate the lanterns right?” Kurapika mumbles out, breaking the silence as he picks up a white lantern nearby.

“Y-yes. It’s a tradition to make them.”

“Then, let’s do it,” Kurapika states as he gives you a smile, allowing all your worries to disappear.

Shuffling over to make room for you, You sit down next to Kurapika on the soft carpet decorating the floor. As you two begin to decorate the white paper lanterns you bought, you two converse about your day. You tell him about how guarding Neon at the mall went. While he slowly, almost hesitantly, tells you about his meetings today. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, you knew he would trust you with his life, but you knew it was still hard for him to open up to people about his vulnerable side.

“I see…” You say out loud once Kurapika finishes explaining. At this point in time, you were resting your head on his shoulder. In a slight way to comfort him while he was telling his story, “I’m sorry Kurapika. I wish people weren’t heartless, money grubbing bastards.”

Kurapika laughs, almost sarcastically in a way, before kissing your forehead. “I wish for that too. But soon I won’t have to deal with that anymore.”

“Oh yeah, your new job is coming up right?” You mumble, almost to yourself in a way. It was some sort of bodyguard job for an emperor if you were remembering it correctly.

“Yeah—“ Kurapika is cut off by a loud bell ringing out.

“Ah, it’s already time?” You shout out surprised as you take a look at the clock. It truly was already 11:05, you two must have been talking for a while.

As both of you make your way outside, with Kurapika helping you get to your feet, you gasp as you see the sea of blue and white lanterns. Even with the cold pricking at your skin, you can’t help but feel a happy warm-like glee fill you to the core.

“So pretty,”

“Yeah it is…” Kurapika states, almost breathless and amazed at what was in front of him. He had seen the lanterns a couple of times while he was exploring after the Kurta Massacre but always from afar, almost hard to make out the shapes. Never up close. Never like this.

After a little bit more of watching the lanterns go by, you feel Kurapika tap you from behind. Turning around, you see he has already lit both of your lanterns. “Ready?”

“Yeah..” You whisper out, breathless out how handsome your boyfriend looked in the soft warm glow of the lanterns you two had made. Taking your lantern, you two stand next to each other ready to send them off. “On the count of three, okay?”

“1…”

“2….”

“3..—“

“Ah. Wait.” Kurapika suddenly says, quickly searching for something in his pocket. Thankfully even though he caught you off guard, you are able to stop yourself from letting the lantern go. Confused, you look at your boyfriend as he finally finds the item out he was looking for.

“A string?” You questioned confused as your boyfriend grabs the lantern from you. Though, you soon realize what he was doing and can’t help but feel your heart flutter.

“Yeah, I don’t want them to get separated after all,” Kurapika explains as he ties the lanterns together, each with a bit of space in between so they don’t bump into each other when they float away. As Kurapika gives your lantern back to you, you can’t help but feel extra jittery now. “Ready, (Y/n)?”

“Yeah…” You whisper out, finally allowing both of your lanterns to slowly float up into the sky to join the others. In the sea of blues and whites, the warm orange glow from your colorful lanterns stick out like a sore thumb.

After the lanterns start to make their way higher into the sky, you quickly close your eyes and begin to make a wish to yourself. Though as soon as you are about to wish for something you feel something caressing your cheek. It took you a moment but you soon realize it was Kurapika’s warm calloused hand.

Quickly, almost worried you would open your eyes too soon, a pair of soft lips mold against yours. It’s hesitant at first giving you slight pecks but once Kurapika gains more confidence as he goes on, he dives in further to give you something more passionate.

It’s as if the world has stopped when you two slowly pull away from the kiss. It’s peaceful, quiet and as if nothing could ruin this moment.

Kurapika flashes you a rare smile and he rests his arm around your waist when you slowly open your eyes. Even though he ruined your chance to make a wish, you didn’t care in the slightest and press further into his touch by resting your head on his chest and draping your arms loosely over his shoulder. Softly, you two begin to hear some jazz music playing from a band down on the street below. Leaning in to rest his head against yours, Kurapika begins to slowly sway you two back and forth. There wasn’t any reason behind the actions, you weren’t even sure Kurapika knew how to dance correctly. But, all that you two knew was it just felt… right…

Taking in each other’s presence as the aroma of hot chocolate fills the air from somewhere, you can’t help but feel at peace. Especially as you watch your two lanterns float off into the horizon.

Never, ever, floating two far away from the other…

[kazoo5480]

Ruby eyed Killian as he opened the door, and when Emma came in the door she squealed running toward her.

“Are you insane! I was terrified when you disappeared! You didn’t answer your phone, I was so worried” Ruby admonished while hugging her in a rocking motion. She kissed Emma’s cheek leaving a red imprint, and Emma smiled.

“Thank you, Rubes. I needed exactly what you gave me” she said and hugged her friend.

Ruby nodded and glanced at Killian. He stepped forward and Ruby hugged him, whispering in his ear that she had just been trying to protect them both.

He nodded, and Ruby cupped his cheek. She handed her keys to Emma before they could ask, and said she would have food ready for them on their way out.

Killian walked into Emma’s room and noticed her bed looked very slept in. Like a nest of pillows and blankets.

“Swan, did you have guests?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Ruby and M’s slept with me,” she said and his heart squeezed.

“C'mere, Swan” and patted the bed. She sat and he cupped her jaw. “No more running, I’m not, I need you to not either. Do you need space? We argue, I’ll give you space but we don’t leave our house angry, or scared. Ok?” His eyes bore into hers, and she nodded.

“Ok. But what if we need actual space?” She asked moving to stand.

He shrugged. I’ll get a couch for the office, sleep in the shop. But no, Granny’s isn’t our safe haven when we fight. That’s something I’ve been thinking about too" he said.

Emma looked at him curiously. “What do you mean? She asked.

"A house. For us. More space, I don’t know. It was just a thought” he said as he shoved her laptop bag full and zipped it.

Emma didn’t respond, and when he looked at her she sat in his lap and put her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry again. My rationale was that I ran somewhere nearby where I could straighten myself out. You had Graham, but my lack of communication sent you to a dark place. I trusted you, I knew you wouldn’t do that to me. But I needed the space to make sure my feelings were under control, that I wouldn’t hurt you just out of retaliation for your horrible ex-girlfriend. I didn’t plan to run out of town, that’s why I came here. A block away, I just needed to make sure that I was able to be rational, tell you why I did this to myself, and apologize to you” she said softly, and he let her continue.

“I hurt you by not trusting myself. I don’t know how to make that up to you. I am sorry you felt alone, I just was so afraid I’d say something to make it worse when really by saying nothing made it worse than words probably ever could have. I’ll just try to be better for you, every day.” she finished.

Killian wiped the stray tears on her cheeks away. “Ground rules Swan. No running. You wanna yell, fine. You want to run, you tell me why, and then you can yell some more when I won’t let you run. You just can’t do that to me, it made me feel insane because I lost the one person I depend on. Who held my happiness inside of her, and while on some level I knew you had to be nearby, I couldn’t say a word" he said, swallowing.

“You didn’t pick up calls, I didn’t know where you were. Had it been me who stumbled in and saw you in that way, I would have probably hit the guy too. The difference is I would have stopped, and asked if you were ok, and taken you home. You ran, like a ghost with no way for me to find you. I get it from your past, the abandonment, I forgive you, but I can’t have you do it ever again. It isn’t fair to me” he finished.

Emma nodded and hugged him. “I promise” she whispered and he hugged her tighter.

Killian kissed her, “now let’s get you home. We can watch all 7 Harry Potters since I probably won’t be letting you out of my sight for a while,” he said with a small chuckle.

Emma nodded, “fair enough”. She set her forehead against his.

“Are you sure that you can forgive me?” She asked and he nodded.

“I did the moment you left the note on your pillow, I just wish you’d have said where you were” he whispered.

“I knew you’d break the door down, and I wasn’t ready,” she said, stroking his hair.

Killian grabbed her bag, and she took one last look and they headed home, grabbing the bag off the counter from Ruby.

Emma unpacked quickly and changed into her pajamas wrapping one of Killian’s flannels around her as she ate her grilled cheese watching Harry Potter. Killian polished off his burger, and Emma laid atop him snuggling into him.

