#id let him cut off my toes and feed them to me

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Red Lips & Rosy Cheeks

Pairing: TA Spencer x Student Reader (She/Her)

Category: Smut & Angst (no minors)

Summary: Spencer Reid is a wallflower. But what happens to wallflowers when they’re invited to the dancefloor?

Content Warnings: Angst with Smut, Smut- Oral (male receiving), fingering, dirty talk, hinted Sub Spencer, unprotected penetrative sex, mentions of ‘marking’

Word Count: 5,600

Prompt: “I feel so unsure, as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor.”

Author's Note: Congrats to @mercy-burning! You are one of the reasons I started posting on here. I adore your writing and am so happy for you 1 Year! Lots of love to you <3

Red Lips and Rosy Cheeks

He felt so out of place in his ill-fitting suit. His shiny shoes pinched his toes and his dark tweed jacket made him stick out in the sea of faculty twenty-five years his senior. Spencer’s no stranger to imposter syndrome and when it comes to big events like the annual end of year banquet, it comes back in full force. He tried his best to make small talk to the professors, from other departments, but his pride was stricken one too many times when the waiter at the open bar asked for his ID, but not his companions.

And just like that he was back in the halls of high school, ridiculed for his clothes, tormented for his family, teased for his youth. In his misguided optimism, Spencer would have expected that that kind of immaturity wouldn’t have followed him all the way to CalTech. He had hoped that it would have died in the dry Las Vegas desert. He wished he could bury his past, desert the undesirable attention. But, as it turned out, being the smartest person in any room, comes with its drawbacks.

Spencer, despite the weak start, finds himself enjoying the chatter of the banquet. The students from his chemistry class milled about, chatting happily with their classmates. A pang of jealousy hits Spencer’s heart as he watches them. He never got a ‘normal college’ experience. Being years younger and years wiser, he missed out on the parties and friendships. And now that his third PhD is completed, he’s ready to move on to the BAU with Agent Gideon. It’s a little terrifying to leave the comforts of academia. He’ll miss the quiet library and the familiar buildings with their hiding spots. But what he’ll miss more is the memories that he never got to make.

Just as another wave of self pity is about to hit Spencer, a twist catches him off guard. Y/N, a student from his chemistry class, walks over to him. Instantly, Spencer goes through a whirlwind of emotions. First, excitement because she’s walking over. Second, guilt because she’s his student. As unprofessional (and inexperienced) he is, he still can’t resist that the very thought of kissing her makes him a little more than hot under the collar.

“Good evening, Dr. Reid,” she says, smiling with her eyes as she approaches him, “You look like you’re having the time of your life,” she jokes, leaving Spencer stammering to come up with an answer.

“Parties aren’t really my thing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, “I was actually thinking about slipping out. It’s not like anyone would miss me here, besides, I have to feed my cat” he offers, taking in just how breathtaking she looks. He doesn’t even have a cat, but he’s known for quite awhile that all his intelligence floods out his ears when he’s talking with Y/N.

“That’s a bummer,” Y/N says, her eyes twinkling as she sets down her drink on the empty table to her right, “I was here to ask you to dance,”

“Yes,” Spencer says, cutting her off at the end with his unadulterated enthusiasm, “I mean, if it’s okay with you. Well of course it is, you asked me,” he backtracks, internally cringing at his word vomit.

“What about your cat?” she says, the levity of her voice telling Spencer that she’s teasing him. She holds her hand out, extending him a piece of her to grab onto. He wants nothing more than to clasp her hand in his and never let go.

“I don’t know why I said that,” Spencer confesses, taking her steady hand in his shaky one, “I’m nervous. I never danced with a girl before,”

“You’re cute,” Y/N says, holding his hand as they walk towards the dance floor. Spencer is grateful for the cover of the dimly lit ballroom. Otherwise, she’d see his rosy cheeks. He doesn’t think she’d laugh at his reaction, but the doubtful side of Spencer urges him to act with caution, “I’m glad you’re staying,” she whispers into his ear.

He feels so unsure, as she takes his hand and leads him to the dance floor. The music thumps in his chest. He can feel his blood circulating throughout his body and he’s sure that he’ll end up having a heart attack from how fast the adrenaline moves through his system. And yet, as Y/N brings her hands to his shoulders and directs his hands to her waist, Spencer’s never felt more alive.

“See, you’re dancing with a girl for the first time,” she says into his ear. The music is so loud that her lips brush up against his ear for him to hear her, “It’s not that bad is it?” she asks, teasing him again.

“N-no,” Spencer says, still struggling to form sentences as her hands clasped around his neck. She sways to the beat to the music gracefully. He must be an eyesore, stumbling along clumsily, “It’s nice,”

“I’m glad, Dr. Reid,” she whispers, laying her head on his shoulder as the song changes to a slower ballad. Her hair tickles his nose and her flowery perfume makes his heart skip a beat, “I wanted to tell you something before you left,” she says.

“You don’t have to thank me, Ms. Y/L/N,” Spencer says, using her formal name, despite their less than formal closeness, “You’re a very bright student and it was my pleasure to help you throughout the semester. Your paper on Thermoelectric Materials had incredible insight. I was impressed, and proud, if I can say that,” Spencer says, letting his hands rest on her back as they continue to sway to the music.

“That’s not what I wanted to say, but I’ll admit, you being proud of me gives me butterflies,” she confesses, lifting her head from his shoulder to watch his facial expression.

“I-I,” Spencer stammers, his brain unable to compute what Y/N is insinuating, “I’m not sure what you mean, Y/N,”

“Is it really not that obvious?” she asks, fidgeting nervously with her fingers, “I mean, I brought you cookies like every tutoring session and I can’t help but stare at you in class. Spencer, I thought you knew and didn’t like me like that,”

Like her like that. Like her like that. Like her like that.

That little sentence tumbles around in Spencer’s mind as mind’s eye images of their time spent together flash before him. Countless hours spent sneaking glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. Lingering after class as she’d pack up her books so he could hold the door open as she walked to her next class. How had to contain his excitement when she asked him for private tutoring sessions, even though she was already at the top of the class.

Part of him wants to kick himself for not catching it; for being so caught up in his own supposed flaws that he didn’t see what was right before him. But another part, the hopeless romantic in him, wants to kiss her in front of everyone.

“I wanted to tell you before I graduated, and you’re moving onto bigger things,” she says, lifting her head from his shoulder. Warmth lingers in the spot where her head rested on his shoulder. Spencer can feel his pulse quicken when she looks at him again, a hopeful smiling playing on her lips.

“I’m glad you told me,” Spencer says, not wanting to drop her hand as they dance, even as the music stops, “Even though I’m leaving soon,” he adds, wishing that things could have been different.

“Just because you’re leaving doesn’t mean you won’t remember me,” Y/N whispers, threading her fingers in his hair. Gone were the innocent glances and stolen stares. With the feeling of her fingers in his hair, Spencer was ready to trade it in for something much more salacious. And though he might stumble his way through it, he knew that once this night faded into nothing but longing memories of possibility, he’d never regret it, “You know this banquet hall has some unoccupied rooms, down the left. And I think we’re the only party here today,” Y/N says into his ear.

Her lips hit his skin again. From the corner of his eye, he can see her fiery red lips. When she first walked up to him, he had to avert his gaze. Something about her red lips and the promises they told reeled him in.

Spencer nods in response, not trusting himself to talk and reveal all the sweet, and surprisingly sinful things he’s thinking as they walk away from the dance floor. He feels so unsure, as she takes his hand and leads him away from the dance floor.

The music echoes throughout the otherwise silent hallways. Spencer’s shoes still pinch him in the toes and his tweed suit jacket is much too warm. He can feel his palms get sweatier as Y/N leads him down the hallways, looking for a room.

Spencer has only done this once before. It wasn’t love to the other person, though in his mind she was the only thing. It’s almost as if when he walks along the cushioned carpets and he looks from the ostentatious decor to Y/N’s sinfully red lips he’s seen this film before. But Spencer wants this to be different, even though they are simply fated to fall apart. He desperately wants them to have the only ending they aren’t allowed to get.

“This looks like a good spot,” Y/N says, turning to face him with a wicked smile, “There’s no lock, so don’t be too loud Dr. Reid,”

The tiny cupboard holds the banquet hall’s fancy linens and tablecloths, but it might as well be The Door of Death and Y/N the sinfully disguised Charon. She drags him through the threshold by his tie, showing no mercy.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Y/N says, as Spencer shuts the door behind them. She reaches up to pull down the lightbulb. The cupboard, like the banquet hall, is dimly lit, making Y/N’s face look ghostly. Her red lips and stunning eyes are the only signs of life in her otherwise haunted face. Spencer swears he hasn’t seen anyone so unabashedly beautiful.

“I always wondered what you’d be like, Doctor,”

His honorific slipping from her lips is too much. Spencer’s breath hitches as Y/N’s fingers cascade down his front. She looks like she’s enjoying watching him squirm. He wonders if it makes her feel powerful having him react to her touches as if he was attached to a string. Yet, as her face eclipses the lightbulb and her lips come to cover his, Spencer knows that anything else is futile. If she wants power, he’ll lose the meaning of will.

“Please kiss me,” Spencer says the desperation in his voice coming out in little puffs of air, “I need to have kissed you at least once,”

“You’re even cuter when you beg,” Y/N says, her cool affect short circuiting the synapses in his brain, “As much as I want to hear that, I think I want to kiss you more,”

His glasses fog up first. Then, he finally feels the pressure of their lips meeting. Spencer can feel her lipstick rub off on his lips as she glides over his mouth. Her fingers are knotted in his hair again, pulling him closer. Her kisses are controlled and thoughtful. As she moves across his jaw, Spencer hopes to himself that the lipstick will remain when their spark invientably extinguishes. He wants to commit her to memory. He hadn’t even left yet and he was missing her already.

“You’re good at that,” Y/N says, pulling away from the kiss. She rests her forehead against his. For a second Spencer lets himself breathe her in. He soaks in the smell of her hair, never wanting to forget how the sweet scent hits his nose, “Are you okay, Doc?”

Spencer licks his lips, hoping to taste the lingering lipstick. He doesn’t, which means he’ll just have to kiss her again. His voice, with Y/N so close and every fiber of his being lit on fire, is useless. Spencer wants to give her more of an answer than a small nod, afterall she does like it when he begs.

“God, yes,” Spencer says, chasing her lips. He’s been deprived too long, and in a short while, he’ll be deprived again. But this time for the rest of his life. Y/N’s eyes search his; looking for the slightest bit of doubt or regret. She must not find it because her lips are on his again.

He whimpers as her hands find their rightful place in his hair. Only when she starts to peel off his tweed jacket, does Spencer realize just how overheated he was getting. The door rattles when Y/N pushes him back against it, working her way down his jaw. He can feel her smile through the kisses. She leaves her crimson red mark on his skin, a physical symbol for his already tainted heart. Just to think, moments ago he was shaking with uncertainty as he danced with her.

She grabbed his hand, led him to the dancefloor and proceeded to whisk him away. It’s like a headrush, experiencing all those experiences he was desperate to live out.

“I knew you’d be so noisy,” Y/N says, undoing Spencer’s tie as he looks at her longingly, “Tell me if this is too much, promise?”

He nods, wondering what she could mean. Y/N holds his undone tie bunched in her hand. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what exactly she’s thinking of doing with it. Spencer gulps, the anticipation nearly killing him. If he’s honest with himself, he would bet money that she’ll kill him before the anticipation does.

“I did say you were too noisy,” she says again, smiling devilishly with the blood-red lips, “As much as I’d like to hear those cute little whimpers, I don’t think either of us want to get caught,”

Spencer nods his head, fully understanding Y/N’s intent. His eyes are wide with desire; he’s swimming in uncharted territory now. There’s no map to tell him the way when he’s backed up against the door with his former student offering to gag him with his tie as they…

“Yes,” Spencer says, “Please, just do something,” he begs, opening his mouth to let her stop the noises that he lets out.

“That’s right, Doc, good boys use their manners,” Y/N says coyly. She places his tie in his mouth. The texture of the silk hits his tongue. He can’t close his mouth, but if he really wanted to he would be able to remove it. He supposes that that’s the thrill of it all.

His whimpers sound even more pathetic through the fabric of his tie. Y/N looks to be enjoying herself. Compared to Spencer, with his disheveled hair and lipstick stained skin, she looks so put together. It’s not a secret who holds all the power, and Spencer wouldn’t want it any other way.

Sweetly, Y/N kisses Spencer’s forehead and nose, making him flush red in the cupboard. The sickly sweet moment ends as she drops to her knees. Spencer is a smart man. He knows that even though she’s on her knees, there’s no guessing who is listening to who.

As her fingers undo his belt, Spencer is grateful for the tie blocking out the moans of approval. His pants fall to his ankles. Y/N skims her finger around his underwear waistband, purposefully not giving into what he wants. As much as he likes her attention, Spencer feels himself grow more and more impatient with desire at her lack of attention. He squirms, standing against the door with his head thrown back.

“Has anyone ever touched you like this, baby?” Y/N asks, his heart skipping when he catches the name she used for him. He feels almost silly, blushing at being called ‘baby’ while her hands inch down his underwear, “Has anyone seen you come undone?”

The last time he found himself in this situation was 3 years ago. And, to everyone’s displeasure, it didn’t end, or rather, finish, with mutual satisfaction. Spencer, with the benefit of hindsight on his side, supposes that nearly everyone’s ‘first times’ are muddled with shaky hands and uncertainty.

He can’t speak through the makeshift gag and he swears that she’s doing it on purpose. Spencer wonders, as Y/N palms him through his underwear, if she knew the effect she always had on him. It’s different than when they’d meet late in the library for her totally unnecessary tutoring session. That was the daylight; this is the afterglow. The dim light bulb formed a halo around her head. She was angelic, but what she was about to do to him was nothing short of devilish.

“Then you’re all mine,” she says, mercifully reaching a hand into his underwear. She smiles from down below, her lips curving as she watches him react to her. He wanted nothing more than to let his guard down.

Letting her drag him out to the dancefloor was the first drop into the bucket. And like one of those Rube Goldberg Machines, Spencer knows what’s next. He’ll, for the first time he can remember, let control go. He’ll take all that insecurity that he held in the palm of his hand and discard it. It was probably gone the moment she told him she liked him afterall.

“You know, as much as I don’t want to get caught. I think I need one last chemistry lesson, Doctor Reid,” she asks him, before finally giving into what he wants. Her delicate finger brushes over his erection. Her wicked smile and scarlet lips make her look like everything sinful personified. She holds her hand with her palm extended for Spencer to spit the tie-gag out. He trusts her, but is still apprehensive on how a chemistry lesson tracks.

“Tell me how you feel, baby,” she cooes, her hands not touching him as he squirms with frustration, “If only everyone could see the smart Dr. Reid all dumb like this. I haven’t even touched you yet and look at you,”

Her mocking tone shouldn’t make him more eager, but it does. In some kind of twisted reaction, it only makes Spencer want her more. His breathing, as she wraps her hand loosely around his cock, hitches with yearning. Something about her eyes spells out desire. It draws him in, but reminds him that he’s only allowed one taste before it’s all gone. She’s a sinful Cinderella. Or maybe he’s Cinderella, because Y/N’s certainly charming.

“Y/N, please. I need more. It feels too good,” Spencer pants. He knew that that moment she dragged him onto the dancefloor he was fucked. But now with her touching him with her pants down to his ankles, fucked can’t even begin to describe the situation.

“Tell me, Doctor Reid,” she starts, her saccharine voice and Cheshire smile leaves him mesmerized, “What are the chemicals associated with sexual gratification?”

Blank. His mind is blank. All that he can see is red. Her red lips painted a deadly crimson. All he can feel is red. His cheeks burning red with need.

“Uh, um,” Spencer starts, closing his eyes to concentrate, “Lust is estrogen and testosterone and attraction is dopamine, serotonin, and norephedrine. Those are the chemicals associated with sexual gratification. It’s an evolutionary development,”

“Good boy,” Y/N says, fully knowing the effect that those two little words have on him. His heart races, his pupils expand, his entire body tenses.

It’s science.

Spencer opens his eyes just in time to watch Y/N take his cock into her mouth. He wishes that she didn’t take the tie out of his mouth. There’s no stopping the round of moans and whimpers that leave his mouth. Her tongue is soft against him, her mouth warm and inviting. Spencer knows it’s scientifically impossible, but he thinks that a part of his brain has died.

“Y/N, oh god, Y/N. That feels so good, please.” he begs. The words leaving his mouth without much thought or consideration.

