#i made an entire family of guys and one of them names all his vehicles

[recentadultburnout]

Info for writer in Thai series fandom : Chapter 19 Mythical creatures

As the title says, this chapter will be about mythical creatures, specifically Himmaphan's creatures. There are a lot of himmaphan's creatures, some more popular than others. In this chapter, I won't list all of them here, just some, and I will just do a quick introduction and some random points I can think of, not their full myth.

The link below is to the Wikipedia page for Himmaphan. In there, there are also links to some of the himmaphan's creatures too. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Himavanta

This mythology is pretty famous and known across many regions, so there are a lot of resources in English already. So I think, just after a short introduction, anyone who is interested will be able to get more information quite easily.

There may be some differences between each region's version of it, but from what I saw, the differences are not that great. Especially if we look at only the character characteristics and not the entire epic.😆👍

นาค  naga

Naga is, in short, a big fantasy snake. There are quite a few types or ranks of them. They have four ways that they can be born. Opapātika, born and grows up immediately. Sansetcha, born from ashes and accumulated matter. Chalapucha, born from the womb. And āṇṭhāca, born from an egg. Water is their element.

Personally, I suspect that some of Nega's tales are of different origins from Himmaphan's tale but got mixed up when cultures merged. And that is the reason why there are so many more tales about them than about other mythical beings. But right now, I'm too lazy to actually drive in and try to verify that theory.

ordain บวชนาค When a man wants to ordain, there will be a short period during the ordain ceremony when the will gets called naga. The story involved is that back then, when Gotama Buddha was still alive, there was a naga that wanted to be a monk, but, in the end, as one of its requirements was to be human, he couldn't. So we incorporated this into the ceremony to honor him. There is a step in the ceremony where the person who is ordain has to confirm that he is, in fact, a human, too.

Water amount There is a belief that rain and water come from nagas, and the amount of water we get each year is determined by how many nagas are in charge of giving it. The more naga, the less water, because when there are more nagas, they start to be unwilling to do the work and want to push the burden on others. The maximum number of naga is seven per year.

Nakee is a pretty iconic drama about Naga. I never fully watched it, but if you are interested in Naga, this drama might be a good choice.

ครุฑ  Garuda

Garuda's appearance is part bird, part human, with a human's torso and arms and a bird's head, wings, and legs.

Garuda is a sibling of a different mother of Naga and an enemy. Their mothers are also siblings and enemies. In fact, the reason why Garuda and Naga are enemies is because their mothers made it that way. There is a lot of family conflict in this story. Garuda also eats Naga.

Garuda is one of the king's symbols. Culturally, the king is an avatar of Narayana, and Garuda is Narayana's vehicle.

(I tried to translate the word for this concept, สมมุติเทพ, but it seems like there isn't any word in English that fits.)

Queen Kakati กากี

Garuda Is one of the important characters in a famous tale about Queen Kakati. The story is that Garuda disguises himself as a man and goes to play a game with a king, and when he sees the king's wife, Queen Kakati, he wants her. So then he kidnaps her and brings her to his Chimplee Palace.

He slept with her there, and then one other guy also slept with her there. So the name Chimplee occasionally got used to hint at sexual things.

The name of the heroine also gets used for slut-shaming.

Just a warning if you want to read the whole thing. The story is heavily victim-blaming. All the guys in this story are trash, at least in the Thai version.

กินนร kinnon

Kinnon is described as a half-bird, half-human creature, or a creature with a human-like body but with detachable wings and tail.

Kinnari and kinnara are words that are also used to refer to the same mythical creatures.

We have a lot of variant words for each Himmaphan's creatures, actually. I think it's for poetry.

Suthon and Manora

Suthon and Manora is one of the stories that features Kinnon. Manora, the female protagonist, is a kinnari. She got captured one day when she removed her wings and tail during her bath with her sisters. After that, she met and fell in love with Prince Suthon. But later, Prince Suthon's family wronged her, making her flee back home. This tale is linked to the other tale. It says that Suthon and Manora's past lives are Phra Rod and Meree.

ปลาอานนท์  Anon fish

A giant fish that can cause an earthquake when it turns over.

นารีผล  Nariphon

Naripon is composed of two words: Nari (woman) and Phon (fruit). It is a fruit that resembles a beautiful girl. They have 7 days before they rot away.

คนธรรพ์  Gandharvas

Heavenly musicians and singers. Servant of a greater deity. They are pretty flirtatious beings and like to take a ripe nariphon for themselves.

I feel like they are always the asshole in every tale they feature.

นกหัสดีลิงค์  Hatsadiling

It looks mostly like a bird, but its beak looks like an elephant's trunk. The Hatsadiling is often used for decoration in cremation ceremonies because it is believed that it can carry the soul of the deceased to heaven.

There is evidence of the use of the Hatsadiling-shaped crematorium in the Lanna and Lan Chang cultures. But in Ubon Ratchathani, there is a specific tradition where they will have a person act as Sita performs the traditional Hatsadiling bird-killing ceremony.

There are a few versions of the tale that influence this tradition, but the highlight is that the woman named Sita kills a hatsadiling that has been causing trouble via arrow.

มอม  mom

The Mom creature looks similar to a mixture of many animals, including dogs, cats, geckos, lizards, monkeys, tigers, etc. It has long arms and a long, stretched body similar to that of a reptile. The color of the body will vary depending on the artist. This creature is prominent in Lanna art.

มกร  Makorn or Makara

It's statue is usually in a state of spitting something out of its mouth. It's look pretty similar to Hera. Often got mixed up with Hera. Some sources say that it IS the same creature as Hera, just an alternative name. 

เหรา   Hera

A mix of naga and (Chinese?) dragon, or a crocodile-like creature. It has four feet, and its face has both fins and a crest. It is sometimes described as a different mix, like with Garuda or a horse.

It's tale is that it tries to eat a naga but fails....

There is a statue of Mom and Hera that went viral awhile ago. It's an amateur DIY cement stair railing by a monk. It came out looking very adorable. they even got fan art and goods.

^Mom

^Hera

^The good in question.

สิงห์  lion

There are four types of lion-like creatures in the Himmaphan universe. (Not included the lion mix with other creatures.)

Kraisorn Rajasribody is white like conch shell. Mouth, belly, and feet are red like it is painted with cinnabar mixed with mercury and sulfur dissolved in lac water. Live in a gold or glass cave. It is faster than sound and has a voice as loud as thunder.

Kala Sriha is black and despises being a lion-like creature. It is an herbivore. Not that it is harmless, though.

Tinna Sriha has a red body like the legs of a pigeon and is as big as a bull. Also an herbivore. Tinna means grass.

Bantu Rajasribody is like the color of a yellow leaf. This one is carnivorous.

We use them in government logos, and some of the universities (4) have them as Faculty of Political Science logos. Each university uses a different one.

I found this website when I searched for the English spelling of Kraisorn Rajasri, and it is amazing. So this chapter ends here, lol.

And this website is for art that was created for the King Rama 9 funeral.

https://phramerumas.finearts.go.th/group-items.php?grpID=15

^ from the Fine Arts Department

^ from the Thailand Foundation

Index

[thecameronchronicles]

Grease Monkey

As requested ;) A bit of a longer fic here, but wanted to get all the tension hehe.

TW: Smut. Language. Semi-public sex. Possibly too hot to handle ;) 

SUMMARY: Your dad’s new hire is getting under your skin in a very specific kind of way…

WORD COUNT: 4900

Grease Monkey

You hated everything about cars. The complex mechanics behind what could be simplified. The various makes and models confusing you without a chance to guess them correctly. But more than anything, how they always seemed to be unreliable when you absolutely NEEDED them the most. 

This couldn't have been more of a case this morning as you had spent the better part of it in waste by pulling together an ensemble, critiquing every piece of hair until it became acquiesced beneath a brush and spray, and accentuating the features in which you knew were your best assets-all for a guy who couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of Sarah Cameron for five minutes, to now have to deal with this sputtering purr of a failing vehicle.

Cursing beneath your breath to how this entire day would now be ruined by having to spend it in the garage-only to be playfully berated by your father for operator error, you tried the ignition a handful of times at the hope it would be enough to get you to his shop on the very edge of The Cut. 

The resilience of a decade old engine would stall into a fade and eventual cessation just a quarter of a mile to where your father’s shop was highlighted by the pride of a sign harboring your family name in bold letters. Throwing the door closed in your temperament pushed further from one failure after another this morning, your soles had begun to tire by the time you finally made it to the garage. The sight of a small red truck occupying the corner of the garage, hood popped with the sole mechanic hard at work clattering beneath its red coat of paint, sent you within its direction. 

“Maybe if you used a bit more than duct tape, I would be able to make it to campus two days in a row-” You teased your dad, who was more of a MacGyver of sorts than a mechanic who used high end tools. After all, you were stationed on the cut, fixing up rusting trucks instead of the porches and cadillacs expected to come from Figure Eight. But it was a living and it was one your father poured every ounce of his time in to to supply a better life for you, which was why you never meant the words teasing him. 

“Dad?” You whined, already preparing to find a checklist of questions as a response for what ‘the daughter of a mechanic should know’ such as the right gas to put in, the number of air each tire needed with precision, and to always remember to turn off your headlights or risk draining the car’s battery. You were usually pretty good at maintaining your car, having only locked your keys in once when you were a new driver, but he still spoke these rules to you as if they were a religion. But to him-it was. 

“Dad?!” You groaned louder as he was unmoved by your summons. Frustrated from a morning that was already dripping with aggravation, you proactively moved to the open window of the car he was working on, lifting to the tips of your toes, before extending your palm to the horn to force his attention to you. 

But the belting of its chorus sent the mechanic beneath to collide with the hood itself in having been completely startled. But the sound of the curse made you understand that this wasn’t your father. Instead, it was a six foot tall boy with sun kissed skin, now revealing himself with a glare. 

“Fuck!” His echo lingered as his eyes now came to you in surprise in the same way yours had to him. Only where his silent observation took in the details of your ensemble appearing like a pinterest board athesthic come to life and the curves beneath that were meant for the eyes of someone else, yours came to the way his muscles flexed effortlessly in the small motions he made-now making you nervous to how attractive you immediately found him. 

Pulling a pair of cheap earbuds from either side of his blonde hair forced into wisps by a hat wearing your family’s name across its logo, you stood for a moment completely stunned by his presence. 

“What’s your problem?! He questioned while dramatically shaking his ears at the reverberation of your actions as your father made his way to the front of the garage for the same reason. 

“Hey, Sunshine, everything okay?” You repressed to roll your eyes at the nickname before being subjected to a side hug, your attention now devoted to explaining your ordeal to your father. In a matter of seconds, he convinced you he would rescue the remainder of your day by fixing your car in ‘no time’, before going to leave the garage. 

“I almost forgot…This is JJ, he’s the new mechanic-”

“I didn’t think you were hiring…” You explained truly bewildered at your father’s usual lone wolf status since the shop opened nearly two decades prior. 

“I’m not as young as I once was and this young man’s VERY skilled.” The way he spoke these words were innocent enough, but left your mouth dry as you took them entirely inappropriate. In the fraction of a minute you had seen him, you wondered how that bronzed skin felt in a trace beneath your finger tips or those full lips would be between your thighs-

“Keep him company until I get back, would ya?” Your father winked as you gave a weak smile, thankful nobody could read your thoughts at this moment. But as he left on the trek to receive your car, you were given a chance to analyze “JJ”.

 He was different from the other guys you usually saw within the seats of your college. He was stained in poverty and torment, carless to his appearance yet somehow confident enough to know he affected the opposite sex to harbor such arrogance. It was infuriating as his silence was deafening, all until he lifted his eyes from over the engine of his recent job. 

“So what happened? Flat tire? Get in a ditch putting on lip gloss or somethin’?” The way he individualized your gender left you nearly in a huff as you wished he was anything but right. In truth, you had picked up on a few details of cars from hearing your father discuss them with clients and just when explaining his day. But it wasn’t enough to rage a war of knowledge against someone otherwise trained in the craft. And yet, you wouldn’t allow him to know this. Not when he believed he was God’s gift to man, and you, an accompaniment to that. 

“ACTUALLY,” You began. “It’s been making this sputtering sound ever since we bought it. Dad says it’s something with some loose wires, so he has to wrap them up tighter-always worse after a storm.” He slowly bobbed his head as the sight of headlights kissed the pavement lining the outside of the garage. 

“Here she is-” Your dad spoke proudly, unhooking your worthless car from his hitch before pulling it to the center of the garage. You noticed how JJ only offered a second of interest before turning back to his own car, twisting a wrench within the mechanical entrails as his indifference managed to rub you in the opposite way his first impression had. 

“Sorry to do this-I got a call from Ward Cameron, he needs help with one of his engines, says if I get it done before the hour then he’ll pay double-”

“I’ll take care of it…” JJ peeled himself from his work station and moved before you, the slight scent of sweat masked in majority beneath sea salt and what you could have sworn to be marijuana had mixed in a way that was so sensual and masculine that it made your eyes follow him longer than they should. 

“You’re a trooper- '' Your father offered a kiss to the crown of your head before slipping back into his tow, offering a final wave, and leaving you alone once again. Part of you was left relieved, but the majority kept you nervous about how to act around JJ. He was a stranger after all. A tall, handsome, completely but apparently uninterested stranger…

“I’d bet you anything you couldn’t even show me where the carburetor is…” He teased, breaking the silence as you paused for a moment, moving behind him, and happening to point at it by chance. 

“Lucky guess-” He cocked his jaw, somewhat annoyed by your correct assumption. 

“And the headlight fluid?” Your brows furrowed. 

“Um…There…” You motioned to a small tube beneath the hood as it seemed the process of elimination would leave you correct again. 

“Well I need to fill it up, can you get it and tell me when the light comes on the dash for when its full?” You paused, only aware of the necessary lights of importance on your dash; such as gas and the speed. But to prove him wrong on his assumption of you, you nodded and made your way behind the wheel. 

“See anything yet?” He questioned, coming to your side of the car, leaning into the window, either unaware or indifferent to just how close he was to you. 

“Um…” You struggled, your eyes fixating on the sight of his muscles offered by the low cuts on either side of his shirt; a honey hued physique tensing when he bent to open the door. He now leaned over you, applying his palm into the passenger side of the seat. 

“Did you put six ounces in last time? Or eight?” He asked, your eyes darting to his lips, his voice drawing them there, before you fought the urge pulling to kiss him, and glared. 

“I think my dad did it so…” He slowly nodded. 

“Hmph-Interesting…” He looked at the dash and then back at you. 

“Since it doesn’t exist…” It took a moment to register his words before you let out a scoff, realizing that he had feigned the entire interrogation as an excuse to have you pinned against the driver’s seat of your car, his eyes now trained on you. 

“Look, it's just not my thing, okay? Doesn’t mean I’m stupid, I’m just…automotivally challenged…But I’m skilled at many other things, alright?” 

“Like?” His eyes suddenly illuminated to your words once realizing he had you frazzled enough to increase your breathing and make you nervous, where it irritated you as he seemed completely unaffected by you but well aware he could have you if he wanted. 

“Enough…things…” You spoke shyly, unable to list just one thing as his presence intimidated you. Usually guys would approach you with cheesy one-liners or a guise of offering a drink at a party, but never with such teasing. And it made you want to experience the things you had only read between the pages of literature. With him.

“Well from what I’ve heard…seems to me you need a bit of a…” His head cocked for a second, eyes now gluttonous over the way your chosen shirt clung to your breasts as his close proximity left you breathing erratically. 

“Release- '' You swallowed hard, unsure if he could tell how truly pent up you had been. Of your previous sexual experiences, they were all disappointments, with the exception of your own fingers, that you knew would pale in comparison to what he was seemingly offering you between poorly veiled words. 

“And what about YOU? I’m sure you’re just a one-and-done, right?” You glared to rival him, needing him to supply any amount of distance to offer you the chance to gain the upper hand for even a moment. Just to collect yourself. 

“I’ve never had anyone complain before…” 

“Maybe that’s because you were too quick…They didn’t have a chance…” You rebelled against your usual sweetened words, wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine as he pulled back, a look of ‘touche’ marked by his actions, as he now allowed you the chance to breathe from his parting. 

“Think you can come hold the flashlight?” He called to you, reigniting your anxieties as you threw your head back into the seat in frustration. 

“Were you checking out my ass?” He teased as you moved from the car. 

“No!” You blushed, having noticed it in your peripheral vision alone-how could you not as it was squeezed perfectly in his low jeans deprived of the support of a belt. 

He chuckled off his own remark before handing you the light as you stood with a cock of your hip and the illumination set loosely between your fingers. Frustrated at how you seemed anything but devoted to his request, he slipped his hands to your hips before pulling you directly at his side, this simplistic contact of his fingers to your skin offering just a hint of what would engulf your entire body if you damned your stubbornness and allowed him this connection. 

“Right here…” He explained, pointing to the portion of your car you had watched your father fix at least three dozen times in the last few years. But your focus wasn’t on the wires made loose by the rough roads of the recent construction, but in the way his voice drew out those words, almost as if in an attempt at seduction. 

“Problem, princess?”

“Did I do something to you?” 

“Can you just hold the flashlight without acting like I’m asking you to get a root canal?” You let out a sigh before he was suddenly at your back. 

“I need you to hold it…here…” He was more aggressive, more irritated, as he now had you between his arms, pressing you against his flexed frame and the rigid edge of your own car. His fingers on you as an excuse to worsen your goosebumps left by his touch. Your eyes closed to feel the warmth of his body, accentuated by the sweat of working in this day’s particular sweltering heat, the idea of tasting his skin sending your gaze into a roll. 

“You okay there?” He questioned, breath now hot against your ear. But it was the feeling of his hand softly at rest on your thigh that pulled you to face him, surprising you both as you weren’t certain what you would say once rivaling him, but simply needing to in order to reclaim some sense of existence beyond the fogginess his closeness brought you. 

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?” He smirked, showcasing a set of devilish dimples that brought innocence to eyes wearing seduction so well. 

“You KNOW what. Can you just fix my car so I can-”

“Damn, you NEED that release don’t you? A bit more than I thought-” His words set his feet in motion, bringing you back against the car as your hand fell behind you, meeting with the hot metal of a recently activated engine that brought you to cringe and wince in pain. But before you could learn the extent of this burn, he collected your wrist and pulled your fingertip to his lips. Keeping his eyes locked to you, he took you behind his mouth, mending the sting with his tongue running over it far too slowly to look elsewhere.

“Fuck it…” You spoke, igniting a fire behind his gaze, as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders until they sat at rest behind his neck. Yet between the two of you, you would reign as instigator and dominant to what you had expected from him. His kisses were thorough, almost strategic, as your fingers came into a frenzy at his arms, the need to feel him closer clear in your claws. 

“Slow down, baby-”

“We don’t have a lot of time-”

“An hour’s plenty…” He explained, breaking away from the kiss for only a second to close the hood of the car with a slam, and hiking you on top of it in complete effortlessness. 

“Not to do EVERYTHING I want to do…but enough…” His eyes sparkled with that mischief you came to note first and foremost before even a word had left his lips. Lips that were now returned to you in those thorough kisses. 

The time in which he held you there, kissing as if his intent was to engrain his kiss to the extent of your taste, everything began to spin. 

“How long HAS it been for you princess?” He questioned, words sweet but tone demanding as you struggled to answer without trembling in both cadence and physicality. 

“Too long…” You answered, his fingers falling from your hair, tracing your neck, and teasing the exposed skin of your breast, all in the test to see where you were most delicate. 

“After me, you won’t remember how they disappointed you, fuck, you won’t even remember their names-” You couldn’t help but scoff at him at this, having been told other things by other guys once upon a time. 

“You seem pretty full of yourself there, JJ…” He mirrored your heavy breath, leaning closer into you. 

“You’ll be, soon-then I won’t have to tell you.” You swallowed hard to the sudden pull of his fingers curving into your jean shorts, pulling you to the very edge of the hood until you were most reliant on him keeping you upwards in support. 

“Please….” You whimpered, the teasing traces of his fingers in accompaniment to his hot breath on your neck, making you desperate for what only he could offer you. 

“Patience, princess…I want to take my time with you…make sure to get out ALL of this tension that makes you act like a brat-” Your expression compressed into a scowl before the feeling of his fingers accessing your shorts and drawing small circles over your clit having now adjusted this into pleasure 

“Goddamn…” He groaned in approval. 

“Now I know you didn’t wear these for me…” He explained as it was impossible to know that this would happen as you were unaware of one another until a handful of minutes ago. But his words continued to make you feel closer to him than anyone else ever had. This was because of his selflessness to ensure you were aroused before doing anything for or to himself. But the idea of it made you eager, your fingers continuing their bites into his bare arms tensed to his own motions. 

“BUT, I’m sorry to say I’m gonna be the one to ruin them…” His fingers now lowered to your entrance, teasing the delicate and sensitive opening allowing you to showcase how he aroused you. He smirked at how saturated you were with only a few touches, before he slipped that ringed middle finger into you. Your body reacted immediately against him, but only for a second as he withdrew before producing a second thrust. Where your eyes narrowed in confusion, detesting the tease, he kept you silent with the devilish look across his face, as he led your arousal between his lips. 

“Mmm…As sweet as I thought you’d be…” The satisfying pop of this finger leaving his shit-eating grin made you despise the distance between you and the unwavering patience he seemed to exercise as you were nearly bucking in desperation to a few traces and dirty words. 

“JJ, please-”

“What do you like, sweetheart?” His tone, breathy, led his eyes to you in wanting as it sent you further into your neediness. 

“Anything!” He smirked wildly before slowly nodding. 

“Everything.” He added, hooking his fingers at the edges of your shorts before exposing you to him. Your eyes immediately came to the open garage at your side, well aware that anybody could pull up at any second-even your father. And yet, the fire trailed along your skin from his touch made you feel as if it was only the two of you. 

“Just relax, okay? Focus on me-look at me…watch me make you cum…” You gave a series of weak half nods, expecting his fingers to return to you. But instead, he lowered to his knees and began a crusade of french kisses along your thigh until his breath came to your sex. 

“So pretty when its so wet for me…” He kissed your clit, sending your eyes to close following a roll, before his devious teasing exchanged for commited pleasure as your fingers began to show your appreciation by wrapping in his hair, now absent the hat he had disposed of when getting onto his knees. 

The series of moans and groans vibrating against you only worsened your ability to remain silent as you struggled to do so in any attempt. Biting your bottom lip left you tasting the light copper of first blood as you optioned for a hand clasped around your own lips. 

“Uh uh-Those moans are too sexy to silence…I wanna know I’m doing a good job, baby…” His words made your heart, stomach, and eyes flutter as you embraced the moans desperate for escape. 

“JJ!” You breathed sharply, a familiar band twisting from within your stomach having informed you of an imminent release, any prior releases having been nothing in comparison to what he was drawing from you. Fingers now found your clit, a thumb rubbing the pulsating bud as you struggled to breathe against his motions. 

“Oh GOD! I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me, princess-I want you to cum on my tongue for me-I want to taste you…” He spoke in varied breaths, rushed and interrupted by the sloshing of having continued to pleasure you between your sopping thighs. For what usually embarrassed you, you were left further aroused and pleased as he moved faster into you, moaning and smirking as he was well aware of his expertise on the matter. 

And yet, there was something else you wanted more than this high. A mix of dominance and appreciation that sent you to take him to your lips immediately. He rose in quick succession, obeying your guidance, before setting his fingers back towards your core before you took hold of his wrists. Pushing him away for a moment, a flicker of worry developed behind cool blue eyes as you brought him to the side of your car. 

“I want you-”

He breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Princess-”

“In my mouth. I want to make you feel good…” Your words caught him off guard but the desire within him at a painful attention left him a victim to his human nature. He nodded, disrobing for you as he prepared yourself eagerly on your knees, pinning him in place by setting your bent legs on the edges of his toes. 

“Oh my God…” He grunted to the feeling of your hand wrapping around his cock, impressive and already weeping by just the thought of what was to come. You twisted slowly, drawing out the same torment he produced to you not even a handful of minutes prior. And you reveled in it. You became further in need of him-but in a way where you wanted him to feel as you did more than you wanted your own release. At least for now…

“Think you can handle it?”

“Not if you keep looking at me like that…” He spoke almost distant from the kindness he had shown until now while you bit your bottom lip before taking him behind that devilish grin.

 There was something in the way he was compassionate with you in contrast to those selfish lovers in your past that made you want to push beyond the grace of your novice predecessors. You knew enough about sex to make it enjoyable for yourself and whichever partner you chose, but always found a let down-until now…

“Fuck yeah…oh God…” He groaned, fingers collecting your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you were relentless against a silenced reflex. Despite the need to gag on his shaft, the swollen head making it difficult to breathe stuffed to the very back of your throat, you continued, wanting to push even further for him. 

“Oh shit…Oh Fuck! Slow down, you’re gonna make me cum-” Your smirk led him to pull your hair back far enough to reinstate dominance. 

“I don’t want to cum down your throat…So slow down.” He was sharp, in a way that only extended the drip between your legs, before his fingers relaxed enough to still keep a hold, just a kinder one, before he let you continue. 