Killian’s phone chirped and he opened it, Emma watching the TV. Marco emailed him. He kissed Emma’s hair and said he would be right back, and headed into the bathroom.

Marco had sketched something incredibly similar to the photo, and he had priced out different stones giving him an idea. Killian typed out the number, one he had crunched every which way to make sure it was a smart choice and emailed him back asking what his options for the stone, the ring, and Marcos work would be totaled together.

He brushed his teeth and plugged his phone in. He smiled. Marco had said it could be ready by June, if not earlier. He shook the thought away and smiled at Emma curled up. He came back, and she sat up making room for him.

"Can we get a bigger couch? Like a sectional? She asked and he laughed beneath her cheek.

"Why? You don’t want to share couch space?” He asked her.

“No it’s not that, but it would be nice to get something more comfortable, maybe with one of those chaise things we can snuggle on together,” she said, her bottom lip jutting out and he laughed.

"As you wish” and kissed her forehead.

Emma headed to bed and snuggled into Killian. “Is it cold in here to you? She asked him.

He shook his head and felt her forehead, and frowned. "You don’t feel warm, do you not feel well?” He asked.

She shook her head, “just cold” she said.

“What do you think about a dog?” He mused as he played with her hair.

Emma looked at him, “I always wanted one,” she said with a small smile, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a little hopefulness.

He smiled,“ let’s get one. Someone for you to run with,” he said.

Emma smiled, “We don’t have a yard, the concrete out back would hurt its paws,” she said sadly.

He thought about it and nodded. “What if we fostered one for the holiday season? Graham always says they need foster homes since the staff wants to be with their families.”

“I think that would be okay,” she said, “just a foster until we have more room.”

“Are you allergic to anything?” He mused. She smiled and nodded, “penicillin.” He was surprised, but it was good to know.

“Are you?” She responded, and he shook his head, “not that I know of, but that’s good to know. Is August?” He asked and she shook her head.

“I should probably update my forms,” she said absentmindedly.

“Forms?” He asked her, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, medical forms, emergency contact information. I can add you, and keep August” she said.

He nodded. “I should probably do that too. Graham is mine,” he said. Emma nodded and kissed his jaw.

“You really aren’t cold?” She asked him again, and he shook his head pulling her closer. He started worrying, what if she got sick.

She curled her legs, tucking her feet between his calves. Killian yelped.

“What the bloody hell is that? You’re that cold?” She smiled and nodded at him.

“I’ll plastic the windows this weekend,” he said and kissed her forehead.

“I love you” she whispered, her head tucked under his chin.

“I love you more than anything. Sleep, I have a busy day tomorrow” and cuddled her tighter.

Killian’s breath evened out, and Emma couldn’t sleep. She laid there thinking, unable to turn her brain off. She began reading work emails, and deciding which cases she would take and those she wouldn’t. She knew she wanted to quit her job, but she also knew she had to give Graham an answer.

She rolled over on her side, looking at Storybrooke real estate. A large Gray victorian was for sale. It looked like it needed a lot of TLC, but it wasn’t crazy expensive. She would run past it tomorrow.

“Emma, sleep” Killian grumbled pulling her back into his chest, curling around her.

She shut her eyes, and finally drifted off to sleep, his body heat warming her.

Killian snuck out of bed and dressed, opening the shop up. He had a full day and was grateful for it. He had a ring to buy after all so he should probably try to keep the garage as full as possible.

He texted August and said he did want some help with stocks after all. Maybe a few investments were not a bad idea. He also thought about Emma’s approaching birthday, and his thought was interrupted as the new neighbor Ingrid pulled into the lot.

He waved and walked out to greet her. He apologized for his behavior, and she smiled knowingly. “

I’ve met Emma, she is lovely,“ she said and he nodded.

She needed help with her new ice cream truck and asked if he could have it towed, it needed quite a bit of work and a paint job. He happily accepted and promised to drop by around lunch. She left her car for an oil change, and he said he would drive it back to her when he came to see the truck.

Billy walked up the lot and Killian waved him in, and he turned on the radio getting to work.

Emma got up and pulled her email up, groaning when she saw a new case waiting in her inbox. She read the file, it was something local in Portland, so she agreed and said she would take it up tomorrow. That would be the last one she decided and would tell him after she turned the skip in, and got paid.

She headed down, Killian was under a car so she lowered the music waving to Billy. “Jones?” she called out.

Killian slid out and sat up, and she knelt before him. Pulling her phone out she showed him her maps, “I made sure you had access, I promise not to ever turn it off, even if I get mad. Ok?” she said and he pulled her to him and kissed her.

“Enjoy your run” and he kissed her again and she stood up, watching him slide back under the car.

Emma put her headphones in, and thought to the gray house, typing the address into her app and following the route. She hit play, and her music came to life. She tried to focus on the scenery, the people who smiled at her as she ran by, waving back. She tried to pick apart the last few days, tomorrow and analyzed why she was even running past this house.

She found herself running along the road, the beach and water to her right, and she noticed the houses were spread out further here. She wondered if she was lost, and then she saw it. She slowed to a walk stopping outside the white picket fence.

The house was massive and looked like it was in quite a state of disrepair. She noticed a flyer box on the for sale sign sitting on the lawn. She grabbed one, and walked around the back of the house, taking it in. The lawn was overgrown but there was a good size garage, three cars maybe, and the yard had a big tree, a lot of sun, and privacy.

She looked at the flyer again, and it was a pretty big house on the inside, whatever that looked like. The photos looked older, but she knew it wouldn’t be right to look at it without Killian.

When she got back she went upstairs and changed, heading to the market. She grabbed everything for the week, and some stuff to take to Portland with her on the off chance she was stuck overnight. She started making stir fry, and Killian walked in as it was almost done.

“No offense love, but you need a shower,” he said and kissed her neck. She laughed at him and told him to scoot. Killian headed down the hall, and she finished up, setting the dinner aside.

She stripped off her clothes and got in the shower. Killian’s back was to her and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” he said and turned around smiling down at her.

“Never said I would,” she said and lifted on her toes to kiss him. “But I do need a shower,” she said.

Killian hummed in appreciation, and grabbed the showerhead, holding it over her, and she started washing her hair, and he poured a generous amount of her body wash in her hand, rubbing it over her back, and slipping his soapy hands around, washing her everywhere except where she wanted him.

He was driving her insane on purpose. Emma smiled, let him continue, and began smearing the soap everywhere he wasn’t touching her, giving him a little show. Killian sat on the bench while she rinsed and shaved, and she watched as he took himself in hand, clearly trying to kill her with sexual tension.

Killian watched her close her eyes, sighing as the hot water ran over her body, her full breasts rosy pink, the cloud of vanilla encompassing the shower. He watched as she rubbed the soap off her chest, sliding her hands down and she threw him a saucy smirk, turning around and letting him take in a full view of her ass.

He groaned, his hand gently tugging his shaft, his skin flushed from the steam and before he was too far gone, he sat back, the cool glass against his back. Emma stood before him and kneeled. She tugged his lips to hers, her tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, and his arms banded around her pulling her closer.

Emma ran her hands down his chest, her nails scraping over his thighs, and he smirked at her, she kissed her way down before taking his thick cock in her hand and running her tongue across the weeping tip. She felt Killian’s hand weave into her hair, and she took him inside to her throat.

“Gods love, just like that,” he said and she sucked softly, swirling her tongue around the head before pumping him, and licking him sac to tip. His fingers tightened, scraping her scalp. She went back to doting on him, gently caressing his sac, and taint, paying special attention to the thick vein that ran up the length of him and he moaned her name loud enough for it to echo off the tiles.

“Emma” he cried, and she went faster. He was rutting his hips, holding her hair so tightly that he was fucking her mouth. She let him set the pace, and continued rubbing and cupping him, urging him on. She felt him swell and knew he was getting close. She sucked harder, her tongue rolling over the tip of him, and he growled as he came in her mouth.