He doesn't seem like he’s forcing her, but he needs to grip his hand onto something. Lightly he rests his hands in her hair, holding as gently as he possibly can. He feels Y/N moan around his cock as she continues flicking her tongue around him. The vibrations cause more throaty moans to creep out. He feels like he is on fire. Nothing lasts forever, but this is going to take him down.

She releases him from her mouth, running her finger along his tip. The sensation makes him shiver and his reactions make her smirk. Spencer, unsure how much more he can take, feels embolden. He helps Y/N pull, practically hauling her to her feet with all his might.

Unlike the kiss prior, Spencer is sure of himself. He kisses her with an intense ferocity. Her lipstick, between kissing him before and what had just happened, had worn off quite a bit. The remnants leaving Spencer’s skin marked up for all Y/N’s glory.

“Looks like you enjoyed that,” Y/N says, licking her lips with a self-satisfied grin as Spencer nods his head frantically, “I did too,”

And as if the corners of his mouth were pulled up by invisible strings, Spencer smiles. He leans forward again, kissing Y/N. She seems surprised, but enthusiastic at his initiation. Spencer wants nothing more than to melt into the kiss. He wants to let it wash over him again and again. He wants to be able to memorize the feel of his lips kissing every inch of his skin, because soon it will all be gone. She’ll be nothing, but a memory that will haunt his dreams and invade his thoughts.

“You can taste yourself on me can’t you, Dr. Reid?” Y/N says, “You want to feel how wet that makes me?”

As if it was possible, Spencer’s cheeks burn at Y/N’s crude words. She takes his hand in her hand, bringing it up to her mouth. And as she looks at him, straight in the eyes, Spencer isn’t sure if he should avert his gaze.

“Yes,” Spencer says, immediately agreeing to whatever it is that she wants. It doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll give it to her without hesitation, “Please, whatever you want,”

“You’re an even better student than teacher, darling,” Y/N says softly, kissing Spencer’s index finger from the knuckle to the tip before slipping it into her mouth. Just as she sucked him moments before, she welcomes his finger into her mouth. This time, Spencer gets a better view of how the eyes refuse to look anyway, but his.

“Oh, fuck,” Spencer says, uncharacterisitcally swearing, “Y/N, you’re going to kill me,” he murmers under his breath.

She releases his finger from her mouth; a trail of spit attaching the tip of his finger to her soft red lips. Some of her lipstick rubbed off on his finger, another piece of him marked by her.

“I had to get you nice and wet for me,” she says, “Come on, baby. Don’t you want to touch me?”

“Yes,” Spencer says, his hand shaking, evident with anticipation, “I want to make you feel good too,”

Noticing his nerves, Y/N guides his hand lower. She bunches up her dress to her waist, revealing her underwear. Now nothing is left to his imagination. Spencer can hear the faint music through the door. The speakers boom loud and louder, or maybe that’s just his heart about to take flight.

Finally, he touches her. He feels just how wet sucking him off had made her. If anything, he’s very observant. He uses his natural skill to figure out just what Y/N likes. He circles her entrance with his index finger. His mind and hands working together to pull out the most beautiful noises from her. Y/N holds his wrist tightly, making sure he continues to rub circles on her clit.

In a moment of tenderness that will make his head spin for years to come, Y/N places her hand against Spencer’s cheek. He continues to rub circles around her clit, placing slightly more pressure to make the sensation more intense. She kisses his forehead, whispering words of encouragement as he continues to pump in and out with another finger.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby. You’re going to make me come,”

Prompted by her sweet words and even sweeter kisses, Spencer whimpers in response. He can feel her constrict around his finger. And he’s read enough scientific articles on the female orgasm to understand what this means. He wants to feel her come undone at his hands. He wants to feel her desire for him so he’ll be able to hold onto the memory.

“I’m so close,” Y/N whispers, so quietly that Spencer is sure a ghost whispered it, “So close,”

Whines and strangled moans filled the room. Spencer can tell that Y/N is trying to be quiet as she comes. A part of him wonders how loud she would have behn if they did this in a bedroom, not in a storage office at a university banquet. Even though she holds back, she’s still beautiful as she climaxes.

“God, you are so beautiful, Y/N,” Spencer says, peppering her cheeks and collarbones with sweet kisses. He means it. The words. The kisses. He means every word of it. She is beautiful.

Spencer knows that he must be a sight. His lips feel swollen from Y/N bitting kisses. His skin is littered with bruising kisses and lipstick stains. And his hair. He’s always had trouble controlling it, but in the heat of the small storage room, he’s sure his hair is wild and messy.

Yet, just as he looks at Y/N like she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Her eyes mirror his. She studies him, and he’s filled with the hope that she’ll remember him, even her wildest dreams.

“I want to fuck you now,” she licks her lips, her controlled exterior tarnished with the soft look she gives him. From his position facing the table, they are eye to eye. He holds out his hands, letting them hover over her waist as she sits on the table.

“I want to remember this forever,” Spencer says, his words coming out more earnestly than he expected, “My only regret is waiting so long for you,”

“It’s okay,” she says, bringing him in closer. His breath hitches as his cock brushed up against her soft thigh, “We’ll make it count for today,”

She reaches down, taking his cock into her hands and lining him up. Spencer’s labored breathing grows desperate. He’s positive that he can feel every cell in his body singing with lust. He moves closer, pushing himself inside her.

It’s like time has stopped. He can hardly breathe. His mouth hangs open and he rests his forehead against Y/N’s. She kisses his nose, the only part of him her lips can reach.

“I knew you’d feel so good inside of me,” she says, her words sticking to him like glue.

Her words are the encouragement that he needs to start moving. His thrusts are slow and untimely. He tries his best to mirror Y/N’s controlled and throughout movements, but he’s nothing but a poor intimation.

Her lips, messy and red, whisper sweet nothings that he’ll treasure like love letters for years to come. He’s a mess of emotions as she continues to claw at him in pleasure. His whimpers and her moans fill the room.

Spencer tries his best to have a coherent pace as he continues to thrust. Y/N meets him halfway, moving and constricting around Spencer as he’s buried deep inside her. She guides his hand to her clit, wordlessly telling him what she needs. Spencer’s happy to listen, wanting to do anything to please her.

“You are an eager little slut,” she whispers, the dirty words painting his cheeks as red as her lips once were, “My eager little slut,”

That little word is what makes him lose it, but the next sentence is truly what ends him.

“Be a my good boy and ask for permission”

“God, Y/N,” Spencer says, his voice raising an octave as he feels like he’s never felt in his life, “Please, I’m going to come, please,” he begs. It comes full circle. Her red lips smiles wickedly as he begs for permission. He’s eating out of the palm of her hand, and there’s no other way he’d rather do it.

“Since you’re such an eager slut, make me come first and then I might consider it,” she offers, leaving Spencer scrambling to help her reach her climax.

His nimble fingers rub circles around her clit and his lips leave no spot on her skin untouched. He kisses her enough for a lifetime. Though, if they were together, a lifetime would not be nearly enough. Her hands are in his hair, twisting and tugging in pleasure.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it,” she says, chasing her release as Spencer doesn’t relent, “Such a good boy,”

He feels his heart skip at the praise. He’d need nothing more but that for the rest of his life.

Spencer groans as she comes while he’s inside her. Her legs are tightly wrapped around his waist, anchoring him to her. His eyes meet her eyes and Spencer never felt more at home. He’s sure it’s the cocktail of hormones and her being so close that makes him want to pretend that this can last forever. She’ll haunt his hindsight, he’ll see them in flashbacks tangled up like they are now. Her hands knotted in his hair and her lipstick marked him as hers.

A chorus of thank yous, pleas of pleasure, and chants of her name slip from his lips as Spencer reaches his climax. His brain turns to mush as he pulls out, his release sticking to Y/N’s thighs. Spencer rests his head against Y/N’s shoulder, concentrating on his breathing. She gently rubs her hand against his back, holding him close. She kisses his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

“It was worth the wait,” she says, her voice low as Spencer feels himself come back to Earth. Her legs unwrap from his waist and she looks around for something to wipe herself up with. She finds a linen, looks at it, and then look back at Spencer, “I think I’ll have to steal this,”

Her deadpan humor forces a wry chuckle from Spencer.

“I suppose so,” he says, his tone sounding even more unsure than he was when she brought him out to dance, “I’m fine,” he says, because he knows that question is coming. He takes the linen from her hands, cleaning her legs up. He crumbles it up, giving it back to her to slip in her bag.

“You sure,” she says, “Because we can stay here for a couple more seconds if that's what you want. I want make sure you feel good, Spencer,”

If it was only seconds with her that he needed. But he shakes his head, pretending to be okay when he’s anything but.

“I’m all good,” he says, “Just not used to hooking up in linen closets,”

“Really?” Y/N teases, her smile playful. She reaches out, kissing Spencer. He accepts it gleefully, treating it like it's the last time they’ll kiss, because it very well might be, “Please don’t forget me, Dr. Reid,”

Her voice is sincere as if there is a true possibility of him forgetting her. Not even if he could, would he. She’ll remain as fresh in his mind as she did the very first time they met. Memories of her touch, her smell, her taste will haunt him like footsteps. It’s a blessing and a curse to never forget her.

He takes her hand in his, kissing her fingers before bringing them to his heart.

“Never,”

“Good,” she says, kissing his forehead one last time. She jumps off the table, adjusting her dress and fixing her hair.

Grabbing her bag, she opens the door only to close it again. She turns, facing Spencer. Y/N walks over to him, her fingers holding him so tight the lipstick stains will have bruises to match. He kisses her back.

“I had to do that one last time,” she whispers, turning her back to him. It’s the last glimpse of her he’ll ever get. Her eyes marred with tears, her lips messy with red lipstick, her skin burning with passion.

The door shuts, leaving him alone in the dark. He can hear his heartbeat and it sounds lonely without hers. His heart will break again and again. He’ll fall in love and out of love over and over. Someone will swoop in and glue fractured pieces together. But the cracks will show. The missing slivers will never let him look the same again.

Spencer will miss her like he misses the sunset when he watches the sunrise. And can only hope that she’ll miss him like she misses the sunrise as the sunsets. His heart will mend again, but he’ll dream of it being broken by the same hand if that means she can love him for real.

As he slips out of the closet, checking both ways, his heartbeats for the one he can’t have. Every pang the soundtrack to the life they will never share together.

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[lokispettigerr]

Swimming Amongst the Stars: Jotun!Loki x Reader (NSFW) SMUT

Summary: While vacationing at a mountain cabin, reader traverses the mountainside. Against warnings from a neighbor, she goes where danger is sure to ensue and sparks fly until they melt away a heart shrouded in ice. 

Warnings: Depression mention. Way too many kinks that even I do not understand. The characters wanted them there. BEWARE!

Word Count: 3362

General Taglist: @njavezan @lovelyxserpent-br @kamaroon @britkane-shsl-librarian @not-made-of-glass @archy3001 @witch-loki @purplekitten30 @mad-doctor-mew @bakerstreethound @jmb959 @little-moonbeam-666 @hiddlestoner3059 @bingewatchingmylifegoby @fkngparadise @lucywindigo @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @chocolatealmondmilkk @mellowgirl01 @fyeahlitaajpunk @drakesfiance @wicked-starlight-collector @kenzieam @sherlocksuperfan666 @confessionsofastrugglingteen @joseyslo @ms-munchkin @saintwiz @thathedonistgirl @thegrandmasterschampion @this-side-of-midnight5  @scorpionchild81 @hanginbyadream @lokislilslut @vioietta @rainthekittycatsblog @fire-in-her-veinz @cutie1365 @puff1408 @joyofbebbanburg @brokenthelovely @tehgvicious @lovelylazerbeams @fyrecrafted @lilith-akemi @sarcsep @alexakeyloveloki @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @iris-suoh @brucesflightattendant666 @station1485 @disney-kingdom-hearts @bluestaratsunrise @devilbat @smolangstbean @dangertoozmanykids101  @barelyreality @laochbaineann @steampowerednightvaler @shockwavee @wegingerangelica @nightrose64  @wegingerangelica @calamity-queen @mischeviousliar @zainabmmm @micki-smiles @pinkzz123​ @rightfulkingofjotunheim​ @cyenakarma​ @holykryptonitekitten​ @majoringinlife​ @amberlokabrenna​  @avenging-blackwidow​  @dragon--dragon​ @onelazy-cat​ @nothungry4humanflesh​ @doralupin01​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @cherrygeek86​ @fandoms-wither-me-away​ @pyewhackette​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @fiftyshadesofrebel​ Taglist: @bladeofanarchangel​ @p6tter​

A/N: I almost didn’t release this fic after asking you all about Patreon; all I wanted was a response not any pledge of a first born child or anything. I literally got one response. I feel used and completely obsolete- that people only care about me when I give them fictions. Who knew being a tumblr Dragon was oh so lonely. Yet, here I am, depressed as ever. At least I have my writing. 

“You need a break,” they said. “It’ll be fun,” they said-- Relax.

How can I possibly relax? I’m staying in a 200-year-old mountain cottage without any modern insulation in the dead of winter. 

There wasn’t even a word to describe how I felt. In short, I was miserable-- a lightweight and someone who is far more cold-natured than not. I needed heat to thrive, where others may die of heatstroke, I reveled in it. 

The phone rang shrilly and I fished it out of my pocket, my cold fingers moving clumsily. The caller ID read, “Kendra.” 

“Hey, sis.”

“Still alive I see,” Kendra said, our connection distorting her voice. 

“Barely, I’m beginning to think I might lose a few fingers.”

“That would be a disappointment,” she laughed. 

“Mom and Dad wouldn’t see it that way.”

“Sh, you. Speaking of Dad, he thought you might enjoy a trek up the mountain.”

“Kendra, you can’t be serious! It’s covered in snow and wild animals.” 

“Well, he thought the mountain air might do you some good.” 

“Spoken like someone who wants to get rid of the family low-life,” I teased. 

I knew my Dad, Kendra, and my Mom were just trying to help-- looking out for me as it was. I was depressed and not only had it taken a toll on me, but it had also taken a toll on my family. They watched me suffer and I watched them suffer for it. 

I wanted to come to the mountain cottage if nothing more than to give them a break and escape from the worried looks and concerned whispers. 

Dad was right; I needed to do something and maybe hiking up the mountain would make me feel better. 

I resolved tomorrow would be the day I would hike my way up the mountain-- depression be damned. 

\\\\\

Early that evening, before the sun went down, I ventured out to the covered shed. 

The snow was falling lazily in fat flakes that clung to my hair. I was mesmerized by the crunch of the snow beneath my boots when a voice sounded out.

“Need some help?”

I looked up and was met by a friendly and familiar face.

“Hey, Mr. Bill! Naw, I am just taking some logs in to feed the fire.”

“You look well. Just let me know if you need anything.” He paused, looking down at his boots, “Nancy was wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner tomorrow.”

“Really, I’m fine.” I knew my Dad had likely called Mr. Bill to tell him to keep an eye on me, like I was some invalid unfit for basic survival and make no mistake, I was, but I didn’t want my family or Mr. Bill to know that. 

Squinting, I looked up at the sky, “I would, Mr. Bill, but I was planning on hiking up the mountain.”

“Then Thursday night,” he persisted.

“Yeah, okay... That sounds nice. I’ll see you in two days.”

“If not before! Don’t be a stranger.” Mr. Bill turned to walk back towards his home but stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh and uh.” Mr. Bill removed his cap to scratch at his bald head underneath, “Just be careful out there. There has been talk that a bear is up on the mountain causing chaos and mischief.”

“I’ll be careful. I always am.”

\\\\\\

I had awoken early. I wanted to hike with as much daylight as I could so as not to get lost or encounter any angry, furry foes.  

Before heading out I decided to warm up in front of the fire, holding my hands towards the growing flames-- it was the warmest I would be for several hours. 

I had made sure to put enough logs on the fire to keep it burning until my return. 

I opened the door and was met with a brutally cold blast of wind. Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I stepped outside. 

The snow was mushy underneath my boots and I sank slightly with each step. 

My fingers closed around the straps on my pack, snuggly and I walked away from the solace and cozy warmth of the cottage into the alien world beyond. 

\\\\\\

The sun had begun its creeping cadence of descent across the sky and I knew it was best if I turned back and started my own descent back down the mountain. 

It had been an eventful hike. I’d witnessed twin does frolicking and other  manner of peaceful wildlife thriving in the cold. 