“He-hello?” A voice called from the front of the garage as you paused, a cold chill of discovery running through you. 

“Don’t fucking stop-” He explained, taking you harder against him, yet turning to face the new patron. 

“Yes?” His charming smile hid the orgasm approaching him from your swirling tongue and corkscrew grip, not to mention the warm welcome of your throat. 

“Yeah, uh something weird happening with my engine man-” The man began to explain as you found it difficult to hear the details as the sounds of JJ being taken and removed from you was too much of a distraction to focus on anything else. 

“Just leave the keys on the tire, I’ll get to it in a minute.” He spoke rather impressively, sounding as if his cock wasn’t gearing up to rain down your throat at any given second. 

“You don’t need my name?”

“Just leave the keys, man.” JJ was now impatient as the man nodded, did as requested, and JJ’s eyes were heavy now returning to you. Teary eyed and breathless on your knees, he no longer cared for the courtesy of chivalry. Certain you were unseen, he forced you back to your feet, leading you back to the front of the car. 

“If I would have known about you, I would have slit your goddamn tires or cut your fucking fuel line if it got you here sooner.” You chuckled to his desperation as he pulled you against him, fingers softly lain around your neck in more direction than possession, before his hand moved back to your clit. 

“Nothing funny about what I’m gonna do to you, princess…” He explained, fingers pumping at a delicious pace as his thumb returned in passionate circles while you found it difficult to stand. 

“You like this? Huh? You like being taken from behind?”

“Yes…” You moaned as he scoffed, reaching into the pants still loose at his ankles, to produce a condom. Tearing it open with his teeth, he set it over his cock, all slowing his movements to you as his focus dwindled for only a moment. 

“Think you’re wet enough to take me all the way?” You nodded, chivalry and seduction making you clench in unison to him. 

“Please-” 

“That’s my girl.” He spoke proudly, taking his entire length into you in an effortless penetration, sliding beyond your initial clench and resting in a bottomed out rest. He remained this way for a second, allowing you to feel the extent of his cock, the twitch from your tightness around him, the veins greeting the greedy walls of your velvet interior. 

“So fucking tight.” He spoke through clenched teeth. 

“So good for me, aren’t you? Made for this cock, yeah?” He asked, bending you further over the hood as you nodded, inaudible agreeability released from your quivering lips. 

“Don’t cum-”

“JJ!” You whined. 

“I want you to cum WITH me, princess…I want to do it together, okay? I know you can…you’re so fucking good! Just a little more…” You nodded, the clutch of his fingers into your hips leaving your throat hoarse to the pleas cast in an echo due to the garage. His reflection cast from the windshield before you only deepened your own euphoria as his mouth fell slack, sweat now present over his otherwise flawlessly awed expression.

“So fucking beautiful!” He clenched. 

“JJ!” You warned, more exasperated than anything, as he lifted you against his chest, slowing his motions but somehow making them deeper by this angle. His fingers were now greedy beneath your shirt, the bare skin of your breast finding a new home within his palm. 

“Every part of you is so perfect…” He spoke into your neck, continuing his bucks. 

“So perfect. So tight. So-Ugh!” He struggled to speak, his pleasure forcing him mute. His fingers tightened around your neck as yours feasted in dominance around either of his wrists. 

“Please, JJ! You feel so good, I need to cum! Please!” You whimpered, this prompting him to teeter off of his own edge.

“Then cum for me. Cum all over my cock so I can keep you with me…Come on, princess…Let me take all that fucking tension…oh yeah…that’s it…oh yeah baby…That’s it…right there-right THERE. JUST. LIKE. THAT.” This final words sent you both into this spiral at the very second a familiar sound of a specific tow truck made its way before the garage. You were given just enough time to redress before giving a quick adjustment of your appearance and facing your father. But even if there lay no evidence of what just transpired, the guilt over your face led some sense of difference to be made known to him.

“Everything turn out alright with Ward?” JJ questioned, moving back to the hood of the car, pulling it open as you blushed at the evidence of perspired hand prints having now soiled its paint job within a certain light. 

“Yeah, how about here? Fix my little girl’s car?”

“I think she’ll have to come back for it tomorrow…” He gave you a half smirk as you couldn’t hide your own from developing wide across your face. 

“Alright, then…” Your father remained within the garage, moving about the work stations to prepare for his own tasks while JJ leaned close enough into you where only you could hear him. 

“I’ll service you anytime, Princess…”

[sammysvanfeet]

Boston Calling || Chapter 16 || The Finale

Jake x Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Word count: almost 5k

*WARNINGS*: smut, oral sex (f receiving), semi public sex, unprotected sex, slight degradation

A/N - Well that's it, you guys. It's officially over. The first fic, yet alone series, that A and I ever wrote. It feels like the end of an era. Thank you for your patience and love <3 and thank you to @shutupdevvie and @kdarling1 for proofreading!

After our whirlwind Spring Break trip, the drive back to Boston was a comfortable one; I rode with Danny again as the Kiszka boys had only taken Josh’s Jeep and between Sam’s copious amounts of luggage, there wasn’t much room for one more in their vehicle. I argued that I couldn’t leave Danny all by his lonesome, and frankly I think I might have gone insane if I had to sit in a car full of Kiszka’s for the long journey home.

“So I’m assuming all is well with you and Jake now, huh?” Danny questioned, glancing briefly away from the road to look at me.

“Yeah,” I giggled, before sighing wistfully, “I told him I loved him back.” I smiled, a blush creeping up on the apples of my cheeks.

“Not to brag, but I kind of predicted all along how this would turn out.” He exclaimed, faux arrogance laced in his voice. Making a show of dusting his shoulders off, a cocky look on his face. 

I simply giggled in response to his teasing, “How’d you know how things would turn out, huh? What are you, psychic?” I asked, teasing him back.

“Of course I am.” He muttered, rolling his eyes in fake sarcasm before joining me in my fit of giggles.

The moment was sweet, platonic; a friendship I hadn’t had in ages, if ever. It was not lost on me that I was almost willing to give this up, and more, all because I wasn’t brave enough to stay for something I truly wanted. I laid my head back on the seatrest, turning to the side to look at Danny fondly.

“Thank you Danny, really, what you did for me was very thoughtful.” 

“All in the name of love.” He said in response. 

The rest of my time spent in Michigan was lovely, I had never visited the picturesque state before, but everyone ensured that I would have a lovely time… and they were right. Unfortunately the warm weather only lasted for a very brief period of time before the cold continued to drag along and there we were, back again, bundled in cardigans and sweaters in accordance to the mercurial beginning season of Spring. 

The cool breeze swept through the half open car windows, my hair safely contained within Jake’s scarf. Before I had embarked on the road trip back to Boston with Danny, Jake showed up at the Wagner family home in search of me. He gave me a sweet peck on the lips, respectful due to prying eyes, and told me he would see me soon before he wished us safe travels. He didn’t leave before handing me his scarf and winked while saying “for the road” with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

By the time we had returned to Boston and reached my apartment, it was way past dark. I was exhausted but so unbelievably content. Danny walked me all the way to my door and made sure I was situated before leaving back to his shared place with Sam. As I entered my home, it struck me that the walls were bare, everything that I had so meticulously and thoughtfully placed throughout my home was gone; packed away in boxes due to the result of my reckless, self sabotaging decision. The boxes of my most treasured belongings must have reached Nashville by now, the only remaining pieces of furniture were my beloved couch and my bed stripped away of everything, including the sheets. Having to wrangle with my mother to send them back to my apartment was undoubtedly going to prove to be a challenge… for all I know she may have thrown my things out entirely. 

I sighed, laying on the threadbare bed without even a pillow to rest my head upon. It was apparent that the embarrassment and hurt of what I had done to Jake had not completely left and my ghost of an apartment was only igniting the barely there, lingering guilt I still felt in my bones. Without giving it much thought I picked my phone up and immediately dialed Jake’s number. He picked up on the first ring, sounding out of breath, as if he had rushed to answer my call.

“Hey, baby! Did you get home alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, I did. Danny just dropped me off, thank you for checking in. What about you guys, everything good?” I responded, not quite ready to admit how alone and vulnerable I was feeling.

“Yep, Sammy just left to his apartment down the hall and Josh is fast asleep passed out on the couch.” He chuckled at his twin’s expense. 

“Hey, umm… Jakey? Do you think you could perhaps come pick me up? If you’re not too busy unpacking or doing something important, I mean.” I asked meekly, my voice breaking slightly. 

“Yes, sweetheart! Of course. Is everything okay? Did something happen?” He responded, a hint of concern painting his voice.

“I’m really lonely, that's all,” I whimpered, tears threatening to spill from the corners of my eyes, “I came home to an empty apartment, I went to lay down but I don’t even have my bedsheets, or a pillow to rest my head on. Everything has already been sent down to Nashville and I’m honestly not even sure of the whereabouts of my belongings anymore.” I finished, my voice wavering with emotion.

“Oh shit, baby.” He said, the slightest hint of pity traveling through the phone. “Don’t cry, I’ll be down to get you in a few minutes. Pack some things so you can stay over, and tomorrow I’ll help you resituate your apartment, okay?”

“Thank you so much, Jake. You have no idea how much that would mean to me.” I reply earnestly. 

True to his word, not even fifteen minutes later, there he was by the sidewalk of my apartment building, the top of his convertible on given the chill the Boston air had taken this week. Donning a pair of reading glasses, he greets me as I step into the car. 

“You wear glasses?” I exclaimed in awe. 

“Yeah, I do.” He responded, chuckling at my enthusiasm over his new accessory.

“Since when?” I questioned, reaching over to trace the side frames of the glasses. 

“I got the prescription a few weeks ago, and I normally wear contacts, but recently I’ve been wearing the glasses just because they don’t cause as much irritation, you know?” He explains, putting the car into drive and pulling into traffic. 

“They look so good.” I complimented, my voice husky and my gaze never leaving his shiny eyes. 

He giggled adorably and blushed at my sentiment.

“I don’t know, I kinda think it makes me look all awkward and nerdy.” He said, sounding insecure. 

“Well for the record, I think you look super sexy and smart and sophisticated.” I complimented.

He simply proceeded to smirk and shake his head in response. He reached over with his free hand and took one of mine in his, connecting them and resting them gently on the center console. I absolutely swooned at the action, feeling so incredibly lucky to have reached this point after an admittedly rocky start to our relationship. A quiet but comfortable atmosphere enveloped us as he drove through the streets of Boston, navigating us expertly to his apartment. 

We entered his home quietly, all whispers and tip toes as we snuck past a slumbering Josh in the living room, bee lining for Jake’s bedroom. Once his door had softly closed, he pounced on me, hands knotting themself in my previously perfectly styled hair, but I didn’t mind. Jake could ruin me and I’d say “thank you”. His deft fingers began working their way down my silk blouse, undoing the buttons expertly, before sliding the fabric off of my shoulders until I stood before him in just a black lace bra and a pair of tailored jeans… my best version of casual. 

“You are perfection, baby.” He whispered before placing open mouthed kisses on my shoulder, traveling to the junction of my neck. 

“Jake.” I panted as he sucked particularly hard, earning a small whimper to escape my lips. 

“You sound so sweet for me.” He complimented, still working my neck. 

“Mmm…” I tried my hardest to suppress the moans that threatened to spill over. 

“Let me hear them, Y/N.” He instructed. 

“But what about Josh?” I questioned, still vaguely aware of his sleeping presence in the small apartment. 

“Don’t want my twin brother to hear how good I make you feel?” He teased. “He can sleep through anything, and if he happens to wake up and have a problem with you screaming my name, then he can fuck off down to Sam’s place.”

Jake’s hands gripped my hips, walking me backwards until my knees hit the back of the bed. He lay me down gently, before making quick work of removing my shoes and denim pants. Once he had peeled the fabric off of my legs, he placed soft kisses over the expanse of my thighs, showing them an equal amount of attention. I bucked my hips impatiently, earning a smug laugh from him. He hovered his perfect face over my clothed core, leaning in incredibly slow before taking my lace thong in between his teeth, beginning to pull them away from me. His lust blown pupils held my gaze as he used his mouth to peel away the flimsy layer of fabric. The sight was deliciously sinful, I was sure that my arousal was making a mess of the sheets beneath me. Jake took my panties from his mouth, bringing them to his nose and inhaling.

“Smell so fucking sweet. Need to taste that pretty pussy.”

I squirmed in place once, watching as he threw the underwear haphazardly into the corner of the room. Once he focused back on me, he practically dove into my legs. He pulled me closer to the edge of the bed and placed my thighs over each shoulder before licking a languid stripe from my core to my clit. I squealed at the sudden contact.

“You like that, Princess?” He smirked.

“Fuck yes, Jakey. Please keep going.” I begged, one hand finding purchase in his beautiful chestnut hair.

He bought a finger up to toy with the wetness surrounding my entrance, before plunging the digit inside as his tongue painted intricate patterns upon my throbbing clit. I mewled in response, tugging at his roots and beginning to grind down on his face. My head was thrown back as I lost myself in the feeling. I was vaguely aware of the presence of a second finger inside me, fucking into me and curling just right. 

“Right there, baby. Just like that.” I moaned out, no longer concerned that Josh may hear.

Jake removed his expert mouth from me, just long enough for him to utter, “I want to hear you scream my name when you cum all over my face.”

“Fuck!” I yelled, beginning to grind down faster and harder, chasing that beautiful release.

His fingers strummed against the spongy tissue inside of me, his mouth began to suck upon my clit and before I knew it, I was crashing headfirst into my orgasm, cumming all over his beautiful face like he’d begged me to with a scream of “Jake, Jake, Jake”.

✦✦✦

ONE YEAR LATER

It was Spring once again, four seasons had come and gone and now Jake and I were nearing our first anniversary together. We had spent the rest of the previous year navigating our internship and mutual classes as an official couple. Despite our relationship status, our competitive nature never faltered, we both pushed each other to be better people. My mother had struggled to accept the fact that I had decided to stay in Boston; to stay with Jake. She never returned the belongings that I had shipped to Nashville, but I didn’t find I had a need for them anymore, Jake and I moved in together and I started rebuilding my life one thrifted item at a time. My baby blue scarf was now replaced by Jake’s silk one. My sister’s pink slip dress replaced by thrifted sundresses. Jake, Josh, Sam and Danny were my family now, and I was finally living a life that was truly mine. Josh still lived with us and as much as I thought I’d hate the idea, it was kind of fun having my best friend and my boyfriend around so much. However, it did make it more difficult for Jake and I to have some ‘alone time’, after one particularly loud night last year, Josh had practically begged us to be more considerate roommates.

This semester had already proved to be a lot more difficult than the last. Most nights Jake and I found ourselves in the library, cramming until ungodly hours. It was a Tuesday night, and once again we were sat at our usual table, studying for an upcoming Music Theory exam. I was exhausted and as close as Jake and I were in proximity, I still found myself missing his touch. Between school and work, we hadn’t spent a lot of time together intimately lately. I was all sorts of frustrated and the words I was currently trying to memorize all seemed to mesh together. I was finding myself rereading the same paragraphs over and it was giving me a slight headache. Although the test was still days away, the preparation was extremely demanding, and I was feeling the effects of hours worth of studying and a severe lack of physical touch.

Pausing my right hand that was occupied with the task of writing notes I set the pencil down gently, my eyes feeling hazy from the countless pages of reading. My hand felt cramped from the copious amounts of notes I had been writing. I extended my fingers in and out and I winced in pain. The tendons in my hands were aching and burning. Jake, ever the observant, who had been sitting across from me brought his head up from the paragraph he was immersed in, giving me a concerned look, his eyebrows furrowing just a tad. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, delicately. 

I shook my right hand a little, a frustrated expression clearly evident on my face, “Just a little headache. But my hand hurts so bad.” I whined. 

Jake gave me an empathetic pout, as if he felt sorry for my state. He used his index finger to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before extending both hands towards my right.

“Give me your hand, sweetheart.” He requested, and without hesitation I reached towards his outstretched palms. The second they made contact with mine, he immediately began rubbing up and down my aching hand with his fingers, gently massaging the flesh. 

I recognized them as the massages he would perform on himself from all the intense and grueling guitar playing. The feeling had melted me completely. I sighed, tilting my head back a little and letting my arm go limp in his touch. The massage was much needed and it was proving to be incredibly effective. He continued his ministrations, easing his thumbs and index fingers back and forth in a firm pattern. 

“Do you happen to have any lotion or something?” He questioned. “It will be much easier, it won’t feel like I’m pulling at your skin so tight.” 

The massage so far had been nothing short of pleasurable, however, it was just like Jake to find any possible way to go above and beyond and make me feel even better. He looked up at me when I hadn’t answered, my gaze fixed on his. 

“Uhh, I think there’s a little tube of it in my backpack.” I responded.

He gently let go of my hand so I could retrieve the item. I bent down to where my backpack was resting against the wooden chair, unzipped the front compartment and pulled out the little aluminum tube of floral scented hand cream. From my peripheral I could see Jake yet again pushing his glasses up his nose, scrunching it a tad, placing the specks on his face just right. His gaze was set on the lotion as I passed it to him, he twisted it to the front, reading the title. He smiled sweetly before pulling his stare up to look at me. 

“Cherry blossoms, huh?” He teased, reiterating the name written on the hand cream. “That’s cute.” 

I couldn’t help but blush in response to his statement, a besotted smile plastered on my face. Everything he said and did had me swooning constantly, even an entire year later. Jake was everything I wanted and more, and moments like these had me feeling like a giddy little school girl… completely and utterly infatuated. I could only hope that this feeling lasted forever.

I extended my hand once again towards him, silently asking for him to continue. He picked my hand up in his, his gaze still fixated on me and placed a loving kiss on the back of my hand. I felt my heart soar. He began uncapping the lotion, squeezing a dime size drop on his fingers before rubbing the solution together, warming it in his hands. Before he set out to continue massaging me, he once again, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but this time with the back of his knuckle. Jake was always embarrassed of his glasses, he felt insecure about them and was convinced they made him look too nerdy, or that they would demean his rockstar aesthetic. Deep down I knew he was a little academia romantic. Due to his dislike for his glasses, he would wear contacts most of the time. However, on long nights like this, he would don the frames I came to admire so much.

I continue to tell him how pretty they make him look, and that he shouldn’t be so insecure of them, but he would brush off each remark of mine with the same witty little comeback, ‘Reading glasses aren’t very rock and roll, Y/N” he’d say in his faux British accent, a teasing smile on his face. But through the surface level joke I could tell that he really wasn’t comfortable wearing them too often and he didn’t think he looked good in them, and no matter how much I disagreed with that statement it wasn’t my place to force him into anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. If he didn’t want to wear his glasses, it wouldn’t have been right of me to coerce him into doing so. 

But still, that didn’t mean I couldn’t continue to compliment him. 

“You look so sweet in your glasses.” I sighed dreamily, my chin resting on the heel of my left hand. 

He didn’t acknowledge my statement, but I could tell he had heard me by the way an instant blush fanned the apples of his cheeks, a deep crimson over his golden skin, the faintest smile painting his pretty lips. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching the hand supporting my chin to gently trace the top of his glasses and down the side of his face. His blush still prominent, I booped his nose lightly, teasingly. He shook his head a little at my sudden movement, shaking my finger away from his nose. 

“Oh, hush you.” He chided in faux sternness. 

I giggled at his expression, drinking in his features. He continued the massage for a few more minutes, his stare concentrated on my hand, only taking a glance up at me a few times and sporting a sweet, shy smile. I, on the other hand, couldn't stop looking at him. More specifically, his beautiful brown eyes behind those pristine glasses, it’s almost as if they magnified those doey irises. 

“All done!” He exclaimed, patting the back of my hand before letting go completely. “Feel any better, baby?”

“Much better.” I smiled.  “Thank you so much Jakey, you’re so kind to me.”

“No problem sweetheart, it’s the least I could do.” He replied, a genuine smile on his lips. 

Jake proceeded to pick his book back up and unfurled the dog ear in the page he was on. I watched him for a few moments, and before he turned to the next page, he, once again, pushed his glasses up his nose. I don’t know what it was about that small act that was invoking the most inexplicable feeling within me. Was it the fact that his movements were so subtle? Was it the glasses? Was it my insatiable desire for him? Was it all of the above? 

Whatever the reason it was, it had me rising from my seat and rounding the edge of the table to come stand beside him. He could feel my presence and see me from his peripheral and turned his head to look up at me from his chair questionably. Without saying anything I pushed his chair back a tad, causing the legs to squeal as they moved across the hardwood floor. I glanced around to make sure the noise hadn’t disturbed anyone, but the library had mostly cleared out due to the late hour. I lifted the book from his hands and set it on the table, not bothering to mark the page he was on. Formalities such as that were the last thing on my mind at the moment. In one swift movement, I had swung my leg over his lap, effectively straddling him on this measly little wooden chair, a look of surprise on his face. Brushing my hands through his hair I locked eyes with him. 

“You really do look so precious in those glasses.” I repeated my sentiment from earlier, punctuating it with a kiss to the tip of his nose and then proceeding it with another kiss between his eyebrows. 

He looked up at me with a besotted grin plastered on his face and I could feel his smile when I placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Pulling away I tilted my head, taking in his features once again. I could look at him for hours and never get bored, he was so beautiful and I was completely enamored… obsessed, if you will. Without thinking I cupped his face in earnest and pushed his lips towards mine once again, this time with much more fervor and urgency. I had to taste him, I just had to. 

The way his glasses nudged against my face in the middle of our kiss made me swoon. I could hear a small moan escape through his mouth and I responded by catching it with my tongue, muffling the delicious sounds he was making. I didn’t want to wait much longer, torturing myself by prolonging the beautiful experience that was fucking Jake. 

I slid my hand down his chest, rib cage, and torso, resting on his abdomen. Teasing my fingers underneath his shirt I mimicked the massage motions he was performing on my hands not too long ago on the soft skin of his lower stomach; an action that earned yet another soft moan from the man beneath me. 

“Lemme make you feel good baby.” I pleaded, begging him to let me take him like I so desperately wanted to. 

“In the library, baby?” He questioned in concern.

“Why not? We’re in a corner, and who’s gonna walk into this section of the library at this time of night, Jakey?” I reasoned. “It wouldn’t be the first time we have done something like this in public.”

I recalled the time he’d made me cum on his fingers in last year’s Sound Engineering class. Oh, how things had changed between us since then. At least this time we were surrounded by bookshelves and unless someone rounded a particular corner, they wouldn’t be able to see us. The past year of our relationship had emboldened me… in my opinion, this was an opportunity in the making. 

He seemed to consider my words, before his expression darkened before me, “There’s my dirty little slut.”

“Mmmm, she’s not been around for a little while.” I teased, twirling a lock of his hair between my fingers.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I haven’t been able to give you as much of my time lately.” His expression looked genuinely pained.

“Shhh, none of that.” I placed my finger over his still moving lips. “Less talking, more fucking.”

He arched an eyebrow before responding, “That, I can do.” 

Then his lips were on mine once again, moving in tandem and savoring the taste and touch from each other. His hands gripped my ass, pulling me down against his growing erection. I gasped at the contact, which allowed him to slip his tongue into my mouth, dancing with my own. I ran my hands through his silken hair, before resting them on his shoulders, allowing me to rise off of his lap briefly in an effort to allow him to free his strained cock from his slacks. 

He made quick work of unzipping his pants, shuffling them just enough so that his shaft was exposed. I was glad I had chosen today to wear a skirt, I simply pulled my underwear to the side to give him access. He gripped himself in his right hand, teasing my dripping folds with the soft, weeping head. I quietly moaned in contentment, but as he inserted himself and bottomed out, the controlled noise turned into something more primal.

He clasped a hand over my mouth, before he smacked my ass the other, “You’re gonna have to be quiet for me, can you be a good girl and do that?” 

I nodded my head, starting to drool now against his fingers. He kept his hand against my lips and tapped my thigh, encouraging me to move.

“Ride me, baby.” He instructed, eyes shifting around briefly, reaffirming that we were still alone.

I began to circle my hips, slowly at first while I adjusted to the position. My thighs ached from straddling him but it was a pain I welcomed, something I haven’t felt enough of lately. I gyrated and ground myself down upon him, before switching to a bouncing motion, sliding his cock out of me as if it were the last chance I would ever have to sit upon it. His eyes screwed shut when I squeezed around him, a quiet curse falling from his lips. He licked his thumb and brought it down between us, beginning to stimulate my clit. Both of our gazes fixated on the way our bodies were joined, watching as he slipped in and out, my slick pooling out of me.

“Feels so good, Jakey.” I tried to speak through his hands, but it came out muffled.

He must have understood what I was saying, he sped up the motion of his thumb and began to buck into me, helping me fuck myself on him. The sensation was overwhelming, and given that I was very overdue for an orgasm, this one came hitting me out of nowhere. Jake helped me ride out the remnants of my pleasure, moving my hips for me with one hand now pressed on the flat of my lower back. Once the fluttering of my walls had subsided, he removed his hand from my mouth, reminding me to be quiet. His hands moved to grip my hips, before he slammed into me once, twice and then… he came inside of me with the sexiest grunt I could have ever imagined.