Emma slowed her movements, gently letting him ride out the aftershocks and she looked up and him, his head tipped against the glass and eyes shut. She smirked and stood, washing her face and brushing her teeth quickly. She looked over, and his chest was heaving but he was looking at her with a wicked grin.

She shut the water off and reached for a towel which he promptly snatched away. He backed her against the tile and tossed the towel over the glass. “Oh love, I’m not done with you yet” he purred, and his fingers traced lines down Emma’s sides, tickling her.

Killian smirked as she giggled at him, and he glided his hands up to cup the heavy weights of her breasts, running his thumbs across the peaks. He kept his eyes locked on hers, watching the green darken, and she bit down on her lip. He tugged and rolled each nipple, getting her attention.

“I want to hear you,” he said and leaned in to kiss the column of her throat. Nipping and sucking the sensitive points, until she finally sighed, and her hips bucked. He smirked and felt his cock begin to harden again, felt the need for her crackling in his veins. He tugged her away from the wall and guided her to face the bench, lifting her leg to it, opening her.

He knelt behind her, and kissed over the globes of her perfect ass, leaving light bite marks in his wake as he moved her foot over slightly to widen her. Emma gasped above him, her hands planted on the glass in front of her for balance.

Killian licked and kneaded her cheeks until they were pink, and he smirked. He moved his way up, kissing her spine as he rose, and Emma trembled, goosebumps rising on her flesh. He nosed along her shoulder, lightly biting down on her neck, his tongue running over the marks left behind.

“Killian” she whispered, and he ran his palms across her belly, and hips until he finally ran his fingers across her slippery folds earning him a cry that would haunt him. ��Please” she begged.

“Mmm, I like when you beg. What do you want, Swan?” He murmured as he continued touching her so delicately, that he could see her hands curling against the glass in frustration as he avoided the pressure he knew would make her body sing for him.  

“I want you” she panted.

“Where?” he asked in a taunting tone.

Emma looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes flashing defiantly, and she lowered her leg off the bench to the ground. She grabbed the towel and left him there, and he cocked his head at her, as he watched her towel off.

“I didn’t say you could leave,” he said to her.

“I didn’t ask you to edge me as punishment,” she said and he could see her getting mad. On some level he wanted her mad, wanted her frustrated, to fuck their way through this, but he had to tread carefully with her right now, he could see the emotions flickering across her face. Anger, fear, anxiety, frustration.

He strode to her, pulling the towel gently from her and letting it pool on the floor. She said nothing, he gripped her hips, sliding his palms over her ass, and pulled her against him. Emma’s eyes were filled with fire when he looked into them.

“I am not punishing you, my love,” he said, nipping at her lip, sinking his teeth into it, his tongue running over it, and he felt her hands go to his chest, her nails scraping his skin.

Emma felt his fingers digging into her ass, hard enough to bruise her. He was pushing her towards something, but she didn’t know what it was yet. Killian had never used sex as a weapon or punishment, she trusted his instincts, to always show her love. But right now, his eyes were blazing with blue fire.

Emma took a deep breath, her body trembling. “I am desperate for you,” she whispered. “I need you to love me” she admitted feeling ashamed at her admission. Killian released her ass and his arms banded around her back lifting her, he walked her to the bed, and laid her down, stretching out on top of her.

“I do love you, more than anything Emma,” he said and kissed her hard. “I need you, I am just as desperate for you, to have you want me, to love me, to choose me,” he said and kissed her deeply. Emma moaned as he rubbed his cock through her folds, his hands tangled in her hair.

“I would do anything to have you be mine, give up everything for you. So long as you were mine, and only mine” he practically growled.

Emma’s mind was reeling too many thoughts, and his words, his hips driving her mad as they rubbed against her, her arousal skyrocketing.

“I am yours” she sighed, as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, taking a deep pull on it, making her back arch. “Just yours,” she said in a breathy cry, and he released her nosing at the opposite one, teasing it to a tight peak.

“Why won’t you make love to me?” She asked, and the tone of her voice sounded broken.

“I am. Focus on me, on us, what we are doing right now, in our bed. What do we always do in our bed? Tell me,” he said harshly, his eyes boring into hers as he hovered above her.

“Love. We always love each other” she said softly and he nodded.

“I am loving you, I am showing you I love you, only you. You are mine, and I am yours, whether I fuck you, make love slowly to you, or hold you, I am only ever showing you love Emma” and he guided himself inside of her, pushing the tip of his cock into her slowly.

Emma cried out, as he inched in, pumping in and out in shallow thrusts, preparing her to take him in. Her walls so tight and hot around him, he groaned at the intense feeling shooting up his spine, his heart hammering in his chest. Emma’s eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion, her breaths coming in short pants, ghosting over his lips. They snapped open the moment he was fully seated within her.

He snapped his hips and plunged into her as deep as he could in one stroke, filling her, stretching her, erasing every inch of space that she was feeling. His hands were everywhere. His skin touched every inch of hers that they could manage, and he never took his eyes off hers.

Every thrust, he never looked away, couldn’t look away. He kept his eyes on hers, forcing her to understand that he was hers, he wasn’t leaving, she owned him as much as he owned her. He pushed her legs wider apart, her hands clenched in the sheets, gripping them tightly.

Her green eyes sparkled with unshed tears, he leaned down to kiss her swollen lips. Their tongues tangled, sucking, and massaging each other’s so that they could hardly breathe. Emma felt like she was drowning, in pleasure, in him, in the feelings he was pouring into her with each thrust.

She locked her legs around his hips dragging him deeper inside, her arms around his neck hanging on as he fucked her hard, their moans and cries, skin slapping echoed through the empty loft.

Killian was reaching his breaking point, his release building quickly, and he wasn’t going over the edge without dragging her with him. He reached down, lightly rubbing the swollen nub, and Emma cried his name, her eyes snapped shut.

Emma was going to come, it was brewing hard inside of her, and it was going to tear through her, every roll of his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing so deeply inside of her, she closed her eyes at the onslaught of sensations, tensing around him. Her thighs trembled, and he wasn’t slowing down.

Emma’s nails were digging into his shoulders, almost painfully. He felt her clench down on him, her whimpers and moaning music to his ears, and the sensation of her squeezing his dick so tightly almost made him let go, but not without her. He changed angles, hitching her legs off his hips he pushed them to her chest and plunged in hard and fast, their headboard shook against the wall, banging against it with each thrust.

As soon as he pushed her legs to her chest, pushing in deeper than ever before, Emma screamed.

“Oh god” she chanted over and over as her orgasm rolled through her, and Killian roared as he spent himself inside of her, unable to hold it back any longer. His hands clasped around her wrists and he held them above her head pinning her still, as he emptied himself, nearly collapsing from the force of it.

Killian stayed hunched over her and pushed her legs down collapsing on her chest, releasing her hands as his heart pounded. Emma’s own heart was thudding beneath his ear while he felt her fingers sift through his hair lazily, both of them too tired to move yet.

He turned his head resting his chin on her chest. “Did I prove my point?” he asked with a light laugh, his chest still heaving and Emma huffed out a giggle and nodded.

He dipped his head down and kissed the skin over her heart. “I love you” she whispered, and he kissed her skin again in response. He pulled out of her slowly, and at this point didn’t care if the sheets got dirty. He pulled her into his chest, and they dozed off wrapped in each other.

Emma woke up, and glanced at the clock, it was nearly eight, she felt sticky, and went into the bathroom shutting the door. She used a washcloth and cleaned herself up, and tugged her robe on. She went to the kitchen where the stir fry had been long forgotten, but started the rice anyway, and heard the water run in the bathroom.

Killian came out in his sweats and grabbed a glass of water. He came to Emma and picked her up, setting her on the island and kissed her.

“Nice nap?” he asked her and she nodded, and hugged him.

“I have to work tomorrow, and I wanted to show you something,” she said and he nodded.

“Just to portland?” he asked and she nodded, sliding off the counter and grabbing the folded flyer out from under her laptop.

“I will do this job, and I am going to put in my notice, which leads me to the other thing I wanted to show you. But it can wait, it’s not important” she said, and he shook his head, plucking the paper from her fingers quickly. He opened it, and his eyes widened.

Emma blushed, watching him look it over.