I arrived at the edge of a snowy cliff, taking in the view all around me. While the frigid air cut to the bone, the sight before me warmed my heart. 

A beautiful frozen stream lay below-- it was as smooth as glass and shined bright like a tumbled crystal. 

I sat on a nearby rock that jutted out from the snow and slung my pack around. I had packed a heated thermos just for this occasion.

My numb, gloved fingers closed clumsily around the lid and I unscrewed it. The liquid steamed with the air as I poured it into the top and gripped it tightly. 

A shadow fell upon me and I glanced up to find a bird of prey drifting in a lazy circle. 

I lowered my gaze, bringing the steaming tea to my lips and took a long sip.

Everything seemed so serene until it wasn’t. 

In my periphery, a shadow moved and a sentience crossed my own. 

However the energy I now felt was unmistakably lethal. 

Mr. Bill’s warning of the ferocious, chaos-rampaging bear came into my thoughts. 

On my way here, I had seen no signs of such a creature, yet I had found myself repeatedly shaking the unnerving feeling that I was being watched. 

The next seconds would be vital. I needed to know where the foe was to quickly plan my escape. 

I scanned the close outcropping and trees that were my surroundings hoping to catch a glimpse of the menacing bear. 

A white bear pelt was before me, almost invisible in the swirling drifts of snow. 

I squinted, hoping to get a better look at the bear Mr. Bill had warned me about-- instead, I saw a man. 

He was the most captivatingly beautiful creature I had ever seen yet his otherworldliness was a warning and a shock to my system. 

I felt as frozen as the river below me-- mesmerized by the man’s hypnotic, blood-red gaze. 

Fear enveloped me in an instant as I took in his midnight blue skin covered with what appeared to be intricate tattoos. 

What was most shocking, more than his tattooed skin or his red eyes, was his state of near undress. 

The man’s chest was bare and the setting sunlight glinted on his sculpted skin like fire reflecting off of a piece of volcanic glass. 

A white pelt covered his back, which was why I mistakenly thought at first glance he was a wild animal-- and I remained not entirely convinced he was not. The pelt was held together in the front with flashy, golden medallions inscribed with ancient and ethereal symbols. His legs were covered with the same white pelt as his cloak.

I slowly backed away. The heel of my boot thudded against my pack causing it to jostle. I knelt, stretching out my hand to grab at the strap, my fingers flailing frantically in the air. 

The man stepped towards me-- his red eyes burned like two ferocious blood moons in his skull. 

The pack would have to wait. 

I turned, dashing away, a prey animal desperately clinging to the hope of life away from the deadly predator. 

My hair fanned out behind me as if the wind was raking its fingers through it-- trying to pull me back to my destiny. I ran as fast as I was able, my arms pumping back and forth, my breath puffing out in a heavy mist-- a ghost leaving my body. 

With a backward glance, I checked to see if the man was in pursuit.

While my head was turned to analyze the situation, I tripped. My toes stubbed hard into a rock. I went down, bracing for the impact. 

The snow did not soften the blow from the jutting stone slab. A splitting pain ignited my skull. My eyelids fluttered as I tried to remain conscious.

Before everything went black, the beautiful monster’s face loomed before me-- swimming amongst the stars and in truth, it looked like he belonged there. 

Yet, he was arguably more captivating than any constellation. 

\\\\\\\

I drifted, slow as the snow, through wake and sleep. 

I felt as if I was floating or dangling between to dangerous precipes. I would see the man before me, his eyes cutting through the darkness that enveloped us like the cool touch of the dead.   

His bare chest was against me, solid as a wall, feeling both like frigid ice and an erotic, white-hot, soul-searing heat that radiated from within-- two extremes that felt unholy together.

As he carried me further into the dark and through the flurries of falling snow, I was gently rocked back to sleep. 

I woke to the sensation of heat on my face. 

For once on this god-forsaken mountain, I was warm. I wanted to drift back to sleep but my head throbbed painfully, bringing back the memories of what had happened. 

Images flew through my head unwarranted, my cheek against a man’s chest, a white pelt that glowed as bright as the moon tickling my skin, a rhythmic swaying that felt like a safe place to rest. 

I stirred, blinking to clear my double-vision. 

Before me, two red eyes, blood moons engulfed in flames, glowed. I had seen them before. 

I jumped, the man from earlier was watching me. My breath puffed out as my back thudded against solid rock. 

My palms stretched out behind me to feel at the wall of a lichen covered cave. 

The man continued to watch me from the other side of the dancing flames between us. 

He had brought me here, laid me down, started a fire, and covered me in fur blankets-- seemed harmless enough despite his unusual and slightly alarming appearance. 

“Where am I?” My voice echoed off the walls. 

He continued to watch me, “You’ve not left the mountain you found me on.” His voice was smooth yet muted, making it seem like he had not spoken in centuries. And what did he mean, “found him”? I had no desire or plan to get kidnapped by a half-naked man, regardless of how devastatingly attractive he was. 

One thing was certain, the longer I looked at him, the more familiar he seemed-- it was a painful feeling that caused my heart to beat erratically with ache and my lungs feeling fit to burst. 

“Who are you?”

“A ghost from your past; a clouded memory of your future.” A sad look came into those red eyes and I fought the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek in an attempt to chase the shadows of sorrow away. 

My confusion continued to grow. 

“Who are you?” My voice softened and for a moment I wondered if the man had even heard me. 

“I have gone by many names, but you would know me by the name Loki.”

The name shot like a fuse across the darkest recesses of my mind, a lightning strike in my memory. 

I tasted the name on my lips, “Loki.”

My eyes widened with an overwhelming realization. Saying his name seemed to have lifted a block from my memory-- a magic spell that fashioned a key fit to unlock a single door. 

I said it again, missing the taste of it on my tongue, “Loki.”

Each time I spoke his name, he relaxed into the sound of my voice and the hypnotic supplicance of my lips. 

He moved around the fire, his hand reaching out towards my temple. As his fingers lightly brushed against my skin, visions flashed within my mind. 

Of bare skin tangled up together.

Of laughter shared and tears shed.

Of a heartbreaking separation bridging to a union and giving birth to love that was infinite. 

Over and over, time after time until it reached this very moment. 

“I remember you… How is this even possible?”

“You remember now, but you will not remember later.” He paused, “You are lured here each year.”

“Lured?” I asked, but he continued. 

“Each year since our first encounter with one another, you are slowly overcome with a consuming melancholy until you return to me.”

“But you make me forget,” I interjected, anger making my blood pressure rise. I was tired of his riddles.  

He was right, each year since childhood, I’d made my way up the mountain in search of him. First as friends and later as lovers. 

And each year when I would leave, he’d wipe my memory of him. 

He has explained to me numerous times his convictions and reasons and knows his own heartache by remembering me until I return to him. 

“I don’t want to forget.”

“But you must.”

I shifted towards Loki and all the while he watched me, pupils dilated. 

“Not anymore.” My lips found his and as they locked together fireworks burst beyond my vision, my skin burned and my womanhood was overcome with a hungry, insatiable, wet heat that made my clitoris swell. 

Something stirred in me and made me no more than an animal with desires of the same. 

“Not anymore,” I whispered against his lips. 

“Evermore.” His icy breath was a frigid blast that felt like a threat. 

His hand went around my throat, to display his dominance and I submitted. 

“You smell like cinders and smoke,” he whispered. He released my throat and grabbed at a lock of my hair to twirl it around his finger. 

“How fitting,” he reflected, “the only thing to melt the ice of my soul.”

“Take me,” I breathed. 

My flesh held memory of his touch and my breath became ragged as his hand slid along my skin. 

Like fire and ice the world ended, completely consumed. 

Loki climbed above me. His fingers traced the edge of my skin until he found my nipples. He tugged and pulled as arousal swirled deep between my hips. 

His warm lips caressed my neck, drawing lower to my collar bone. His kisses and icy breath caused a trail of goosebumps to raise on my skin. 

With each kiss, each moan, each bump of his hard cock against me I grew more impatient and excited.

His teeth closed around my nipple, and he bit down until I cried out from the sharp pain and then swirling his tongue around them soothingly. He had me. 

All the while longing grew in my belly and I could feel my opening becoming wet for him. 

He continued to suck on my nipples and kiss my heaving breasts while his fingers danced their way to my clit. 

As soon as his fingertips began to caress me, I hissed with pleasure-- the sensation was a riptide that rolled through me. 

His fingers moved around my clit and I came embarrassingly fast, my abdomen tightening until I rose up off the floor of the cave, crying out his name and demanding for more. In the midst of my release, Loki’s hand grabbed his cock and directed it to my opening. 

I could feel it stiffen harshly as it pushed against my inner thigh and then with urgency against my labium. 

My core swelled with arousal as Loki slid into me. 

The sensation that followed was such a complete fullness that made me feel as if I would burst-- the pressure caused a moan to escape my lips. 

“Oh, please,” I begged, “Don’t stop. Fill me up.”

Loki grunted in response and his thrusts deepened as his hips curved and ground against my ass. 

“Take my seed in your slick cunt and I’ll save some for your mouth.”

His words sent me spiraling, the skin around my vagina grew slick with arousal. 

His head bowed towards my breasts and his teeth closed around my nipple-- my eyes watered and I cried out, but it only made him rougher. 

He pushed deeper and his pace quickened. 

A growl rippled through his chest and I felt his cock convulse inside of me as he filled me. 

I hadn’t thought I could feel much fuller, but his cum was heavy in my already full-of-his-cock belly. There couldn’t have been much room but he continued to pump into me. 

I glanced down, sure that I would visibly see the head of his cock buried deep in my lower belly. 

My eyes widened, pupils dilating. 

Loki withdrew himself, dripping wet with the concoction of our combined juices. 

“Open your mouth, let me mark you there.” 

I pushed weakly against him. 

“I’m too full, I couldn’t possibly take anymore,” I pleaded. 

“Open your mouth,” he repeated, his red eyes glowed with a fury that dared me to defy him. 

I parted my lips and he put his index finger my mouth, hooking my jaw up, and elongating my throat to better take his long length in. 

Nothing about Loki’s next movements were gentle. 

His fingers knotted in my hair and he shoved himself over and over again deep in my throat, my saliva coated his length and dripped from his tip whenever he withdrew, his sides heaving. 

My eyes watered, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying myself. 

I glanced at Loki’s towering form before me.

When my eyes met his I sent him over the edge-- a sorceress sucking his soul from his body. 

His abdomen flexed and he bowed over me, his mouth opening while his eyes closed from his pleasure. 

I swallowed him, fighting the urge to spit out what he poured into me, knowing my belly couldn’t take much more-- the pressure from earlier was too intense. 

Amazingly, as if reading my mind, Loki reached down to stroke my swollen-from-arousal-and-cum belly. 

It felt like some immaculate touch; he prodded and massaged it until the feeling of being close to bursting dissipated. 

I sighed with contentedness as Loki settled down beside me. 

“Please, don’t make me forget,” I pleaded. 

I had decided that remembering him and being without him, no matter how painful it was, was better than not at all. 

“I’m truly sorry,” he said as he gathered himself and stood, walking away.

His skin glowed in the firelight, like a ghost flame of the deepest blue. 

If I was ever to remember, now was my chance. 

I searched around for a weapon and ended my search on a nearby smoldering stick cast into the fire. 

My hands closed around it and it shook in my grasp. 

Pain was the only way. 

I grasped the end of the flaming stick within my palm and held back a scream as it ate through my flesh, sizzling. 

When I was sure it had done enough damage I threw the stick back into the flames. 

Loki returned, his arms full of firewood to replenish the flames. 

He reached towards me and I grabbed his outstretched hand. 

I stood and hugged him, hearing his heart, my cheek flush against his bare chest.

“Until we meet again.” His voice rumbled like muted thunder in my ear.

Loki’s cool fingers went to my temple, as he cradled my head to his chest, all the memories he had given to me before, my most prized possessions, he took away. Just. Like. That. 

I awoke the next morning in the cottage, tucked underneath several blankets. 

Out of habit, my hand went to the nightstand fumbling around in search of my phone. On it were several messages from Mr. Bill about missing the dinner and his fear that something had happened. 

My hand throbbed. 

Something had happened and though it was fuzzy on the edges it would become clearer with time. 

I was certain, as it was my fate, that I would soon find my way back through that path among the stars until I was in Loki’s embrace once more. 

***** Hope you all enjoyed this fic. Please take a moment to leave some feedback, reblog and like.  If you would like to be tagged in any future fics please send me an ask.  Peace, Loki’s Pet Tiger

PS thank you @tehgvicious​ for beta-ing! 

[keelywolfe]

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 4 (Mafia AU)

Summary:  The continuation of Rus’s terrible, awful, no good, really bad day

Tags: Spicyhoney, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

Warnings: Some violence. A wee bit of unwanted touching and some innuendo.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

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Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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The long ride through the city streets gave Rus a chance to gather up his scattered wits and once he got them back into the right order, he still only knew one thing for sure. He was seriously pissed off.

It was pretty obvious that this was all Edge’s fault, didn’t have to be a rocket surgeon to figure that out. Before Edge, Rus had stood at a lifetime score of zero when it came to kidnapping and after Edge started coming in, Rus was two for two with the extra bonus of their shop getting wrecked, and repaired, along the way.

Who the hell was this guy?

Flat out asking probably wasn’t gonna get him any answers and Rus settled for staring moodily out the car windows, absently noting the street signs even if they were all but meaningless to him. Rus didn’t know the city very well, that’s why he had google maps on his phone…he groaned inwardly as he realized his phone was missing. Fuck, it’d been hard enough to scrounge up the extra cash for that one.

His bag was gone, too, and a discreet check found his wallet was also absent. Not that he thought these guys were the kind to be cleaning out his meager bank account, but it counted for aggravation if nothing else. He’d need to get a new ID, new cards, the limited cash he’d had on him was gone. It was like every time he thought he hit bottom, the universe found another way to yank the rug out from under him.

Rus slumped down, letting his skull drop against the cool window glass as he stared at the blurring scenery.

Wait…they were passing a little corner store that Rus recognized. These streets were ones he knew. They were heading into the Dust Bowl, towards home, and Rus would have felt a lot better about it if Edge hadn’t hinted pretty clearly that Blue and home weren’t the same place right now.

He went on to prove it by driving past the residential areas and Rus gave the route that would have set him on his own porch a longing look. What he wouldn’t give to be curled up on his own bed right now, heading into Sleepsville and if any dreams came his way, Rus was gonna stuff them back up the pipe they came from.

Edge drove on and the silence in the car was close to unbearable. Rus wondered what Edge would do if he turned on the radio. Probably not kill him, he’d only just saved his life, but the guy was a criminal per his own lack of denial. Maiming might still be on the table and Rus really needed both of his hands for work.

The place they finally pulled up to was worse than he could have imagined. Rus stared up in horror at the glowing neon lights, so bright they were visible in the daylight, surrounding the huge LCD screen advertising their ‘services’. Places like this were exactly why Blue wanted their store in the Human shopping district.

“are you serious? we’re going to a strip club?” Rus blurted.

He’d never gone into any of the clubs down here in the thirties block; they were nicknamed the dirty thirties for a reason. Even if he’d been curious, which he really, really wasn’t, Blue would have murdered him if he’d put so much as a toe bone across the threshold of one of these places.

He’d been trying not to look at Edge, better to focus out the window than on the façade of a handsome face overtop whatever criminal awfulness lay beneath it. Now Rus turned to see Edge was rolling down the window, speaking in a hushed voice to another Dog Monster in a nice suit. Yeah, just like the guys from his first venture into kidnapping and Rus wasn’t any kind of Sherlock Holmes, but even he could add 1 +1 = bullshit.

Edge only glanced at him with a flick of crimson eye lights, “This is my place of business, yes.”

The Dog stepped back, and the car eased down the narrow alleyway between the buildings. Rus barely choked back a cry of surprise as Edge abruptly veered the wheel into a hairpin turn right towards the building. The brick wall loomed and then vanished into a sort of tunnel, cutting off the afternoon sunshine. An underground parking area, Rus realized, and there was no old clunker of a van with a rose on the side painstakingly painted in his brother’s hand in sight. All the cars here resembled the one he was already in, sleek and shiny, every single one of them worth more than their shop with all its blooms and their house combined.

Edge pulled into an empty spot and shut off the engine. It only made the silence that much worse, bleak and complete. He started to turn towards Rus, hesitating when Rus flinched back helplessly, strangling on a yelp before it could be the first thing to fill the quiet.