“Fuck.” I whispered.

“We just did.” He joked, helping me climb off of his lap on unstead legs.

“Jake? Y/N? Are you guys still here?” A familiar voice called from behind the bookcase. 

A mop of curls popped out from behind the shelves, preceding the interrupting voice. His eyes widened as he witnessed me cleaning up cum with a wad of napkins that I had shoved in my backpack from the coffee shop. Jake tucked his softened cock into his pants, clearing his throat nervously. He offered Josh a sheepish smile.

“You guys are like fucking animals.” Josh remarked, incredulously. “In the library, really?”

“Well to be fair, we haven’t had much of an opportunity to…” I began, before being cut off by Jake.

“It’s not the weirdest place we have ever messed around.” He confessed.

Josh plugged his ears childishly, “I don’t want to hear anymore. I was just wondering if you guys wanted to grab a bite to eat with Sam, Danny and I?”

“That sounds great actually.” I began to clear my textbooks up, alongside Jake.

We exited the library, Josh ahead of us as Jake and I walked hand in hand. In this moment I felt so fulfilled. I had everything that I never knew I wanted. Despite the fact that things were still strained with my mother,  I hoped in time she would come to understand why I made the choices I did. I loved my school, I loved my friends, I even loved my minimum wage job at the coffee shop. But, most of all, I loved Jake. I loved the way he made me feel and the life I was living since meeting him. I had it all and I couldn’t wait to see where life took us next. Boston really was my calling.

Fin.

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[loveoaths]

I’ve been reading through Darth Momin’s Wookiepedia entry recently and he is fascinating. Momin is considered a “Sith heretic” which, conceptually, is just…… how bad/weird/annoying do you have to be for the SITH, the biggest annoying asshole whiners in the galaxy, to look at you and think, “Yeah I’mma need this bitch OUTTA HERE ASAP”???

The answer is: pretty goddamn annoying. But I’ll get to that in a second.

His “heresy” is believing that the Sith do not control the Dark Side; the dark side controls them. They exist solely to serve it, to please it through their works and actions. He does not believe in the wanton destruction of his peers; he believes in creation. Adding to the world instead of taking it apart. Unfortunately his idea of “adding to the world” is shit like “use the Force to lock an entire city in the second before it’s utter annihilation, thus creating an endless source of pain and fear and terror to fuel my Evil Engine so I can get a good grade in Being Loved By the Dark Side, which is both normal and something possible to achieve.”

And then he fucking FAILS at it because some pesky little Jedi get onto his engine and the mere presence of light side energy distracts him so much that he EXPLODES HIMSELF. this guy sucks so fucking bad it’s unreal. I’m obsessed.

Momin thinks the Sith obsession with Jedi is stupid and irrelevant to their purpose, which is to honor the Dark Side and execute its will across the Galaxy. This school of thought appears to be unique to him, since it is considered antithetical to everything mainstream Sith believe, and it dies with him, because they ensure his name is not recorded in any Sith or Jedi holocron; his legacy is all but eradicated. This is 1) hilarious, but also 2) indicative of the accusation he levels against the Sith: they are so focused on hoarding and hiding knowledge that they undermine themselves and the efforts of their entire group, when they could be serving one goal — honoring the Dark Side — and rebuilding the galaxy in its image. This guy is technically the eclectic fringe hippie guy of the Sith, and he’s like. An art / architecture / engineering triple major with a minor in being fucking creepy.

And the reason he is LIKE this is because he got one (1) bad art review on his first sculpture — which was totally understandable considering he made said sculpture out of the family pet. And Momin decides, fuck it if y’all don’t like my work then I don’t like YOU. Also DIE.

His art (and therefore life) philosophy becomes obsessed with pain and fear. To him they are the only true emotions, the only ones that define our nature, the only emotions that matter. Sure dude. I’m sure that has nothing to do with everyone hating your art and being freaked out by you. You totally didn’t create an entire artistic vision that claims how people receive YOUR work is universal and the only purpose of art, because there is no way your art isn’t just awful and bad and nauseating. Noooo, that’s what art is supposed to be!

He also thinks Vader is a bitch, which is hilarious, because seconds after this Vader smears him across the floor.

If this guy was a doughnut, the outside dough would be Art/Stem Boy Who Tells You You Like Art Wrong and his inside would be Hannibal + Villanelle jelly.

He may as well have said “This is my design.”

Oh, and on top of being a brilliant dingus, this guy somehow conjured a door to the dark side itself, pulled his original body from it and transfered his consciousness to it (implying that he has technically unlocked the key to immortality that the Sith have been banging on about for eons), is strong enough in the dark side that a fragment of his soul can survive inside a stupid little helmet long after he’s dead, doesn’t believe in the Master-Apprentice dynamic, is a perfect plot vehicle for any time travel fic because if any bitch has found a way to the World Between Worlds it’s this guy and he WILL be making it your problem, and is somehow both one of the most unique and most exhausting Sith —

All while looking like a rejected Keebler elf.

I’m obsessed.

(Credit to @gffa for these comic images I found in the #darth momin tag!)

[league-of-sam]

Catching A Ghost | Simon 'GHOST' Riley

Ghost x Reader

CHAPTER ONE

Simon 'GHOST' Riley x AFAB!Reader!OC 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

Catching A Ghost: Masterlist

Staring out of the window in the HUM-V, you watched as the mountains rolled away, only to be replaced by miles and miles of desert and wilderness.

"(Y/N), you copy?"

"Huh?"

"I said, are you ready to meet your new team? We'll be there in the next ten minutes."

You looked at the woman in front of you, now.

Kate Laswell, your handler for the US Special Operations unit. You liked her, she always seemed to look out for you like a mother would.

"Uh, I guess."

"What's wrong, (Y/N)? I know you too well to know you're not usually quiet like this. Where's that mouth of yours?"

You smiled a little, suppressing a laugh. You did have quite the attitude, "Just more people to get to know and potentially lose. Would rather keep to myself."

"It won't happen again, I won't let it." she said, reaching over to place a hand over yours. "Besides, I think you may feel a little differently about these guys."

Raising your brow, you looked at her quizzically, but she shook her head, offering you another smile before going back to the tablet in her hand. You looked down at your fingers, fiddling with a loose string on your belt.

It was strange, not being decked out in your entire gear.

You never thought you'd say it, but you missed the feeling of the heavy vest. All you had on now was a fitted black t-shirt, tucked neatly into some dark grey cargo pants. Heavy combat boots were laced tightly on your feet.

You had a small pistol strapped to your hip, and a couple of throwing knives hidden around your body, but everything else was packed tightly into your duffel in the back.

Your mask sat on your lap; you never went outside without it.

It was your protection out in the field; if enemies never saw your face fully, they'd never be able to find you, or your family.

When you put it on, you were no longer (Y/N) Price; you were Reaper, lieutenant of the US Special Ops.

You'd heard of people wearing masks to hide their identity, and you never really thought much of it. Not like what you'd heard about the other infamous lieutenant of the SAS.

Ghost.

He was such a mystery that even his own team weren't to know his actual name. You didn't agree with that, though. How could you possibly work with people and trust them with your life, and have them trust you with theirs in return, when you wouldn't let them see your face? Or even know your name?

That's why your mask wasn't full like you'd heard his was. Yours sat neatly, covering your mouth and nose.

But then again, nothing you'd heard about Ghost was good - all of it could be boiled down to one simple phrase: avoid at all costs.

Right on time, the vehicle came soundlessly to a halt, pulling you back to reality. You'd been so deep in thought, that you hadn't even noticed that you'd gone from the desert and into a small base.

There were few buildings; a larger hangar, several old shipping containers, a small medical wing, a smaller hangar (probably the tactical room) and another more homely looking place.

"Right, we're here. Let's go, honey." Laswell said, patting your thigh as she exited the vehicle past you.

"Here we go." You whispered to yourself.

Slipping on your mask, you exited the HUM-V. Grunting as you stepped down, you slammed the door shut as the desert evening breeze whipped your hair around your face.

You hadn't seen the need to slick it back into the usual ponytail you wore, this was supposed to be an informal meet anyway.

Before you could grab your belongings, Laswell was pulling you towards the building you'd deduced to be the tactical site, and it seems your brain was correct, as usual. The door made a hissing sound as Laswell input the code, opening slowly.

The minute it was open, however, you were hit with the smell of sweat, gunpowder, and various scents of different aftershaves.

Great, it's a sausage fest.

"You know what? No- SOAP give it back!" a voice yelled, and then you saw two men run between the opening in the corridor in front of you.

The first, whom you assumed was Soap, was a well-built man, brown hair styled in a mohawk. He was maybe 6 inches taller than you at best, and clutching a green cap tightly in his hands. The one chasing after him was darker skinned, and his voice sounded vaguely familiar.

"Attention on deck, boys!" Laswell's voice came from beside you.

"Ey lads, Laswell's here!"

"C'mon ya twats, stop pissing about and gather."

Several voices sounded from around the corner, clearly excited by the arrival of their handler. She led the way, entering into a large open space. The lights were low and harsh.

There wasn't much in the room. A larger table in the middle, splattered with various papers and maps, and mugs. Over in the corner there was a small kitchen area with a microwave, kettle, and instant coffee maker. Few chairs were strewn about, and then on the other side of the room, there was a make-shift boxing ring, along with other small gym equipment.

You followed silently behind Laswell, so much so, that the men gathered around the table did not notice you as she arrived next to them.

"Brought you boys a gift."

"Your presence is gift enough, Laswell." A gruff, southern accent sounded.

You'd know that voice anywhere.

That was when your head snapped up, and you took a good look at the people standing before you.

The man chasing after Soapjust now was Gaz, who swiped his cap from Soap's hands, giving him a glare as the other man laughed.

Next to him was Alex.

Two Hispanic men you weren't familiar with, stood on the other side of the one that spoke before. And in the back, approaching from the other side in a black hoodie and a plastic skull mask was him, Ghost.

Shit.

You were on a task force with Ghost.

"So, where's this gift-" Gaz started.

"Who's the lurker, Chief?" Ghost spoke, cutting him off with a little hostility, arriving at the side of the man in the bucket hat.

You raised your eyebrow, impressed that he'd even spotted you in the shadows.

"As you well know, this mission is of the highest priority. Shepherd wants it done on the down low, keeping it tight and clean. Lucky for us, I have the perfect person to ensure that happens." Laswell said, turning to beckon you over.

It seemed you'd done a good job hiding, because every face around the table warped in shock and confusion, following Ghost's eye-line to you.

Slowly, you stepped out from the darkness, flicking your hair from your mask, and walked toward them.

Laswell turned, offering you a smile, and your eyes glanced over your new team once again. You locked eyes with Alex, who had a huge smile on his face, while the others stared, each of them very unsubtly checking you out.

Laswell waited until you were next to her to speak again.

"This is Reaper," Laswell introduced you, "she's your new lieutenant."

You gave the group a small wave, smiling under your mask. Gaz returned the wave, as did Soap, while the others nodded to you graciously.

"Impressed you clocked me." you spoke to him. "I guess that makes you Ghost."

He only grunted, giving you a small nod, and folded his arms over his chest.

"Another weirdo in a mask, huh?" the bucket hat said. You glanced at Ghost long enough to see him roll his eyes and shook your head.

"That's funny." you rolled your eyes, "Of course you'd shit-talk it when it's you I'm protecting, big brother."

You glanced around the room before peeling off your mask, running it between your fingers. No one said a word while Price looked you over in disbelief.

"Wha- fucking hell!" he said, before moving as quickly as he could to tackle you, "(Y/N) what the fuck-"

You giggled, placing your hands onto his face, moving your foreheads together for a moment before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He lifted you off the ground, arms locked around your waist tightly.

"Alright, big guy, put me down now."

"I can't believe your 'ere, (Y/N)."

"I can't believe you still have the fucking mutton chops." You joked, making the others laugh.

"Lads, this is my little sister, Lieutenant (Y/N) Price." He said, throwing an arm over your shoulder and turning your bodies toward the table. "And apparently, she is the famous Reaper we've been hearing about lately."

"In the mask I'm Reaper, when I'm without it, just call me (Y/N)."

The moment you stopped speaking; the pleasantries began.

Price was all but shoved away from you to make way for the men that wanted to greet you. Having known Gaz through your brother, the two of you shared a loving reunion. Alejandro introduced himself and Rudy, kissing your hand lightly as he spoke to you in Spanish. You spoke back, and he was impressed by your fluency.

Ghost did not move, barely acknowledging your presence, and so Soap was the last to greet you.

He sauntered over, copying Alejandro in kissing your hand, greeting you smoothly in his thick Scottish accent. Despite your best efforts, the attention made you blush a little.

"Why the name Reaper?" Soap asked, smirking at you.

"Because she's fucking deadly." A voice sounded behind him.

"Sergeant Keller, aren't you a gorgeous sight for sore eyes." You said, looking at the brunette standing opposite you.

Everyone turned to look between the two of you, confused.

"Lieutenant Price." He nodded back to you.

"Missed me, partner?" you smirked, looking at him as the professional demeanour diminished from you.

"Baby, you know I've missed my little angel of death." He spoke, his American accent all the more obvious around the Brits.

He moved around the table, scooping you up into his arms, hugging you tightly as the others watched, confusion etched onto their faces.

"And you know my sister, how?" Price spoke up, his protective side already rearing its head.

"Calm down, John." you giggled, leaning into Alex's side, "Alex was my trainer when I moved to the Special Ops in the States."

"We were partners back in the day. I trained her up, and now she outranks all of us, well, except you and Ghost."

"Wait, this is your best friend, Alex?"

"Yes, John, this is best friend Alex."

Price frowned, and you groaned, "I thought that Alex was a girl."

"Sir he's right there, at least call him a lass behind his back like the rest of us." Soap said.

Alex tossed a crumpled piece of paper at him, making the room erupt into laughter.

They got along well, maybe it would be different this time.

Laswell broke up the conversation then, jumping straight into the reason you'd been brought to the 141.

You'd been tailing a dangerous terrorist, Hassan Zyani, with your old team for months, and had expert intel on his movements and possible whereabouts.

As you filled the team in on what you knew, they all watched you intently. Price had a proud smile on his face, kind of the same as Alex.

One brother by blood, one brother by bond.

Gaz listened, shifting on his feet, he'd been so excited to see you again.

Alejandro and Rudy conversed with you, often asking you questions or confirming your intel with their own.

Soap, well he stood strong, one hand hooked into his jean pocket as he constantly looked you up and down.

"Hey, eyes up here, sergeant." You warned, a small hint of amusement in your voice.

"My apologies, L.T." he smirked.

A quiet scoff came from behind him, and you looked to see Ghost, already staring back at you.

It seemed you were the only one to have heard it, as the others spoke amongst themselves for a moment. You could barely see his eyes under that mask, and it was intimidating. You were certainly thankful for those that warned you about him.

He was a little scary, and the way he clocked you so easily as you snuck through the shadows put you on edge.

This was gonna be one hell of a ride.

a|n: hey guys! hope you're loving the fic so far. i originally posted this over on my wattpad and wanted to share the love here. please feel free to reach out to me and share your thoughts!

[mysteriesofmarcy]

#8: Truck Stop Polly

One of the less creative episode names, but seems like they poured most of that creativity into the episode itself.

This one started the whole "Polly being homesick" arc that later came up on the return trip in Night Drivers.

This episode is a lesson in "Be careful what you wish for, because it just might come true," aka Malicious Compliance from the universe. That moment when Polly realizes that the family left without her, and just immediately went "Well, I guess I live here now. Startin' over from scratch. I don't know no one, and no one knows me." That moment made the episode -- figuratively (it was the best moment in the episode) and literally (the entire episode was centered around that one point). Plus, it's a good depiction of how to not panic if you do get lost. (Although come to think of it, it was actually mostly Hop Pop's fault for not doing a head count to make sure everybody was in the f'wagon before he took off, especially since he left so quickly after they were done in the bathroom.)

I was really impressed by the depiction of the truckers. Not sure how much they could realistically be carrying or how fast they could realistically go, with the vehicles being what they are. But the way they showed the truckers themselves, from what I can tell, was very realistic. It would have been easy to just play them off as the "dumb jock" stereotype. They probably asked real life truckers to describe their job for this episode. I have mad respect for that.

And then there was the star of this episode in Soggy Speedy Joe! Although he was often used as a plot device, this guy is one of my favorite side characters (not at all because I share a name with him). Everything he does is comedy gold. I have to wonder though, how did he get the bee wool for his truck? Because I don't know if you've noticed, but bees in Amphibia are enormous and aggressive, just like the rest of the insects.

A very creative episode that just screams "Road Trip", this one has to be included in your rewatch even though it is... to put it lightly, not very plot heavy.

[vexinghearts]

I previously had an obsession with Lucas Baker from Resident Evil 7 , right ? Ok. Well I was going to write an ENTIRE ONESHOT about him ( like early 2022 ) and I had. Uhm- I never finished it and don't want to finish it , so here it is for you guys! Also I never even got to the part where the reader meets Lucas 💀

TW : Cringe af

Working with The Sewer Gators was kind of frightening, especially when we visited the more rundown buildings. Though, I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the adrenaline I get when running away. Today is the day that we visit the Baker house in Louisiana.

I had heard rumors of the house and the family that used to live inside, though, none were believable. One woman had said they were all dangerous and that they had criminal records.

I decided I would humor the idea of this and visited websites that could show me public criminal records. As I had suspected beforehand, none of the bakers had any records of violent behaviors.

Though, I found a few accusations against one of the Bakers. He was the son of Jack and Marguerite Baker, Lucas Baker. He had been taken to court, but because he was still a minor, he would have gotten an easier conviction, had he been announced guilty for the disappearance of a classmate of his.

The Bakers won that case.

Before that he had been accused of killing animals around the town. The Bakers lost that case and the son, Lucas, had to get a psychiatric evaluation along with 6 months in a juvenile detention facility. I couldn't get the result of the evaluation because of Hippocratic Oath.

All in all from what I have found, Lucas Baker was definitely viewed as the bad seed of the family. Looking at the clock on my wall it was 9:37 PM. I started panicking.

"Fuck, I have to hurry!" I shouted running around my apartment and collecting the few things I needed. I grabbed a shirt, a pair of pants, socks, shoes, and perfume. I grabbed my phone and rushed to my home screen, expecting notifications of several missed calls.

But I didn't have any notifications of missed calls. I looked at the phone with confusion, until I swiped the top of the screen down. It was only 7:29 PM and it wasn't even dark yet.

My face grew warm from embarrassment as I put the phone in my side pocket.

"I can't believe I keep believing that clock." I muttered with annoyance.

I turn to my computer and debate whether or not I should keep searching for information on the Baker family. I decided to spend about half an hour researching before I chose to leave my house.

I have to help the new camera-man with his camera. I heard from Andre that his name was Clancy.

I grabbed my keys and walked out to my vehicle. Putting the keys in the ignition and starting it up. Buckling my seatbelt, I back out of my driveway and started my trip to the studio

By the time I got to the studio Andre and Pete were standing beside each other discussing what they would do if police came to the Baker House. Another man was standing farther to the left of them.

I walk up to the three men, quickly introducing myself to the third man.

"Hello, you must be Clancy?" I asked with a smile. He must've been nervous talking to the men, because when he started talking with me, he got more comfortable. It made me feel nice to help him have someone to share opinions with.

"Okay, are we all ready to leave?" Pete asked as he looked at the three of us.

"Yea-!" Clancy had tried to say something, but I quickly put my hand over his mouth. He looked at me with furrowed brows and I smiled at him. Pete had chuckled a bit and got in the passenger seat, Andre sliding into the driver's seat.

I moved my hands off of Clancy's mouth and wiped it off on my shirt.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked as I started climbing into the van. He followed in and slid the door shut.

"It was a rhetorical question." I said as I buckled my seatbelt.

It would take, at least, a good half an hour to get to Dulvey. I decided to lean my head against the window and take a quick nap.

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

POV : 3RD / A / R

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

After Andre had pulled into the dead end where the Bakers used to live, He and Pete had climbed out of the van. Clancy unbuckled himself and got out himself. Andre slid (Y/N's) door open and shook them lightly.

"(Y/N), get up, we're at the Baker House." He said and let go of (Y/N's) shoulder.

(Y/N) opened their eyes slowly and yawned. They stretched their body and unbuckled themselves. Their legs felt numb from sitting in the van for half an hour, so they stumbled forward. They stumbled into Andre who stood there as their support.

"Sorry, Andre." They said standing up straight. Andre smiled and said that it wasn't a big deal. They sighed in relief and stayed by his side.

Clancy had been standing behind them all setting up his camera. When he turned it towards his crew members, Pete was up close in the camera startling Clancy.

"Boo." He said, though backing up rather quickly.

"Where did you find this guy?"

"Give me a break, Pete."

"Hey! I only work with professionals. Speaking of which, make sure the sound is right this time!"

When (Y/N) heard Pete say what he said they chuckled remembering the Amarillo event.

"Yeah, we don't want a repeat of Amarillo." (Y/N) teases. Andre whips his head towards (Y/N) and glares.

"That was two fucking years ago." Andre said with a friend on his face.

"I don't do ADR." They said close to bursting with laughter. When Andre is annoyed, it's usually because of Pete nagging him. (Y/N) walked towards Pete and stood behind him.

He looked at (Y/N) and said "This new guy? I'm not feeling it." They looked at him with confusion.

"Again?"

"Just don't be surprised if we have to make a change."

(Y/N) rolled their eyes and crossed their arms. They looked behind themself seeing Clancy and Andre stepping onto the porch.

"We do a walkthrough of the inside first, then shoot the intro." Pete said putting his hand on the door knob.

"Just like we always do; just try to say the show's name this time." Andre says getting behind Pete.

"Sure. Tonight on Sewer Gators ; Another worthless hellhole-- Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

Pete grabs his flashlight from his pocket and turns the head of it until the light is on.

"Are we rolling?" Pete asks looking at Andre. He didn't say anything, but instead stood there quietly. (Y/N) spoke up.

"Yes, Pete, Clancy is rolling."

Pete doesn't bother looking and nods instead. He twists the doorknob and puts pressure on the door. He side eyed the camera. He tried again and it didn't work.

(Y/N) decided to intervene and pushed him aside.

"Hey, (Y/N), what the hell!?"

"Be quiet, Pete, I'm helping." They spoke. They leaned close to the door and twisted the knob. The door didn't open. (Y/N) resorts to twisting the door knob and pressing their body against the door. They shoved their shoulder against the door causing them to fall forward.

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

POV : 1ST / (Y/N)

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

The fall knocked the breath out of me. "(L/N), are you ok?!" I heard Pete ask. I felt the thump of one of the men's knees hit the ground.

END

[the-bau-quinjet]

Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

-

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

-

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

-

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

-

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 20

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

The boys are trying their hardest to find you. And you are trying your hardest to find out more, to find out why you are so important. 

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

Chapter warning(s): Kidnapping, hint of violence. 

“W-What do you mean gone?” Namjoon was the first to break the silence.

“She was talking to some of our employees. Then she went to the washroom but never returned. They found this placed behind the stack of hand towels.” Jin opened his palm and all the boys saw your wing charm. The one that was supposed to be on your bracelet.

“So, she was taken?” Jimin asked in disbelief. His words made all their stomachs sink, this was their worst nightmare. This was supposed to be the perfect night for all of you.

“It’s obvious she was taken. She left this there for a reason.” Hoseok pointed to the black wing charm.

“There are hundreds of people here. Someone must have seen her. Namjoon, can’t you get access to the cameras? This is your building.” Yoongi asked.

“Let’s go.” Namjoon nodded and led everyone back in.

“I need access to all the security cameras. Now.” Namjoon commanded. The manager nodded, hurriedly bringing the 7 bosses to the security room. Taehyung sat down, typing away.

“Look out for her.” Jin said.

“There!” Jungkook pointed. You were being escorted out by a group of people, walking calmly to not attract any attention. But it was obvious that someone was pointing a weapon at your back to push you forward. For a split second, you turned to the exact camera the boys were watching, meeting eyes with the lens. The boys held their breaths as they watched.

“No...” They watched you get into a car and the car drive away into the night.

“Call a meeting. Now.” Yoongi growled, slamming his palm onto the desk. The boys were quick to move, exiting the small room.

“We’ll get you back.” Taehyung whispered, placing his palm against your face on the screen. Pursing his lips in determination, he ran out of the room to assist his brothers.

“We’re going now. Run the license plate number and put out a notice to our allies.” Namjoon ordered. Their car pulled up and they jumped in.

“Every enemy of ours is a potential suspect.” Jin said.

“We have thousands of people who want to kill us! It might be too late by the time we go through everyone. There has to be a better, more efficient way!” Jimin said impatiently.

“Give doc more credit. She is smart enough to survive a lot longer than we think. Besides, they won’t be so dumb to kill her off quickly. They’ll definitely come into contact with us to give us demands or make us do something for her to safely return.” Yoongi stated, crossing his arms.

“Young masters.” The maid opened the door for them.

“No more visitors. The house is on lockdown until further notice.” Hoseok ordered and the maid nodded, running off to inform the other workers of the house. The boys went to the other wing.