“You want to buy a house?” he asked, kind of shocked. Emma shrugged.

“I thought we could look at it,” she said quietly. Killian could tell that she was holding something back.

“Talk to me Em, what is this about?” he asked.

Emma went to stir the stirfry that she was heating back up, placing the lid back over it.

“If I quit my job, and we want to buy it, I would have time to do stuff myself. I know it is a lot of work, but I thought you might like it. I ran past it, grabbed the flyer. I didn’t decide to buy a house without you, I just took the flyer, and I thought you might like the water being out your front door is all” she said and turned around, feeling her cheeks turn pink.

Killian looked at the paper, “This is Gold’s old house” he said. He read through it, it was a big house, a really big, old house. He thought about the ring he was about to buy, and a house wasn’t factored into that right now too. He needed to talk to August.

Emma leaned against the counter, “I would buy the house. In cash” she said, and Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What do you mean in cash? Who has that much cash in the bank? Do you even have a bank account?” he teased.

“August handles the money, I have it, I just never used it” she shrugged.

Killian’s head was spinning. “You just have 230 grand sitting in the bank?” he said skeptically. She shook her head.

“August handles it all, he invested everything we had ever earned aside from rent. He wanted us to be sure that we would never be poor or worry about money ever again, learned everything about stocks and that stuff, I have it, and probably the renovation costs too if I cashed some stuff out. I haven’t told him yet, but he sends me the statements” she said.

Killian leaned back, kind of shocked. “Em, you didn’t want to adopt a pet, two days ago you were hiding from me, and now you want to buy a house? I am just a little lost here, and the money thing, I don’t care about that. But a house, a big house is a huge step here, and that makes me nervous” he says honestly.

Emma nodded. “I know, I didn’t expect it. I just ran past it and poked around the yard looking at it. It was odd, I felt something I haven’t ever felt unless I was with you, or August” she said avoiding his eyes.

Killian stepped toward her and tipped her chin up, “and what is that, love?”

“Home. It felt like it could be a home, a real one” she whispered, and looked down almost seeming embarrassed. Killian wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. He sighed.

“We can look at it, ok?” Make an appointment for the weekend, or when you get back from work, we have to go get your car this weekend too,” he said and she nodded.

“Do you think we will ever do things in a normal time frame?” She smiled at him.

He grinned back, “probably not. We are absolutely mad, but it’s ok. It is us.”

He went to her laptop and pulled the listing up, looking over some of the photos, the place needed a lot, but it had good bones, and he thought of Liam. When he walked into the shop which was a dump, he said it has good bones, and they built the business in it, the good bones holding it up.

He smiled as Emma slid a plate to him and grabbed her own, and they sat looking through the pictures. “It might have good bones, we will see. Just don’t get your hopes up ok?” he said and she nodded.

“So tell me about the skip tomorrow,” he asked her. She told him, it was a quick find she thought, a few hours, and she already tracked his debit card to three ATMs, so she had an idea of where he might be and who to lean on. He was overwhelmed but nodded.

“Are you sure you want to quit?” he asked her as they put fresh sheets on, and climbed into bed.

Emma looked at him, “Do you think I shouldn’t? I don’t have to. I just thought…” and Killian kissed her.

“That wasn’t what I asked Swan, or said. I said, are you sure you want to quit?” he said.

“I know I don’t want random trips out of town anymore. I know I want to be with you, and here would be easier. I don’t think or know if I want to work with Graham but it’s a job, and whatever, and I am sure August would give me work too, so I could do it from home but I would need an office area. We are just a little tight on space up here, so I could use the office downstairs and get a better door if the drills are going” she said.

He nodded, “Ok, as long as you know that I am not asking you to quit. I am not telling you to. I don’t mind that you aren’t chasing criminals anymore, but that it is your choice. It is always your choice,” he said and smoothed her curls back.

I know, she said, and he nodded, pulling her into his chest and stroking her arm.

“So a house, huh? I assume a dog? Anything else on that list you have in your head?” he mused.

Emma smiled against his chest, “Not yet” she said.

“That means that there is more, but just not yet?” he asked her, feeling a weird sense of hope flutter in his chest.

She nodded, “not yet,” she said and buried her cold feet between his calves making his whole body jerk.

He rolled out of bed. “That’s it, you are sleeping in socks from now until summer,” he said and pulled wool socks over her feet. He climbed back in and she curled in, kissing his jaw.

“Spoilsport” she teased.

“Aye, I am the spoilsport who doesn’t want frostbite,” he said and kissed her head turning out the light.

“Get some rest, I love you,” he said and she snugged in burrowing into his side.

“I love you too,” she said.  

Emma got up and showered, grabbing her overnight bag hopefully for the last time in a long while, and Killian sent her out the door with a breakfast burrito and a kiss. She smiled and got in her car, making one last trek to Portland.

She dialed August, who picked up immediately.

“Hey sunshine, what’s up?” he said.

“How much do I have in the bank and stocks?” she asked, watching the traffic in front of her.

“Are you running somewhere?” He asked.

“No. But seriously, how much?” She heard him typing.

“How much do you need?” he asked.

“Probably 230. Maybe less, maybe more. Do I have that?” she asked.

August whistled. “You are being incredibly cryptic. You’re not asking for ten grand, so tell me why” he said.

She sighed, “a house. I’m considering buying one. Roots and all that,” she said.

He went quiet, and she heard more typing. “You’d have to cash in some stock, but you would still have a healthy portfolio even if we moved some stuff around. Do you want to buy a house? You were just considering leaving” he said pointedly.

“I didn’t run. I needed a breath, and you were right. I took that breath and put on my big girl panties, and now I am interested in a house August” she said irritatedly.

“I want to see it,” he said.

She sent him the link and waited.

“Wow. That’s a whole lot of house. Why is it so cheap, is that on the water?” he asked, and she heard clicking.

“It needs work. A lot of it. But if I can talk the owner down 30k, it could be a good investment once it was done,” she pointed out.

“Em, this place needs like everything from the looks of it. You’re sure?” he asked.

“I just had a feeling,” she said quietly.

“It felt like a home, didn’t it?” he asked.

Of course, he would understand. “Yeah, or the possibility of one. Holidays, and a bunch of things, just a feeling.”

He hummed. “Okay. Well, talk to the owner. See what she says, try to get her to 190. The roof alone will be 30k to replace, not to mention the new driveway, and probably pipes and electrical.”

Emma scoffed, “How do you know that?” she asked.

He laughed, “Emma you called me. I’m pulling permits and records on the house. It’s actually historical,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s just a thought” she said.

“Does Killian know?” he asked.

“Yeah, we talked about it a little. I just wanted to see it, if it was even reasonable, he agreed to look at it, mentioned good bones or something, but not to get my hopes up” she said.

He laughed. “Well, at least he is being smart. Good bones and everything” he said chuckling.

“I don’t know, it was just a question, could I afford it if I wanted it, I wasn’t sure how much liquid I had, I mean I see the statements but that doesn’t equal liquid cash,” she said.

“You lived like a fraternity kid for the last ten years, rarely splurging and I manage all of our money. If you want the house you can get it and not even touch Killian’s money. Did you show him your statement? Please tell me you didn’t” he said.

“No, I didn’t, your stuff is on it too. So no, of course not. Wait, you have access to his accounts?” she asked.

“Just his personal ones, I don’t look at them. But I offered him help a while back if he wanted to do stock options” he said.

Emma was surprised, and then she wasn’t. August made sure they would never be poor again. If the important person in her life was going to be permanent, August would ensure they wanted for nothing.

“I’m considering quitting my job, I am actually on my way to Portland now,” she said.  

August went quiet and coughed. “What? Why? He didn’t ask you, did he?”

“No, no. I just did some thinking before the fight, it doesn’t really make me happy anymore. I hate being gone a lot, and I kind of hate not being here, and if I want to come to see you, or travel I want to just go and live that life you and I always talked about, ya know?”

“Ah. I see. Well, come work for me. Work from home, make your own hours, but don’t be the fucking deputy” he laughed.

“Hey! I didn’t accept the offer. I feel bad because he does need help, it’s a local dependable job” she argued.