“Easy,” Edge said, and there was a new inflection for that deep voice, one that Rus hadn’t heard before. Manners he’d gotten at the shop and this morning, anger. Today it was coaxing, almost a croon, trying to soothe him like Rus was a lost pet and something about that comparison stirred his already agitated temper. Edge reached over and Rus might’ve damn well bitten him, but he didn’t touch. His expression only darkened as his gloved fingertips hovered over the side of Rus’s face where it ached the most. He was probably bruised up, whoever nabbed him at the shop this morning had popped him a good one.

“Easy,” Edge said again, in that same cozening voice, “you’re safe here. Let’s go inside.”

"no." Rus crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back into the leather seat, scowling down in the direction of the glove box. The front of his apron was dotted with marrow, dried to a tacky maroon against the heavy dark green fabric. Rus scratched at one of the spots, watched as it flaked away into dust, but the stain remained. Probably even Blue’s terrifyingly efficient laundry skills wouldn’t be able to get it out.

There was a beat of silence, then, "What?"

"no!” Rus said again, infusing that single word with all the irritation and fear of the day, letting it pour out as he added. “i'm not getting out of this car until you explain to me what's going on."

He glanced at Edge out of the corner of his eye, half-expecting another round of that anger from this morning. Instead, he looked nonplussed, his brow bone drawn down into a frown. Suddenly, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked smile. "So. You want to sit here in my car with me, alone, is that what you're saying?"

Startled, Rus’s head jerked up and Edge’s amused gaze was suddenly closer, the much-larger skeleton leaning over the gearshift right into his space and bracing his arm against the passenger side door. His bulk seemed to fill in any room that Rus wasn’t already taking up and Rus’s back was already pressed tight against the plush cushion of the seat. There was nowhere else to go as he sputtered out, "w-what?"

This close, the heady aroma Edge’s cologne was overwhelming, enormous, and worse, there was a hint of spice paired with it, a whiff of roused magic that paired with the sudden heat of his body so close to Rus’s. The only light was whatever overhead fluorescents could make it through the tinted windows and Edge’s scarlet eye lights tracing along Rus’s bruised face again. That voice Rus found so enticing before sent a strange tingle down his spine as Edge murmured, "My enemies already think you're mine. Perhaps you should be."

What. The. Fuck.

"i don't belong to anyone!" It sounded so weak, less a denial and more a sad kind of plea, which was stupid, because Rus wasn’t one of the flowers in their shop, he wasn’t something that could be owned, thank you very much!

"No?" Edge picked up his hand, prying it gently away from where it frantically gripped the side of his seat. Where his sleeve rode up, Rus could see the shadow of bruises left earlier by the ropes and he could only stared dumbly as Edge nuzzled at those mottled blotches, a light kiss on the inside of his wrist made Rus shudder, not in revulsion, no, he couldn’t name that feeling. Edge’s grip was so gentle, more cradling than holding and Rus could have pulled away if he wanted to, broken that hold so easily. So why wasn’t he?

"no…” Rus tried to protest, strengthless and lost, “you don't even know my name."

"I don't, you're correct in that," Edge agreed. He pressed another light kiss to Rus’s wrist, nudging his sleeve further up to investigate where the bone was unmarked and pure. "But I know you. You work all day in your little shop until noon when your brother comes in to relieve you for your lunch, which you go to eat at the corner park."

That woke him out of the daze that rich voice wove around him, innocuous as a spider’s web and twice as insidious. At least with a spider, you knew what they wanted from you. “you…you've been spying on me!"

"No,” Edge denied. His breath was hot against Rus’s bare wrist, his teeth scraping lightly against the slender, delicate bones as he spoke, “We have another place of business down the road from your shop and I can see the park from my office. I see you sitting alone on the bench, eating your sandwich and feeding crumbs to the birds and squirrels. I don’t know your name, but I saw your smile when I came into your shop. I know more of you than you might think."

He moved then, with a blurring speed, his face inches from Rus’s as he said, softly, "I am a very bad person, flower shop boy. If you saw my soul, you'd know that. And you…"

“please,” Rus whispered. He didn’t know what he was asking for.

His voice grew softer yet, almost a subsonic rumble. Hardly more than a breath as Rus stared up at Edge with sockets so wide, they ached. "You were a step into the sunshine out of the darkness. A fantasy that I never wanted made reality and yet, now you’re here and it is becoming very difficult to not embrace the dream. Now. Do you want to go inside, or would you rather stay here with me to discuss this further?”

The last was said with a sardonic lilt and it took a moment for Rus to realize he’d stopped talking, the former silence was overshadowed by the throb of his soul, so loud in his head Rus wondered wildly if Edge could hear it, too.

But the spell was well and truly broken and if this were only a ploy to get him out of the car, it worked. Rus opened the passenger door so quickly he nearly slammed it into a concrete support beam, almost falling onto the pavement in his effort to scramble away.

Edge exited with better grace, his smooth gait carrying him to where Rus still wobbled on his feet. “Inside, it is,” Edge drawled, his mouth tilted into a smirk, “Do you need help?”

“i can walk on my own!” Rus wasn’t so sure he could, but he wasn’t about to let this asshole carry him again. He let Edge get a few steps between them before he followed, staying out of arm’s reach. Pointless effort, the first place Edge led him was a service elevator, where Rus was forced to stand right next to him surrounded by stark wooden paneling and glaring overhead lights.

But when the door opened again, it was into far more lush surroundings. Ornate carpets ran down a hallway subtly lit with ornate sconces. On the left was a neutrally painted wall lined with artwork that was miles above the league of the cheap prints in their house from the thrift shop. On the right there was a row of angular glass, almost like skylights, looking down.

The glass was tinted and if television could be believed, Rus figured it was probably one-way. He lingered back as Edge walked on, peering down. They looked down into the club below them, the stage lights dimmed through the tint.

From this angle, Rus thought he could see the entire ground floor. The bar was furthest away, with its collection of tiny-looking bottles ready to be used by ant-sized bartenders. He could see the patrons sitting at their tables, the occasional glint of a glass as it was raised, and the stage itself with a scattering of poles.

There were only two dancers, probably it was too early to put on any kind of real show, and they were making the most of their minuscule audience. A searing blush heated Rus’s cheekbones as he watched a scantily clad Bun slide languidly down a slim pole to her high heels, strutting over to kneel in front of one of the Humans in the audience, cupping her bared breasts as if in offering.

“If you wanted to see the show, we could have gone in through the front door.”

Rus jerked, looking up wildly to find Edge waiting at the end of the hallway, his face unreadable.

“how can you run a place like this?” Rus burst out. He jabbed an accusing finger at the display below them. “how can you abuse your own people for money?”

“All of our staff is fairly compensated for their work,” Edge countered, “which a more than they could say if they worked for the Humans. Now come along.”

That sounded more like an order than anything else had and Rus grudgingly obeyed. It was a shameful relief; he didn’t really want to see some guy shoving bills into a mostly-nude woman’s g-string, anyway. He hunched down, his skull low between his shoulders and followed.

The second door led to another hallway, this one completely enclosed. More expensive carpets and artwork, more intricate wall sconces that made Rus feel like he was in weird, modern version of Dracula. Except this was only like, office space above a rinky-dink strip club so why did it feel like they were walking forever?

“why did you even bring me here?” Rus grumbled, trudging along as he watched his untied shoelaces bump along the carpet. “you told me you were taking me to my brother. i want to go home.”

“I did say that and I am,” Edge agreed. Stupid how even now that voice sent a trill up his spine, why was he such an idiot, anyway? “But I’m afraid you can’t go home, not yet. Nor can you go to your shop.”

Home wasn’t entirely unexpected, all things considered, and the shop shouldn’t have been, if he’d bothered to think about it. Rus halted, dismayed, “but our store—we were supposed to get the new coolers this morning!”

“It’s been taken care of.”

“more help? great. i think we’ve had more than enough help from you!”

"You really don't have a choice. This is my fault, so I’m going to keep you safe." Said matter-of-factly, with no room left for debate or argument.

That didn’t mean Rus wasn’t going to try. "i don't want you to keep me safe! i don’t want anything to do with you or any of this...” He gestured wildly at the walls, the carpets, club that couldn’t even be seen. “this horrible place!"

Edge halted so abruptly that Rus nearly ran into his back, half-tripping over his own laces. He looked up into Edge’s stoic face defiantly, silently daring him to contradict him.

“No one talks to me like that.” But Edge wasn’t angry. It was more like he was marveling over it, almost pleased, and Rus didn’t know what that meant, he didn’t know what any of this meant. All he knew was his head ached and frustrated tears were starting to gather at the corners of his sockets, held back only be sheer determination.

He fought to keep from squirming under that penetrating gaze and it, well, it softened, somehow, it was the only way to explain it. “Come on,” Edge said, again, and instead of leading, he silently shepherded Rus to walk next to him, a hand hovering without touching at the small of Rus’s back as a guide.

They finally stopped outside of one of the doors that was as nondescript as any of them rest of them. Edge knocked briefly, in a weird rat-tat-tat pattern, then opened the door.

After everything, Rus still wasn’t sure what to expect and this luxurious office definitely wasn’t on his mental list. A large, ornate wooden desk dominated the room though there wasn’t a scrap of paper in sight, surrounded by leather chairs and sofas. There was a side bar with various sized bottles and a tray of clean glasses, and the walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with leather-bound volumes that had Rus mentally salivating; he could only imagine what information was in them, much better than the meager offerings of the local library.

Better yet, Blue was sitting in an oversized leather chair, still in his work uniform and almost disappearing into the thick cushions. He struggled to his feet with a cry, running over with both arms outstretched to Rus. Who dropped to his knees, clinging to his big brother as he hadn’t since the day they came to the surface and with almost the same mix of emotions, fear and joy.

“Brother, I was so worried!” Tears brimmed in Blue’s sockets and overflowed down his rounded cheekbones. His starry eye lights dimmed as he reached up to lightly touch the bruises on the side of Rus’s face, too gently to cause even a hint of pain.

“i’m okay, blue, seriously,” Rus told him. But he didn’t let go, leaning into those comforting arms.

“ain’t that sweet, a family reunion.”

That made Rus jerk, turning to see a burly skeleton almost as broad was he was tall coming from around the desk. He wasn’t much taller than Blue and in his sharky grin was a glinting gold tooth. One that might shine even in the dim light in the backseat of a car.

“Brother, this is Red,” Blue gestured towards the squat skeleton, who was lighting a cigar, “Edge’s brother. He told me what happened.”

“did he?” Rus said, as neutrally as he could manage when he was staring face-first at the skeleton who’d offered him a chance to ‘make it a double’ that morning, whatever the hell that meant.

“yep,” Red said agreeably. His crimson eye lights glittered with dark amusement as he grinned around his cigar. “glad you’re okay, flower shop, musta been a hell of an ordeal, eh, bro?”

Edge was standing by the door, arms crossed over his broad chest. His face twisted as if he was tasting something sour and he said nothing.

Blue only nodded, mopping away his tears with a clean hankie, “When I got to the shop and it wasn’t open, I was so afraid, brother! I had no idea that there was any,” he lowered his voice as if he might be overheard by someone nefarious, never suspecting that the bad guys were already in the room, “gang activity in our area and I’ve no idea why they would target us, but Red assured me they can help us handle it.”

“and fer a very reasonable fee,” Red added with mocking cheer.

“A fee!” Rus spluttered, “but all this is—” Their fault, Rus couldn’t say, not when Blue began scolding.

“Now, brother, I understand how you feel, but honestly, it’s not fair to expect them to help us for free. They’re businessmen and they can’t simply offer charity,” Blue lowered his voice, whispering, “and if we have their help, then I won’t have to worry about you.” He turned to Edge then and said with trembling gratitude, “Thank you, for bringing him back to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Edge said gravely, and Rus seethed inwardly even as there came another knock at the door, that same rat-ta-tat as before. Edge cracked it open to reveal another Dog, this time in what looked like a butler’s uniform, like he’d stepped right out of the movie ‘Clue’ after taking tips from Tim Curry. “Please, show our guests to their room. They’ll be staying with us for a few days.”

The Dog nodded, waiting as Blue offered more profuse thank you’s for them ‘saving’ him and if Blue thought anything of Red’s wide grin and Edge’s calm silence, it didn’t show. He followed the Dog and Rus started to trail behind him.

“Wait.” A hand on his arm made Rus pause and he looked up at Edge, biting back what he wanted to say even as he looked uncomprehendingly at the thin black rectangle that suddenly appeared between Edge’s fingers. “Here.”

It was his missing phone. Rus snatched it away, powering it on and he couldn’t help but notice the wifi was already connected. Like someone had bypassed his password and took a peek, sonuvabitch.

Blue was looking at him expectantly and Rus muttered, “thank you,’ before hastily escaping out the door.

The room they were led to was almost as big as their entire house. There was a wide bed topped with down-filled pillows and a heavy duvet, surrounded by curtains that were pointless in a room with no windows. On the other side of the room was a sitting area with a wide sofa and on the coffee table there were a couple of trays with domed covers that could only be dinner. A shame Rus didn’t think he’d feel like eating for about a decade or so. A disinterested poke at the remote on the side table opened a panel to show a large television screen that Rus didn’t bother to turn on.

What a weird place, the inside seemed bigger than the out, like an evil Tardis or something.

Rus flopped down on the bed without even stripping off his apron, toeing off his sneakers to let them plop down to the floor. That Blue didn’t scold him for making mess was a pretty good tell of his mood. Instead, Blue boosted himself up onto the mattress, crawling across the wide expanse to sit next to Rus and his hand was gentle as he smoothed it over Rus’s skull. Rus let him, didn’t draw away as he considered what he wanted to say.

“blue,” Rus hesitated, and said carefully, “i don’t know if getting involved with these guys is such a good idea.”

His brother surprised him, admitting, “I’m not sure, either. But they said they can help us,” Blue offered him a tremulous smile. “Business has been a little on the slow side and we lost that money to that horrible thief we hired. Red told me they can help support us until we get the insurance money. Things will be better, then, I’m sure of it.”

Rus closed his sockets tightly, swallowing down any other objections, because he knew that tone. Things had been tough lately, he knew that, but his brother’s false cheer told a clear story that Blue hadn’t been updating him like he should’ve. If they didn’t go along with this, they’d lose everything.

They didn’t have a choice.

“sure, bro,” Rus tried to force some enthusiasm into it, wasn’t sure if he succeeded. He gave it about a fifty-fifty shot.

“You must be exhausted,” Blue said, still petting his skull, “You don’t need to talk about what happened right now, let me heal that for you and then you can get some rest.” Fiercely, he added, “It will be all right, brother, you’ll see!”

That soothing, familiar touch drifted down his bruised cheekbone, fingertips going warm as Blue pushed healing into the injured bone. Getting healed always made Rus sleepy and he drifted off before his brother could finish, basking in his Blue’s gentle affection and care.

When he woke, the room was dark and Blue was asleep beside him, the bed so large they didn’t touch even with their arms outstretched. He fumbled for his phone, squinting at the too-bright screen that told him it was after midnight. As late as it was and as exhausted, he still couldn’t fall back asleep, his weary thoughts tumbling over and over themselves, an endless thumping dryer inside his mind.

They’d be staying for a few days, Edge said. Days of the shop being closed, days of the flowers not being properly tended, stock lost along with missing out on deliveries, walk-in purchases, any sales at all. Blue said Red offered to help but, what if that was all for show? They could lose the shop and if they did, the house would be next. Everything they’d worked so hard for.

This was all Edge’s fault, yeah, sure, and Rus still didn’t know exactly why, but it was the truth. A truth that didn’t even matter because lying here fuming about it wasn’t helping. What he needed to do was make sure Edge forced his brother to keep his promises to help them and Rus wasn’t sure how. It wasn’t like he had anything to barter, even the shop was technically in Blue’s name.

Except. There was one thing Rus knew that Edge wanted. Oh, he’d tried to deny it this morning and then went the complete opposite way this afternoon, but Rus was pretty sure he understood what was up with that. A failed attempt to protect him from…whoever, at this point Rus should probably start a list…and beneath that was the truth.

Edge wanted him, that much Rus knew and maybe if he…if Rus gave it to him. Maybe if he offered to give Edge whatever he wanted, they could be sure their shop was safe.

Lying in the wide, unfamiliar bed, Rus swallowed hard. In his daydreams, he’d been eager for something like this, tumbling into bed with his tall, mysterious stranger and even now that Rus knew the truth, a faint warmth throbbed once between his legs at the thought.