“As expected, the plate is of an old vehicle. It was meant to be scrapped last week.” Jungkook said.

“Get in contact with all your underground informants. Someone must slip somewhere. See if anyone has heard anything.” Namjoon sighed.

“I’ll go meet mine first.” Jungkook grabbed his coat, leaving the house once again. The boys tried to busy themselves but there wasn’t much they could do with no clues. 

“We can hardly see their faces.” Hoseok pointed at the screen, rewatching the footage from different angles. 

“We shouldn’t operate here. Let’s use ‘Magic Shop’.” Jin said. Magic Shop was a shared business between the 7 boys. Like the name, it had everything they needed. Information usually passes through there.

On your side...

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar place. You looked around to scan the area, it was a small concrete room with an old bed in the corner, a small barred window to the right and two doors, you guessed one led to a bathroom. Your hands were tied in front of you, ankle chained to the wall, and there was a dull ache at the back of your head. You remembered what happened. 

You were finishing up in the toilet when you heard the door open and footsteps enter the washroom. From the heavy stomp of footsteps and heavier breathing, you knew whoever entered was male and not female.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come out. We know you’re in there.” A gruff voice sounded. You remained silent but you knew that this can only go on for so long. As quiet as possible, you tried to get your phone out of your clutch to reach the boys but there was unfortunately, no signal.

“We’ll break the door down.” They threatened.

“Okay, okay. I’m coming out.” You sighed, hand resting on the doorknob. When you stepped out, you looked up to see two men that you’ve never seen before.

“Let me at least wash my hands first.” You raised an eyebrow. They looked at each other before nodding. You washed your hands with soap, not even meeting eyes with them.

“Are you done?” One growled in annoyance.

“Yeah.” You picked up a hand towel to wipe your hands then tossed the used towel into the bin.

“You’re gonna walk calmly, out of the building. If you dare do anything else, it’ll be the end for you.” You felt cold metal press against your lower back. You nodded as one opened the washroom door for you.

“Go.” They pushed you forward. As you left the washroom, you side eyed the gleam of a gem under the light. You only hoped that the boys would see it. No one suspected anything as you walked out of the building with two men behind you, one standing suspiciously closer than the other. A car pulled up to the steps of the building.

“Get in.” They opened the door. Turning around, you caught sight of a security camera, staring at it for a few seconds before the men impatiently pushed you into the car, slamming the door shut.

As the car drove, you tried to remember where you were headed or at least, some landmarks.

“You guys didn’t blindfold her?!” The driver finally noticed you. The male that was sitting next to you pulled out a blindfold, getting closer to you.

“Get away.” You tried kicking him.

“B*tch!” The male squirmed when you successfully manoeuvred yourself to get him in a chokehold despite the small backseat. But you had forgotten about the other person in the passenger seat.

“Sleep tight, princess.” There was an impact to the back of your head. Black spots appeared in your vision and soon, it was dark.

“Look who’s awake.” One of the doors opened, a bright light shining into your darkroom. You winced slightly at the sudden brightness hitting your eyes. A suited male came in, walking towards you. You stared up at him but the shadow made it impossible. 

“Nice to meet you again.” He said, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“Do I know you?” You groaned. 

“How could you forget me? I’m hurt, doc.” 

“Well, if you didn’t know how light directions work, the light makes it a little hard to see your face. All I see is a shadow now.” You hissed with a glare. Then he bent down and you saw his face. 

“Recognise me now?” He smiled. 

“Not... really?” You tilted your head. His smile fell from his face as he frowned. He backhanded you, waking you fall to the side. Your cheek throbbed and you tasted iron in your mouth, knowing that you were now probably bleeding. 

“Look, I’m sorry you’re butt hurt about me not recognising or remembering you. But I meet new people every day. If everyone is like you and expects me to remember them, my job would be a lot harder than it already is. Stop being petty.” You growled. Usually, someone in your position would be more submissive, considering you didn’t have the upper hand. 

“Ever the smart mouth, doc. Let’s see how long you can keep that up.” He threw his head back, laughing. 

“I also wonder how long it will take for you to realise that kidnapping me and holding me captive isn’t going to do anything.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, doc. Ever so naive. What you don’t know is that with you being here, my boss already has control over your 7 mafia bosses. They’re probably scrambling and panicking to find you.” He said. 

“I’m just an employee.” You shrugged. 

“That’s what you think. You think every employee has a diamond bracelet like you?” He asked. 

“I never really cared, it was just a pretty bracelet to me. But I’m sure you’re about to tell me how important that is.” You said in a bored tone. Under playing everything was now your plan. 

“Only the 7 bosses have that bracelet. It’s a sign of their highest rank. And guess who’s the 8th person to ever get one?” He smirked. You didn’t let it show but deep down, you were surprised. You never really noticed the bracelet on the boys. Because like you said, you never really cared or gave it much thought. 

“So trust me, they’ll be here.” He scoffed.

“Hold on, I’m still trying to understand, so you and/or your boss is the enemy of the boys? You’re not from one of the families I cared for?!” You asked. 

“Oh, doc.” He shook his head, laughing. 

“Man, talk about shallow...” You rolled your eyes. The man just waved, heading for the door. He slammed the door shut, leaving you in darkness once again. You sighed, looking down at your dress that was now dirtied. 

“Who is he?” You wrecked your brains to try and remember. 

“The guy at the casino.” You finally remembered the incident that happened when you first had dinner with the boys outside, at Jin’s casino. 

He tried to speak to you as you were coming out of the washroom and it ended with Yoongi escorting you to the car while the others ‘dealt with him’. Though at that point, you didn’t know what that meant. Now, you imagined how the boys must have given him a ‘stern warning’, for him to have such bitter feelings towards you. 

“Talk about holding a grudge.” You sighed. 

“No wonder they didn’t want me to remove the bracelet. Some VIP treatment this is.” You wondered out loud. You needed to find a way out of here, you couldn’t just sit and wait to be rescued. 

“Let’s see.” You brought your bound hands up to your mouth, hoping to be able to use your teeth to try and loosen the knot. 

“Here. Eat.” The door opened, making you put your hands down quickly. It was one of the men that kidnapped you from the ball. He held a tray and a bottle of water in his hands.

“Is it poisoned?” You looked at him skeptically. 

“You never know until you try, right?” He raised an eyebrow, placing the tray in front of you. 

“Just eat!” He hissed impatiently. 

“You take a bite first. You eat it, I eat it.” You shrugged. The man was given strict orders to make sure that you ate. And all you were doing now was making his job a lot more difficult. He glared at you but you just stared back nonchalantly, not backing down either. 

“It won’t be poisoned. We’re waiting for the 7 to come. If you’re dead, there’s no use in all this.” The man scoffed. 

“If it’s not poisoned, then eat it.” You said. The man closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. You knew you were being infuriating but your attitude was the only thing that you could use as a self defence now. 

“I swear.” He scooped up the rice and kimchi, taking a bite. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You said. The guy clicked his tongue, undoing the rope around your hands to let you eat. He took a seat opposite you on the ground, but keeping his distance. 

“This food is sh*t.” You took a bite. 

“Well, it’s all you’re getting so learn to like it.” He crossed his arms. You sighed, eating your food in silence. 

“Alright, I’m done. I might actually throw up if I continue.” You scrunched your face, pushing the tray. The man took the rope to bind your hands again. Seeing the gun holster on his waistband, you knew it would be foolish to try and fight back to escape now. So at this moment, you just had to be obedient and do whatever they told you to do. 

“Ugh.” You threw your head back, trying to get the stiff kinks out of your shoulders and neck. You stared at the metal brace around your ankle, that was gonna be hard to get out of. 

-

“Where’s Taehyung?” Namjoon asked when he came back from his meeting. It was safe to say that thanks to their parents, Namjoon and Yoongi had the most ‘ears to the ground’ in the group. 

“He went for a breather.” Jimin informed softly. 

“We need to think this through. Doc hardly meets anyone with us... Or at least, ones who are alive.” Hoseok said. 

“I’m going for a meeting.” Jin looked at his phone. He stood up and left with his bodyguard in tow. 

“Hyung is right.” Jungkook started a fresh document to list down the times you went to visit any of the boys’ place of business. Most of the time, the boys tried to go home for you to treat them since most of your equipment was at home but of course, there have been urgent times. 

“She came to mine. But the person was dead.” Jimin raised his hand and Jungkook noted that down. The door opened and Taehyung came in. He dragged his bloodied bat on the ground, falling onto his seat. 

“Where were you?” Yoongi asked. 

“Just needed some fresh air.” Was all the younger said. Taehyung didn’t deal with emotions well, which is evident considering what happened with his father. 

“Anyway, we’re listing down the times doc came to our place of business to maybe find out a time where our enemy might have seen her.” Namjoon got his up to speed.

“Did you forget she doesn’t even know that she wears our family band around her wrist?” Taehyung asked. 

“Did she not even notice?” 

“No, she didn’t even know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to her at the club the other night. She thought it was just a nice gift. I told her the gist of it but she probably thought that most, if not all, our employees have one too.” Jimin informed. 

“Whatever it is. We’re all just trying to form at least a list of suspects. Every option, we’ll try it.” Yoongi said. 

“She hasn’t been to Stigma or Singularity before. I usually handle those businesses outside and try to go home to get treated by her.” Taehyung crossed his arms.

“Stop looking at that.” He saw Jungkook still had the paused video of you staring at the camera on his computer screen. 

“Let him be.” Namjoon chided. 

“I got video footage from Daydream.” Hoseok informed. His place was one of the only one that the car could have possibly driven past. If they did, they would have a general direction of where you went. 

“Hook it up to the screen.” Jungkook handed Hoseok the cable to hook his computer up to the screen and he played the footage from the night before. He carefully skipped forward the seconds, they couldn’t risk missing something. Everyone was quiet, their focus on the video footage in front of them. Jimin stood up from his seat. 

“There. Fast backwards 10 seconds. Slow the video down.” He pointed. Hoseok moved the video back. In the slowed freeze frames, they saw the exact car drive past Daydream and take a left.

“Hobi, where does that road lead to?” Yoongi asked. 

“Uh, the car slanted left. That leads to the highway... Up north, I think.” Hoseok pulled up the map. 

“Yes. That highway heads north.” Taehyung said. Finally, the boys felt like they had a breakthrough. The kidnappers probably held you captive somewhere up north of Seoul. 

“Who are the clans in the north?” Namjoon asked. 

“Here they are.” Jungkook flipped through the photos on the screen. 

“It is one of them. No one else would let another gang on their territory, knowing that they kidnapped one of ours. Unless they want an unnecessary war on their hands.” Yoongi said. Even if they did have enemies, a lot of gangs would rather be an ally instead. Bangtan was just that scary. 

“I’ll call Jin hyung and let him know.” Jimin took his phone out, stepping aside to call the eldest, letting him know what they had found out so far. 

It only took 20 minutes for Jin to come back, unsuccessful from meeting with all his informants. No one had a clue as to who was vengeful enough to kidnap you from Bangtan. 

“We’ll start visiting some of them. You guys fill Jin hyung in on what’s going on. It’ll be faster if we split up to visit the gangs.” Taehyung said.

“Okay. Don’t be reckless.” Namjoon said. Jimin nodded, a silent promise to keep Taehyung in check. Grabbing what they needed, the duo left ‘Magic Shop’ immediately. 

“Show me the photos.” Jin said. Once again, Jungkook pulled up the photos. 

“Hold on. Go back.” Jin stopped the maknae. Jungkook clicked the slide, going back to show the photos of the leaders and righthand men from one of the gangs. Jin moved closer, squinting slightly. 

“That guy... Don’t you recognise him?” Jin pointed. 

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked. 

“We’ve encountered him before. That first dinner with (y/n) at my casino. He harassed her outside the washrooms. Jungkook came to rescue her in time and Yoongi took her away before he could reveal anything. We didn’t kill him since we didn’t want to make anything too obvious yet.” Jin frowned. The others finally remembered. 

“But she didn’t have a bracelet yet.” Hoseok reminded.

“From the way Jungkook sprung to protect her... They must have been keeping tabs on her.” Namjoon concluded. 

Just then, the phone rang. 

~~

Ko-fi link

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[fckwritersblock]

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should’ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

—————————-

Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen

[sincerelyella]

My Person (Liam x MC)

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Song Inspiration: My Person by Spencer Crandall

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella) Summary: A one shot of my favorite couple - it’s Liam and Ella’s anniversary and there are big plans in store.

A/N: Okay, I’m gonna be very honest, I am super nervous about posting again. I wrote this maybe last week and kind of finished it earlier today. Thank you to those that I vented to about actually posting my stories, not sure why I feel really sick right now. New blog name (used to be @callmeellabella), new post LOL and I didn’t really know who to tag since it’s been a long time so I’m using my old list. Please let me know if you want off.

A/N2: Participating in @wackydrabbles​ this week. Prompt will be in bold.

Thank you @alyssalauren​ and @ofpixelsandscribbles​ for reading through this for me and kind of handing me that invisible paper bag for me to breathe in. Love y'all!

Warnings: Fluffs. A lot of fluffs.

Words: 1658

Isaiah and Noelle grinned as they filmed their parents in the seat in front of them, holding hands. After 15 years of marriage, Liam and Ella were the epitome of the best partners to each other and parents to their children. There were rough times, of course, you can’t escape those, but the King and Queen handled things in stride.

Noelle’s eyes filled with tears when she watched her dad lift her mom’s hand to his mouth and kiss her knuckles. The way he looked at Ella, like she was the only woman in the world, made Noelle have very high standards for a future partner for herself.

Isaiah grew up knowing how you were supposed to treat a woman, and it was all modeled from how his dad treated his mom. At 15 years old, he grew up in the public eye, but thankfully, his parents allowed him to have a normal childhood. The only time there was mention of royalty was a gala or a ball held at the palace; his Uncle Leo, Max, and Drake as well as his Aunt Olivia and parents all dressed up.

It was their parent’s anniversary that day and Liam had planned a family dinner, just the four of them.

One week ago

“Hey guys,” Liam smiled as he watched his kids sitting at the kitchen island doing homework.

“Hey, dad.” “Hi, daddy.”

Liam hung his keys on the wall by the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Next week is mine and your mother’s anniversary.”

Noelle and Isaiah stopped what they were doing and met their father’s gaze.

“I … was hoping you could help me with something,” his brows rounded as he stared at them.

“Sure, what did you need?” Noelle asked.

Isaiah chewed his bottom lip. “No pranks though, right dad?”

Liam chuckled, remembering that anniversary and how it went … so wrong. “No, son. No pranks. Plus, your Uncle Maxwell is not invited until later.”

Present-day

“Guys, we’re here,” Liam turned to Noelle and Isaiah and widened his eyes at them, the two nodding back with small smiles. Ella missed the entire silent exchange as she climbed out of the black SUV after Bastien opened her door.

Everyone piled into the restaurant, all of them laughed and cried as the kids asked for a cake to be presented to their parents to celebrate their special day.

“How beautiful,” Ella wiped her tears away as she gazed at the red velvet bundt cake covered in cream cheese frosting. “Was this your doing?” She turned to her husband as he smiled.

“No, love, that was them,” he gestured towards Noelle and Isaiah.

“Thank you,” she used a tissue to dab at both her eyes.

“Fifteen years is a long time to be married, ma,” Isaiah dimpled as he looked from his mom to his dad. “Now hurry up and eat it so that we can have a piece!”

The family laughed and dug into the cake. An hour later, they slowly stood from the table, grumbling about how full they were.

“Oh God, why didn’t you stop me?” Isaiah smacked his sister in the arm.

Noelle glared at her brother and punched him in the arm. “It’s not my fault you ate like you never saw food before.”

“Why did you say that?” Isaiah whined.

Liam and Ella walked behind their children, smirking at each other.

“They’re so dramatic,” Ella snorted.

“Wonder who they got that from?” Liam arched a brow at his wife.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Your Majesty.”

“Love,” Liam waited until she turned to look at him. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Where? What is it?”

“Come on,” he tugged on her hand and led her out of the restaurant and into the waiting SUV.

“Where are we going?”

“Ma, just wait, we’ll get there in a minute,” Noelle giggled in the back seat.

“You guys know too?” Ella looked from her son to her daughter and back again. “Liam?”

“Just relax, love, we’ll be there soon,” he squeezed her hand and laughed as her nose wrinkled in annoyance.

A few minutes later, Bastien turned into a small, private area for vehicles to park. “We’re here,” he said and turned to smirk at Ella. “Your Majesty, we’re going to blindfold you.”

“You’re … what?!”

Isaiah cackled as he leaned forward to wrap a scarf around his mother’s eyes.

“That’s blocking my nose,” Ella complained. “I can’t breathe.”

“You can breathe out of your mouth.”

“Isaiah Alexander,” she said sternly and he jumped.

“Sorry mom,” he mumbled as he fixed the scarf so it only covered her eyes.

“Okay,” Liam opened the door to her side of the SUV. “Come on, love, I’m carrying you to our destination.”

Ella let out a long sigh and reached up to feel her husband’s neck. She allowed him to carry her bridal style to … wherever they were going. When her family got like this it was usually because of her husband, who loved to take her places to surprise her. She didn’t mind, honestly, but it was annoying when everyone was in on it except for her.

“We’re almost there, love, I promise,” she felt Liam kiss the top of her head and she snuggled into his shoulder.

“Hey, I got a picture from Uncle Max!” Noelle opened the message and gasped.

Isaiah reached for his sister’s phone. “Is it another picture of him and his peacock Lady and the Tramping some spaghetti?”

Everyone began to laugh.

“I can’t believe that damn thing didn’t peck his eye out,” Ella snorted.

“That thing still scares the crap out of me,” Noelle said as her fingers flew over the keys. 

“We’re here,” Liam smiled as he began to step down onto the large rocks towards the private beach.

“Don’t drop me, Liam,” Ella said as she lifted her nose to the air. “I smell the ocean.” She felt her husband lower her to the ground. “What now? I’m still wearing this.”

A moment of silence and some giggling in the distance made Ella furrow her brows.

“Okay, take off the scarf, love.”

Ella quickly undid the knot and opened her eyes; she faced the ocean. “Liam, what-”

“Turn around.”

As she did, she saw her husband on one knee, her children behind him in the distance carrying an old 1989 boombox, the song My Person by Spencer Crandall playing.

I was lookin' for a long time

I never found nobody like you

I got your name, got your number

And we talked 'til they turned on the lights

“A boombox?”

Liam smirked. “You made me watch Sixteen Candles.”

“Oh yeah,” she chuckled. “Liam,” Ella had tears streaming down her face and she wiped them away quickly. “Wh-what is this?”

He took hold of her free hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Love, it’s our fifteenth wedding anniversary. We married that long ago.”

She nodded, the lump on her throat making it difficult for her to speak.

“But we were together before that,” he smiled up at her. “I met you and I was done for, I haven't looked at anyone else since. You came to my social season, I chose you, we were engaged for a year, and then here we are.”

My person

My heartbeat

My slow dance

My Sunday-morning-sippin'-on-coffee in bed

My know-when-you-know best friend

“You’re my person,” Liam bit his bottom lip to control his emotions. “You and the kids are my everything, and you know I’d give all this up for you if you asked.”

“We don’t want that though!” Noelle yelled and they all laughed.

“Ella Brooks Rys, I wanted to ask you if you would remarry me,” he reached into his pocket, pulled out a black velvet box, and opened it. “Renew our vows and our commitment to each other.”

The box held three rings, an emerald-shaped, 6-carat diamond solitaire in the middle, and one plain platinum band on each side of it. One was engraved with Isaiah Alexander and the other with Noelle Marie.

“Of course,” Ella choked out as Liam smiled and the kids jumped up and down.

My saving grace, my everything

I’ve never been more sure that you’re my person

Every minute is a long time

If I ain’t holding on to you

Liam pushed all three rings onto her finger. “You ready, Mrs. Rys?”

“I am, Mr. Rys,” she pulled her husband to her and captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

“Ew, gross!” “Stop! This is not part of the plan!”

“Congratulations!”

Ella was surprised by that last one and turned towards the sound. All of their friends and family were there on the beach, smiling at them.

“What are-”

“You guys are renewing your vows!” Leo hollered and lifted a bottle of champagne in the air. “Let’s get this going so we can get druuuunk!”

“Leo!” Liam snapped at his brother.

“I mean, I’m ready when you are.”

Hana and Olivia rushed towards Ella and hugged her. “Were you surprised?”

“I was,” Ella sniffled. “You guys all knew?”

“Yup!”

“My little blossom! You are so beautiful! Let me see the rings!”

Ella gave Max her left hand.

“Whatever you do, don’t let Beaumont touch it. I’m sure he’s got lasagna all under his fingernails,” Drake chuckled as he approached the group.

“Hey marshmallow,” Ella turned to hug him. “And you guys had lasagna without me?”

Liam laughed and put an arm around Noelle and Isaiah. “You guys ready?”

They both nodded.

“I’m ready to marry your mother again,” they all laughed as Ella put her arm around Isaiah. “Let’s go!”

My saving grace, my everything

I've never been more sure that you're my person

Yeah, baby, you're my person

[soulmate-game]

I was feeling angsty. Read at your own risk, there is very little comfort in this and a whole shit ton of hurt. Probably a bunch of emotional triggers, so seriously be careful guys.

—*—*—*—*—*

Liquid pain ran down her arm like poison, the slash in it burning hot and spreading it’s agony like an invisible waterfall inside her flesh. But she did not grip her bicep where the wound had been inflicted, her gaze blank as she forced herself to hide her turmoil behind glass eyes. Her brother’s snarling face was only inches in front of her own, his katana moving from her arm to her throat.

“Useless! To think we share any blood relation is humiliating!” He growled at her. She did not move, did not emote. Her blades fans, the weapon she was loved most, lay half-opened on the ground beside her. Abandoned. But she knew Damian’s sword would not kill her. Blood family was a bond that was not to be severed by murder unless ordered by Ra’s or justified by the murdered family member in question betraying the League. She had done nothing to betray the Shadows, and Ra’s would not waste time and energy, or the breath it would require, to order her death. Just as he would not waste the precious waters of the Pit to bring her back again. She would not die today, and she knew it.

Sure enough, it was only a few more insults in various languages before Damian Al-Ghul stepped back and scowled down at the blood on his blade. Her blood. “If you don’t even have the stomach for real combat, you do not belong here,” he spat.

“That is where we agree, Grandson,” Ra’s sharp voice echoed through the room, his beady eyes never once bothering to glance at his granddaughter. “Maria, you are hereby stripped of the name Al-Ghul. Banishment from the League is the only mercy you shall be granted for your dishonor on our blood. Be useful and use whatever is left of your mistake of a life to stay out of the League’s way. Shall I, Damian, or your mother ever see your face again, your burial will follow shortly after. Am I understood?”

“Yes Gr— yes, Ra’s Al-Ghul.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Maria Al-Ghul was seven years old when she was disowned and sent away from the League of Shadows without so much as a penny to her name. She was only allowed to take the change of clothes she carried, and one small backpack’s worth of items. Her mother— Talia— had watched vigilantly as she packed those items, assuring that Maria did not take anything of worth.

The girl traveled by foot, too small to get away with driving a vehicle. Unless she could manage to steal a motorbike— she knew how to adjust the seats and pedals on most models to accommodate her size. But she was far too far away from civilization for that.

She knew that most of the League expected her to die in the jungles that surrounded the temple. After all, there were ninjas scattered throughout it with strict orders to kill anyone who was not one of them. And Maria now fit that description.

But if there was one thing Maria knew better than anything else, it was how to hide. How to hide feelings, intentions, involuntary movements, or her whole body in almost any setting. She covered herself in mud, matted her hair with dirt and took off her shoes. Barefoot was always quieter, and her feet would be more sensitive to any change in terrain. She would have to move more slowly and be on the lookout for traps, ground litter that could harm her, or dangerous wildlife, but she would be much harder to track.

It took her a month, but she made it to her first Tibetan city alive and decently healthy. She begged for food for a day before snatching a child’s outfit off of some hanging laundry lines and stealing the first decent vehicle she found. It was an old moped, but it beat walking and was already built small. She made it work.

That was how she spent the majority of the next year. She traveled from town to town, stealing what she needed until she could earn money normally. She used that money to buy herself a fake identity, even if she had to use the skills she had hoped to never need again in order to afford it.

Marinette Shiwang was born when she was already eight years old.

It was only a year after her new identity was created when she bumped into a woman in a street market. That was nothing new, those places could get crowded. But when Marinette looked up and saw valuable bracelets and necklaces of gold and jade, she knew she needed at least one. The money she would get for it would have her living comfortably for a short while. So Marinette’s theft-experienced fingers darted out and unclasped one bracelet in a fluid movement. It took less than a second. She barely had the piece of jewelry in her hand before she started to take off, hoping to lose herself in the crowd.

But a small hand clamped around her shoulder, a sturdy thumb pressing against a very vulnerable spot right at the back of Marinette’s neck, at the base of her skull. A clear threat from somebody with experience.

The sweet voice that followed didn’t match the gesture at all.