“Don’t ever wear a uniform or I will disown you” he laughed. “Brown is not your color duckling.”

“Ugh, alright mom, I have to go. I am nearly there. I’ll call you after. Love you byeeeee” and hung up.

The moment Emma left the lot Killian called Marco.

“Hello, Marco? Killian Jones” he said.

“Ah, good morning my boy. I saw your response, but since you called I can walk you through it. Is it a safe time to speak?” he asked.

“Sure. Now is good” Killian said.

“The design itself is not troublesome, what size stone do you think?” he asked and Killian looked through his notes.

“between one and two carats, I think the round would look nice,” he said.

“That is a fine choice for Emma. Now, do you have a preference for the Diamond?” he asked.

“Marco, I don’t know anything about diamonds. What are my options? Killian asked.

“Well, a 1.5 carat Diamond, with almost perfect clarity can run quite a lot. But I did some digging around, and I would be able to get you an almost flawless diamond for around Sixteen thousand. I would take no fee because it is for Emma, it would be my pleasure and my gift to you both” he said.

“So the diamond, and what about the setting? What would it be?” he asked.

“Do you want platinum, white gold, yellow gold, or rose gold?” Marco asked, and Killian heard typing.

Killian pulled the picture up, “The photo is white gold” he said, and Marco went back to typing.

“I could do the design, with that stone, the sapphires are small, in white gold and it would total to around twenty-four thousand, waiving all of my fees and labor,” he said.

“Marco, that isn’t fair. You are making a ring” he said.

“I am making something special for a child I was lucky enough to have in my life when I had none of my own. I told you, my gift is to do this for Emma” he said.

Killian scratched behind his ear. “That is incredibly generous of you, but I need you to be sure, I want you to be absolutely sure, you run a business,” he said.

Marco hummed. “Fine, you can pay me one dollar for fees,” he said, sounding like he was smiling.

Killian laughed, “you are an amazing man Marco. One dollar, accepted.”

“When can I expect to see you?” Marco asked.

“Um, I can probably swing a trip sometime after the holidays. Can you email me updates or photos in the meantime” Killian asked, suddenly nervous.

“Of course. I will send you all the details and receipts and call my guy now” Marco said. “You will make her very happy Killian, I am glad for you both. Thank you for including me” he said.

Killian blushed, “thank you, Marco,” he said and the man hung up.

He felt a rush of relief, that was all done. They had plenty of time to figure it out until it was ready, and a year was more than enough time to be together before an engagement.

The house crossed his mind, and just what else might be on Emma’s mental list, but he wouldn’t push. They needed to talk more about all these thoughts he was having, but he needed to get his head out of the clouds and work so he could pay for this ring.

Billy and he cranked out 6 oil changes, two tune-ups, and rolled Ingrid’s truck into the shop when everything was in the lot for pickup.

They stood side by side and looked at it. Billy whistled, “this is going to be a lot of work,” he said, and Killian nodded.

He sat back on the stool and lit a smoke, and grabbed his clipboard. He had Billy crawl under and start calling out things, Killian made a list of parts, and figured out how to get this thing running.

He was grateful when his cell rang, and August’s name flashed.

"Hello August,” he said.

“Jones. You got a second?”

“Sure, one minute”, Killian went into the office closing the door. “What’s up?”

“You two are moving things along arent you?” He said cryptically.

Killian sighed. “Did you call to bust my balls because I am actually working.”

“No, just between Emma’s thoughts, and you, you two are like speed racers. What is the rush with you two?” He asked.

“What do you mean? Did she says something?” Killian got anxious.

“Listen, I think it’s time we do some investing on your part. Emma is covered, but let me play around a bit with yours, put you in our options, grow that little nest egg you are sitting on” August said and Killian heard typing.

“Are you looking at my bank account?” He demanded.

“No, no. But Emma mentioned the house, and I am sure you are already considering a ring, it would be a wise choice to start making some moves to build that egg, and lucky for you, I am good at it” August said.

He scratched behind his ear, nervous. “Aug I don’t know, I need cash right now, and this house, if she wants it…”

“Emma has the house covered Jones” August said like it was nothing.

“That isn’t right mate if we buy a house we buy it together” he protested.

“Well, I know you don’t love her for money, you didn’t even know she had any since she lived like a child. So just do me a favor and let her buy the house. You can pay her back by being wise, and investing smartly to protect the offspring you two will inevitably have with the rate you two go at each other” he said sounding like he was laughing

Killian almost dropped the phone, “Wait. Does Emma tell you about our sex life!”

“No, she doesn’t need to thank god. I can tell by looking at you two, easy Jones. Anyways let me make some moves, give me ten to play with. If I lose it, I will put it back. If I triple it, you can thank me and name your child after me” he said laughing.

Killian laughed too, “you want ten grand to play with, like monopoly? And if you lose it, you put it back out of your own money? Fine.”

“Excellent. I mean I could do twenty. You have over seventy in the savings…” August said like he was talking about pennies.

“August, get out of my account. Ten. Start there, if you do it, I will let you take over, but please get out of my account. Seriously” Killian said, growing agitated.

“Fine, fine. Scott! He said yes”, August called out. Killian groaned.

“Love you both, bye”, Killian said ending the call. God her brother was a pain the ass, he looked at the ceiling pinching the bridge of his nose, a pang of longing for his own brother crossing his heart.

He came out and Billy handed him a completed list. They rolled the whiteboard out, and Billy did a crude mock-up of the truck and began writing. He looked at the clock, it was nearing six.

“Hey man, head out, I will see you in the morning,” Killian said and Billy nodded, just as exhausted as he was.

Killian closed up and headed upstairs to shower. He charged his phone and she still had not called after the text of arriving.

He dialed her as he dressed. “Hey babe, call you back,” she said and hung up.

She sounded like she was running. He sat on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face, and pulled up the tracking app. He followed her, she was most definitely running or driving very fast, but he zoomed in, the dot stopped. He waited a few minutes watching it, still not moving.

What the fuck, he thought. His heart relaxed when he saw it move again, slowly, but it moved. She must have got him.

He waited another hour, and the phone rang. “Swan, are you ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, um I am going to be a little late,” she said.

“Oh, ok. But you are heading back?”

“Ouch” she bit out and he heard a male’s voice in the background.

“Swan? What is going on?” he asked standing.

“Um, he had a knife, ouch! And he cut my arm, I’m being stitched. Easy man, it isn’t falling off,“ she barked at the medic.

"I’m coming to get you,” he said pulling a shirt on, trying to find his jeans.

“No, no. Seriously ill send you a photo, it isn’t bad, it was just a weird angle that caught me. I am ok, really. I turned him in, and tomorrow I am sending in my notice, I just wanted to get paid.”

“ You really decided to go out with a bang huh?” He said completely unamused.

Emma sighed, “I have had worse, I am ok. Hey, are you done? Can I go? Alright, babe, I am done. I will be out of here in a few and heading home. See you in like two hours or so.”

“Ok, just please be safe,” he said feeling defeated and anxiety building.

“I will. Killian, I love you” she said quickly.

He smiled, “I love you more than anything, one piece Swan. Not tiny pieces, not cut pieces. One whole piece,” he said.

“Aye Aye Captain,” she said and cut the call off.  

He smiled and climbed into bed. He turned the laptop on and put on a movie, they needed a tv for in here, seriously.

He went on amazon and ordered a small one and a wall mounting kit.

He woke up when he heard the door shut. Emma came in quietly and went into the bathroom, and the shower turned on. He heard her wince, and was at the door knocking a second later.

“Em, open up,” he said through the door.

She opened the door, looking a bit worse for wear. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I need to shower.”

Killian walked in and took a look at her outstretched arm. It was a nasty gash.

“Do you need help?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“I’ll be out in a few, sorry I woke you up.”

Emma held her arm out of the spray and washed the night off of her. She came out and Killian had Tylenol and a glass of water on her nightstand as he sat and waited for her.

She pulled on a flannel of his and crawled into bed, and he propped her arm up on some extra pillows.

“Thanks,” she said. “I am sorry.”

“Well, we got roughly 5 months in with you unscathed, and if this is your last one, then I say you did alright,” and kissed her forehead.