His soul was less certain, shrinking back in his rib cage. Rus ignored it, slipping out from between the sheets. All he had to do was offer and endure, who knew, he might even like it. Didn’t matter if he did. If it kept their shop open, Rus would do whatever it took.

It was worth a shot.

tbc

Read Next Chapter

[phoebehalliwell]

Phoebe/Coop au where, instead of Spencer Ricks (which was a gross storyline and I can't believe they did it once, let alone twice), Phoebe gets into an advice-off with a mysterious new columnist whose advice is neck and neck with hers and she hates it. He calls himself something silly, like The Love Doctor, or Stupid Cupid, some name that people just love, and she hates that, too.

RIVALS TO LOVERS PHOEBE X COOP????? god the vibe. it’s be like the leslie/phoebe thing only like. well written (hopefully lmao). bc like. u know phoebe would be bitching about this about this guy constantly. and piper and paige would be like uh huh. yeah. yeah uh huh. yep. yeah totally. yeah. uh huh. hey have you ever considered that- no, yeah, uh huh. but like- yeah. uh huh. yeah, totally. uh huh. and phoebe’s totally viewing coop as My Arch Nemesis The One Thing Standing Between Me And Glory and coop sees phoebe as Wow She’s So Cool And Such A Great Writer I’m So Glad We’re Acquaintances. and then like,, in a modern au, elise devises some grand plan to appeal to them youths or whatever with like a podcast like a I Left My Heart in San Francisco: Two Local Columnists Offer Two Different Takes on Loss, Love, & Life and like phoebe’s constantly determined to like one up coop like she is consistently raising the bar giving top notch advice and coop keeps meeting her at her level and it’s driving her insane and at this point coop’s well aware what he’s doing and he’s not gonna stop bc it’s like he’ll give some like tender, soulful advice about being vulnerable and respecting your partner and phoebe just looks at him like he’s proposed actively capturing seabirds for the sole purpose of covering them in oil and he thinks it’s hilarious. because he knows she like needs to be the best advice columnist love guru in town and he knows she’s infuriated that he’s giving her a run for her money and he knows she has no idea she’s going toe to toe with an actual real life cupid and he knows that when she thinks he isn’t paying attention, she actually smiles at his advice and stupid little jokes. oh and all these lil genzennials with their dumb little love podcast totally start shipping them together and they’ll send in questions to the podcast like dear phoebe & coop: i think i’m in love with the cohost of my podcast. how can i tell if they feel the same way? and elise sees this question and immediately bumps it up to the top of the queue and phoebe sees it and like almost threatens to walk like elise this is clearly a gimmick this is just some dumb prank i can’t believe you’re actually feeding into this bc like it’s obvious like coop and i hate each other so i don’t even know why this would even be like a thing like it’s so ridiculous who would even who would even like you know even think- and elise would be like okay first off this whole this is a gimmick obvi so jot that down secondly how do you know this isn’t a real issue someone has hmm would you really just deny somebody advice just because they are in a situation similar to yours. third. many of us women out there wish we could find someone who ““hates”” us in the way you and coop. obviously. do. and phoebe’s all like ohhhh i am so not I Am So Not Doing you don’t think i’ll walk huh you think you’ve just got me in your little pocket well i am willing and Ready To leave right now your gonna watch my ass walk right out that door just you wait SMASH CUT TO: (podcast voice) so i think the best thing to do in the situation is remember that you are both in a professional setting, and that what chemistry some might think you have might be performances, augmented for the audience. and coop goes on to take the exact opposite stance and he’s smiling his stupid smile at phoebe the whole time and she tries glaring back but she can’t bc like fuck he’s really cute and charming and her mouth keeps twitching up in the corners which only like makes coop smile more so phoebe like has to divert her attention to her phone and she’s texting piper like can i vanquish my cohost? and piper’s like id prefer it if u didn’t and then afterwards coop’s like hey can we talk you know like blah blah blah i don’t want to make u feel uncomfortable blah blah blah if you don’t wanna do the podcast anymore like- and paige orbs in and phoebe’s like whoops gotta go family emergency bye!!!!!!!! and then paige is like idk demon!! blah blah blah and like paige has the vanquishing potions and phoebe’s scrying and she’s talking about coop the whole time and paige is like okay but like demon vanquish and phoebe gets a read and it’s still like the bay mirror and she’s like ohmygod it’s coop it has to be i knew he was evil and paige is like let me see that so they orb back to the bay mirror and phoebe’s like all suspicious and paige is like all confused and they don’t see any telltale signs and paige is like give me that and like scrys and gets like idk alameda so paige is like okay we’re going there and they go there and there’s the demon and they vanquish it woohoo but then phoebe’s like but no coops suspicious bc like why when i was scrying earlier did it give my the bay mirror and paige is like idk maybe bc you were scrying with your heart instead of your head and phoebe’s like !!! what is that supposed to mean?? and paige is like dear phoebe & coop: my sister is hopelessly in love with her podcast cohost / rival, but still pretends like she hates him. how do i tell her that this little act is driving me up the wall????? and phoebe’s like oh my god you’re unbelievable you’re way off base you’re totally out of line and piper’s like hi please don’t make me dust off my middle child boots again what’s going on and phoebe’s paige is Accusing me of being in love with coop and paige is like yeah! because it’s true! and phoebe’s like oh did you cast a power swapping spell without me knowing because last time i checked i was the empath here!! and piper’s like oh boy. okay. paige, go cool off can u check on wyatt at magic school phoebe paige is right and paige sticks out her tongue at phoebe and orbs out and phoebe’s like !!!! and piper’s like acht! and phoebe’s like but!!!! and piper’s like acht! and phoebe’s like >:( and piper’s like look you’ve been burned in the past i get it we’ve all been hurt before but phoebe love is your strength it’s your greatest power and you can’t run from it and phoebe’s like i’m not running from it! and piper just like looks at her and phoebe’s like okay maybe i’m running from it a little but- and piper looks at her and phoebe’s like yeah :/ and piper gives her a hug and like sisterly advice and phoebe and coop are married like within a year it’s a really cute local event the chronicle tweeted about it.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Don’t Be Too Late

      “They’ll be here,” my mother soothed from my bedside. Beneath her voice was the consistent beep and drone of the machines keeping an eye on me and the baby. My mother squeezed my fingers. “Just relax, Y/N. They’ll be here.”

           I shook my head, one hand pressed against the side of my belly. “They won’t make it. He’s too early and they’re too far away.” I blinked away tears, pleading silently with my unborn son to hold on just a little longer. “They’re going to miss it.”

           “No, sweetheart. Those boys will move heaven and earth to get here for this.” My mother smiled, talking about Matt and Nick and our chosen life with ease. It had taken her a long time to get used to the idea, but seeing the three of us together—then five when Mattie and Nicole came along—warmed her to the notion. “They’re resourceful after all these years. Trust me. Trust them.”

           My mother- and father-in-law sat on a little two-person sofa against the wall, occupying my daughters as we waited the arrival of their baby brother. I could only hope that their fathers made it back in time.

           On the bedside table, my phone rang. I picked it up to see Nick’s picture on the screen, a facetime call waiting. I tapped the screen and tried to school the worry off my face. “Hey,” I said, surprised by the calm in my voice.

           “Y/N, we’re on the way!” The phone bounced, the background a bobbing blur. I could just catch sight of Matt at Nick’s shoulder. “We got a red-eye that takes off in ten minutes. Just hold on, we’re coming home.”

           I smiled, even though I felt like crying. “I’m trying. I promise.”

           “We know you are, Mama. I promise… we’ll be there before he’s born,” he vowed. The camera settled, and I could see Matt handing over IDs and tickets in the background.

           “You can’t promise that, Nick.”

           The picture blurred and Matt’s face took over the screen. His brown eyes were dark and serious. “We will be there. Whatever we have to do. You relax. Breathe. And tell our little guy to hold on just a little bit longer.”

           My heart ached at the certainty in his voice. “Hurry.”

           “We are,” Nick’s panicked voice said in the background. I could see his profile, and there was fear etched in the line of his jaw. Matt thumped his brother on the back in solidarity before sending their love and saying goodbye.

***

           Heavy contractions woke me in the early hours of the morning. My water had broken the day before, and the contractions had been getting stronger over the course of the night. I knew enough from having Mattie and Nicole to recognize that time was running short. The baby would be here soon. Too soon.

           My mother started from the chair by my bed at the sound of my groaning. She pushed my hair back from my forehead. “Breathe, Y/N,” she coached softly. “Just breathe.”

           “I can’t hold on…” I whined. “They’re not here. I can’t wait. I can’t do this without them.”

           “You’re strong, my girl,” my mother whispered. “You can do it because you have to. They’re counting on you.”

           “Momma…”

           There was a thumping noise followed by a violently loud squeaking in the hallway. The door burst open and Matt and Nick spilled into the room, suitcases, backpacks and all. A rush of relief spilled over Nick’s face as he saw me and quickly realized that they hadn’t missed their son’s birth. He crossed the room, nearly tripping over his backpack in the process, and pressed his forehead against mine. His hands came up to cradle my face as he kissed me soundly.

           “We’re here,” he breathed, his voice cracking. “I told you we’d be here. I promised you. We’re here.”

           I hugged him close, not caring that I was crying and gasping as another contraction hit. Matt joined the other side of the bed a bit more gracefully than his brother. He smiled down at me and settled one hand gently on my belly. “I told you, we’re not missing moments like this ever again,” he said, brushing his fingers over my cheek. Then he turned to look at my belly and gave it a faint, playful scowl. “Even if you are eight days early.”

           Nick brushed my hair back from my face, pulling it back into a loop and securing it with the rubber band around his wrist. He kissed my head and laced our fingers together as another contraction doubled me over.

           “I’ll go get the nurse,” my mother said, smiling at her sons-in-law as she left. My in-laws had gone home with the girls, leaving me alone with the brothers.

           They settled into place on either side of me, their hands wrapped around mine firmly. Matt watched me with his dark eyes, his thumb stroking along the back of my fingers. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

           “And strong,” Nick added, kissing my knuckles.

           I couldn’t answer. The air was punched straight out of my lungs as a contraction swept over me. They were so close together now that I was certain the baby was coming. He would be here any minute.

           “And brave,” Matt continued. “And better than we deserve.”

***

           I dripped with sweat as I pushed. It felt like the labor was taking forever, though I knew it wasn’t any longer than it had been with Mattie and Nicole. The pressure was intense, and it felt as if my hips were being pulled apart.

           “You’re almost there,” Nick said, his forehead against my temple, He held my hand in one of his while the other curled around my back. He kissed my sweat-soaked hair. “You’re doing so good, Y/N.”

           “I can’t,” I whimpered, gritting my teeth as I pushed as hard as I could. “I can’t…”

           “Yes, you can,” he encouraged. “You’ve almost done it.”

           The doctor looked up. She was the OBGYN who had delivered Mattie and Nicole, and she had long ago gotten familiar with our predicament. “One more big push, Y/N.”

           Matt braced his arm against my back, squeezing my hand tightly. “One more, Mama. One more, you can do it.”

           Together, the brothers braced me between them. They breathed against the sides of my head, both whispering encouraging words in my ears as I sucked in a breath. When the next contraction came, I bore down, digging my nails into their hands as I held on. It hurt and it burned and it felt like my insides were being pulled out as I pushed and pushed.

           I screamed and felt as if I’d been ripped apart, and then I heard the sweet, shrill cry of my newborn son. The tears came and I didn’t try to stop them. A moment passed with Matt and Nick kissing the sides of my head, both of them sniffling and crying too. And then, the doctor stood and placed a wriggling, still screaming bundle on my chest. The brothers let go of my hands as I cradled our son against my skin. I kissed the top of his head, grinning and crying with happiness.

           “You did so great, Y/N,” Nick said, looking down at the baby in my arms. He cradled my head in his hand and kissed my forehead.

           “He’s beautiful,” Matt said, wiping his eyes with the end of his shirt. “You did so good, Mama. So good.”

           I couldn’t take my eyes off the little boy against my chest. He was perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, dark brown hair and alert eyes to match. “Hi, sweetheart. Hi, baby.”

           They let me cradle him for a few moments before they took him away to be weighed and dressed. But before then, the doctor let Matt cut his chord. Nick watched, stroking his fingers against my sweaty hair.

***

           When I woke up a few hours later, Matt and Nick were sitting on the sofa, their heads together over the phone in Matt’s hand, a pair of headphones shared between them. There was a blanketed bundle in Nick’s arms, a little blue bonnet peeking up over the top. I stayed still for a while and watched them. Every little bit, Nick would look back at our son and his face would light up with a smile that made my heart break with happiness.

           “Hey, Mama,” Matt said when he saw that I was awake. He pulled the headphones from his ear and stood, Nick following in his wake. “How do you feel?”

           I smiled. “Exhausted. But it was all worth it.”

           Nick sat on the edge of the bed. “Thank you,” he said, sniffling as he tried not to cry again. “For being his mom. For being our wife.”

           Before I could answer, Matt grinned. “He’s waking up. Hey, little guy. You ready to see Mama?”

           Matt helped me to sit up while Nick settled our son in my arms. He watched me with wide brown eyes, his rosebud mouth opening and closing as Nick helped get the shoulder of my gown down. Once I settled him near my breast, our son latched on and began to feed.

           Nick snapped a picture and smiled at the two of us. “Lee Jackson,” he said with reverence. I glanced up to see him looking at his brother. The two of them grinned at one another before turning to me.

           “We’ve got the Young Does,” Matt said playfully. “One more and we’ve got the Young Bucks Volume Two.”

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@mox-made-me-do-it​

[another-dr-another]

Nuclear Fission

Why are cleaning supplies scented like citrus? I don’t like it. It’s too much; it’s senseless. All it does is add to the weight in the air. It doesn’t mask the chemicals, I can still feel that you’re here. I know that you’re watching. I know you need me to pass judgement. Why did you make it so we can feel lightning before it hits? I wish I were a symphony’s conductor, I wish that the cacophony was one I could control. I thought black holes were empty. Why do I feel the pressure of everything I’m pulling in?

I don’t want to know you. If I open my eyes, then the world will start spinning again, then you’ll start traveling to The Great Attractor. It’ll go faster as you get closer. You won’t have any time. If I blink, I’ll bleed. Don’t you feel the static? Isn’t your every nerve on fire? For every atom to be seen, for every person to be known, to understand is to dissolve. Is to save to destroy? Is that a true desire? I’m sorry you can only exist to define a deceptive delusion. I wish that the truth wasn’t found in the blood stuck under nails. 

Let me close my eyes. Let me disappear under the judgement I pass, as I am asked to sin for the sake of being holy. Allow me to die for my own sin, as I have been told to do.  May the executioner die for killing a murderer. To rest on your neck, reach around past your collarbone, settle on your sternum, and slice down. If I could bleed for you. If I could bleed. If there were anything left. 

Split the atom, unwind the DNA. Cut through to your core, feed from your stomach. Keep your eyes open, and allow me to see. Watch.

…Would you listen to me speak, if it were incomprehensible honesty?

And as the lord wills it…

//Struggling against the harsh lights overhead, Maeda’s eyes open.

~*~ 

???1 - Look, there we go, he’s waking up.

???2 - Oh, is he really coming to? 

???3 - Smelling salts! Told ya they’d work.

???1 - I doubt that was it… did you even open them before he woke up?

???3 - I thought I did… did you see when he woke up?

???2 - No, I was busy- oh, hey, hey, it’s all alright!

//As the three voices bickered, Maeda continued trying to adjust to the lights beaming directly into his eyes.

???2 - Here, let me just…

//Suddenly, it dims, allowing Maeda to finally orient himself some- a pair of tan hands are hovering a few feet from his eyes, blocking the light from hitting them. 

???2 - That better for you?

???2 - You’re okay, Maeda, you’re okay…

???1 - Well, my work here is done.

//To Maeda’s left, a figure shifts, standing up, and walking off.

???3 - You’ve got this?

???2 - Mhm!

//Maeda glances to the right, just to see the person sitting there leave as well.

Maeda - What’s happening? Are we going? Do I need to get up too?

//Groaning, Maeda does his best to sit up. 

???2 - Oh! Okay, upsy-daisy…

//By the time Maeda has processed the warmth on his back and arms as being a pair of hands helping him to stand, the person behind him leaves, moving to join the crowd in front of him.

 ???4 - …It’s kind of creepy for us to all be congregated here, staring at him…

???5 - Honestly, I’m more concerned about the fact he’s up already… is that really okay?