“Oh, I need that back dear. It was a gift from my husband, you understand.”

Marinette did. She cared about survival more. The small girl twisted, knocking the hand away from her before it could do damage and darting down a side street. The woman followed. It took three hours, but Marinette decided she had finally lost her pursuer before slumping down in the tiny, closet-sized bedroom of her cheap apartment. Her eyes closed for only a second before the window opened, and the smell of newly-baked sesame buns filtered through.

It was the woman and a much taller, much more masculine man. He was practically a giant, reminding Marinette of a certain member of the League that she used to know. They were both smiling.

“My wife figured you would be more open to an exchange than just giving up the bracelet for free,” the man’s voice was deep and inviting. “You can eat as many buns as your stomach can handle, if you give it back.”

Marinette accepted. Mostly because of her fear for people who could track her to her home so easily, when she had been certain she had not been followed. The League has tuned her senses well, there was no way the couple had been close enough to see her when she made it to her apartment. Yet they were still there somehow. Then, it also had to do with the promise of food, and the heavenly smell of the food itself. And then, lastly, Marinette was tired. She didn’t like stealing, it was just a necessity. She would not hurt these people over a mere bracelet that she wished she didn’t have to take in the first place.

Useless, she thought. So much of a bleeding heart that she just gave up what could have paid for two months rent. Too soft to even protect herself. The Al-Ghuls has been right. She was a waste of space and time.

Marinette was ten years old when she became a Dupain-Cheng. Somehow, that strange, dangerous couple had become her new family. Not even she knew how. But she was grateful— they took her back to Paris with them and she didn’t have to worry about rent, or food, or money anymore.

She vowed, that day that she received her spacious attic bedroom, that she would repay them. She would make herself useful, for the first time in her life. She would stay out of their way, be the perfect most unobtrusive daughter ever. She would help in the bakery, keep a smile on her face so that they never doubted that they were doing a good job. So that they never wasted time worrying about her. She smiled, and laughed, and became successful for them. Competent and reliable even though her memories would sink into her dreams every day and make it near impossible to drag herself out of bed in the mornings.

And then, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng was thirteen, she was given a pair of magical earrings and a tiny fairy-god. And Tikki was thorough, at least. Diligent in her explanation. Marinette listened to every word, dread seeping in as she doubted her ability to carry out such an important task. Save a city? Defeat someone much more experienced and magically powerful than her?

Useless little Maria could never. Slightly less useless Marinette could never.

She was only ever meant to play a support role. Stay on the background and make everyone else shine, without ever succeeding in anything worth noting. That was who she was.

But then Tikki gave her the Warning. The catch that came with the Ladybug abilities, and Marinette felt the long-rusted determination in her begin to fire up again. Maybe she could be Ladybug. Maybe she could be useful, at least this once. At least for just this one scenario. She could fight and win the war against Hawkmoth, and that achievement alone could make her happy. Let her die knowing she did something worthwhile.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian Wayne was seventeen when he and his family found out about the Paris Situation, and immediately went over to offer help. Damian Wayne was seventeen when he watched Ladybug stumble at the sight of him, and immediately run away. But the two of them were twins, and though twin telepathy might be a myth they always did have a certain instinct when it came to one another.

Damian Wayne was Seventeen when he said, aloud on the top of a random Parisian building and surrounded by his family—

“My sister is Ladybug.”

Damian didn’t wait for their reactions, having entirely forgotten about the existence of his father and brothers, before taking off after his spotted sibling.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I knew you were alive.”

In hindsight, those probably weren’t the best words for him to say when Maria clearly thought he was still an assassin.

Damian watched as Marinette spun to face him, her face so much more expressive than he remembered. He could actually see the resignation in the slump in her shoulders, he could feel the fear in her bluebell eyes. The eyes she was lucky enough to get from their father while he was cursed with their mother’s green irises. He used to envy that about her, especially after joining the BatClan. But now he only felt comfort when he looked into her eyes. Comfort that she was different than him, and always had been. In the best of ways.

He watched as his sister was enveloped by a bright flash of pink light, detransforming right in front of him. And without the mask, it was impossible to ignore the relation between them. She had their father’s eyes and nose where he had their mother’s, but other than that they were almost carbon copies of one another. Her blue-black hair was pulled back into twin braids though, something he noted distantly as oddly fitting. They suited her, he thought.

But all those thoughts instantly turned to dust as she dropped to her knees in front of him, head bowed in complete submission.

“Tom and Sabine are innocent,” she told him. “They adopted me out of nothing but goodwill, and they have been nothing but good to me. I never told them a single word about my origin, I swear it on our blood. They think I am just an orphan that was abandoned in Hong Kong—“

“Maria—“

“—so please, don’t harm them. I’m begging you. And there is no need for you to waste energy killing me. You are welcome to stay in Paris as long as no harm comes to Tom and Sabine, but just wait and watch. I know who Hawkmoth is, and our final plan is almost ready. I’ll have him taken down by next week. Just— wait until then, please. My death will take care of itself afterwards, but Paris deserves to be free, and killing me now will set this entire war against Hawkmoth back by at least a year. And I also need that time to pick my successor—“

“Maria! I am not here to kill you!” Damian had to yell to get her to stop babbling and begging. She froze, but didn’t dare to sit up or even raise her head. So Damian took the initiative and sat down on the ground with her, though he kept his distance so that he didn’t scare her too badly. He couldn’t blame her for her reaction, it had been ten years since they had seen one another and their parting hadn’t exactly been pleasant.

But he had changed a lot since then, matured a lot.

“I am completely disconnected from the League,” he admitted. Of the blurry memories he had of her, he did remember that being blunt was the best way to handle information with her. Beating around the bush had always done nothing but make her exceptionally nervous and jittery. Sure enough, his admission was enough to make her look up at him with disbelieving eyes. He risked a small grin. “I didn’t come in my old uniform, did I?” He gestured to himself in the bright Robin colors. Sure enough, Marinette’s rapid blinking proved his theory that she hadn’t even registered his clothing at all to be true. She had run as soon as she recognized his face.

But Marinette did not speak. She sat up a little, still eyeing him cautiously. But her silence helped him finally realize where they were— where she had led him.

The sounds of traffic and other big city noises were all muted, as if muffled by several layers of cloth. Shadows fell over them abundantly, and they were surrounded by dilapidated concrete walls.

She had brought him to an abandoned area far from any activity, where a body would take ages to find. She had then disarmed herself of her only weapon, her magic suit, and had gotten on the ground in total submission.

She had purposely given him the perfect setting to kill her, where there would be no witnesses and plenty of time before her body would be found for him to escape. That realization hit Damian square the chest, leaving him breathless for a moment.

“I am not here to kill anybody,” he reiterated, his voice noticeably much gentler than before. “Not you, not you adoptive parents, nobody. I left the league when I was eleven. Mother—“ he took a breath, but Maria deserved to know. “— she cloned me. Her clone killed me. He no longer exists, but that is of no consequence. She killed me, she and Grandfather disowned me when I made it clear I was not returning. Father— our father,” he was insistent as he leaned forward, not continuing until she met his gaze. “You remember who our father is, right? Bruce Wayne? Mother had dropped me off to be raised with him when I was ten, but of course it was all just one of her plots. It was her miscalculation though, because I ended up growing close to them. To Father and his adopted children. You would get along with Gra— with Dick, the best I think. Although T— Jason would also be a prime contender as your favorite brother, I think. He shares your love of motor bikes, if that hasn’t changed?” She just stared at him, clearly confused and experiencing a lot of feelings at once. He stayed silent for a moment to allow her to sort through them a little.

“I’m Robin now,” he made his voice quieter, but still easy for her to hear. “I’m a member of the Bats. I’m sure they would all welcome you, if you chose to meet them. Though be warned, they can be quite in—“

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette’s voice was barely above a whisper, Damian almost didn’t hear her. But he did, and fell silent. He watched as his sister licked her lips and tried to find the right words to say. “If what you say is true… you have a perfectly good family. Brothers, Father, a comfortable life. Why follow me then? Why offer me… any of that?”

Damian frowned. He didn’t remember Maria being so gloomy, but then again she had been raised to never show her emotions. Maybe, after years away from the temple like him, her true feelings were just easier for him to see now. Closer to the surface.

“I want to get to know you— to get to know my sister, again,” he told her. “Don’t tell them, but Father and the others have taught me to appreciate family. The way I treated you when we were children was not right, and though it was heavily influenced by Mother and Grandfather, I want to make up for it nonetheless. Maybe we can get to know the new us, together?”

Marinette’s eyes went wide with disbelief, but then she clenched her jaw and shook her head.

“We can’t.”

“... right, I understand if you do not forgive me. I didn’t even consider—“

“It isn’t that,” Marinette was quick to correct him. “When I said that my death will handle itself, I mean it, Damian. The Ladybug… the earrings that give me my powers, come with a price,” she absently ran her fingertips over the unassuming black studs in her ears. “If a Ladybug uses the miraculous for more than three years, the powers of Creation will demand to be balanced. Already, the Miraculous is powering itself on nothing but my life force now. Once I defeat Hawkmoth, there will be no need for Ladybug anymore. The moment I take the earrings off, they will cease keeping me alive.”

Damian’s face fell. No— no, that wasn’t right. He was finally able to find her, finally able to apologize and try to fix his past mistakes. This couldn’t be how the reunion went. This couldn’t—

“Not even the Lazarus Pits can bring me back from a Miraculous death,” Marinette went on. “So you and your family should go. You don’t need to be here when I—“ Marinette paused, gasping. “Damian, why are you crying?! Stop that!” Her voice became desperate, Marinette crawling over to him as quickly as she could and wiping away his tears as if they were something terrifying. Damian wasn’t sobbing or making any noise, it was just a silent stream of tears running down both cheeks as he stared at her wordlessly.

“I…” he finally managed to choke out. “I wanted to make up for everything. I wanted for us to be twins again, together.”

Marinette paused, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I know a magic user who can erase your memories of me,” she offered. “But you don’t have to feel guilty for anything. You never said anything that wasn’t true.”

Damian’s green eyes widened. He had said nothing but cruel things to her, that last year they spent together as children. Did she really believe all of that? Did he and their childhood really affect her self worth this severely and irreversibly?

“Maria—“

“My name is Marinette, actually,” she corrected him with a small smile. “I’m not Maria Al-Ghul anymore. Marinette Dupain-Cheng is actually useful, Damian. I can actually do things right— I’m doing something right right now. Beating Hawkmoth will be the first worthwhile thing I’ve ever done, don’t you see? Once it’s all over, I will have brought honor back to our blood. I’ll have proved to you that I really am your twin, that I wasn’t a mistake. That I was born for a reason,” Marinette’s eyes got dreamy even as Damian just felt like he was impaled again, this time by a spike of ice rather than a sword. “And I’ll be able to die before I ruin it. It’s a perfect scenario.”

“A perfect scenario implies that nothing important is going to be lost,” Damian breathed. Marinette just blinked.

“Yeah, I know. That’s the plan. Defeat Hawkmoth, save Paris, and nobody dies.”

“But you’re going to die!” He growled. Marinette leaned back, bewildered by his violent reaction.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I actually matter. Nobody needs me. Tom and Sabine might be hurt for a while, but they will recover just fine. And it’s not like I have friends or any—“

“Stop worrying about other people, damnit!” Damian surged forward, grabbing her shoulders hard enough to bruise and shaking her a little. “Even back then! Even when we were seven, you threw down your blades because you were more worried about hurting me than you were about how Grandfather would react, even though you knew he would be tempted to kill you for what he thought was cowardice! You never put yourself first, and it’s finally starting to piss me off!”

“Damian—“

“No, listen to me!” He shook her again, his tear stained cheeks only making his glare all the more potent as he stared right into her eyes. “You are alive, and your life matters! You were never worthless or useless, you just didn’t fit what our abusive situation wanted of you. They wanted a cold hearted killer, a tool they could use, and you were always too warm hearted and clever to fit either of those goals. But I did, I was the killer they were looking for and the pawn they wanted. If anything, that makes you better than I ever was! I was too young and naive to see it back then, but I’m trying to make up for it now. You are my sister, whether you go by Maria or Marinette, Al-Ghul or Wayne or Dupain-Cheng, I don’t give a damn! And so help me, even if I have to surgically attach those earrings to your skin, I am not letting you die before you gain at least a modicum of respect for yourself. Do you understand me?”

A wet sniffle met his ears, and he pulled Marinette in for a hug. She returned it weakly, sniveling and sobbing into his cape.

“D-d-Damian?”

“Yes, Shaqiqa?”

Another sniffle.

“I-is it really o-okay for me to stay with you?”

“Of course.”

“I-is… is it really oka-ay for… for me to live?”

Damian’s arms tightened around her. “Always. Always, always.”

Marinette buried her face into his shoulder, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“Th-then… I wanna try.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Not sorry. Ha 😎

[babytaes]

the grim reaper(my home)

summary:  Everyone depicts the Grim Reaper as a bad character, but he didn't kill you. It's just a trip to the afterlife, and he's actually being helpful by walking you there. Consider what it would be like if you had to travel alone. As she battles through life, Jay meets an unexpected figure, yet she doesn't seem to be terrified of him when he comes knocking on her door, why?

paring: jay x female reader

genre: angst, slight fluff

word count: 6k

warnings: profanity, ummmm rock chic jay.

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

I wish that everyone knew how their lives ended. It's essentially a game of guessing what will happen to you. Don't even get me started on the subject of Heaven and Hell. You've heard it all, the misery and the heinous methods in which people go out.

But why did death come knocking on the door at such an early age? You'll never know why they chose this age.

You didn't have your entire life laid out for you, nah, what a waste. Seeing it, however, was strange.

Well, there's him, or whatever entity they're referring to. The Grim Reaper.

You didn't notice him until things began to go wrong for you. A black object flashed in and out all of a sudden.

It was more predictable than unexpected.

Usually you would see him after work but I guess he had other plans. Despite your exhaustion, you flopped down on the couch and pulled out your phone to conduct an online search.

You giggled as you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and eventually peeked up to see a dark figure seated across from you.

As you laid your phone down and peered at the figure, you said, "So he finally wants to show his face."

“Don't tell me you can see me right now?” he cocks his head and looks about before returning to you.

“Well, I've only seen glimpses of you for the previous few weeks, but now I'm seeing you in all your glory.”

“Shit” As he hurriedly shot back into the dark shadows behind him, he widened his eyes.

“Wait a minute, don't leave.”

He was still there, hidden from view. He wasn't ready to leave yet. As you moved over to the door, you rolled your eyes at your phone and grabbed your apron. As you put your shoes back on, you exclaim and awkwardly wave your hand in the air before closing the door.

“You better be here when I get back, and keep in mind that we have business to discuss."

He rolled his eyes at your strange conduct as he smiled gently before vanishing back into the dark abyss, now entirely gone from your home.

---

“So Jay, what's on the agenda in Reaper business?” He noticed his old acquaintance gleaming at him as he peered up from his chair.

“Well, Jake, the previous several weeks have been a complete nightmare. They paired me up with this tough guy who was fighting for his life. As he continued, he rolled his eyes.

“It's been quite tranquil since they reassigned me to another case, but something strange happened today. I inadvertently made myself obvious to her, but she was unconcerned.

“Weird.” Jake shook his head and cocked his head to the side as he called out to him.

“So, two pieces of information I just got: it's a girl, and she appears to be somewhat odd. When you get back, I'd like to hear more about this."

As you put on a strange expression, he smiled at the boy as he spoke about jobs he had recently gone on.

“Yeah, there's something odd about it,” 

“I also—wait a minute, Jay, I recognize that look.” Jake pauses in his speech for a moment as he approaches you and analyzes your body.

“Please, dude, take a step back.”

He hears on the intercom times for a meeting today for all Reapers to attend, and he laughs at you. Jake makes a peace sign as he hits the door's slab and vanishes from view.

Sitting back in your chair, you raise your feet and begin to formulate a strategy.

“What am I doing here? I'm a doer. Let me just return to her and have that conversation she requested.”

He steps into form and vanishes back to the house he used to be in, softly cheering to himself.

Surprisingly, he can hear your voice but not yet see you, so he emerges from the shadows and takes a stroll through your home, taking in your life.

He saw photos of dogs and people he assumed were family and friends, as well as one thing that attracted his attention.

As he approaches it, he enters a familiar room and sighs as he makes his way to the gleaming object. It was a bracelet with scribing on it of some type.

When he reaches out to pick it up, he feels a searing feeling and drops it swiftly, muttering a torrent of curse words.

“What the hell was that?” When he looks closely, he notices symbols that resemble a cross.

“Fuckin Christ,” 

“Do all Reapers barge into your house and search through their belongings on the spur of the moment, or is mine defective?”

Jay, who has jumped up in panic, apologizes by turning around and raising his hands. When he glances up, he notices you resting on the door frame, arms folded, staring at him.

“Well, let's just put this inconvenience behind us and have that conversation you wanted to have, hmm?”

“All right, let's go into the living room, and by the way, your style is really fashionable. I had no idea you people dressed up so well to steal souls. Are there any employment openings?”

As he comes to a halt in his tracks, you turn your head to face him and stare at his unmoving form.

“Hellooo, please don't tell me they gave me a defective one. Jeez”

For a brief moment, everything came to a halt as Jay regained his bearings. "That was strange. Why am I blanking out because she's so strange?”

With a shake of his head, he smiles at you and walks into the living room, where he sits across from you, still perplexed as to who and what you are.

It wasn’t human-like.

“Thank you, no one seemed to realize that the original reaper gear wasn't cutting it for me. Also, I'm presuming you're a young adult, so you know what I'm talking about.”

You pull closer to him, laughing at his words, and lay your elbows on your legs, intently listening to him.

“So Grandma was right, you guys do exist. Tell me more; you know I don't appear to have much time left, so give me your answers.”

He let out a chuckle as he hastily covered his mouth, daring not to be affected by the earth.

He'd been doing this work for quite some time and appeared to be quite confident in himself and his abilities.

But there was something about you that made him feel comfortable and at ease, and he didn't feel like he had to hide, very apparent when a patient screamed at him or when they insisted death hadn't arrived yet.

It was strange, but it was great not to have to put on a show. Outside of the Reaper, he almost forgot who he was for a moment.

Maybe this one could get to know you, the cool yet elegant Jay. Not the dark version of himself. Even if his ultimate goal is to accompany you to the hereafter.

Maybe, just maybe, in that slim possibility, he'll take advantage of this opportunity to learn more about this person and why they're so interested in you.

---

“Before we jump right into this game, I have a question for you: why aren't you terrified of me?” As he stared at your blank expression, he spat out.

“Well, as I already stated, my grandma was a firm believer in the unknown. Even though she is no longer with us, she has taught me a great deal about the supernatural and unknown.”

You got up and walked over to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow you before opening the refrigerator and taking some fresh fruit out.

Jay promptly stood up and walked over to the chair, where he sat, watching your every move as you leapt onto the counter and turned to face him, before placing a mango slice into your mouth.

“All right, my turn, what's your name and what's my illness?”

Jay coughed and sat up straight as he removed a piece of paper from his pocket and read it loudly before setting it down.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you've been diagnosed with Heart Disease, and things aren't looking well for you. I know you haven't been to the doctor in a while, which is also perplexing. And my name is Jay.”

You place the fruit down next to you and cross your legs before responding to his comment, shaking your head up and down.

“Well, that's true; it runs in the family, but I'm not concerned because time is never on our side, and we all have an expiry date, which I believe is approaching soon. Right?”

Jay knew you just had one week left, but he didn't want to break your cheerful mood, so he waited.

“Well, I can't tell you when you'll die just yet, but your time is running out. I'm sure it's terrifying, but-”

Before concealing your lips, you chuckle loudly. Jay snickered as he looked up at you.

“Man, you're such a strange person; how do you manage to be so confident and direct? I'm becoming a little afraid, and I'm the Grim Reaper.” You leap from the countertop and walk over to him.

You cocked your head to the side and placed your hands on his face, pushing your face towards him. As you smile, his face flushes, and as he pulls away from you, he coughs before moving his hand to encourage you to continue.

“You have nice eyes, you know. Okay, now I'll tell you my story. Instead of countless questions, I believe it would be simpler.”

He just nods his head and lets you continue talking about your life.

---

As we all crossed the bridge into the next city over, you glanced out the window at the water. You'd always enjoyed being near water. It brought up memories of trips you and your grandparents took together.

When you arrived at your location, you grabbed your suitcase and exited the vehicle, leaving your parents behind.

“Are you sure you don't want to join us?” As they drove out of the parking lot and onto their vacation, you shook your head and waved farewell to them.

Even though you were 17, you still enjoyed going to your grandparents' house because it provided a sense of security that you didn't have at home. So you'd take them in a heartbeat.

Looking up, you notice Pops standing at the door, arms outstretched, waiting for you.

“There is my favorite grandchild.”

“Gramps, I'm your only grandchild,” you said, laughing as you took him in your arms and grinned as you stepped into the house.

“Oh, that's right.” He takes your stuff and starts to take it to your allotted room while laughing together. “Your Grams is out back,” he shouts as he approaches the top.

‘Thanks” When you walk out to the backyard, you'll find her sitting in her iconic chair, surrounded by books, muttering to herself. She puts the book down and leans in to hug you as she stands up.

“Aww, I've missed you so much. There's just so much you can talk about with your grandfather before he falls asleep. Please have a seat; we have a lot to discuss."

There's a sensation you've been missing, a sense of belonging to a place you once called home. They were the only ones who could supply you with a sense of safety and security, and you couldn't get enough of it.

“We talked about witches and wizards the last time we were here. Now we're dealing with Reapers, or more precisely Grim.”

When she stated those two words, your eyes lit up; it was a favorite topic of yours that she brought up frequently, but now you had more time to delve deeper.

“Let's get started; we've got a lot of ground to cover. Allow us to see The Unknown by opening our eyes. “Are you wearing your bracelet?”

“I never take it off,” you say. You shook your right arm and returned your hand to hers, shaking your head.

As you were swept away in a dark mist together, you grinned and took her hands in yours. Even though they appear to be ordinary, decent folks, there is something you should know about my grandparents. They are one of many people who have gained entrance to the supernatural realm, a place where anything is possible.

You tried to inform your parents, but they were skeptical of fairy tales. They tried to prevent you from seeing them, claiming that "they will stunt my growth," which is ridiculous because I've learnt more from my grandparents than from my parents.

Regardless of how hard they tried to stop you, you always managed to find your way back to them. We were linked, and nothing could stop you until YOU chose to let it. That day, however, never came.

You found yourself in a boat, holding your grandmother's hand, as it carried you across a vast chasm and into town. You come upon another boat that appears to be some kind of creature with a scythe. As he traveled down the river opposite you, strands of golden hair protruded from beneath his hood.

“Wait, don't tell me that person on the river was you now that I think about it?”

“I think it was, man, that was a long time ago,” Jay laughed and shook his head. Also, I had no idea you had access to that world?”

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the story.” As you spoke, he grinned.

“All right, honey, let's go; we can't linger for too long.” You both stepped off the boat and walked into town, taking in the sights. As you climbed the slope, merchants' stands and buildings crept up on you. It was weird to see individuals of all kinds here, going about their daily lives in the same way that those on the surface did.

You see vampires, werewolves, angels, and even ghouls all lingering together and with one another as you walk side by side with your grams. Despite the fact that they all had their own lives to live, they could join together to gather supplies and meals.

What a wonderful thing

You both entered a familiar building, and your grandma greeted the old man behind the counter.

“Oh, my favorite customers. What brings you down here and how is life above the surface? Another book you have in mind.”

Your Grams smiled as she let go of your hand and approached the man at the front of the bookstore, “you always know Melvin.”

As they conversed, you strolled through the big store on your way to the second floor. Before reaching the top, you yell out to Melvin.

“I'm hoping you'll let me take one.”

“Anything for my sweet Y/N, go ahead and look, there's a new one up there.” You hurried up the steps and across to the Book Wall, grinning ear to ear. From baby dragons to spell books, there was something for everyone. Anything you can imagine Melvin’s shop had it all.

When you took one off the shelf, you were greeted by a young boy who stood next to you. You couldn't tell if he was your age since down here, time moves at a different pace than it does on the surface. Still he looked quite young.

It was pleasant to see the creatures up close, even if you had never met them before. You stepped away from him, afraid of his reaction, and made your way to the chair sections. You sat down and picked up a book titled "The Origins of Reapers."

“How did you get here? I've never seen a girl human down here before.” You looked up from your book to see the boy you'd seen previously, frightened that he'd do something. You closed your eyes and shook your bracelet in front of his face.

As he waited for you to settle down, he laughed and sat next to you.

“I'm not going to harm you; all I wanted to do was ask a question. My name is Jake, what is yours?”

“My name is Y/N, and my grandparents have access to the world, so I tag along occasionally, may I inquire what you are?” you said slowly as you sat up straight.

He shifted in his seat and grinned, his face more dog-like. How could you be afraid of him?

“Well, don't be afraid of me since I'm a Grim Reaper in Training. I'm fairly innocuous. It's nice to see a human down here; normally, we only see humans when it's their time.”