She nodded and was grateful it was her left arm and not her right. She yawned, and Killian tucked her damp curls behind her ear, and snuggled in closer to her, wrapping his hand around her good one as they fell asleep.

Killian got up with the sun, watching Emma sound asleep. He took in her golden curls in the morning light, her dark lashes on the apples of her cheeks. The dusting of freckles coating her nose. He just soaked her in, completely at peace.

“You’re watching me sleep again, Jones. It’s weird,” she mumbled with a small smile and snuggled into his chest.

He smiled and held her as best as he could without moving her arm. She would need Tylenol, he waited a few minutes before he headed to the kitchen and got everything, laying it on her nightstand. He kissed her cheek and headed down to the shop buttoning his coveralls.

He rolled the garage door up, and lit a smoke, grabbing the list they had started and placed an order for the parts they knew so far, getting a head start.

He grabbed the creeper and had just slid under the car when he heard Emma scream.

He bolted up the stairs and ran to the bathroom, “Emma!” He called and opened the door.

“I popped a stitch. Do you have a thread or a kit? She asked, and he nodded, taking in the blood soaking through the cloth she had against it.

"Babe it’s just a stitch, hurry” she pleaded and he ran down the stairs grabbing the red box.

He ran in and opened it on the counter, searching for the sutures. He found the steri strips and pulled them out, tearing one off.

He took her arm and he pulled the cloth away, Emma winced. He held her arm up above her head for a few seconds, and quickly pulled it down, securing her skin and adding a second for good measure.

Emma watched how quickly he worked, with soft touches. She smiled as he finished. “ Thank you,” she said and kissed him.

He nodded, do you need anything else? He asked, gazing at her softly. Emma shook her head.

Killian nodded and washed the blood off his hands. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need help.”

Emma kissed him and he headed down the hall. She finished brushing her teeth and pulled leggings on. She went to her laptop, popped it open, and dialed her boss.

After a long discussion, she gave her resignation. Her boss was a little pissed but she said after last night, her decision was made. She recommended two people she knew in Boston who did side work, and he appreciated it. She thanked him and ended the call.

She saw a missed text from August but it could wait. She shot a photo and sent it saying she would call later.

She called the number on the flyer, and spoke to a woman named Astrid, setting a viewing of the house up for tomorrow at lunchtime, and that was set.

She looked around the loft, if they bought a house what would they do with the space? Maybe Killian would want to rent it, extra income would be nice.

She slid on shoes and made her way downstairs, there was no way she could box, so she took a look at the whiteboard.

Billy slid out on the creeper and waved, Killian on the phone in the office. He came out a minute later with a sheet and taped it on the board.

“Hi, you ok,?” He asked.

Emma nodded and looked at the behemoth sitting on the lift. “Ingrids?” She asked and Killian nodded.

“Do you need help? I can order parts if you give me a list” she offered and he smiled.

“I just finished, go lay down,” he said. Emma sighed and nodded.

“Oh, tomorrow at 11, the house tour,” she said and he smiled at her.

She grabbed a book and went to sit on her chair, and grabbed her phone. She looked at couches, she bookmarked a few to show Killian, and when he came up for lunch, she began showing him the couches while he ate.

They agreed on one, and she ordered it. She looked around and decided with Halloween approaching, some decorations were needed. She ordered some and realized her birthday was now weeks away.

She booked that little place in Vermont for the week she had planned on and smiled. She was restless, so she went downstairs again, deciding on a walk. Killian nodded, and she headed out.

She walked the whole town and came across a little hair salon. She walked in, and made an appointment for herself, and headed home. She decided to establish an OB and a new doctor here, and she needed a dentist too. She completed her paperwork to include Killian as her contact first and August second for the first time ever.

When Killian finally headed up, Emma was asleep on the couch, a book laying on the floor. He smiled and snapped a photo, tucked it away, and called in Chinese before he hopped in the shower.

Emma woke up and the buzzer was going off. She looked around disoriented and headed down signing for the food. She popped some of the painkillers the doctor gave her and cleaned the cut.

Killian came out in his sweats and plated dinner up. She told him what she did, and he smiled.

“I’ve never put anyone else as an emergency contact besides August. It’s a big deal, and don’t tell him” she warned and he laughed.

Killian told her about August’s financial game, and she smiled.

“Babe, you don’t have to do that. I have enough if we want the house” she said.

He nodded, “well how about the car. Still a go?” He asked and she nodded. “Have you thought about what you want to do yet?” He asked.

Emma shook her head, “a break. Oh! I got the Vermont house booked for next month too” she said and he smiled nodding as she told him all the little details.

They curled up on the couches, and he decided to bring up those pesky thoughts. “Swan?”

“Hmm”

“Do you want kids someday?” He asked.

Emma’s mouth went dry. Not sure what he was meaning. “Like kids, plural?” She asked.

“Aye,” he said back amused.

“I’ve considered it, if it were the right time, right person…” she said.

She looked up at him, eyes searching his. “Do you?”

Killian nodded at her “Someday I do, very much,” he said.

“Ok,” she said smiling, and he kissed her hair and pictured a tiny blonde girl with blue-green eyes, a pregnant Emma, a family. He was really happy he called Marco.

Killian heard the door buzz and went down to the door. An amazon truck was there and the guy handed him his TV. He thanked him and headed upstairs, and Emma was already in bed.

“What is that?” She asked, her eyes widening at the sight of the box.

“A TV for in here,” he said tilting the box.

Emma laughed, “as if we need another reason to not leave our bed” she giggled. He winked at her and proceeded to unpack the TV, setting it up on the dresser for now, and sat on the edge of the bed setting the remote up. He finally crawled under the covers and Emma was sound asleep.

He smiled, turned on a movie on low, and set the timer. He fell asleep thinking about blonde-haired babies and Emma in a white dress.

@sailtoafarawayland @omgmarvelous

@holdingoutforapiratehero  @hookedmom @xsajx @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ohmightydevviepuu @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @girl-in-a-tiny-box @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @kaoslikesstuff @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans @cassy1511 @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @sarahpaq08 @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @xemmaloveskillianx @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @carpedzem @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @scientificapricot @cocohook38 @wisfan3000 @chrisilybrooke @pcrcabcth @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere  @fallingforthecaptain @lovethelifeyoulive1106 @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelous @justanother-unluckysoul @anothersworld @purplehawkcaptain @jennjenn615 @sailtoafarawayland @superchocovian @hookedonkillianforlife87 

[companionjones]

Mine Now

Requested by: Anon

Request: Okay so I saw this somewhere and now it’s like all I can think about. It’s a Criminal Minds x reader where they think R is the unsub, starts trying to break them R is cocky until they touch a sensitive nerve then R breaks but still doesn’t admit because well, they did not do it. Kinda like that one episode with Morgan in the first season It can be a pairing with whoever you want. Thank you!

Fandom: Criminal Minds (circa. season 7 I think)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader, Reader x OC I guess

Warnings: A reference to cursing, but no actual cursing

*******

    “Why don’t you guys just give up?” you groaned to the mirror in front of you. I’ve been here for five hours, and my story hasn’t changed. That means I’m telling the truth, right?”

    On the other side of the glass, Morgan argued your case. “They’re right. They haven’t confessed to anything since we brought them in. Are we sure we have the right person?”

    “We have to,” rebutted Emily, “All of the victims were ride-sharers. They were all summoned to Y/n’s house, and that’s the last place the victims were heard from. Y/n has to be our unsub.”

    “I’m going back in,” announced Hotch. His gaze was set on the interrogation room.

    Rossi shook his head. “Come on, Hotch. Give it a break. We’ll send someone else in there to throw Y/n off...How about Reid?”

    The younger agent glanced up from the report he was reading, clearly taken off guard. “What?”

    Hotch dismissed the offer. “No. I think, at this point, we’ll have better luck with someone Y/n is familiar with.”

    “Hey! Welcome back!” you greeted in a way-too-chipper fashion. “Decided to take another shot at me?”

    Hotchner didn’t respond to your question. He took the seat in front of you. “Let’s entertain the idea, for a moment, that you didn’t do it. Can you think of anyone who would? Someone who has access to your ride-sharing accounts and your home?”