//The boy speaking snaps his fingers, prompting Maeda to look at him. It might be concern in his green eyes, or…

???5 - Are you anemic or something, Maeda,

//…Or maybe Maedas just bad at reading people- why would you ask someone a question like that with that sort of tone?!

???3 - Well, he’s not possessed, and that’s about where my skills end…

???3 - Though, he kinda looks haunted…

???1 - Thank you for your oh-so-professional opinion. We were all truly so excited to hear it.

Maeda - How… did you know my name?

???5 - …Really?

???6 - Maeda, dude.

//The sixth unknown person, a tall, tall boy, dressed from head to toe in spiky jewelry and black clothes, lifts up one of his wrists and pulls one of the bracelets on it taught. After a moment, Maeda recognizes it- how could he not? The bracelet on the boys wrist is identical to the ID band Maeda wears.

???6 - We just checked your class band.

???2 - We wanted to confirm who you were; everyone here is a member of Class 79-B, finding you brings our numbers up to 15.

???4 - Sorry for referring to you by name when you don’t know us yet…

???7 - Well, he could recognize some of us; unless he’s a total shut in, that is.

???8 - It’s so creepy that there’s all that information out about us…

???6 - Right? Swear to god, I still can’t believe my damn credit card information hasn’t been published yet.

//Honestly, that was one of the more frightening parts of Hopes Peak. All you had to do was tell the school you accepted their offer, and agree to have your name published for their “Class of whatever year” page, then your private information was out in the public eye. Digital sleuths dying for Super High School Level gossip would find everything there was to know about you, practically down to your Individual Number.

Maeda - …Wait, these are my classmates?

Maeda - Okay, hold on… just what’s happening?

Maeda - I… don’t remember passing out…

???9 - I don’t think any of us do…

//Don’t recognize him.

???4 - We all remember showing up on August 23rd for orientation, and then we woke up in a room here. 

???4 - Most of us were sharing a space with someone, you were the last one we found, and the only one alone.

//Pink hair, girl… she’s been in the news, but what’s her talent?

???1 - Fucking weird exception to make…

//Short hair, short in general… she looks like a kid, but there’s a hardened look in her eyes, and a sailors mouth to match. She’s the surgeon.

//???2 rocks back on his heels, ignoring the countless string bracelets on his wrists to twist around his class band. He briefly opens his mouth, starting to speak- before wincing, and coming to a still.

Maeda - …Okay, so… our class specifically was… what, knocked out?

???1 - Uh-huh. None of us have any injuries- no head wounds, no puncture marks, and no recollection of what happened to match.

???10 - I’m sure this is just something the schools put on for us…

???10 - It’s such a prestigious academy, and very unique… I’m sure the staff has some outstanding plan!

???11 - Yeah, no, I don’t trust this for a second.

???11 - This whole thing just feels off, but… safety in numbers, I guess.

Maeda - I still know… nothing about these people…

Maeda - They checked my bracelet, they know I’m good as talentless,

Maeda - And- hey, wait…

Maeda - Why’d you ask if I was anemic if everybody passed out?

???5 - You looked… sick, honestly. Seriously, are you feeling alright?

Maeda - I-I’m fine…

Maeda - This… is awkward…

???12 - …Let’s all introduce ourselves.

???12 - I didn’t hear everyone’s name and talent, and I’ve forgotten many of those that I was told.

???2 - That’s a good idea!

???2 - …Let’s just stick here for a bit, and become more familiar with each other, then we’ll reconvene?

???2 - Going around in a circle and sharing isn’t very fun, so let’s just break off some, okay?

//Nobody in the class disagrees, with those who do respond giving their support to the idea.

???2 - Great, great!

???2 - Since we’re not quite sure what happened, if anyone starts to feel unwell, come get me, okay?

???2 - I’m trained in everything from life sustaining measures to mental health support, and in situations like this,

???2 - It’s extra important you ask other people for help if you need it.

~*~

Maeda, narrating - Everyone seems to have found someone to talk to…

Maeda - Oh! Here’s some people I can maybe talk with…

Maeda - I’d hate to interrupt, and get a reputation for being rude.

Maeda - …Okay… you’re not starting off on even footing;

Maeda - Your situation is different to that of the others, who woke up together,

Maeda - And then had to crowd around you and try to see if you were okay…

Maeda - But it’s fine! It’s allll fine.

Maeda - It’d be worse to isolate myself from everyone, at least…

{She’s dressed like a total athletic type- her hair is tied back in a ponytail which has been pulled through the back of a baseball cap, and her shoes are definitely for running}

{She seems very closed off- her arms are crossed, hands gripping her biceps, but… it’s hard to tell if it’s from nerves, or a closed-off, loner personality.}

[She’s mostly dressed in athletic wear, wearing exercise shorts and running shoes, but she’s got an assortment of clutter on her person; she’s wearing bracelets, necklaces, anklets, and other such jewelry, and the pockets of her jacket seem to be overflowing with trinkets.]

{He’s wearing dress slacks, but they don’t match up with anything else he’s wearing- that being a pair of sneakers, a beanie, and a sweatshirt which is riddled with holes, specifically around the cuffs and collars}

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny ― Chapter 2: The Gallery

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny ⥽

Nadya Al Jamil (MC) has been struggling from the day she moved to Manhattan, but her new job as assistant to the mysterious CEO of Raines Corp was supposed to turn her luck around. Until she finds herself caught in the middle of a war involving the Council of Vampires who secretly run the city. An evil from the birth of Vampire-kind stirs beneath, feeding on the conflict, and finds Nadya bound to a destiny she never asked for.

Bound by Destiny and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Nadya’s first formal event goes about as well as to be expected. At least there are pretty girls to look at.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“You know, these are the kinds of events that incite supervillains and large gangs of jewelry thieves.”

“Are you a supervillain?”

“I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

“Do I not pay enough?”

“Being a supervillain has crappy benefits. Raines Corp. dental, though? Top notch.”

Nadya doesn’t want to imagine what she’d be doing if Adrian weren’t here. Or — even worse — if he wasn’t able to match her joke-for-joke. He could very well have been the type of boss who was enjoyable in private but had to shove the proverbial stick up his butt when it came to public events like these.

But nope. Adrian Raines, one of the top bachelors in New York City, is skirting the wall near the chocolate fountain right along with her.

Sure, he did his rounds when they first entered the ballroom of the Gallery. “If you want I can introduce you,” he had whispered before the first wave of Estee Lauder and old money came their way, “but these types… they don’t really expect the assistants to talk.” He’d been ashamed — maybe not for himself but for society.

But that was fine by her. “I don’t like being introduced anyway.”

So for each newly greased palm or sharp-cut suit that came their way she took a step back, zoned out for the brief-but-polite conversation, and made sure to give the alarmingly attentive college kid who always seemed to have one extra refill glass of champagne just for her a tip that would make the oldest crone here wither and fall into an early grave.

Every once in a while Adrian would point out a prominent figure here or an only-famous-in-Europe artist there. It was hard not to feel overwhelmed at the number of famous faces in the same room as her.

“That’s Adam Vega. You’ve heard of him, right?” Adrian points to a set of too-white pearly whites attached to the Senator across the floor.

“Presidential hopeful next election, yeah,” she shrugs, “he’s not given a clear stand on his support of the queer community yet, though, so Lily and I are leaning towards Representative Hartley from California.”

His eyebrows raise; visibly impressed. “I agree. Politicians hate giving direct answers. Vega especially.”

There’s a hint of a personal vendetta there that Nadya notices but doesn’t bring attention to. It wouldn’t surprise her if Vega’s campaign had asked for donations from the company — or if, after tonight, she would see that very email at work Monday evening.

Off to the left corner — where she remembers seeing some marble sculpture, something to do with Venus maybe — it looks as though every photographer allowed into the event flocks around an obscured figure.

“Mademoiselle! Over here!”

“Wonderful, absolutely stunning!”

“Look this way next, Miss Lacroix! Over here!”

Standing on her tip-toes does nothing to help reveal the hidden subject, but that doesn’t stop her from trying.

“Don’t bother,” mumbles Adrian under his breath. “feeding her vanity is the last thing anyone should be doing.”

“Feeding whose vanity?”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Have you tried one of these pineapple slices in chocolate?”

Before Nadya has a chance to respond a voice comes purring behind her.

“You could at least try and be unpredictable, Adrian. This is the third event you’ve spent sulking by the sweets.”

Though Adrian brightens considerably at the woman who lurks behind Nadya, her reaction couldn’t be more opposite. Chills down her spine and the air in her lungs catching in her throat — desperate not to be let out in the same space as that familiar tone. She’d heard the woman named Kamilah only twice since the meeting-that-shall-not-be-named and both were phone calls. No name, no caller ID, just Nadya’s usual greeting of “Raines Corp., desk of Mr. Raines speaking, may I help you?” and the curt reply: “he’s expecting my call.” It was as though Adrian had been waiting with his ear to the door — the line transferred before she even had a chance to ask the woman to hold.

And now in person the voice was as unmistakable as it was beautiful; a soft yet commanding tone with a slight accent that curled on the tip of her tongue. If she hadn’t first been introduced to Kamilah by snooping on a meeting that may implicate her boss in murder, she’d be smitten. But falling for killers was morally wrong.

Though that was a moral stance that goes right out the window the moment she turns to meet Kamilah face-to-face. If Amazons existed, they were modeled after her. The statue of Venus across the ballroom would probably start weeping if it laid eyes on her. Nadya’s entire female celebrity hotness scale, which went from sweet Lady Hana Lee to sexy AME star Bianca Sandoval, was thrown horrendously off-kilter.

Is she gaping? Oh crap, she’s gaping. But there had to be laws against dresses that form-fitting on such attractive people. And if there weren’t then she needed to have a talk with Senator Vega at some point that evening.

Then Adrian’s arm is around her shoulder and he’s squeezing her gently against his side. Her name might have been thrown somewhere in there.

“And this, Nadya, is Kamilah Sayeed, CEO of Ahmanet Financial and a very close personal friend of mine.”

Kamilah’s nose scrunches up ever-so-slightly and she rolls her eyes.

“Adrian you make it sound so… tawdry,” she scolds, “when honestly the very thought of you very close and personal with me threatens to ruin my evening meal.”

There’s a private laugh between the pair — something Nadya is witness but not privy to — but it’s enough to wake her from the stupor of sudden racing thoughts concerning her sexuality.

“Uh—n-nice to meet you. I’m Nadya, Nadya Al Jamil.” She offers Kamilah her hand. Kamilah ignores it.

“Yes, though I suppose we’ve met before.” The comment sends her blood running cold; leaves Nadya gaping like a fish for excuses, apologies, anything that would keep them from silencing her for what she knows.

Adrian looks between them — chuckles through his confusion. “What? When?”

When all her floundering is for naught, Kamilah takes the reins.

“On the phone. If you’d call that a proper meeting, that is.”

Her exhale is a little too long, a little too relieved. Adrian’s used to the quirks that she’s made of; stacked like a game of Tetris abandoned near the end. But Kamilah — she notices. Combining the lights overhead and her makeup; Nadya could swear her pupils narrowed into slits.

“Something the matter?” She doesn’t even pretend flippancy and that Adrian notices. The way he looks between them makes her erupt in goosebumps.

Nadya shakes her head hastily. “Just not used to these sorts of things, right? Am I right?” But before she can drink for something to do Adrian’s hand snakes the champagne flute from her grasp. It lands delicately on a passing serving tray and is whisked off into used-stemware oblivion.

“Maybe that’s enough for you, tonight.” He’s teasing but the concern is genuine. Nadya watches a look pass between the mutual moneymakers — hopes to dear god whatever isn’t being said isn’t about her.

When a greying gentleman takes the podium up front the entire floor goes into a hushed silence. His first words, “I’m sure I don’t need to introduce myself,” are followed by snooty, nose-up polite laughter and that’s all anyone feels obligated to say while he drones on about donations to the Gallery, funding, and various sponsored artists featured tonight. The silence in the room is so thin a dropped pin might send the roof crumbling down on them — so there go Nadya’s hopes of asking Adrian what the man was talking about. One chocolate strawberry turns into two, and by the time the room breaks into restrained applause and the man takes his leave, her fingers meet an empty tray.

Doors open off to the side to the Gallery’s displayed collection. Large canvases filled with blurry vibrancy that, even from her distance, Nadya can tell is skill unparalleled.

She’s already several paces towards the beckoning beauty when she notices she’s alone. Turns with a frown — until she spots Adrian speaking to Kamilah in hushed tones.

“Adrian, you coming?” calls Nadya — when she catches the slightly desperate crack in her voice she wishes she hadn’t.

His infallible smile reaches her even at their distance. “You go on ahead. I’ve just got a bit of business to discuss first.”

That’s when she notices the portly man in a too-tight tuxedo behind the glamorous pair. He’s average, curly hair and beard shaved just a little too short on the right side. But he moves in a strange, graceful way — like Adrian and Kamilah. They congregate and then like statues remain still, close; secretive. Despite the movement towards the exhibition around them.

It brings a chill down her spine. “Are you sure?”

Something in Kamilah’s brow furrows; her annoyance clear. Adrian remains nonplussed.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he nods, gestures for her to follow the crowd, “I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”

At risk of her own neck Nadya leaves them, despite every bone in her body screaming at her not to turn her back.

At first Nadya was surprised at all of the faces shown at the event. It gave her a little hope that art was still appreciated in the world. Hope that she found dashed when she realized the truth: that the majority of people looking at the blown-up photographs in all their high-definition only cared about the people looking at them.

The majority of attendants skirt around the edges of the works; file strangely in the middle of the gallery’s hall like some opposite-day weirdness. Every once in a while someone will step forward, alcohol in hand, and air a compliment or observation that their party agrees with in nods and murmurs and subtle toasts. Gallery workers, all identified by their matching ties and lapel pins of the Gallery’s logo, stand here and there with clipboards at the ready and wearing rolls of stickers like fashion statements.

One woman stands passive beside a beautiful canvas of a sprawling rocky valley. The grey of the sky is dark but the grass underneath it shines bright like the sun was just out of view. Nadya approaches — notes her high-and-tight blonde bun and is briefly reminded of how grateful she is Adrian didn’t invite Nicole along — and offers her a friendly nod.

“Hello.”

The woman arches a brow but says nothing.

Twenty-eight agonizing seconds of awkward silence pass. She tries again.

“This is a really pretty piece.”

The woman’s jaw sets at pretty, features then easily schooled into a complacent smile. She’s seen people look at garbage with kinder eyes. “Indeed, miss.”

“Where was this taken?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, miss.” The worker’s responses grow terse; clipped. A flush of shame floods over her cheeks.

“Oh. Of course. I—”

There’s a familiar click-clack of stilettos that stop just behind her. Nadya sucks in a breath but before she can continue a crisp voice interrupts.

“Wow, you’re serious right now?”

Nadya whirls around but the woman and her shock of vibrant violet hair are trained on the Gallery worker.

Who seems to have found the only person in the room she likes less than Nadya herself. “Pardon me, miss. I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Violet-Hair raises her glass of wine — near empty — and points a nail at the piece.

“Pretty sure I was speaking English, was I speaking English sweetheart?” She looks to Nadya; who nods dumbly. “Right. Yup. English.”

The worker’s patience is wearing thin. “Indeed you were, miss. What I did not understand was your… exclamation.”

Violet-Hair laughs; loudly, unabashedly, not caring that she’s drawing the attention of at least a dozen people standing nearby. In fact she seems to relish in the attention. “Oh! Right! Silly me. I guess I was just, I dunno, like, super surprised to hear that you work here and you don’t know where this shot was taken.”

She’s spoken just loud enough that anyone else having a conversation either has to wait until she’s done or abandons it altogether for something more interesting. Two women loudly arguing with a Gallery employee must never happen at one of these things, Nadya guesses, that or they figured it would happen later on in the evening. But it’s safe to say they’re the current stars of the proverbial show.

“I mean isn’t that what you’re trained to know? Jeez, at least stand next to a big old hunk of art you’re familiar with.” With the crowd at her advantage the woman jerks her thumb at the employee, now flush with offense, as if to say ‘get a load of this.’

The half-moon around them murmurs around one another and it’s the final straw. “Of course I know — these are some of the most detailed photographs of the Scottish Highlands ever taken. I’m offended at your insinuation, miss.”

If she had a dictionary on hand Nadya was suddenly sure that the face of the violet-haired troublemaker would be the picture definition of ‘cat that got the cream.’ Her eyes narrow, painted lips turned down into a sultry frown, and there’s a poisonous edge to the sweetness in her voice.