You hear your grandmother calling from downstairs before he can continue.

“Coming”

You return his gaze and apologize as you rise, book in hand, and make your way to the stairwell.

“It was a pleasure to meet such a lovely human; please pay a visit to the Reaper Realm when you return. Simply request Jake.” He gave you a wave before yelling at Melvin.

“I'm leaving Melvin; my book is on your desk up here.”

As you return your attention to Jake, you hear Melvin's remark, but he vanishes into thin air as you descend the steps. Your grandmother expresses her gratitude to Melvin for the choice and exits through the front door.

“Are you all set to depart, sweetie?” With a shake of your head, you bid Melvin farewell as you close the door and return to the boat, where you sit down and take your gram's hand in yours.

"Let's go home," says your grandmother.

---

“So yeah, I've been traveling there with them ever since they introduced me to your world.” You came to a halt in the middle of your walk and coughed, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“My grandparents died a few years ago, and I haven't been back in a long time because I used to only go with them. It was doubly difficult because they both died on the same day, and she was telling me that she could see him on that day. I'm hoping she meant the Reaper, because they were the last thing to see them leave.”

You grabbed his arms on the spur of the moment and violently shook them.

“I know you must have records someplace, but could you please assist me in locating them as part of my dying wish? At the very least, let me see where they went; I need to know if they're okay.”

So this was the true you, the one in desperate need of a reconnection with the Gone. You received your response and devised a plan.

“Hey, don't worry... I'll see what I can do.  But there's no guarantee. I wasn't on the case at the time, so I'll have to do some digging, but I'll try.  “Can you tell me their names?”

Wiping tears from your eyes, you rose from your chair and dashed to your room, calling him over.

When you opened a box from under your bed, there were wonderful memories from you and your grandparents inside. You attempted to obtain more, but everything was returned to the Underworld, leaving you with only this.

Jay knelt down and picked up a photograph of you and them. They were regulars, and he had seen them around town. Hopefully, in the short time she had left, you could help her.

“Elizabeth and Albert Marvin were their names. I'm not sure if there's anything else I can do to assist you, but please do your best." As you hurriedly covered your mouth with your palm, a harsh cough came from your throat, and your chest began to throb as you placed your hand on your heart.

It was obvious that time was not on your side. You rise off the ground and walk over to Jay, looking up at him. You wrapped your arms around his frigid body, engulfing him in a hug.

Jay stood there awkwardly with his arms down as he gently moved you off and returned to the couch area.

“Like I said, there's no guarantee that I'll find them, and who knows, they could not even be alive. But I’ll try my best. It was a pleasure to speak with you, but I must depart because we are running out of time.”

He gave you a beeper before vanishing.

“Please page me on here if you need to reach me; I'll do my best to respond. You look after yourself.” 

You waved farewell as he left your house and returned to his, where he continued his exhaustive investigation.

He didn't want to let you down because he felt such a responsibility to you. He would complete whatever task he was given. He would do anything for you if he could see that smile on your face.

“Let's get down to business.”

---

 “Jay...Jay wake up” As you awoke slowly from your arms, you felt a push on your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the bright light, it took some time to figure out who was interrupting you.

“W-What exactly is it, Jake?” You and Jake have been coming in every day for the past five days, attempting to find a solution to your problem. Jake may have discovered something despite the difficulties.

“So, I just had an epiphany,  last time I saw Y/N she was at Melvin bookstore, so let's see if he knows anything about them.” You leapt from your chair and snatched a jacket as you ushered Jake out the door and toward Melvin.

For you and y/n, things were starting to look up.

Maybe you were going to do something good for one of your friends souls.

As you and Jake approached Melvin's business, you inhaled deeply and opened the door, eager to hear what he had to say to you.

Melvin's attention was drawn to the bell sound, and he looked up from his spectacles, saying, "Hey youngsters, what brings you here?"

“Well, we had a question for you regarding an old friend of yours, does Elizabeth Marvin ring a bell?” He pulled a photograph from his back pocket and presented it to him; his face darkened as he held the photograph in his hands and smiled broadly at it.

“Oh, my favorite customers. I don't have much information, but the last time they were in here, they were in a hurry and seemed concerned. “We have to make the crossing,” Elizabeth kept emphasizing.

As you and Jake turned to each other, you both had a frightened expression on your faces.

“Don't tell me they took the Crossing, shit,” says Jay You turned around and proceeded towards the door, thanking Melvin, while Jake grinned and waved farewell before heading out the door. He discovered you slumped against the wall, head down, groaning.

“Jay, please don't thin-”

“Keep your mouth shut Jake, because you know no one survives the Crossing without a guide. There are just too many wicked spirits out there, and you and I both know that getting to the finish is impossible. Jay growled as he stood up and kicked whatever was closest to him.

“Ugh, why did I do that?” 

Jake approached his friend and patted his back, unsure of how he would react. It was a small gesture. He knew it was impossible, but he didn't want his best friend to know. They still needed to be encouraged.

“I'm going back to headquarters to see what else we can find; meet me back there, okay?” As he watched Jake go from his sight, Jay nodded and thanked him for his assistance.

He didn't know what else to do, so he had to break the dreadful news to you. It turned out to be for the best. He was good at one thing: conveying bad information to others. What an ironic Reaper. With a shake of your head, you prepared to go to Y/N's flat.

Here goes nothing.

Jay was gone in a flash of dust and now stood in a familiar location, squinting as everything appeared to be different. Jay spotted clothes strewn on the floor, dishes scattered in the sink, and the bathroom's random lights flashing.

He was so preoccupied with the status of the house that he didn't see that your time was slowly eating away at you, that you were holed up under blankets in the bedroom with chest discomfort and dizziness that came and went.

Your once-young body was losing its ability to hold on to life. As you coughed loudly and grinned as you motioned for him to come over to you, you looked up and noticed him standing in the doorway.

You quietly sighed as you slowly climbed up, your hand resting on your chest.

‘So-so any news captain. “I need something to take my mind off the pain.”

As he prepared his message, Jay didn't make eye contact with you as he lifted your blanket over your body and patted it down. This felt different than relaying bad news as the “BIG AND BAD GRIM REAPER” As he was going to burst your bubble, something inside ached. What do people refer to it as? Sadness.

What exactly did you do to him?

“So, Y/N, please wait until I finish before you speak.” He took a big breath and continued, his lips curling in. “We've at a dead end; Jake and I spoke with Melvin, who indicated they were discussing the "Crossing," which in Grim Reaper lingo means "no go." That's a place where no one ever returns; it's only conceivable if you have a guide, which I'm not sure they did. They could be lost or worse, stolen by a spirit, for all I know. I-, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure.”

He heard your voice and looked down, avoiding eye contact. "It's okay Jay,"   He jerked up and glanced at your frail form, perplexed and terrified. In the light of your candle, he could see better, but death was creeping up on him. He just had a day  before he had to take you. He wasn't pleased with the situation or with you.

“It was a big ask, but I'm happy you and Jake did your hardest,” you said, a tear streaming down your cheek. That's all I requested, and despite the fact that it didn't work out, I liked the gesture, so thank you.”

“Thanks for doing business with you,” you said with a grin on your face as you extended your hand to him. As you looked him in the eyes, he took your weak hands in his and gently shook them.

“What, do I have something on my face? I don't want to appear unkempt.” You laughed and reached for your hands to be unlatched from his grip. Rather than releasing go, he drew you closer to him and kissed your gentle lips.

As you released each other, he wasn't thinking; in reality, he was panicked.

“Um- I don’t know what that is but I have to go. Sorry, I'll pick you up tomorrow-” “Please don't go,” you said as you took a big breath and clutched his hand. If I'm being honest, I'm afraid, and I could use some companionship before I take my final breath.”

“Sleep well y/n, we have a long walk tomorrow,” he said as he sat down on the bed and took your hand in his again before turning off the lamp. When you felt a squeeze in your palm, you smiled and laid over, allowing sleep to take control.

---

You were startled awake by Jay, who sat across from you, peering at the clock, as though intently staring at it.

You scooted up and waved a hand in front of his face to grab his attention, but he continued to stare at the clock.

“You have a few hours left, you know? Sorry, I was just doing some math." He turned to face you as you stumbled out of bed, grasping the bedside table before lifting yourself up like a drunk woman.

“Oh, well, it appears that my body is shutting down. Fun.” As you pushed him out of the room, you gave him a thumbs up.

“Let me get dressed; I want to look my best for when I DIE!” Jay was startled and furrowed his brows as he walked slowly to his seat, pondering why this generation was so eager to die.

You put on a cute hoodie your grandmother gave you and threw on some pants. As you fumbled about for shoes, you heard Jay ask a question from the other side of the door that made you pause.

'Are you going to call your parents or someone else?'

When you think back on your life, you were in theirs, but not much of them were in yours, which made you resentful of them. You didn't dislike them; you just preferred to spend your time and energy with people who made you feel at ease.

Your grandparents made you feel that way and you didn't have time to waste on people who you could care less about.

“I guess I'll send a text over.” Huffing, you took out your phone and entered your message into an already-created group chat.

"Hey guys, I'm not feeling well, could you come tomorrow?" you say.

(read 10:25 a.m.)

(typing bubbles)

(bubbles disappears)

Mom: This is such a last-minute thing, but your father and I are leaving tomorrow for a business trip that will last a week. Maybe when we come back. I'll send Sylvia over because I gave her the day off. “Be careful.”

Throwing your phone you yelled aggressively as you looked around your space. Even while you're dying, they don't give a damn about you. What is fucking family anymore?  You took one final look at your bed before stepping out and calling Jay, as if you didn't care any longer.

“Hey you good, I heard screaming but didn't want to interrupt if you were nude or something,” he said, looking up at your hesitant face. As you passed him on your way to the door, a smile crept across your lips.

“Oh shut up, come on, I got a request.”

Jay got up and walked past you as you turned to see your whole life stored away in a small space. Even if you didn't know where Jay would lead you, you had a feeling it would be better, right?

“Goodbye” As you walked slowly to your car in the parking lot, you grabbed Jay's hand in yours as you closed the door. As you held his hand even more, you felt it tense up.

“Hey what was that for?”

“You whine a lot, don't you? Come on, I've got a few more dying wishes before you take me and send me off somewhere, let's fucking go.”

He saw you let go of your hand as you walked to the opposite side of your car, hopped in, and turned on the ignition.

“Are you sure you're up for this? I don't want you passing out on me.”

Jay rushed next to you as he reached for your shoulder as a cough steadily burst from your throat, causing you to grasp your chest in anguish. You shook your head and gave your body a couple shakes as you waved your hand at him.

“I'm good, you know the exact time, so give me a heads up whenever I'm close.” “Anyway, less about my condition and more on the fun we're about to have.”

You put your foot on the brake and drove out the parking lot and on your way to the boardwalk that was a good distance away.

“Sit back, it'll be around 2 hours before we get to my favorite spot.”

Jay offered you a troubled expression as he laid his head on the window, pondering the time you had left while gazing out the window.

*8 hours left, you had eight hours left*

---

Coming up over the infamous hill, you notice the blue seas and immediately begin to brighten up as you repeatedly punch Jay in the arm.

“Jay... Jay... JAYYYY loook were here,” He grabbed your hand and swung it the other way before slowly turning to face you before your final punch. Don't bother Reapers while they're asleep; they don't get enough sleep as it is, and constantly bringing souls is exhausting.

“Please stopp I heard you the first five fucking times.” As he turned back to face the water, he rolled his eys and chuckled a little. The way the waves drenched the salty surface back and forth was more than simply water; it was an artwork.

Even though this might be your last moments on earth, you were glad you found someone to spend them with as you saw Jay's look. You put your hand on his shoulder and signaled for you to depart.

He stepped out of the car, mesmerized by the quiet waters, and walked over to your side, his gaze never leaving the sea.

“It's strange, I've seen my days of oceans before, and I've probably gone to all of them many times, but this one feels different. For a little moment, I forgot I wasn't human. Oh that remind me”

Jay rotated in a circle as he appeared to you dressed in more fashionable attire to placate the human crowd. He clutched your arm as he lost his footing for a second, then raced forward towards the boardwalk, thanking you.

“Hurry up, I didn't transform into a normal male for nothing, I want to see what you folk do up here.” He sneaked a glimpse at you as you laughed heartily at him, and before he knew it, you were running past him, his hand in yours, and on your way to the boardwalk's many attractions.

Spilled ice cream cups, lost money from arcade games, the sides of yours and his faces scorching from a lack of sunscreen, and not to mention the continual brushing of each other's hands were all part of the day. You took Jay's hand as the crowds filtered off the boardwalk and brought him to one of your favorite areas, the sand. As you approach the ocean now that the sun has lowered somewhat, it feels chilly.

As you stand in the cool ocean, letting the waves wash over your feet and taking a deep breath, attempting to relax, you feel a touch on your back. When you open your eyes, you notice Jay standing next to you, his gaze fixed on you. You laughed and placed your head on his shoulder; he didn't flinch or react this time.

He'd become accustomed to it and even loved it.

“How much time do we have left? Will I miss the sunset? Please say no.” You drooped your lips and glanced towards him, anxiously awaiting his response.

“Don't worry, you'll have time,” he said, taking your hand in his and pulling you down further away from the water as you both watched at the ball of light travelling toward the horizon.

The dazzling and flaming sun began to be swallowed by the sky as nightfall approached. The sky suddenly fills with beautiful, rich colors ranging from soothing blues to powerful reds and bright oranges, and finally thin, melancholy clouds.

Jay drew you closer, which surprised you, but you didn't mind because it was getting colder and fewer people were leaving the beach, leaving fragments of people strewn about. Jay drew your attention to himself before relaying the news to you.

Allow me to speak before I say what I truly need to say; these past three weeks have been incredible and eye-opening. I had no idea there were individuals out there that battled and were as brave as you. I understand how difficult it must be to go through all of these changes, but-”

A tear trickled down your face as you coughed, interrupting his speech.

*10 minutes left*

“Oh don’t start crying,” “All I wanted to say is thank you for allowing me to experience something different than my typical routine,” you joked as you pushed his chest. I don't get out very often, but tonight was enjoyable; I hope it distracted you from your worries.”

As you clasped your chest and pulled Jay out of worry, a fast cough attack hit your system.

*5 minutes left*

“I-i woul-l-d love to talk more about our fond memories but my chest is hurting and I think you need to get to the point.” You unbunched his shirt from your fist and let him continue, smiling despite your pain.

He embraced you in his arms because he was afraid he wouldn't have enough time to relay everything.

“Fuck it” 

He drew you in and kissed you again, this time more passionately than before. Your heart skipped a beat as heat rose from your stomach to your chest, and you weren't sure if it was a legitimate emotion or your condition was approaching. As you drew him closer to you, flinging your arms around his neck and smiling, the fragrance of salty sea water filled your nostrils. This moment, the taste of him… It calmed your racing thoughts and made you feel as if your heart was slowing down.

*1 minute left*

As you backed away from his kiss, your eyesight faded in and out, and as you looked about, your vision in the inner corners of your eyes started to go black. It was occurring, and your time was running out. You staggered into Jay's arms as he spoke into your ear, looking back at him.

“See you on the other side Y/N”

---

When you first awoke, you peered around at the dark waters, then looked up to see the real Jay. His Scythe's blade gleamed in the moonlight, and his velvet hood blew in the breeze. Not turning around you heard his voice, distinctly differently than before.

“Get ready, we're closing in on our dock.”

You slowly stood up and felt a prickling sensation on your wrist as you noticed your bracelet was lightly shining, something it had never done before. Perhaps it was the moonlight reflecting off of it.

You observed three figures standing at the dock through the mist and tried to figure out who they were. You didn't realize it until you got off the boat.

“Gramps and Gram, what?” Your voice trembled as tears streamed down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Is this a joke,” As you grabbed them in a deep hug, a hand pushed you closer to them.

“We missed you pumpkin.” You turned around and went towards the dark figure, making sure not to hit his Scythe as you drew Jay into a hug as you got snot on his coat.

“I thought you said you couldn't find them,” you remarked. “I had given up hope.” His face was obscured by a black gloom, so you couldn't see him.

“Um, sorry but could you change back to your normal self, just this once.” Jay reappeared in his usual body, simply regular old Jay, in a split second.

“I apologize for forgetting about that, but please don't thank me. It was all my pal Jake over there.” You turned around and raced over to Jake, hugging him and almost shoving him off the dock.

“Thank you thank you so much, I owe you one.” “Don't worry about it,” he said as he stepped back.

After letting go of him, you returned to the location where your grandparents were standing and took their hands in yours. It was time for you to leave, and all you had to do was walk away.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you came to a halt and turned around to face him. It didn't take long for you to run back into his arms.

“I'm not usually this way, but I'm glad I found someone I can call a friend.” Jay, I hope we run across each other. Thank you for everything; I just wanted to let you know that your efforts are appreciated.”

You let him go and wave to him after pulling him into a goodbye kiss. You hear him calling out to you.

“I think I like you Y/N?”

“Well, I think we should talk about that the next time I see you.” You turn back and continue on your journey, giggling at his childish antics as you fade into the darkness.

As he and Jake hopped back into the boat to return home, Jay's smile never faded.

“I told you so”

“Oh shut it.”

He'd finally found that thing you'd always talked about, that haven where you felt so comfortable that the rest of the world couldn't possibly come crashing down around you. He was overjoyed to have discovered his HOME and vowed to do everything in his power to ensure he never lost it.

“See you soon Y/N.”

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details: Robert

CW: Dehumanizing language, BBU blanket warning, serial killer/death talk, descriptions of death/abduction/murder, blood, whumper death, some real vague implied noncon references, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Dark Discovery in Robert Weber’s Basement: Box Boy Killer, Part 3

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

3 days ago

After Part One, where we learned about the mysterious, but possibly entirely natural, death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, and Part Two, where we saw Henry “Brute” Hanlon’s double life lead to his untimely gruesome murder, you see the single thread that connects these two men who otherwise never met, interacted, or even shared a single person in common… a nameless Box Boy, present at the death of Nanda even if he isn’t responsible for it, and the proven killer of Brute.

It’s my theory that this Box Boy may have accidentally killed his legal owner, Nanda, and then picked up a taste for the act and moved on to taking shelter with those he turns into his victims.

With Brute, he simply didn’t know the man had a wife and children and entire other life, and may have assumed no one would come looking for him or recognize his death. With our third individual, Robert Weber, it seems like our Box Boy Serial Killer got in over his head.

I give you… the Accidental Vigilante death of Robert Weber.

You decide if our unknown killer is simply the unluckiest guy in the world or a killer who even now may be somewhere living with - and earning the trust of - his next victim.

-

One bright and sunny day in the quaint, old-fashioned California town of Rancher’s Rest, Robert Weber was late for work.

Weber worked in a vehicle repair business owned by lifelong “RR” resident Randy Niles, who had known Weber since his childhood and had been his boss since Weber was eighteen years old and fresh out of high school.

Niles, who is now nearly seventy-five and still spends his days in the shop with an Australian Shepherd named Cody and a blind pit bull named Sue keeping him company everywhere he goes, stated that Weber had no living family he knew of beyond his sister in Vermont, and he was just about the closest thing Weber had to a relative just from having known him so long.

“He didn’t have too much to do with his sister,” Randy said in an interview with Unsolved Mysteries. (You can see the interview on the new Netflix reboot of the show! It’s a really good episode, definitely recommend. It’s how I got into this case in the first place.) “Or nobody, really. Just us at work, the guys at the bar, that kinda thing. He was quiet, kept to himself really. You’d never just strike up a chat around town or anything. But he got on just fine with the boys here in the shop. He was a bit of an egghead, too, always going on about this thing or that he’d seen on the news. Little… odd. Little bit off, you might say. But really, who isn’t? In any case, you know, I’d known him since he was a little boy, so he was just Bobby Weber to me.”

Then, of course, one day Robert Weber didn’t show up to work. Randy Niles immediately felt that something was very wrong.

“When nine, nine-thirty came and went and he wasn’t there,” Niles said, “I knew someone needed to go check on him. Bobby showed up for work right on time or ten minutes early, rain or shine, for twenty years. My first thought was maybe he’d had an accident at home, or some kind of, you know, health thing. Almost never called in sick, took one vacation a year, that kinda thing. So I drove right on over there. This would’ve been, oh, probably ten or ten-fifteen when I got to the house. Had my dogs with me, and they never did like Bobby much, but as soon as I opened my door and got out of my truck they just lost their damn minds. Barking, growling, Cody’s hackles were up like you wouldn’t believe. I know it sounds damn crazy, but I’m sure those dogs could smell that evil had been done in that house.”

On camera, Niles goes quiet, here, his gaze slipping away from the interviewer as he scratches at the side of his nose. When he looks back, the hint of good humor that seems to be an eternal part of his expression is gone.

“I didn’t know what Bobby had been up to all this time. None of us knew. I’ve known Bobby Weber his whole life, and I… I had no idea.”

Randy Niles was unable to convince his two dogs to exit the truck, and eventually rolled down the windows to give them some air and a way out if they chose (he is insistent on this point in the Unsolved Mysteries episode - “don’t you dare say I left my dogs locked up in a truck on a sunny day, I sure didn’t - Cody even knows how to pull a door handle if it’s the right kind”) and got out to knock on Robert Weber’s front door.

No one answered.

Niles knocked again. Still no response.

The front door was locked, but Niles was able to locate an unlocked back door into the garage, where he found Weber’s car neatly parked and nothing out of place. However, once he used an interior door in the garage to enter Weber’s home, what he found was so shocking he still struggles to describe it today.

“The, uh. The first thing I saw,” Niles says in the Unsolved Mysteries episode, wiping at his mouth with a handkerchief, “was a cage. Big old cage in the living room. Like a kennel for a big dog, Great Dane or something, except… except, you know, kennels’re usually mostly wire, not that heavy. You can fold ‘em up, put ‘em away. This was… geez. This was pure metal. Bunch of blankets all piled at the bottom, too. Here’s the-... you know, my mind just didn’t want to even make the thought, but I just, I looked at it and-”

In the episode, Niles has to take another moment, here. His eyes grow wet, and his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “People cage. Bobby had a damn man-sized cage in his living room. That’s when my stomach just fell out. Even then, though, I couldn’t-... I just thought, oh, well, what people get up to in their own homes is their business. But still, I just. I just decided, find Bobby, figure the rest out later. So I kept walking around looking for him.”

Randy Niles continued to call out, hoping to hear Weber’s response, but received none… at first. The radio in the kitchen was playing a local public radio station (“Bobby always hated the country western and classic rock we played at work, he was a big news man, big into classical, jazz, you know.”)

Niles noticed, he says, that the cage next to the couch had a wooden top, as though it were meant to act as a side table, and on that table was a small woven basket. Inside the basket appeared to be several State IDs and Driver’s licenses. Niles took note of this but his first assumption was maybe that Robert Weber had stolen some IDs or something.

Which was technically true, just… not quite the way he thought.

The kitchen, hallway, and all three bedrooms were equally empty of life. Every room was clean, everything neatly in place. Empty bottles of Jameson whiskey, Weber’s favorite brand, were lined up like décor along the mantel, and one half-full bottle was next to two clean, empty glasses on the kitchen table.

Even the beds were perfectly made.

The only thing missing was any sign of Robert Weber himself.

The question of Weber’s whereabouts was answered when Randy Niles heard a sound coming from the open door to Weber’s unfinished dirt basement.

“Like a ghost,” Niles said in his interview. “Just this low moaning sound. Hardly even thought of it as human, you know. But I just-... I called out, ‘Bobby? That you?’ and the moaning got a little louder, like whoever it was was tryin’ to answer. I could still hear my girls in the truck just going nuts, probably worried about me knowing what they maybe could smell even out there. I figured… I figured I’d best call the cops and get them out here. Seemed like a plan. So I picked up my phone and dialed, and then I headed down those basement steps.”

What Randy Niles discovered in Robert Weber’s basement was a dying man, battered and stabbed eight times, lying in a half-dug grave.

Robert Weber had been beaten with the very shovel that had done the digging. The shovel lay off to the side, caked in dirt and blood. Police would find some of Robert Weber’s hair on it, too. Then, the individual who had beaten him had gone back upstairs - blood smears were found on the railing to the stairs - and taken a kitchen knife out of the knife block on the countertop. A bloody fingerprint was found on the side of the knife block. They had then returned to the basement where Weber was stabbed, almost entirely through the stomach and chest, twenty-six times, until the cheap knife simply broke from the force.

Randy Niles admitted in his interview that he became very ill at this time. “From the shock,” He elaborated. “I haven’t been able to smell much since I was in a car wreck when I was young, so I didn’t smell what-... what my girls prob’ly smelled from outside, and what the cops smelled. To me, it was just… just a little off, is all. It was the sight of it that got to me, not the smell. The sight of the-... the hand.”

Behind Robert Weber’s body, the hand of another person was sticking up out of the loose dirt, as though someone was trying to dig their way out.

“I remember… I remember her nail polish was pink. That’s when I got sick, actually, was when I saw that hand with the painted nails. That’s when it just hit me all at once what Bobby had done.”