    You were quiet for just a second longer than normal. “I have no clue. Isn’t it your job to catch the--what do you guys call them?--the unsub?”

    Hotch was just starting his response when the door opened.

    “Y/n, why didn’t you call me?” the man at the door inquired.

    “Who are you?” Hotch asked the obvious question.

    The mystery man was affronted. “I am Y/n’s lawyer. Now I’m assuming none of you feds bothered to check my client’s local traffic cameras, because the footage clearly shows every victim’s car driving away from my client’s home. Maybe, just maybe, the victims logged out of their ride-sharing accounts. Did that ever occur to you?”

    The lawyer took over the room. He made it impossible to talk over him. Yet, Hotch barely paid attention to him. Hotch’s eyes were on you.

    As soon as the lawyer entered, you shut down. You were no longer as outspoken as Hotch was used to. You wouldn’t even look up. You kept your eyes glued to the interrogation table.

    Before Hotch could argue, the lawyer announced, “I’m taking Y/n with me. You feds can have them back if you ever get any actual evidence against them.”

    The lawyer stormed out of the interrogation room with you in tow.

    Meanwhile, in the observation room, Morgan made a phone call. “Garcia, why didn’t we know that cameras in the area picked up the victims’ cars leaving L/n’s house?”

    “What?” the technical analyst was flabbergasted, offended even. “Honey, who do you take me for? I checked the footage of every camera within three blocks. And let me tell you, nothing--What in the world?” All the time she had been talking, Garcia had been typing away at her keyboard. Just because she was good at her job, she was rechecking the cameras in question. “This doesn’t make any sense,” she gawked at her computer screen.

    Derek was feeling left out. “What? What is it?”

    “Well, the cameras show the cars leaving Y/n’s house now, but they didn’t before,” Garcia explained. “That wouldn’t make any sense...unless...hang on...”

    Morgan heard more frantic typing over the phone.

    “Yep. I was right. This footage was doctored,” informed the technical analyst, “Someone replaced the old footage with new footage of the cars driving away.”

    Morgan chuckled, “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

    “Don’t worry,” Garcia seductively reassured, “You can make it up to me when you get home.”

    “You know I will,” Derek played along before hanging up. “Hotch, the lawyer was lying,” Morgan informed his boss as Hotch entered the room. “The footage he was talking about was altered.”

    Rossi wondered, “Who could it have been altered by?”

    “Guys, you aren’t going to believe this.” JJ came bursting into the room.

    Apparently, the security cameras out side the police station caught you and your lawyer kissing before getting into his car to leave.

    “So, Y/n has an accomplice. Maybe he’s the guy who hacked into the cameras on Y/n’s street while we had Y/n here,” assumed Derek.

    “I agree with him doing the hacking,” Hotch admitted, “My guess is it’s either the lawyer himself, or somebody working for him. However, I don’t think he’s Y/n’s accomplice. I believe he has more to do with this than Y/n does.”

    Reid was as intrigued as the rest of the team. “What makes you think that?”

    Hotch asked, “Did any of you see how Y/n responded when he walked into the room?”

    JJ was the first to respond. “No, all of my attention was on the idiot in a suit that wouldn’t let you get a word in.”

    The rest of the team seemed to agree with the blonde agent.

    “Well, as soon as he showed up, Y/n completely shut down,” explained Hotch, “They seemed entirely submissive to him, and even frightened. I believe our unsub is the lawyer.”

    Rossi inquired, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go catch the guy!”

    “We shouldn’t have let them go,” Hotch rebuked, “Now we don’t know where they are.”

    “Excuse me?” a lower-level detective entered the room and informed the team, “We got a strange call. They said they were the suspect that was just here, they told us to trace the call, and they haven’t spoken since.”

    Hotch was immediately on high alert. “That’s Y/n telling us where they are. You have their location?” he asked the detective.

    The detective nodded and read an address from a piece of paper. “Alright, let’s go,” Hotch began to follow most of the team out of the room, but Rossi stopped him.

    “Hotch, are you sure about this?” he questioned. “This may well be a trap that both the lawyer and Y/n set up.”

    The lead agent shook his head. “I don’t think so, Rossi. The body language I saw...it’s not something you can fake.

    “Whoa there,” David looked Aaron over. “That wouldn’t be infatuation I’m seeing, would it?”

    Hotch returned eye contact with Rossi so Rossi wouldn’t think he was faking anything...which Aaron definitely wasn’t...probably. “You know it isn’t. I barely know this person.”

    “That’s right,” confirmed Rossi. “Now you just need to make sure you don’t forget that.”

    Hotchner didn’t spare Rossi another glance as he exited.

    The ride to the address, which Garcia snooped out to be the lawyer’s (your boyfriend’s) house, was quiet. Everyone had time to think, including a certain supervisory special agent, whose mind was set on his feelings for you.

    Peacefulness would prove to be a true comfort because once the BAU arrived, the situation was thrown into chaos. As the SUVs pulled up, gunshots sounded from inside the residence. The team, as orderly as they could, rushed from their cars and toward the home. When they got through the door, they saw you and the lawyer. The lawyer had a gun to your throat.

    “Don’t do anything stupid,” warned Morgan.

    JJ ordered, “Put the gun down!”

    “Oh, good,” your tone was disproportionately relieved in the face of your condition, “You got my phone call.” Your eyes were on Aaron in particular.

    The lawyer started to ramble. “It’s all your fault,” he was talking to you. “You just had to be taken in by the cops. We had a good thing going, you and I. You gave me no other choice other than to pin it on you when you were stupid enough to practically turn yourself in. I even tried to give you the easy way out by taking you back home and ending you myself. Then, you go and call the FBI. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you love them more than me at this point.”

    “Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that, too.” You laughed without an once of humor involved. “You tricked me into being with you in college and roped into your psychopathic life. I’m done being too afraid of you to say anything.”

    The lawyer tightened his grip on you and the gun dug further into your neck. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk at all.”

    “You don’t have the authority to say that,” Hotch suddenly argued. “They’re not yours anymore.”

    You gaze toward Hotch changed.

    Hotch looked right at you when he finished, “They’re mine now.”

    Despite your position, your eye brows raised in surprise.

    “What did you just say?” the lawyer dared Hotch to repeat himself.

    The leader did so without hesitance. “I said Y/n is mine. Even after spending so little time in the interrogation room together, I convinced them to choose me over you.”

    “Shut up,” the lawyer gritted out.

    Hotch continued, “You must be pretty inconsequential for it to be so easy for me to--”

    “Shut up!” exploded the lawyer. In his fury, he took his gun off your neck and pointed it at Hotchner..

    As soon as he did that, the whole team shot him down, including Aaron.

    A string of relieved, yet also very bewildered curses left your mouth as you crouched down to the ground before your knees buckled. You were less than a foot from you dead boyfriend’s body.

    Hotch ignored everything else and went to you first. “Come on,” he invited, “Let’s get you out of here.”

    The next time you spoke, you and Hotch were sitting facing out the back of an ambulances. “So, how much time in prison am I looking at?” you wondered aloud to the FBI agent next to you.

    He shrugged, “None, most likely. You were under duress the whole relationship, and from what I can tell, you had nothing to do with what he was actually doing. I’ll give you the number of a good lawyer I know. She should be able to get you out of this without jail time.”

    “It just doesn’t seem fair,” you agonized, “I shouldn’t get to just walk away.”

    Hotch turned his gaze toward you. “If it’s any consolation, it’s not going to be that easy. You’re going to carry this with you the rest of your life. I’ll give you the numbers of some therapists I know, too. It helps to talk about all this.” He handed you his business card.

    “Wow. I should’ve known the FBI agent would be connected,” you joked softly. Then, you turned it over.

    Aaron’s personal number was on the back. “And if you ever want to talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll-I’ll be here.”

    “Thank you,” your gentle, tired voice remarked. “I’ll take you up on that, Agent Hotchner.”

    “Aaron, please,” he assured.