“Wow. You don’t say?”

“Despite this being one of the most acclaimed shots taken by the photographer, to think I would not know the piece I’m auctioning off is — well — it’s affronting to say the least.”

She sips the last of her wine; forces a pregnant pause on those looking on. Then her hand falls on Nadya’s shoulder with nothing short of intimacy.

“Then why’d you tell my friend here you didn’t know?”

If she had the courage or the voice, Nadya would try to smooth the situation over as best she could. Instead she just stands there, a statue, and wishes she hadn’t eaten two dozen chocolate strawberries.

“P-Pardon?” asks the worker; eyes flicking between the pair.

“If you knew, why didn’t you just tell my friend where it was?”

“Well, I—”

“Why’d you have to be such a stubborn bitch that I had to get involved?”

“Your language is—”

“I may curse like a sailor but at least I’m not a cunt.”

“Miss!” she gasps at the curse, thrown for a loop. Unsure of what to say next. She looks ready to call for security, but the violet-haired vixen made sure to tear down her confidence first. She’s left hanging and Nadya is absolutely awestruck.

“But you know, I think I’m gonna be generous today. I should be generous today, right,” she glances briefly at Nadya who nods like it’s somehow her decision, like she’s culpable in the absolute slaughter of the worker’s self-esteem, “yeah, I’ll be generous I think. I won’t tell your boss you were being horrible to a potential buyer just because she looks like she bought her dress on a clearance rack.”

Nadya could object. She doesn’t. It’s not entirely false but still hurts to hear it.

Then she steps forward and coaxes down the gallery worker with one perfect finger. Wordlessly bats away the woman’s hesitance and whispers something in her ear that lasts long enough for the attending crowd to mill back into their own circles of conversation and for Nadya to watch the blonde woman go absolutely pale — almost sickly green with what she can only assume is fear.

She passes something like a business card between them and Nadya watches while the worker scribbles something down on her clipboard and places a bright orange dot underneath the plaque bearing the photograph’s title. Orange, she recalls, means a purchase. No bid worth it, apparently.

A tender hand on her arm brings Nadya out of her thoughts, looking up into the eyes of her apparent rescuer and her tender-yet-sultry smile.

“Come on, let’s get out of the snake pit.”

She didn’t know she needed the fresh air until it hits her in a chilly wind. She follows the woman onto some outside terrace overlooking the Gallery’s gardens; a strange and fragrant floral oasis in the middle of a bustling metropolis.

“Katherine, by the way, since you forgot to ask.”

Katherine’s hand is offered in a polite way — soft skin hiding a surprisingly firm grip when Nadya takes it.

“Nadya.”

Her new friend wanders to the balcony’s edge and leans over. There’s no invitation but somehow she feels expected and plants herself beside.

“I just hate people like that, you know? People who think they’re better than everyone else because maybe they had more opportunities, or got lucky and were born with money, or whatever. Man, let a girl look at a fucking picture and think it’s cool!”

Nadya silently agrees to Katherine’s whole rant. “I’ve always wanted to go to Scotland. Nearly went on a year abroad in England during college but, uh, something came up, exams, maybe… and I had to cancel the trip.” And she hadn’t thought about it since. Not until she caught sight of those craggy sloping hills that looked so much like the photos in the brochure she kept on her pin board for all four years of her degree.

Katherine leans back on her elbows; her smile almost pitying. “There’s nothing special over there, hon. Trust me.”

“You’ve been?”

“Too many times.”

“I’m still jealous.”

There’s no one around to refill their drinks — either they aren’t supposed to be out here or the free booze is limited to the indoors. Katherine’s definitely sad about her empty wine glass but the scent of the garden down below is enough of a high for her.

“So…” she fumbles to try and fill the silence, “you come here often?”

Katherine’s laugh is demure and restrained. She can’t help but think the woman is containing herself from something. Brick by brick an invisible wall is being formed to keep them at a distance. It makes no sense but Nadya isn’t one to judge. Well — out loud, anyway.

“No, not really. Didn’t know if you could tell but I hate these rich people types.”

“So why are you here?”

“Meeting clients.”

“Oh? Are you an artist?”

She pauses like it’s the most important question in the world. Finally shakes her head and releases Nadya’s bated breath.

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Why do you —”

The door opens behind them and a sudden breath of relief catches their attentions.

“There you are, Nadya, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Adrian emerges into the night and though his face is the picture of casual calm she could have sworn there was the briefest flash of panic in his eyes — now hidden far and pushed down deep.

“Here I am.” She teases, offers him a casual shrug. Hoping, praying to any listening god that there isn’t a weird flush in her cheeks at the way he talks. “Just needed some air.”

“Of course.”

He brushes a stray bit of hair from her shoulder — a passive, familiar touch that means her shiver has nothing to do with the outside breeze — and in his smile everything seems alright again. He’s just one of those people blessed with a disarming charm.

“A-hem.”

Katherine’s fake cough doesn’t fool anyone. Draws Adrian’s attention away from her and to their guest. It’s an irritation Nadya’s only seen on his face a few times in the months they’ve known each other but it doesn’t settle well regardless.

“Can I help you?”

Katherine looks at Adrian the way all women look at Adrian: like he’s a prize. Her eyes comb through the polished shield of him and linger on his face with predatory accuracy.

“Well you’re kind of interrupting girl time, so —”

“Katherine,” scolds Nadya in a single word, “this is my boss.”

“Hm. I see. Well hello, boss.”

The tension doesn’t dissipate. Fight-or-flight mode kicks in and leaves Nadya looking between them frantically. “Erm… Adrian, this is Katherine. We met on the floor. Katherine, this is my boss: Adrian Raines.”

If she had seen him only as a hot man in a suit before, now she knew his name — and it shows. Something changes in Katherine’s stance — all ease gone. But rather than focusing her energies on Adrian, her eyes flick to Nadya — suddenly hot under the collar.

“W-What? Something on my face?”

“No, sweets, you’re perfect. Just… small world, it turns out.”

Nadya frowns. “What do you mean?”

When Katherine and Adrian shake hands they meet eye-to-eye. She catches sight of their white knuckles and wonders why they’re trying to have a competition over a handshake.

“Well I’m obviously not here because I like the crowds, kitten,” Katherine speaks to Nadya but her eyes remain trained on Adrian, “since the real reason I’m even here is to meet with, well, you Mr. Raines.”

She doesn’t give Adrian the chance to ask, “I’m Ms. Sayeed’s private contractor.”

That invisible brick wall slots into place with a thundering silence. Locks Nadya on one side and Katherine on the other — Adrian caught with her. She can’t remember a time she felt so invisible, so utterly removed from a moment in time. It makes her sick to her stomach.

Adrian’s voice is low when he finally replies. “We’ve been waiting for you for over an hour.”

“I showed up, didn’t I?” quips Katherine.

“Not a very good way to impress your potential employers.”

“If it’s my punctuality you want, and not my skills, then you hired the wrong girl.”

“Perhaps we have.”

The silence is considerable before, within seconds of one another, Katherine and Adrian remember they aren’t alone. Adrian looks to her, flustered, but Katherine’s cool is never-ending.

“I’ll catch you some other time, Nadya. Mama’s got business to take care of.” Her passing wink, easy to miss, is Katherine’s only farewell.

Now the terrace seems stifling — the breeze blocked by all the things Adrian isn’t saying.

“I—well, you see…”

He stops when Nadya holds up a hand. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Adrian,” her sincerity is true; and thick enough to hide her hurt, “I’m just your secretary after all.”

If he says anything she doesn’t stick around long enough to hear. The heat of the bodies milling around the photographs makes her skin crawl but Nadya forces her way back into the event like nothing strange happened. Like strange isn’t her life’s new normal.

It would have been nice for her to turn and see Adrian following her through the displays — a silent apology was better than none at all. But a brief glance over her shoulder tells a different tale. Across the room she catches the sight of Katherine’s shock of violet hair and the pretty mauve of Kamilah’s dress.

Probably something you don’t want involved with anyway, she tells herself.

Nadya continues on.

The event starts winding down around one in the morning — she suspects half the guests have secondary parties already plugged into the navigators of their limos. She walks around the emptying gallery for half an hour; partially enjoying the fact that she no longer needs to look at the pieces from a distance but also on the hunt for Adrian, Kamilah, Katherine, anyone.

Two laborers are in the middle of dismounting the purchased photograph of the Highlands when she gets Adrian’s text.

[TEXT]: Had to move a business discussion to Ahmanet Financial. Car waiting outside to take you home whenever. Sorry for leaving you high and dry. I’ll make it up to you Monday. Promise.

Sincerely, Adrian.

At first his official-sounding texts — which he always signed ‘Sincerely, Adrian’ like he forgets assigned contacts are a thing — were funny, charming even. Now she just looks at his name in LED pixels on her work-issued phone and wants to throttle him. Not for abandoning her — okay, maybe for abandoning her — but also because it seems like a cathartic release of her pent up frustration.

But making her way to Ahmanet Financial, which was hella far across town, would cost her energy she simply didn’t have. Wouldn’t life be nice if she could buy energy packs like in Lily’s games…

Just like Adrian said there’s a car waiting right in front of the Gallery when she makes it to street-level. Like, right in front — she doesn’t even want to think about how long he had to wait or the fights he had to get into for such primo vehicular real-estate. She recognizes the driver — Benjamin, William, Robert, something old-fashioned like that — from late nights escorting Adrian to the car for his meetings outside the office. The familiar face relieves her in a way she wasn’t expecting.

Maybe-Benjamin smiles and opens the back door for her. “Have a good time this evening, Miss Al Jamil?”

She glances back at the looming figure of the Gallery; now ensconced in shadow and the faint lights of buildings on either block. It looks like a dead thing stuck in the middle of a party. Like taxidermy.

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

He closes the door behind her. The darkness is warm, inviting. Nadya throws propriety to the wind and lays down on the buttery black leather seats. She’s out before they pull away from the curb.

[bangtansdoc]

Into the light.

Part 1.

Ost: OMG!- Joy red velvet ( Ost of the great seducer).

Pairings:Park Jimin(BTS)×reader

Genre: Fluff, horror(maybe Idk), Vampire! Au, CEO! Au, secretive and very clingy-ish Jimin. Ack guys this is one's a long read. Hope you can follow through to the end.

Ost: Joy(red velvet)- OMG!(Ost of the great seducer).

Word count: Honestly I don't even count it anymore.

Synopsis: You need money. Park Jimin has money. You end up getting a job as a house keeper in his gargantuan mansion. But what secrets might the handsome CEO be hiding underneath his flashy image?

PS: This whole fic was inspired by Jimin's GDA 2019 looks. It was le'jin'dary.

He watched as blood pooled out from her body. There was so much blood. He wondered if it was normal for her to produce that much, considering who she was. He tried to reach out to her, to hold her hand, even though he knew she was already gone. His vision faded, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he joined her.

***

"Hey Y/N are you watching the news right now?!" Your best friend's voice screeched out of the phone before it reached your ear. "No I'm not Joon. What's the problem?!" "Go find a TV right now. Or..." "Joon! I'm on my way to work now. Can't it wait?" "It IS about work. And it can't wait. Y/N..." "Ok see you later Joonie!" "No don't you...." You quickly hung up the phone as you felt a migraine creeping along your head to the base of your skull. You leaned your head against the bus window and sighed. You were exhausted. It was bad enough that you were working two part time jobs(they were initially four but Joon had argued that if you didn't tone it down you would flunk all your classes and probably end up in a hospital which had ended in you clocking him over the head and eventually conceding cause....he was right) but you also had a big test that you really weren't prepared for. You brought your fingers to your temples and massaged them lightly. "Don't fret Y/N." You spoke softly to yourself. "You can do this. Only two more years left till you graduate. You got this." Your phone buzzed with a text message. It was Joon. "PICK UP THE PHONE NOW YOU STUPID BRAT." You sighed again and switched off your phone. "Not today Namjoon. Not today." You whispered again to yourself as the bus arrived at your stop and you disembarked.

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You jogged lightly towards the glue factory, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you prepared to tough it out through another day of work. So it was to your surprise when you met several employees loitering around the factory's compound, with several men moving boxes out of the factory and into a large truck. You quickly approached the elderly woman that was the head of staff. "Mrs Avery?" She looked at you and relief washed over her face like you were the answer to all her problems. "Oh Y/N! Thank goodness you're here!" "What happened?" "Don't you watch the news dearie? Some whistleblower reported the president of the factory for embezzlement. So they cut us all off, packed up and are 'moving to rural areas'. Pssht." Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. "What?! But-- but---" "There's nothing we can do dearie. We're all out of jobs now." She said again as she quickly made her way to another group of employees. Your mind raced and spun around. Packed up...cut us all off....out of jobs... Your tuition fees were due in a month. And you were perfectly, utterly and catastrophically broke. You fumbled for your phone in your trousers pocket and dialled your best friend's number. "Joon! I'm doomed! Doomed Joon! I'm- I'm gonna get kicked out of school. The factory---it-it shut Down. I don't have any money Joon! What am I gonna do?!" "Calm down Y/N! Your tuition isn't due for about a month. You have plenty of time to find a new job before then. "No no no! Don't you get it?! No job will have as high a pay as a factory in time, and no factory will hire a part timer now after this whistleblowing incident!" You could see practically see Joon scratching his forehead in thought. "Ok Y/N? Take a deep breath." He paused as you did so. "Now calm the hell down, and come on over so we can figure out what you're gonna do." You blinked back several tears as you hung up and bolted for the bus station.

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"Maybe you should ask your parents for some cash." You stared at Namjoon like he had just sprouted horns. "Kim Namjoon. How long have we been friends?" "Since kindergarten." "Exactly. So you of all people should know that that isn't an option." "But you're really desperate now. You can't do this alone." "So what's gonna happen to my FIVE siblings Hun? I've been taking care of myself by myself pretty well. Now is no different." Namjoon sighed exasperatedly like you were the dumbest person in the world. He was probably right. But what were you to do? Growing up in a family of eight was no joke. Your father was a teacher and your mother owned a bakery. But their earnings alone were not enough to cater for all your needs. So you had decided to unburden them by fending for yourself. You had started working as soon as you were old enough. Your parents were apprehensive at first but you were able to alleviate their fears of your working affecting your studies. You had worked your way through high school, moving from job to job and had been offered admission into a prestigious University. Your family was again afraid that the tuition was too much for you to handle alone, so you had borrowed money from Namjoon, which you were still currently trying to pay back. It had seemed that luck was on your side when you got a job at the glue factory. The working hours were reasonable and the pay was good. You figured that if you saved enough you would be able to make it through the four years of college. Until this happened. "I could lend you money again." You covered your face with your palms. "I still haven't finished paying you back for the last time you lent me money." "It doesn't matter." "It does matter! Our tuition is not chicken feed!" Namjoon shrugged. "It's not my fault my parents are rich." You groaned again before throwing a plushie at him. "Dogmatic jerk." You muttered under your breath. "Don't worry. I'll think of something." "Yeah well whatever you think of, better think of it fast."

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"Hey hey Y/N check out what's on the news right now." Namjoon said as he plopped down beside you in the school cafeteria. "Do you spend all your time watching the news?" You asked teasingly, making him open his mouth in thought which you giggled at. "Probably." He replied and you burst out in laughter. "Anyway guess what?" You decided to humour him. "What?" "You know the glue factory you used to work at? The one that got whistleblown?" You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Ok ok you do. Well park Jimin just bought it." "Park Jimin? The mega ultra super rich business tycoon?" " Yeah, the mega ultra super shady one. Something's not right about that guy. I know it." You rolled your eyes. "You've 'known' it for six months now." "Yeah I mean all people know about him is that he's super young and super secretive. We're talking about no friends, no family, not even a freaking pet....." "Namjoon..." "And he lives in this gigantic mansion with no one but his housekeeper." "Maybe he just likes his privacy." "Yeah no one ever just ' likes their privacy' . Especially super rich business moguls. He definitely has something to hide." Namjoon paused. "I'm thinking of making him the protagonist of a book I'm writing." You stood up with your tray of food. "Goodbye Joon. Call me when you have something better to discuss. Like where to find a job maybe?" "Hey I'm helping out as much as I can." You leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. "Well you should help out more than that." Your phone buzzed with an alarm. "And there goes my lunch break." You shoved your food into Namjoon's arms. "I have to go job hunting." "Hey let me come with." Namjoon said as he hurriedly stood up. "No you don't have to. I'm going to the job center to ask if they have any openings. And you have class." Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "And you don't?" "Well I won't even have a class to ditch anymore if I don't get a job now. See you." You said again as you quickly made your way out of the cafeteria.