Randy Niles went back up the stairs and waited for the cops to arrive. Rancher’s Rest is a small town where everybody knows just about everybody else, and Niles was on a first-name basis with every single police officer he spoke to that day and in the days after. He would learn alongside the investigation that Robert Weber was not simply the quiet, intellectual car mechanic he had always seemed.

Instead, Robert Weber was a serial killer whose potential final victim had managed a miraculous, deadly escape.

Robert Weber never answered a single question about his own murder - he never fully regained consciousness and died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. His injuries were simply too severe. His autopsy showed that the cause of death was a stab wound that went deep into his chest and that he was first stabbed only after the beating with the shovel had taken place. Like Brute, most of his stab wounds were applied post-mortem in a rage rather than as part of the killing itself.

Medical examiners also found scratches on Weber’s face and arms, indicating that he had attempted to defend himself - or someone else had attempted to defend themself from him.

So why was Robert Weber killed, and why was there already a body in his basement? Investigators would piece together the story over the following days and weeks from a crime scene that only seemed to become darker and more baffling as time went on.

Excavating the basement was originally thought to be something that would be brief, but after the first body was removed, another one was found beneath it. Then another off to the side of that. And another, although this was simply bones.

Every time the forensics team thought they’d found the last human bone, they dug a little deeper or in a new spot and found more.

Eventually, the remains of twenty-two individuals would be removed from the basement of Robert Weber’s home, not including Weber himself. The oldest located victim was identified as Melinda Traxson, an Iowa woman reported missing by her family after she ran away in March of 1996… more than two decades before Robert Weber didn’t come to work one day.

Investigators are still working to match up every body with a missing persons’ case. For nearly all of them, the cause of death could not be easily ascertained due to the deterioration of the remains, but some showed signs of skull fractures. Identified individuals so far include:

Melinda Traxson, 19, from Iowa, ran away from home in 1996.

Billie Mortimer, 21, disappeared from a day out with friends at Lake Tahoe one year later in the summer of 1997. Her friends went to get lunch from the car after a swim and when they returned, she was gone.

Matthew Ranger, 22, went missing during a road trip to Yellowstone National Park in 1997 (only five months after Billie). His car was found abandoned by the side of the road with a flat tire.

Karl Janssen, 24, a tourist from the Netherlands who was also visiting Yellowstone, disappeared a month after Matthew. Last seen by an employee of the park who witnessed him speaking with another young man and getting into the man’s car. The employee said that the two seemed to be friendly with one another and did not seem like strangers.

Hannah Pointer, 26. She was reported missing in 1999 by her mother after failing to return home from work in Reno, Nevada. This disappearance occurred more than a year after Karl Janssen’s. Investigators would later discover that during this time period, Robert Weber dated a young woman from his hometown and he may not have wanted to risk her finding out what he was doing.

Isaac Jackson, 26, a Rancher’s Rest resident who disappeared after going out to a local bar to see his friend’s band play in 2000. His car was found submerged in a small pond two years later. This is the first time Weber apparently killed anyone close to home. He was actually briefly suspected in Jackson’s death, as he was the last person noted to see Jackson alive, but was cleared of suspicion at the time.

Dustin Swill, 21, who was driving from Colorado to California to visit his sister who had moved to Berras to work for WRU in 2001. He was last seen in a gas station near Yellowstone, where employees noted he spoke to a man who was smoking outside, who gave him a cigarette. When Swill left, employees saw the man put out his cigarette and leave shortly after. They did not find this unusual or noteworthy at the time.

Maria Vargas, 25, a Rancher’s Rest resident who was reported missing in 2002. Her family is intensely private and have shared few details about her, but it is known that her boyfriend at the time suspected Weber, who had attempted to convince her to leave the boyfriend for him and had apparently threatened her. He remained a suspect but there was never enough evidence to charge him.

Jennifer Striker, 28, from who never arrived for an appointment with a realtor in 2011. The long pause between Maria Vargas’s murder and Jennifer’s appeared to be due to Weber keeping a man named Finn Schneider within his home for more than a year after abducting him, as well as Weber serving five years in prison for a violent assault on a man he believed had sold him a defective vehicle. (Schneider was no longer in the home before the assault and prison time.)

Riley Nievelt, 25, was staying at the Big Meadow Campground with six friends during a weeklong vacation in 2012. She vanished while on a trip to purchase supplies. Her cell phone was found on the ground in the parking lot of the Food Lion in Rancher’s Rest, a short and easy drive away. At this time, with multiple individuals vanishing after being seen in Rancher’s Rest or being residents of the town, police begin to suspect and start hunting for a possible serial killer.

Alexander Peterson, 29, was a long-haul driver who vanished while working. He was last seen at a rest stop in 2014 on the California/Nevada state line, and would likely have passed right through Rancher’s Rest on his journey. He was reported missing by his ex-wife in South Dakota when he did not return as scheduled for a custodial visit.

The most recent victim, and owner of the hand that Randy Niles saw sticking up out of the dirt, was Yolanda Pierce, 26. She was a Rancher’s Rest resident with a troubled relationship with her husband, who had stormed out after an argument and was never seen again. She is believed to have died the same day as Robert Weber.

More remains exist but have not yet been identified. If you or anyone you know has a friend or family member who went missing during this time period in or near Rancher’s Rest, Yellowstone National Park, or Death Valley, it may be worth looking into, as those appear to be Robert Weber’s “hunting grounds”.

Disappearances in Yellowstone and Death Valley almost always matched up with Robert taking one of his rare weeklong vacations from work.

When investigators located three large diaries hidden inside a locked box in Weber’s closet, the first two fully filled up and the third nearly two-thirds finished, they found an exhaustively detailed record of Robert Weber’s crimes.

In these records, they discovered Weber’s first three victims were killed within 24 hours of abduction, with the rest being kept alive for longer and longer time periods. It is believed all of them met their end in Robert Weber’s basement.

Diary entries included records of two victims who were not a part of the bodies buried in Weber’s basement, both of whom may still be alive:

Finn Schneider, 19, a German tourist who disappeared in 2003 during a visit to Death Valley. Until Weber’s journals were found, it was believed he had perished in the park and had simply never been found. Robert Weber also visited Death Valley during this time. No one linked the two together. Evidence found in Weber’s home after his death, including the aforementioned diary entries and photographs, shows that Schneider was alive in Weber’s home for nearly sixteen months. It is believed Weber purchased the “human cage” that Randy Niles noticed around this time. The last diary entry that mentions Schneider states that he was “traded” on June 16th, 2005, to an individual only referred to as “Mouse.” What Weber received in exchange is unclear, but he was seen driving a new, custom-painted truck around this time, which he said he bought “from a personal ad” when asked by Niles about it. Schneider has never been found. However, his mother did receive a phone call in 2013 from an individual she believes to be her son, telling her that “Finn” was okay and to stop looking for him.

Our Box Boy, 334235, purchased by Nathaniel Benson years prior, whose whereabouts had been unknown since he murdered Brute Hanlon. Weber believed the Box Boy to be in his early twenties, according to his diary entries, and mentioned that he had picked the Boxie up hitchhiking and had intended to kill him before seeing the barcode on the inside of his left wrist and changing his mind. His diary suggests the Box Boy remained in his possession for roughly a fourteen months prior to Weber’s murder. Police have not released the details of what the Boxie was subjected to during this time, stating only that it is not the public’s interest for this information to be known, and they would like to locate the missing Boxie and interview him about certain details.

Four murders occurred during the time the Boxie was kept by Robert Weber. Weber noted that “the dog helped” with either murder or burial, suggesting that he may have worked as Weber’s accomplice in his terrible crimes.

Is it possible that they bonded over a shared urge to kill? Did the Boxie start a captive and become a companion?

Weber’s diary contained other disturbing facts, as well:

Weber also noted three failed abduction attempts in detail, in 1998, 2004, and 2017. In each he described with incredible precision of memory the appearances and descriptions of each person he failed to capture. He also appeared to do intensive research using their license plates and other information to find out where they lived and who they were. The names of these individuals have been kept quiet for privacy reasons.

Other failed abductions were noted, about one per year, without much detail. Or at least not enough for police officers to know who they were. Nearly all these failures were in one of three locations: Yellowstone National Park, Stanislaus National Forest and nearby campgrounds, and in or near Death Valley.

The last entry in Robert Weber’s diary was penned the day of his death.

NOTE: Weber referred to the Boxie as “the dog” in nearly all his journal entries. His last entry went:

May 6th, 20XX: The dog is pissed about something again. He’s always pissed about something. I think the thing in the basement probably kept him up all night with her caterwauling. He never gets used to the noises they make. God knows I can’t sleep either, at least not well. I’ll handle her tonight, have a drink with the dog after, see if that shuts up his nonsense for a while. Note: missed NPR interview with Senator Carlotta Grant on new leg. about the bb prohibition act. Find that on website later.

Found in Weber’s home, in boxes under his bed, were a series of restraints made of leather, high-quality items that appear to be custom-ordered to specific measurements. These included “gloves” intended to keep someone from being able to claw or scratch in their own defense, five sets of cuffs, a body harness, a leather half-face-mask that police referred to as a “muzzle”, several gags, some of which were deemed to be “designed to cause injury to the inside of the mouth”, and “other assorted items for use in torture and torment”.

You can find some leaked police docs online that go into more detail, but suffice to say they pretty much match the kinds of “toys” found in Nathaniel Benson and Brute Hanlon’s homes, too. And apparently, if you really know where to look, you can find some blurry low-quality photos Weber took, too.

While the items are a bit salacious, they aren’t entirely uncommon in consensual relationships, too, so it’s really not clear if they’re evidence of the Boxie being held against his will or not.

The investigation of the crime scene suggests that at some point after writing his final diary entry, Robert Weber made himself a pizza, which he ate half of and put the rest away in the fridge. His shaving cream and razor were found out on his sink, and Weber’s body was clean-shaven, suggesting he shaved shortly before his death.

He then watched three episodes of Law & Order: SVU. We know this because he texted during this time with his only living relative, the sister in Vermont. Little is known about Weber’s family and childhood, beyond his sister’s recounting of a quiet, strained home life with an overbearing mother and her mention that Robert endured several head injuries as a child and adolescent, including one that hospitalized him for days.

After he finished watching TV, Weber entered the basement and murdered Yolanda Pierce. It is believed he took the Box Boy downstairs with him, either as accomplice or witness. At some point while he was disposing of Yolanda Pierce’s remains, the Boxie became enraged for one reason or another, beat him with a shovel, got the kitchen knife from upstairs and stabbed him to death, and then left the house.

A neighbor remembers hearing odd noises around 3:30 AM and looking out their window to see a shadowy figure walking quickly down the road, but they weren’t able to see well enough to say whether or not the individual matches the description and WRU-provided photos of the Boxie. It does seem reasonable, though, to assume that the neighbor witnessed the Boxie fleeing the scene of the crime.

The Box Boy has never been seen again.

Police are pretty mum about the active investigation into the Box Boy’s whereabouts. I was able to get ahold of one source closely related to a member of the investigative team who said that there’s just not a lot of urgency. “Weber killed nearly two dozen people, just that we know of,” The source said. “The cops are a little bit ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ about the situation. Unless the Boxie comes back to RR, they’re just inclined to let sleeping dogs lie.”

The sense of “let it be someone else’s problem” would be understandable… if this Box Boy weren’t responsible for one other direct murder, possibly two.

Police believe the Boxie has not left California, and is likely to be continuing to survive by engaging in prostitution or perhaps panhandling or some other hidden way of making money. Unconfirmed sightings have been located in three cities in central California, but all of these are unverified and should be taken with a grain of salt.

It’s also possible he hooked up with a pet liberation movement group, in which case he may be hiding out in a safehouse, protected from the consequences of his actions by the pet lib movement’s understandable insistence on total secrecy and anonymity for the Boxies they take in.

If he’s an innocent victim of circumstance, that’s fair.

If he’s a burgeoning serial killer with three victims under his belt and a taste for inflicting terrible violence on those who take him in… well… anyone who gives him shelter may be next.

Is our Boxie a purposeful killer or just supremely, almost incomprehensibly unlucky? Will he kill again? Was he Robert Weber’s accomplice or his victim?

Will he strike again?

Should there be an audit of WRU’s psychological testing on potential sign-ups to see if, perhaps, a Box Boy-wannabe with an urge to kill slipped through the cracks?

What do you think?

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary

[alphabravocharliedelta]

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader VIII

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Therefore I Am | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader

Chapter VIII

Word Count: 6200+

[Chapter VII] [Chapter IX]

Summary: After somehow reconciling with Adler, Bell and the team are left to continue their pursuit of bringing down the undercover spy ring, but it proves to be more of a challenge as Bell struggles to move on from their Perseus-affiliated past.

Content Warning: mature content, vulgar language, mention of drugs, torture 

Notes: As mentioned, huge time skip! I also apologize in advance for writing this but at the same time... Yeah, have fun. Thanks for making it this far though!

[Y/N] “Bell” [L/N]

January, 1984

CIA Safehouse, West Berlin

"We’re going to be a bit busy this month, Bell. Are you sure you can handle the safehouse alone?”

You roll your eyes at Adler’s worries. “It’s just one month. Nothing to worry about if you guys do your jobs, right?”

It didn't settle his anxiousness. Adler's been rather nitpicky leading up to this day, making sure nothing was out of place, and that everything was accounted for. Now, he was talking to you as if it was your first time staying home alone. 

“The phone is right there." He points to the landline on the table. "Sims will be in charge of communications between us, so give him a call if anything happens. We'll try to update you on what's going on with our end, but no guarantees.”

“Fine." You close the fridge, unscrewing the cap to the water bottle you just took out. "I still don’t get as to why I can’t go along, but have fun I guess.”

“You’re not going anywhere with that leg of yours.” 

“It’s healed already!”

The entire team shuffles out the door, and you could hear their vehicles start up. Adler lingers behind at the doorway, watching you gulp down some water. You eyed him curiously, before tossing the plastic away. “Don’t you have to go?”

Adler adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder and straightens up slightly. “I was thinking… When we come back, I can take you somewhere."

A smile tugs at your lips. “Is that your way of apologizing for not bringing me to D.C.?”

“You can say that.”

“Is that a date then?”

“I’ll leave that up to you.”

“God, get a fucking room!” you hear Woods howl from outside.

Adler tilts his head slightly over his shoulder, slight annoyance written on his face, before resuming. "There's a couple CIA associates that's going to visit the safehouse a few days. You're technically not supposed to be here, so try to stay out of their way." 

"If they stay out of mine."

He gives you a final lookover, before parting off and getting into the driver's seat of his car.

You watched as he pulled away from the driveway, waving farewell to your teammates before closing the door. Now, it was just you and the safehouse in West Berlin. 

Adler, along with the rest of the team, were called back into the Pentagon to go over the upcoming operation consisting of the prison transport. You couldn't exactly tag along since, of course, since you're technically dead. Adler said he would pull a few strings to birth you a real identity and all (like he'd done before) but so far nothing led up to him fulfilling that promise… yet. 

Not all of them were going to Washington though, a couple being relieved of their duties for a short vacation. Mason didn’t give you much details when he left the first week of December, confidentiality and privacy a part of it, but you knew that you, in the end, were going nowhere. You also heard that Hudson took a small leave to spend time with his family (you didn’t even know he had one).

It didn't help that you also sustained several injuries from a mission one month ago, where NATO decided to attack a Soviet missile convoy out of spite for what they did to their training facility in November. To put it short, you took a good tumble down the snowy cliffside while providing overwatch for the team, and gained a small concussion and a fracture in your leg. It wasn't as bad as it seemed, but it was enough to make you limp a couple weeks.

You weren't supposed to be there, but you managed to convince Hudson to slip you into the strike team. Needless to say, Adler had ripped you a new one post-mission upon finding you lying on the ground underneath a pile of snow.

"How the hell did you fall off?"

"Someone snuck up on me. Don't worry though, I took him with me. Now are you going to help me up?"

The lecture that followed was a long one, but obligatory. It was his way of caring, you suppose. What better way to spend the holidays than to walk around with crutches while waiting for a tiny crack in your bone to heal?

Not much was done for Christmas, but it did have its highlights. You did wake up to a brand new black bomber jacket sitting on your desk that morning, and had a gut feeling who it came from. The rest of the team that stayed behind assembled together a small barbecue dinner, Sims calling the shots. He was a pretty good cook, you had to admit (much to Woods’ opposition). It was a casual day consisting of beer and food.

Now you have a whole month to yourself.

Sighing, already bored, you span around on the swivel chair you sat on. You already did your paperwork ahead of time, and even made sure everyone else’s was well sorted and organized. If someone had given you a heads-up that you were going to be stuck here, you would have put it off. 

Pulling yourself back to the table, you plopped a notepad in front of you, pencil in hand. A good amount of pages were filled out, and you estimated almost 2/3rds of it were left. The pages consisted of a multitude of things, such as notes, drawings, or translations. There were a couple of times where you would try to sketch out the dreams you had while sleeping on the job. While they weren’t great, both in context and in technical skill, you were proud of it… kinda.

The notepad was freely accessible, and Woods would sometimes write little comments about the drawings in the corners of the page. Or Lazar who would try to draw the same thing. And it just so happened that you found a note that said “Bell has a crush” in Woods’ handwriting, so you immediately ripped it out and threw it into the incineration pile.

After taking the time to eat Woods' snacks to spite him, especially that last bit of Hershey's, you powered on your Walkman, shoving in MIX 2 and settled yourself in front of the arcade machine.

When you were hungry you would check the fridge, and everytime you expected some kind of new dish to appear. But instead there were just a few bottles of German beer, some leftovers, and a stack of TV dinners that looked like it had been sitting there for a while. 

0000

Over the course of two weeks, you explored every bit of the place, every nook and cranny, and read every piece of paper you could find. There were newspaper clippings of the Kennedy assasination, old mission details and briefings, as well as some unprocessed polaroids. The supply area was especially interesting, a bunch of locomotive parts lying around.

The time did come where two particular individual people had come to visit.  It was dead early in the morning when they came in, and you, who couldn't get any sleep that night, almost shot them when they entered. After de-escalating the situation, they were just as surprised as you were, but introduced themselves as Carson and Ben, the two CIA agents Adler mentioned beforehand. 

Coming up with a bullshit lie, they seemed to believe you, and left you alone. If you didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother you. 

It felt a bit awkward working around strangers, as you couldn't estimate their skills and predict their next thought. Being the safehouse members made you comfortable, so to be paired up with two random CIA agents was difficult to adapt to. But, it wasn't without reason, as the CIA eventually expanded their counteractive measures against Perseus.

The majority of the time, they were too busy putting stuff up on the evidence board, as Adler said they would. You had yet to take a peek, not wanting to disturb their work and instead would check the data terminal near the red room constantly, waiting for emails notifying you about what was happening back in the states. 

One past email caught your eye, seeing how your nickname was the subject line. It dated to about late last year.

>>from R. Adler, to E. Black: Re: Bell

》》I appreciate your concern over Bell, Black. But, after some consideration, and do take this kindly, but I believe it is within everyone's best interests for you to stop inquiring about them. They're fully capable of handling themselves and have proved to be able to make conscious decisions. Any further messages regarding Bell will be ignored. There are more important things to concentrate on. 

Reading Adler's defense against Black made you smile unwillingly. His words in text sounded polite, yet you could imagine his bitterness as he typed it out. The simple fact that Black would ask about you was a bit daunting. He didn't as much as show any concern for you in the past, and you never even got to see his face. You never really did take a liking to Black, and after what Nikitin told you, it felt like the only people to be trusted were just the safehouse members. 

Leaning back in the chair, you let it turn on its own as you gazed up at the roof, wondering how everyone was fairing. They could handle themselves without you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt and lonely without them.

It’s just one month.

Two more weeks to go.

0000

The day finally came where the long awaited phone call arrived.

You just came back from the practice range when one of the agents walked over to you, with one of the safehouse phones in hand. “You're Bell, right? They’re asking for you.”

Setting down Lazar's modified sniper rifle back in its respectful padded box, you took the brick-like phone from Carson. “Bell.”

“Damn, you didn't even tell them your name?” Sims’ jaded voice came from the other side. 

You grin hearing his voice. It felt like ages hearing him speak. "Well, thanks to you, now they know."

“You're welcome. I saved you the work. How’s it over there?”

“Uh, not much. Adler’s acquaintances are finalizing the evidence board, so it should be ready when you guys return,” you inform. “How’d the missions go?”

Sims gives out a drained laugh. “Fucking tiring, I’ll tell you that. They had us jumping from state to state." You could hear some muffled conversation in the background, and you could only assume that he covered the receiver. "Sorry, Bell. Some hardass wants me to take a look at something. Can't talk for long, but…"

He proceeded to give you a quick rundown on what happened the past month, talking mainly about the prison transport conspiracy. Sims wouldn't tell you what happened with the person Stitch was interested in, but he informed you that they were currently in the middle of interrogating a few individuals, trying to get information about Perseus’ next move. You didn’t have anything else to offer, sadly, and wished them luck. 

"Also, just passing a message from Hudson. He wants you to look over the evidence board as a precaution."

"Yeah, got it. Anything else?" you ask, eyeing an impatient CIA agent who also wanted to make a call.

“Adler should be returning tomorrow.”

You fought off a grin. “Sounds good.”

“...You’re not going to ask about Adler?” Sims infers, a bit taken aback.

"...Why would I?"

"Just thought you would want to check up on your boy—"

You hang up, pleased with yourself. Sims was certainly going to hold it against you, but for the time being, it was a small win.

At this point it was no secret that there was something going on between you and Adler, and whether it was romantic or not was up for their consideration. You wondered how the idea even got around, and guessed it was most likely Lazar who happened to let it slip on accident. Nothing really stayed hidden around the safehouse, and if Hudson already happened to hear about it, it didn't seem like he gave a second shit.

Passing the phone back, you look at Carson dead in the eye. "Staring is rude, you know," you reprimand, before heading over to the board.

Your eyes scanned the mass of evidence. A culmination of decades of work, intertwining and connecting with one another all leading to one crime organization: Perseus. There were some pieces you had never seen before, and you gave them a quick read. A playing card was pinned right in the middle of it all; the King of Spades, the title given to Kuzmin himself. There was also mention of Naga, whom you've come to vaguely remember. There were a few yellow stickies on there, personal notes and thoughts made by the two agents. One of them, though, you had to do a double take.

Woods BFF is MIA

"What?"

Did you read that right? 

The first person that comes to mind was Mason, but you thought he returned home to be with his family. It must have been a mistake then, or it was referring to someone else. But, as far as you knew, there was no one else as close to Woods as Mason.

"Hey!" You rip the note off, storming over to Ben, who looked up in alarm upon seeing your disturbed expression. "What the hell does this mean?!"

He begins to get flustered, realizing that you knew way more than he anticipated. "I can't tell you that, sorr—"

"Bullshit! I fully deserve to know what's been going on. Is it Mason?"

"I..."

Above you, the lights flicker, but you didn't let that serve as a distraction. "Tell me."

"Like I said—"

There was a loud bang, causing everyone to flinch as a result. You could see Carson's hands slowly glide across the keyboard, keeping a keenful eye on the metal shutters. Ben, on the other hand, backed away from you, withdrawing back to his table.

Dead silence.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up in premonition, a small shiver running down your spine. Your stomach dropped— something was telling you to run. 

"Uh… Ben?"

You saw one of the computers lose its signal, and then the next, the rest of them following suit. Carson sends out a string of swears, scrambling to try reboot the system.

That was when the lights turned off. 

It was pitch dark. The fans that served as background noise ceased all movement, the electricity ceasing its currents. 

"Carson!" Ben yells, and you feel him push past you. "Destroy the drives! Hurry!"

"Wait—"

But, before you could take another step, everything unfolded.

One of the doors was kicked open, gunfire erupting the second after. Diving behind the table nearby, you could hear the screens shattering, the fragments falling to the ground carelessly. The two agents cried out in pain for a split second, and then you never heard them again. A couple bullets went through the desk, narrowly missing you. The sirens went off, a red light beginning to flash overhead. 

Someone was invading the warehouse.

What for though? To steal info? If that was the case, then you should have taken the time to memorize all of it if they were planning to purge everything. 

Reaching out, you opened one of the desk drawers, feeling around. You felt something cool brush against your hand and didn't waste a breath taking it out, the object revealing itself to be a 1911. Checking the magazine, it was fully loaded and well kept.

Peeking around the corner, you see someone approaching your side of the garage. Although it was dark, you could make out minimal details of the uniform that they wore, and you freeze at the sight of it.

Shit.

You recognized that get up anywhere. Bland and lacking color, with tundra patterned pants and hooded jackets… It couldn't be.

How did they even find this place…?

The CIA mole.

Someone knew Adler and the rest of the team was going to be out. With their best members away, it would have been a perfect opportunity to attack. After all, what the hell was one lone agent supposed to do?

Jumping up from behind the table you aim for the person that neared your position but a figure from behind knocks the pistol out from your hand. It fell to the ground effortlessly, sliding a few feet away from you. About to make a dive for it, you ran forward, only for one of the invaders to bring the butt of their gun downwards to smack the back of your head. Your face slammed onto the ground, blood bursting from your nose. Something cold pressed against your temple as you tried to move, 

“Wait,” a gruff voice ordered. 