    You smiled, “Aaron.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that hear and reblog if you liked it! If you would like to read more, I have more fics on Criminal Minds over on my page. You should check it out. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you. <3 <3 <3

[matchacloudz]

Lotus Inn

Daniel Seavey x OC (Kora King)

Requested: No 

word count: 1.8k

Masterlist

 Not my gif

With a final groan, the radio cut and the car had finally given up on us. “I told you we should have gotten it looked at” I said to my best friend sitting in the passenger seat. Knowing I was right, all she could do was glare my way and unbuckle her seatbelt. “Yeah, yeah, now help me push this to the side” she said. I put the car into neutral and got out to help her move the piece of shit to the curb.

“You have your CAA card right?” She asked as we started slowly pushing the car, “mom never lets me leave without it” I said. “Man, why did this have to happen? We’re literally in the middle of our trip” she moaned, trying to push the car with me. “Need I remind you, I told you to check what the engine light was all about” I groaned with her. We were barely making any progress, but after a few minutes we finally got the car to a safe-ish position on the side of the road. “Let’s just call CAA yeah? See if we can’t get ourselves to a motel or some shit” she said, leaning on the boot of the car.

40 or so minutes of waiting in the heatwave, we finally saw the tow truck. “Is there anywhere I can drop you girls off?” The driver said as we grabbed our bags out of the trunk. Ella and I looked at each other, we had reservations at a hotel that we were nowhere close too. “Not unless you’re willing to drive us 4 more hours to our hotel” she joked, earning a laugh from the worker infront of us. “That’s a bit out of my pay range, but I know a place I can take you – always looking for new customers” he said. With no other options in site, we climbed into his car and were soon on our way to the mystery location.

-

“Here you are girls, Lotus inn, best local hotel on this side of the coast.” “Thank you for all your help, we really appreciate it” Ella said handing the man a 50. “No problem, we’ll get back to you on how much the car will be – hopefully you’ll be able to make the rest of your trip with no issues.” We nodded to him in gratitude and with that we went our separate ways.

“This place looks pretty nice” Ella commented, “yeah, let’s hope its in our price range” I tell her.

Surprisingly, we were able to book a room for a while – having enough money and having to splurge some what into the emergency stash we took. “Well, considering we can’t make it to anything else – feel like going to the pool for a while?” I offered once we settled. “Why not, maybe find something to do” she agreed.

The pool was near empty, people were lounging about – sunbathing, drinking and not a single kid in sight. “Did we get lucky?” I asked plopping myself on one of the lounge chairs. The two of us laid in silence, trying to decompress from the day we just had, I on the other hand was just excited to be out of the passenger seat after 5 hours. “Hey, don’t look now but that guy across the pool is totally checking you out” she said, I looked at her – but due to her sun glasses I couldn’t tell if she was bluffing or not. Deciding to investigate for my self, I flipped to my back and looked across the water – sure enough, a group of five guys were across from us and the bleach blonde one was subtly looking in our direction. “What do you think, out of 10?” I say looking at her. She glanced up once more and then back to her book “I give him a solid 9” she said.

I laughed at her response and headed to the bar. “Hey, two cranberry vodkas please” I tell the server, however I was trying to see if the blonde had followed me or not, sure enough – when I looked one more time, he left his friends and started making his way to the bar. Wanting to talk to him, I took a seat, placing my foot on the one next to me.

“This seat taken?” He asked putting his glasses on his head. I couldn’t help but smirk when he came by – totally a ten in my books. “Not at all” I tell him, grabbing my drinks from the bartender. “So I couldn’t help but notice you from across the pool” he told me, placing his arms on the bar in front of himself. “Oh, so you weren’t just checking out my ass?” I tease him, biting my lip. “Couldn’t help it, you caught my eye” he admitted smiling at me. “I’m Kora, my friends Ella” I tell him, “Daniel. I’ll introduce you to my friends later” he says.

Conversation flowed easily between the two of us, that was until Ella came up and interrupted us. “I take it that’s for me?” She asks referring to the second cran vodka sitting between us. “Oh, shit sorry, uh Ella this is Daniel. He’s in a band” I say emphasizing the last fact. She wasn’t surprised however, “and you say you don’t have a type” she mutters nudging my shoulders. “So what brings you two to the Lotus inn?” He asks, including her in the conversation. “Her car broke down, sort of a last-minute kind of thing – you?” I ask looking him in the eyes. “Me and the guys come here a lot, sort of a hidden gem to everyone, great for a get away once in a while” he said. “Hey Daniel, we gotta go” a taller boy with curler hair said coming up to us. “So much for a getaway – hey we’ll see you at the bonfire tonight right?” He asked pointing to a poster hung up behind the bar. I look to my best friend but before she can refuse anything I agree. “Cool, here’s my number by the way.” He writes 10 digits on a napkin before leaving with the curly haired boy.

-

Later that night as we get ready for the bonfire Ella cannot stop with all the questions about Daniel. “What’s he like? You guys were literally there for 40 minutes. Is he sweet? Does he seem like a douche bag?” I can’t help but laugh at her – its been way too long since she’s seen her boyfriend and now she’s living right through me. “He seems really authentic? I guess I can say, I mean, we literally lost track of time. He’s so charming” I say as I finish curling my hair. “Well what are you going to wear? You gotta wow him” she says going through my clothes. “I’m going to wear a this set and we’re going to go” I say pulling my outfit out for myself. “I’m not going to dress up for someone I just met and will probably see ever again” I tell her, “boo, you’re no fun” she said shuffling over to her own bag.

The sun had started to set by time we make it to the bonfire. Everything is in full swing, but I don’t see Daniel anywhere or the guys he was with. “Come on! Let’s grab something to drink!” I turn to Ella and she places a lei on my neck as well as handed me some glowsticks. “Where in the world did you get these already?” I asked sliding them to wear as bracelets “It’s a bonfire! They’re just being handed out!”

Daniel

The guys were taking their sweet time getting ready for the bonfire and I was getting impatient, wanting to get out their and meet up with Kora already. “Dude chill have some pre-drink” Corbyn said handing me a red solo cup. “What are you guys even doing? Let’s just go” I said, chugging the beer.

After some more complaining we finally made our way to the bonfire and I found Kora and Ella dancing in front of the fire almost immediately. I stayed with the boys while they grabbed some drinks. Kora looked over at me and winked, earning a blush – which she would never hear about. “That her?” Zach asked as I handed him a beer, “yeah with the flower necklace on” I tell him. I couldn’t help but just watch her for a while, she looked absolutely perfect swaying her hips to the music playing loudly. I downed my drink and went to grab another one when I felt someone grab my wrist. Looking back I saw Kora with a big smile on her face. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asked bringing me to the dance floor, “just admiring the view” I whisper in her ear. I noticed the shiver roll down her spine. “you keep talking like that and I think we both know how this night is going to end” she said.

Kora handed me her drink as Elle came up to give her a refill and grabbed my free hand. I slowly twirled her around and brought her back to my front, keeping her with me and telling other guys to fuck off. “So mr. Rockstar – I take it I’m yours for the rest of the night?” She whispered in my ears, “I mean, if you’ll take me” I tell her.

Elle and the boys soon crowd around us making a semi circle. I can’t seem to look away from Kora however, the sunset hits her face just perfectly. Her eyes are highlighted by the golden rays and she’s glowing. “It’s getting dark – do you guys want to get out of here?” Zach suggested to everybody. “Yeah, we don’t have anywhere to be in the morning” Ella said for us – clearly smitten with the brunette beside her.

We all take some booze from the party and make it back to our suite. “Shit you guys rich or something?” Ella jokes as Zach takes her hand leading her to the couch. “I mean, Daniel did say they are a band” Kora said, her hand never leaving mine. We all disperse around the living room; Jonah setting up spotify on the tv, Corbyn grabbing some glasses, Zach with Ella, Jack with Corbyn and Kora always by my side. “So, we partying or what?” Jonah asked as the music started playing.

The next few hours are spent with booze flowing, jokes being made and games being played. It was only midnight, and a few more people showed up making the hotel room a little crowded. I had opened the door to let the salty sea air cool us all down, and looked towards Kora.

She made her way to me and grabbed my hand. “Baby, come with me” she said leading me out the doorway.

  To be continued?....