The lights turned back on, the backup generator revving itself into action. Black boots appeared in front of you, a few specks of blood splattered across the leather like glitter. 

You were then heaved up by your arms forcibly, the gun now pointed at your left side. A gloved hand grabbed your face, and following up the arm you were greeting with quite the sight. He had a hood over his head, and a gas mask secured tightly around his face. Even if you couldn’t see his face clearly, the voice was unforgettable. You knew enough to identify him without fail.

“Ah,” you begin, giving a scornful leer. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?" 

Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin was not amused in the slightest. 

"—Or should I say ‘eye’?"

The pressure on your chin increased with such force that you thought he would dislocate it.

You could hear the rumble in his throat as he hummed to himself in thought while you glowered at him. 

“So, you’re still alive?”

His appearance didn’t show much difference when comparing them to your memories. There wasn’t a lot to look at, but the most outstanding characteristic had to be the whites of his left eye with that ugly scar Adler left as a parting gift. Around his neck hung a large metal piece of the Perseus symbol, and accompanying it was a collection of dog tags, ripped off of the body of his victims. What a sadistic son of a bitch.

Stitch lets go of your face, making up his mind.

"I would leave you here, but I have other plans for you."

He waves you off, and his colleagues restrain your arms behind your back. Any attempts to free yourself were futile, and you were dragged off.

Fuck!

You should've been more prepared. That 1911 was in great condition as well, you should have just fired it the moment you aimed it. And as a result of your lack of decision making, two people were dead and you were now a hostage.

The last thing you see is Stitch stabbing a pink flyer to the evidence board with a knife. 

Your thoughts raced back to the team back at the U.S.. What was going to happen to them? It was going to be a hell of a mess to return to, and the idea that there was now a mess to clean up without you there to explain it all is going to be a hell of an issue. 

How was Adler going to react?

Eyes widening at the realization, you internally screamed. Stitch's goal wasn't you, as you were just a surplus of his objective to get close to Adler.

A bag is pulled over your head, and is tightened to a close around your neck. The cloth of it was poreus enough to let air in, but it felt suffocating. 

With nothing to see or nowhere to run, you were tossed into the trunk of a humvee. It wasn’t long before it started up and drove away, departing away from the mess. You tried to make a mental note of the amount of turns that were taken, but eventually lost count. 

After lying down in darkness for God knows how long, Stitch’s destination must have arrived, the main indicator being a swift blow to the back of your head to knock you out, the last thing you heard being the engines of an aircraft.

0000

"You seem a bit eager to return."

Adler takes the cigarette out of his mouth and places his hands back on the wheel. Zenya gave him a mocking side grin, waiting for a response.

"After what happened in Miami, I think some suburban scenery might be fair," was the response he came up with. 

Naturally, he couldn't exactly tell her that he was excited to see you again after nearly a month. Adler wasn't granted to leisure to phone you, so Sims or someone else had to do it in his stead. He couldn't help but admit to himself that he had a sense of yearning to hold you again, and it was becoming a losing battle as he fended off his urges to give you a secret kiss on the forehead when no one else was around. The past weeks have been physically draining, and Adler just wanted to rest in your presence.

But, that would have been unprofessional of him. So the closest he would get to you was under the guise of emotional support. And if he just so happened to hold your cheek, hand, or bestow you one of his mini possessions (as a comfort item) in the name of "support", then it's permissible. That kiss was… an exception to the rule. And it should only happen once.

Fucking hormones. He was almost fifty years old and there was still room for those kinds of tenderhearted thoughts? You really were a piece of work.

"Is there someone waiting for you?" Zenya prods. "I heard Woods mention this 'Bell' person."

"Classified."

"C'mon Adler. This is the first time I've seen you like this."

"You'll meet them when we get there."

Zenya gives out a groan, before waving him off. "Still stiff as always. They must have a high tolerance of bullshit if they could handle you."

"You have no idea."

The safehouse comes into view. Nothing seemed unordinary, nor was there the smell of something burning. A part of him expected you to be waiting outside with crossed arms as you tapped your food impatiently, but remembered that he didn't exactly tell you he was returning today.

As for everyone else, they were still awaiting for their ticket home or the next set of orders. It was Adler's duty to return to the safehouse and prepare for the next op, having to brief others on the evidence board and compare it with what they had learned back in Florida.

In his pocket was the souvenir Woods managed to nick for you during the clean up sweep— a keychain of a tiny jar filled with sand and microscopic shells with the embellishing of "Florida: The Sunshine State" engraved into the glass. He told Hudson it was going on the evidence board under the guise of it potentially being related to the prison escort. 

It wasn't. Not by a long run. 

The car comes to a full stop, and Adler takes the keys out. But, from the moment he planted a foot onto the dirt, he knew something was wrong.

Your motorcycle was parked in its usual spot, and there weren't any unidentifiable vehicles around either. He couldn’t see it, but something inside of him screamed danger. 

“Nice bike,” Zenya compliments with a whistle. She rushes over in excitement, bending down to survey the components. “Damn, I’m jealous. Who's this belong to?”

“Bell’s.”

“Is that who’s waiting for you? I like them already.” The small talk was pardoned with Adler’s dour expression as he sent a quick look towards the roof, and Zenya could sense his mood shift. "What's up?"

A steady hum coming from the safehouse told him that the generator was functioning. He expected music to be blasting from the radios but it was dead silent on your end.

"Stay sharp, something off."

Adler's worries continued to increase with each passing step. Zenya followed closely behind, shutting the door of the car with a loud thud. They both stopped in front of the shutters, Adler knocking on it a couple of times to let you know of his presence.

You did inform Sims, who in turn told him, that the CIA agents settled in smoothly. Though, he was sure you wouldn't have bothered them in the slightest, seeing how you're a bit reserved upon meeting new people. But on the chance something did happen…?

After a minute passed, no one came to raise the door. 

"...Shit."

Pulling out his secondary, Adler gestures to Zenya to go around the right while he covered left. With his back stuck closely to the walls for cover, he took the extra care to make his footsteps light to avoid alerting any suspects inside.

Gazing down, there were imprints on the dirt. The indents were deep and easy to make out. The owners were carrying something large, and they faced outward, trailing away from the building. There were tire tracks as well, none that he recognized.

After affirming that there was no other suspicious activity around the perimeter, he made his way to the back, where the door handle was hanging off of it.

No gunfire was met upon entry. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of two men who were splayed across their work desk, dead and riddled with holes. The paper underneath them was stained with their own blood. Flipping them over, their eyes were open, frozen in horror, and skin cold to the touch.

"Bell?" Adler called out.

No response. 

He repeated your name again, trying to hide his nerves. "Stop fucking around, Bell!"

Did you kill them? 

Adler perished that thought away the moment it came into existence. No, you didn't do that anymore. You may be brash, but you weren't that mentally unstable. 

He waited to hear you respond back, but to no avail. Adler paced around anxiously, looking for any clues. There were only two bodies, yet there were three of you. A lone 1911 laid lonely on the floor.

Zenya returns in the form of a jog. "There's no one in the house. No signs of struggle either."

"What the fuck happened then?"

An audible crunch came from below. Looking down, Adler removed his foot from the object he stepped on, a few pieces sticking to his soles.

It was a Walkman.

The one he gave you.

Before he could even crouch to investigate, a bright pink caught his eye. Adler marched forward to the evidence board. A knife was stabbed into it, holding up a pink flyer that advertised the grand re-opening of the mall in Pines, New Jersey. 

TIME WE END THIS

Clenching his teeth, fury began to overwhelm Adler, knowing full damn well who caused the mess. The entire evidence board was all about him, and it just so happened that he came to visit on the day Adler was gone. 

"Stitch." 

The name was cased in such hostility and loathing that it nearly made Zenya hesitate to get closer. To see Adler in such a state was seldom, and she couldn’t even recall a moment where he acted in such a way before. His knuckles were turning pure white, nails digging into his palms. 

What a coincidence that this menace had paid him a visit after becoming the current spotlight within the past few months— It was time to return the favor.

“He’s trying to bait you, Adler,” Zenya advised cautiously behind him.

“No shit.” He rips the knife out, pocketing it. She was right, but nothing was going to stop him from going. With you gone, it only added to the terror he was about to unleash. “See if the lines are still working."

Adler walked over to the smashed Walkman, dusting away the fragments. Scavenging out the tape, it was still intact, MIX 2 was written in his own handwriting. Nearby was a few drops of blood. It couldn’t have belonged to the bodies, since it was a good distance away.

Bell.

His fingers pressed against the cassette, thoughts beginning to go awry. He couldn’t bring himself to rummage through the mess or check the rooms— Adler already knew what had occurred.

Stay calm. 

He grits his teeth, slipping the tape into his pockets before he crushes it in his hand. 

Everything may have been set up just to entrap him, but if your life was at stake, it was just a risk he had to take. He owed it to you. As much as he wanted to walk right in, the last thing Adler wanted to do was make a decision that could cost your life. 

What more did they want with you? 

He should have brought you along.

When it all comes down to it, these were the cards that Perseus decided to play, and Adler could only hope you knew when to pick your battles. He wouldn't hold it against you if you spilled the beans. If you were safe and alive, that was all that mattered, and anything that resulted from information being leaked could be dealt with. He'll make sure of it.

But he knew better. If there's one thing about you he came to recognize, it was that you weren't going down without a fight. 

Don't do anything stupid, [Y/N].

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

The sensation of freezing liquid was what shocked you awake. You had to hold your breath within that moment as whoever was there was pouring a torrent of water down on you. 

With a deep gasp of air as the waterfall turned into a small stream, you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. There were a few shelves, stocked with boxes of miscellaneous items. In the corner were some large blue barrels wired with bombs, the red light blinking every five seconds. "N6" was spray painted on it. 

While you were bound to a chair, Stitch positioned himself in front of you, gesturing for his comrade to lay off. There was a utility cart next to him, various tools and instruments laid down on each shelf. A repugnant feeling settled in at the sight of it, and you already knew what was about to come.

“Vikhor,” you greet sarcastically, “Your interpretation of a 'welcome back' party isn't what I had in mind."

There was a sliver of panic that started to bud within the pits of your stomach, but you buried it down. Any indication of weakness was something Stitch was looking for, and you refused to give it to him. 

“What did you tell them?”

When you didn't respond, you were gifted a hard punch to your jaw. Still, you were undeterred, not even flinching. It was the type of shit you dealt with before, and you lived, so you'll do it again and again, annoying your captors as a consequence of their actions. They couldn’t do shit to you— you were too valuable. As Perseus had the bounty, you had information they wanted.

"Ahh, come on. Adler did much better than that," you taunt.

"I'll ask again. What do they know?"  

You glared at Stitch as he crouched to look at his work. There were bits of your blood on him, and you noticed his knuckles were beginning to get raw. You could feel your already beginning to swell from that one hit you took, blood running down your forehead. 

"Perseus had high hopes for you," Stitch discloses, and remains of jealousy barely detectable. "Who knew one of his most loyal subjects would turn out to be a disappointment like you?"

You laugh. "I bet…" you began, speaking in Russian. "Kravchenko thought the same of you, before sending you to the gulag."

Furious, he stood back up and grabbed the back of your head, yanking it back. The lightbulb above you swayed in a circular motion as it blinded you. You could see double images and halos (did he inject you with something while you were out?). "I should cut off that tongue of yours."

Don't trust Adler.

"J-Just like old times, huh? If it weren't for the general, we would have been at each other's throats constantly," you remark. “I wonder if he finally decided to croak. Would you guys invite me to his memorial service?”

“You ought to watch your words.”

Sense of time was lost as Stitch continued to badger you with violence and questions, but had no success in loosening up your lips. Your mind felt clouded, and the voices were already returning whispering unwanted messages and orders. You were bound to a metallic chair at your wrists and ankles, the arm rest already stained crimson, and you couldn't even feel your legs. Stitch had already broken your left arm and gave you a collection of slashes and punches just trying to get information out of you. 

Even if you were, at one point, a higher position than Stitch, there was always that deadly aura that radiated off of his person that would make you stiffen at first glance. And now that he has a complete advantage, you refused to even buckle despite the punishment you were put under. Sarcasm was a great way to cloud it, but with him, it was like prodding a bear with a stick.

Know where your loyalties lie.

“Shut up,” you hissed under your breath, sick and tired of hearing manipulative voices.

Stitch grinds his teeth at your comment, before he notices a silver glint near your collarbone. Curiously, he pulls it out from your shirt. 

The dog tags.

"Disgusting," he verbally recoils, "Adler made you his."

You held your tongue. 

"...Good thing that he's coming here to the mall, eh? And after I'm done with you, he'll come to discover your body." Stitch lets the tags slip away from his hand, and it returns to hanging around your neck without a care in the world. Why he didn’t add it to his collection, you didn’t know. Stitch walked over to the silver table, picking up a well polished combat knife. Brandishing it, he took a moment to let its beauty sink in, looking at both sides. "I wonder what kind of face Adler will make when he sees his precious pet broken to pieces."

“Vikhor.” He was met with a dark expression. "If even one of your fingers even touches him, I will fucking kill you."

"After all these years, you're still an annoying little brat."

Your threat didn't seem to faze him. 

"Is that how you talk to your superior?" you sneer, recalling the meeting years ago. It felt enthralling to act like this, taunting the man who held your life in his hands. Seeing Stitch's muscles tense at each word, hands balled into fists, you knew he could only withstand so much backlash before finally snapping. 

It was a idiotic thing to do, but the fear had to be cloaked. Keeping a cool head would be the correct approach in this scenario, but teasing Stitch was just too good of an opportunity to pass up. This was the same shit you did with Adler years ago, and you were going to do it again, unintentionally or not.

“I'll never understand why the general trusted you, out of all people, to deal with him,” his deep voice projects, maintaining eye contact with you. He Tosses the blade into his opposite hand. “Look what happened. I'm the one that has to clean up your mess."

“It fits your name though— Stitch. Fixing up everything...” You give him a derisive smirk. “Just get it over with, Vikhor. Aren't you getting bored of beating a dead horse?"

“As a matter of fact... I am.”

Grabbing your face, he points the knife directly at your left eye. The edge glistened under the light, highlighting the little grooves and bits of rust in the metal. Your eyes follow it, going to the handle where Stitch gripped it tightly, before trailing up to his face, where the look of bloodlust radiated off of him. You could tell he was just waiting to put the knife to use.

“An eye for an eye, was it?”

He takes the opportunity to let the tip of the knife dig into your skin just right above your eyebrow. Stitch proceeds to slowly drag it downward, and you grip the ends of the armrest and curl your toes as you feel your own flesh being cut open. You suck in some air, preventing yourself from whimpering.

You may have been trained and conditioned to resist all forms of interrogation, but this was just testing your life endurance at this point, your sanity just on the urge of breaking. How long have you been here?

His hand prevented you from flinching away. It was excruciating, and you had to hold your breath to prevent a blood curdling scream from coming out. You could only go down the dictionary of English and Russian swears in your mind as white seared. 

Stitch stops, the blade mere millimeters from entering the eye socket. His eyes surveyed you carefully, just waiting for any reaction that would grant him some kind of sadistic satisfaction. 

"G...Getting sympathetic are we?" you strain. 

The chill of the metal was already lost as warm blood streaked down your face. Your index finger twitches as you feel the blade graze against your eyelid. What the fuck is he waiting for?  

"To think we used to work with you," he says, voice quaking with anger. His grip around the handle tightens. His control and handling of the knife was impressive, to say the least, but his inability to make you break was a whole ordeal on its own. "Such a shame to have things turn out this way."

You drew back your lips before spitting at Stitch. "Хуй тебе́."

It landed right on his mask. The brute didn't even flinch or budge, but his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, a vein popping out on his forehead. To see that you got him to such heights of vexation was an accomplishment. Using him as a doormat to let loose verbal insults and taking him lightly was no easy feat, especially with your own life on the line.

Sorry, Russ. I guess I am damaged goods.

In the last few seconds, you see the muscles in Stitch's arm tense, the hues becoming visible just as he delivers your comeuppance in an instantaneous swipe.

[headinthestaticsky]

The Dusk Calls for me: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 12

AUTHORS NOTES: None of the characters in Twilight belong to me. All rights go to Stephanie Meyer.

We’re heading into the Finale of book 1 folks... I have so many ideas for book 2... it’s going to be great. Hopefully!

“You get ready, you get all dressed up

To go nowhere in particular Back to work or the coffee shop Doesn't matter 'cause it's enough To be young and in love.”

Love by, Lana Del Rey

Bella was finally going to meet the Cullens officially. All day before I had left to go down there she paced, looking like she was going to be sick. All of the Cullens were cooking Italian for Bella. The only person who I was worried about was Rosalie. She was furious at Edward for even dating her, and when he went public with her... it set her over the edge. Emmett was chopping up lettuce and other vegetables for her while Rosalie begrudgingly held a bowl for him to put it in. I was sitting in the living room with Jasper, he was concentrated on reading some books. It was always entertaining to watch vampires read so quickly.

“Is she even Italian?” Rosalie asked.

“Her name is Bella, Rose... she has to be.” Emmett replied.

“Emmett... you thought I was french just because my name is Fleur. That food was really good though... not like I am complaining. I said.

“Okay I admit I messed up there but, I have to be right about this one.”

“Whatever you say Em.”

“Shut it short-stack.”

“At least I don’t hit my head through small doorways.”

He glared at me jokingly and then rolled his eyes.

“Rose, tell her to stop bullying me.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do that... it’s too funny to listen to.” Rosalie said.

“Ugh, I feel betrayed.” Emmett said, his hands going toward his un-beating heart.”

Rosalie smiled, it was soon dropped though. She must’ve kept thinking about Bella.

“She better eat this.”

“Don’t want to sound gluttonous here but... I was totally eat if she doesn’t.... it’s her lose.”

“Stop trying to make me laugh.”

“I will never stop my attempts to make you laugh.”

“Woo, get a whiff of that, here comes the human!” Rosalie said in a sing-songy voice.

Esme smiled widely, she quickly wiped her hands before making her way over to Bella.

“Bella, we’re making Italiano for you.”

“Bella, this is my Esme my mother for all intents and purposes.”

Emmett raised his hand and waved at Bella with a knife in it. Bella and Esme exchanged a bit of Italian.

“Hello again Bella, hope you’re well.” Jasper said.

“Hey, Jasper... hope you’re well too.”

“You’ve given us an excuse to use the kitchen again. We usual make meals for your sister when she stays over.” Carlisle said.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Esme added.

I could see a nervous look on Bella’s face, I probably should’ve told her they would cook for her. 

“Y-yeah absolutely.”

“She already ate.” Edward said, a tinge of attitude in his voice.

Rosalie stood there, anger was all of her face. She smashed the bowl she was holding in her hand.

“Pull back Edward, you’re throwing her to the wolves!” I thought.

“Damn Rose... remind me not to piss you off again.” I said.

She had to bite down a smile.

“Perfect...” She said.

“It’s just because... I know you guys don’t eat. I didn’t want to put you into any trouble.”

“Of course, that is very considerate of you.” Esme comforted.

“Just ignore Rosalie, I do.” Edward said.

“Yeah, let’s just keep pretending that this isn’t dangerous for all of us.”

“Look, I would never tell anybody about you guys... Besides, Fleur knows and you trust her.”

“It’s because I pick up a good energy from her... I know I can trust her with anything I tell her. She’s not a backstabber, she’s told me some of the stuff you’ve done. I’m sorry but, it made me sick the way you use to treat her. I hated seeing how upset she got telling the things you and your mother said to her”

My eyes widened before looking down at my legs... maybe me being here just reminded them of some of the things I told them. I wasn’t being much help to Bella right now. Jasper sensing my nerves rising, calmed them down. My uncomfortable mood slowly simmering down.

“Rosalie, stop... don’t worry Bella, she knows you wouldn’t say anything about us to anyone.” Carlisle said.

“Well, the problem not is, you two have gone public now so...”

“Emmett.” Esme interrupted.” 

“No, she should know. The entire family could get implicated if this ends badly.”

“Badly, as in... I would become the meal.”

All of the Cullens in the house except for Rosalie and Esme started to laugh. I heard a few thumps before I saw Alice and Dean enter the room.

“Hi, Bella... I’m Alice.” Alice jogged toward Bella, giving her a hug.

“Hi.”

“Gosh, you do smell good.”

“Alice what’re you.”

“Don’t worry... Bella and I are going to be great friends.”

Dean looked like he was struggling to say something. I could tell he was uncomfortable to be around Bella right now.

“It-it’s a p-pleasure to meet you.” He said.

“Don’t mind Dean, he and Jasper are our newest vegetarians.” 

“It’s okay Dean, you won’t hurt her.”

The expression on Edward’s face made me want to laugh.

“Okay well, I’m going to show her around the house.”

“Okay.” Bella mumbled.

“I’ll see you soon.” Alice said.

“Okay.” Bella said again.

“So cute!” Esme gushed.

“I know!” Alice said in agreement.

“I think that went well.” Carlisle added.

“Rose, clean this up... now.” Esme said.

I leaned back into the couch, sinking into it. Jasper put his arm around my shoulder. “What an interesting visit.” I thought to myself.

Another day came and went by, Bella and I were on our way to the diner. It had been so long since I had been down there. I was in the passengers seat of her truck. I thought since we were going to the same place, we should probably drive in the same vehicle... During out drive she started talking about how Edward had been watching her sleep for months.

“Are you serious Bella? That’s kinda creepy.”

“I’m sure you have Jasper in your room with you at night.”

“Yeah but, he always asks me before he goes in there. We plan stuff like that out... He should be coming later tonight actually.”

“Okay... you have a point there.”

When we arrived at the diner and got out of the truck Mike approached us...

“Hey, you and Cullen huh? I don’t like it... I mean he looked at you like you’re something to eat.”

Bella and I looked at each other and smirked... he had no idea how correct he was in that statement. We walked past him and entered the dinner, dad was already waiting for us.

“Hey I hope you two don’t mind I ordered food for you guys already. I got you Bells a Spinach Salad and I got you a burger Fleur.”

“Yeah that sounds good.” I said.

“Good picks dad. Even though, you should get a salad like me next time... cut back the steak.” Bella said.

“Hey, I’m as healthy as a horse.”

"Hey , Chief, the boys want to know... did you find anything by Queets river today?"  The waitress asked.

"Yeah, we found a bare human footprint... but it looks like whoever it is is headed east... the Kisap County Sheriff is gonna take over from here."

 "Okay, I hope whoever it is... they get them fast." The waitress then walked away, a group of men started talking within there group.

I turned around hearing something outside, Mike was doing something to a poor bush outside. I nudged Bella, trying to get her attention.

“Hey, someone’s flagging you outside.”

“It seems that Newton boys got a big smile for you.” Dad added.

Bella looked, and then turned back around, her face looked horrified.

“You can join them if you want.” I said smirking.

“Shut up you jerk... Mike is a good buddy though.” She said back.

Dad face flushed slightly... as if what he was going to say next was embarrassing.

“W-what about any other of the yahoo’s in town?”

“Dad... we aren’t going to talk about boys are we?” Bella said, her face starting to turn red too.”

“I guess not... with you at least.... How is everything going with you and Jasper, Fleur?”

I looked up confused, how did conversation about Bella’s relationships get turn into one about mine.

“It’s going well.”

“Good, I noticed you’ve been spending a lot more time with him lately. That car ride you took was a long one.”

“Oh yeah we drove out for a while... we looked at the stars... it was really nice. He told me I seemed stress and just decided to take me somewhere.” I said, I looked down at my hands while smiling.

Dad seeing this smiled too.

“I always liked that boy, you got yourself I good one.”

“I know I do.” I said finally looking up at him.

“I was only bringing up boys with you Bella because... I feel like I leave you alone too much.”

“I don’t mind being alone dad, I’m like you in that way.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Timeskip: Later that night.

I was in my room, thinking about what dad had said earlier... He found a bare human footprint in the woods. Could it of been the same footprint of the woman who’s body I seemed to be suck in during my dreams? Or could it of been someone else entirely? The wind from my open window got harsher for a second, I then heard a familiar soft thud on my floor. I turned my head, locking my eyes with his.

“What’s going on in that head of yours love?” Jasper asked

“Just thinking of something my dad said earlier...”

“What is it?”

“My dad said he found a bare human footprint down at Queets river today... He said it was heading east. Have you guys found anything yet?”

“No, we haven’t found anything, it’s starting to get frustrating. Have you had anymore dreams about those vampires?” 

“Nope... if it is them though, I have a feeling that print was just a trap to throw them off course.”

“I do too... hey, my family and I plan on playing baseball tomorrow, since Edward is inviting Bella... I thought you could come too.”

“Yes, I would love too, watching Emmett climb and crash into things is my favorite part of the game. That and all those tricks you do with the bat.”

“It’s a plan then, I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” I pecked his lips before getting comfortable in my bed, I was still a human... I needed some sleep. I laid there, Jasper behind me holding close.

“Tomorrow is going to be a fun day.” I thought to myself, before drifting off to sleep.