***

You stared at your phone and sighed. It had already been a week since you had been to the women's job center. They had been skeptical, especially after you had stated all your conditions, working part-time during the week, Sundays free and also the fact that you were a student. However they had promised to get what they could for you, especially after you had begged them that you would work anywhere as long as the pay was good. But now here you were, staring intensely at your phone. What if you weren't able to find a job in time? You were sure that asking your parents for that much money would definitely affect at Least one of your siblings. You rubbed your temples and felt that awful migraine creeping along your skull again. You were not a happy-go-lucky endearing kind of girl who was always smiling even while suffering, but you always kept a healthy level of optimism in your tank, never letting your troubles or problems get the better of you. Namjoon had also played a great part in that. You fell back on your bed. But lately it had been getting harder to see the good side of things. You groaned in frustration, wondering if the job center was really finding it hard to get you something to do. Your phone suddenly buzzed to life, and you sprang off the bed like a rabbit, stumbling to the dresser and grabbing your phone like your life depended on it. You glanced at the caller ID and curled your toes in anticipation. "Hello is this Y/N/L/N?" A soft voice boomed out of the phone. "Yes. Yes it is." You said quickly, your heart in your throat. "Ok. I'm from the women's center. I'm happy to inform you that we've found a job for you." You heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God. I thought you weren't gonna be able to." The voice let out a soft chuckle. "Well it was difficult. But we managed to get something for you last minute. You are really lucky. The job offer sprang up out of nowhere. And it meets all of your conditions." You couldn't believe your luck. You wanted to leap into the air in Joy. "Thank you so much. When can I start?" "Uh, you still have to come down here as Soon as you can to get more details. Your employer is very particular about the people he hires. He is a private man and wants to interview you first." You mused on this. "Whatever he wants. As long as I get the job." "Ok then. Come down to the agency tomorrow so I can give you the details." The voice said and hung up. You fell back on your bed again smiling like an idiot. "YES!!!" You shrieked as you wriggled about. You heard a small voice at the back of your head. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch Y/N." You pushed away the thought. Things were finally looking up.

❇️❇️❇️

You sat down in front of a desk with a computer on it. You had arrived at the job center and had been waiting for about twenty minutes. You checked your phone for the time. You were beginning to get agitated. Where was the attendant? A middle aged woman suddenly plopped down in front of you. She greeted you with a warm smile. "Miss Y/N?" She asked and you responded with a nod. "Sorry for taking your time." "You spoke to me on the phone?" "No my coworker did. But she's out sick today so she told me to take care of you." "Oh." You responded and waited for the woman to continue. She switched on the computer and began to tap at the keyboard. "Ok so you've been offered a job as a housekeeper." "Uh can I know who I'm working for?" The woman smiled. "They wanted you to find out when you came for the interview." You were confused and began to wonder if this was some elaborate prank by Namjoon. Really. How private could one person be that they were keeping their identity a secret from their prospective employees? Were they some kind of mafia clan? You started to think of declining the offer when the woman, as if sensing your doubt, spoke up. "It's not dangerous Y/N. And I promise you the pay is very good. The CEO is just a very private man." CEO she said. There was something off about this woman too. You eyed her carefully. Ok Y/N. Let's see how this goes. "Alright." You said finally. "Great." She tore out a slip of paper and scribbled something on it. "Here's the address. Your interview is in two hours." "Two hours?! Well why didn't you...." "I didn't think you'd accept the offer." She didn't think you'd accept it? Exactly what was going on? You hurried to get your things. "Good luck!" The woman yelled after you as you dashed out the door.

You stopped short in front of an enormous gate. The gate had two iron carvings of a Jade dragon embedded into it. You heaved a sigh and pressed the doorbell. You waited for a while and was about to press it again when a deep male voice boomed over the PA system. "Yes?" Yes? Oi. "Uh, I'm from the women's center. I applied for the post of housekeeper." "Oh. You're early!" Yeah barely. You thought as the voice said again and after a while the gates slid open. You stepped into the compound and gasped so hard you almost passed out. Before you was the largest compound you had ever seen. There was a huge maze like garden on both sides of the compound, and sandwiched in between them was a beautifully lit walkway. There were lights and lanterns decorating each side of the walkway and you could only imagine how it would look at night. You walked slowly and gasped again when you saw the house. At the far end of the compound stood the biggest palace you had ever seen. In front of it was a pavilion, and in the pavilion was a water fountain with water sprouting out of it. The house was enormous and you felt as if you were standing before the tower of Babel* instead of a freaking house. The mahogany doors swung open and a well dressed Man with blonde hair walked out and towards you. He was just as beautiful as the house. You began to wonder if you had accidentally walked into another dimension.

"Y/N? Welcome." The man said cheerily, smiling at you constantly. "Come on." He spoke again and you shivered. You followed him into the house and your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. You were standing in a very grand Hall, fit for a king. Now you weren't an artsy girl, but you could make out several pieces of art work placed in the hallway by the walls, all leading up to a glass stand, above which hung the portrait of a young girl in a hanbok. You stared at the portrait, entranced by the girl's beauty and how sad her face looked, before wondering what sort of creep you were about to work for. "Beautiful isn't it?" You heard the male's voice beside you. He was also staring at the painting. "Yes. Yes it is." "It's the most exquisite piece of art in the mansion. Apparently the CEO described the girl to the artist himself." You turned to face the man. So he wasn't your employer? You had thought that this CEO being so private would've interviewed you himself. Guess even the most private still order lackeys around. At this point you still didn't know who exactly you were working for. Just what kind of mess were you getting yourself into? "This way." The handsome male led you towards a beautiful set of spiral stairs. You ascended quietly as the man led you again into a parlour room. He sat down on a cushion and you sat opposite him.

"So Y/N. Hi. I'm Kim taehyung. I'm CEO Park's PA." An alarm went off in your head. CEO Park. CEO Park. CEO Park!!! "I'm sorry do you mean CEO Park jimin?" Taehyung studied you. "Yes." Oh God!! CEO Park jimin, the super secret mega business mogul that Namjoon disliked. Why hadn't you seen the signs? It was when taehyung had asked if you were alright that you realized you were gasping for breath. "I'm fine. I'm fine." Taehyung studied you again. God was he handsome. You hoped the CEO looked nothing like him or else it would be very hard for you to concentrate on work. "Okay." Taehyung leaned back on his chair and crossed his legs. "Let's discuss the conditions of your employment." "But I haven't accepted the offer yet." Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "Well you're here aren't you?" You shifted in your seat. "So you'll be working Mondays through Saturdays, like you requested. Your job requires regular maintenance of the essential parts of the house. A Gardner and a mailman come occasionally. You'll also be residing here..." "What?" "Yes. In order to be fully efficient you can't afford to commute every day. Trust me it'll be much easier if you lived here." You sighed and wondered again if you were making a mistake in accepting this job. "You'll be receiving six thousand dollars at the end of every month..." Your eyes widened and your voice caught in your throat. "I'm sorry. Six thousand dollars?!" Taehyung smirked at your reaction. "At the end of every month." He paused. "Do you have anything to add?" You cleared your throat. "The-the pay for this month, can I receive it now? Like up front? I really need the money. I promise I will work for the full month I owe." Taehyung narrowed his eyes before placing a piece of paper before you. "That's a contract. Sign it." You carefully picked up the contract and signed it, sealing your fate. Taehyung smiled. "There. With that you can't run away. We will catch you if you dupe us." You gulped. "I'll speak to the CEO. The money will be forwarded to your account before the end of the day." You smiled brightly as tears brimmed in your eyes. All your money problems had just been solved in under an hour. "Thank you so much." You gushed, extremely grateful. Taehyung smiled a boxy smile at you, almost as if he was as excited as you were. "Anything else?" He asked. You sighed. "When can I start?"

❇️❇️❇️

"YOU WHAT?!" Namjoon yelled at you after you briefed him on your new job. "Y/N..." "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before I decided this Namjoon, but I really need this. You know that." "Yes, but..." Namjoon ran a hand through his brown hair. "Forget all jokes now. I've read a lot about CEO Park to know that he's hiding something. Something that could be potentially dangerous. Working for him.... Living in his house, puts you at risk. He could be some kind of secret mafia boss for Christ's sake!" You stared at Namjoon's concerned eyes and pulled him closer to you. You knew he was just worried about you , but you honestly thought he was just being paranoid. All in all, you couldn't blame him. You cared about him just as much to be paranoid if the roles were reversed. You planted a chaste kiss on his soft lips. "I'll be fine Joon. Really. I promise the second something seems off I'll quit immediately." You smiled at him and his expression softened. "Fine. But that doesn't mean I'm okay with it." "I know." "When do you start?" He grumbled, a sound you associated with a large, pouty bear. "Uh, tomorrow. Wanna help me pack?" He stared at you, incredulous. "Tomorrow? But shouldn't they at least have given you some more time to pack?" "I chose to start tomorrow. Better to get it over with as soon as possible right?" Namjoon shrugged as he picked up a pink bra, scrunched his face and tossed it aside. "Can't argue with that." He said as you grabbed the bra and stuffed it into your suitcase. "Trust me Joon. It'll be over before you know it. Oh and by the way, you should see his house. You'll love it."

❇️❇️❇️

You stood up from your crouched position and stretched your back. You had already successfully moved into the CEO's mansion and had been working for a week now. You saw taehyung regularly, he always popped in with a smile and the excuse of ' fetching some documents' when you knew he was probably checking up on you, obviously at the CEO's orders. Said CEO had not shown his face in the house since you arrived. You hadn't even seen his car in the driveway, not that you would notice anyway, with the fleet of cars parked in it. It was always the same routine everyday, and it was exhausting, but the amount at the end of your Bank book made it totally worth it. It was actually a bit easier because you were on break and you braced yourself for the stress you would face once school resumed. You took one last look at your Bank book for encouragement before exiting your room to begin the days duties. You made your way downstairs to the storage room and passed by the front door. You stopped abruptly as you saw a pair of male shoes placed beside yours. Must be taehyung's. But he had left the previous night. And why didn't he let you know he was back in the house? When did he even get in? You rolled your eyes and shrugged off the thoughts. He probably had something else to take care of and it wasn't like he had to tell you each time he came in. You grabbed your equipment and made your way to the pool.

You pulled back the sliding glass doors and stared at the exquisite marble pool before you. You gently placed the cleaning equipment on the floor and was about to drain the water when you noticed a movement in the pool. "Taehyung?" You called out, as you cautiously approached the pool edge. There was no answer. You moved closer and slipped on the marble, tumbling into the pool. Now you hadn't meant to be so overdramatic, but your fall had caught you off guard. You thrashed and flailed in the water, your movements causing you to sink further in. Suddenly, strong arms gripped your sides and hoisted you out of the water. You felt the arms holding on to your sides and a pair of legs wrapped around yours to stop them from thrashing about in the water.

You sputtered and coughed, before opening your eyes and both your heart and time stopped. In front of you, with his arms around you was the most beautiful human being on the planet. His eyes were a deep blue and they stared at you intensely, his lips were plump and pink, and his blonde, wet hair matted across his face. The sunlight reflecting on the water hit his face and he shone. He sparkled like an angel and you became as dumb as a mule. He must have sensed that you were in shock as he put his arms around your waist and guided you out of the water and into the folding chair. He stared at you again, before grabbing a towel and he began to walk away. Your brain came out of autopilot right then and you scrambled to your feet. "Wait!" You yelled, and the man stopped, turning back to you, his eyes burning with curiosity. "Thank you for-for saving me. My name's Y/N. Who- who are you?" You sputtered out. "Y/N right?" His voice came out, soft and pleasant. "You must be the new house keeper. I'm your boss, Park Jimin."

❇️❇️❇️❇️

Part two will be out soon! Hopefully!.

Comments would be appreciated!!!

[winchesterprincessbride]

Worlds Collide-Part 7

Part 1            Masterlist

When you made it back to the tower, you found Dean eating with Cap, Tony and Nat.  Cas was hovering nearby.  As soon as Dean saw your face, his smile faded.  “What?” he demanded.

“We caught a case,”  you told him.

“A case of what?” Tony asked.

You rolled your eyes at him. “A CASE.  Our kind of case.  Monsters.  In this case, Vampires.”

Cap looked surprised.  “You found vampires in New York?”

“No, we found 3 dead bodies in 4 weeks, all with their necks torn out and drained of blood.”

“The man said the Vic smelled like the sewers to him, Dean,” you commented.

Dean finished chewing his food, and then pushed his plate away.  “So are we working this or what?”

“But we don’t have our fake IDs or any dead man’s blood.  And my best machete is in the trunk of the Impala,” you grumbled.

“Wait a minute, slow down. Dead man’s blood? What’s that for?” Tony asked.

“It’s like poison to vamps. It incapacitates them,” Sam explained.

“And the machete?” Steve questioned.

“The only way to kill vamps is to cut off their heads,” Dean stated matter-of-factly.

“Jarvis, I need everyone in here, pronto,” Tony said suddenly.

“Right away, Mr. Stark,” the AI replied.

“So what’s the big emergency?” Bruce asked when he arrived.

“Vampires,”  Cap said shortly.

“What about them?” Clint asked, giving Cap a strange look.

“Apparently we have some,” Tony said quietly, looking at everyone in turn.  

“Here, in the tower?” Bruce asked, looking like he couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation.

Tony rolled his eyes. “No, in New York.  How many degrees do you have again?”

Nat sat down at the table, looking over at Sam.  “So we just need to chop their heads off, right? No big deal.  Sounds like fun.  Let’s go.”

“Look, guys, I don’t think you understand. Vampires are super strong, and super fast, with enhanced sight and hearing.  If the Avengers show up, with Iron Man blasting stuff, and Hulk smashing everything, they will see us coming a mile away, and we’ll never find them.” Dean informed the group.

“So what do you suggest?” Tony asked. “Now that we know this stuff is real, we need to be prepared. You guys aren’t always going to be around to help.”

“I think one of you should come with us. We’ll show you the ropes.  and you can teach the others.” you suggested.

“It should be me, obviously,” Tony stated as if it was a given.

“Why you? You’ll scare them all away with that loud suit of yours.” Nat said wryly, smothering a laugh.

“I have seen them before, both here and on Asgard,” Thor commented.  “I should go.”

Everyone began to talk at once, arguing why they should be the one to go.  The voices grew louder and louder until finally, Sam had heard enough. “Everyone shut up! Cap is going with us so you can stop arguing!”

“Why Him?” Tony couldn’t quite manage to hide his disappointment.

“Because we are fighting our own kind of war,  and we need all the soldiers we can get,” Dean said grimly, nodding at his brother.

“We are going to need your help anyway, Stark. We don’t have any of our gear here, so it makes it hard for us to do our jobs.” You said in an effort to salvage Tony’s ego.

“What can I do?” He asked, already excited about the new adventure.

“Well. usually, we pose as FBI agents to get into the investigation and see what they have.  We don’t have our fake IDs here, and we can’t walk in with Captain America, so that won’t work.”  Dean said thoughtfully.

“So what’s plan B?” Nat asked.

“Tony, think you can pull some strings and get us in to see the body?”

While Tony went to call in some favors, Sam and Dean went with Clint and Nat to the armory to get some suitable weapons.  I sat down with Cap to talk tactics.

“Okay Cap, a lot of what we do is sneaking around under the radar.  Your uniform and your shield make you very recognizable.  I’m afraid this time you’ll have to go incognito. Are you up for the challenge? Think you can go old-school?” I asked him with a mischevious wink.

“Y/N, I was born in 1918. Old-school is all I know.” Steve responded with a sheepish grin.

Sam and Dean returned with guns for all of us, and some machetes, the likes of which I had never seen. Dean was like a kid with a new toy.  “Check these out, Y/N! They are made of vibranium. They are much lighter than ours, and ten times more lethal.”

I held out my hand, and Dean handed me one of the new machetes. It was remarkably well-balanced, and as I gave it an experimental wave, I marveled at how easy it cut through the air.  “These vamps aren’t going to know what hit them,” I said happily.

Dean handed one to Steve, smirking a bit as he did so.  “Think you can get by without your shield? It’s way too recognizable.”

“I’ll manage,” Steve said shortly, staring at the machete in his hand unhappily.

“You need some new clothes, Cap. You have to blend in with us. Do you have any flannel?” Sam asked hopefully.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Steve told him.  Sam and Dean grinned at each other.

“This should be interesting.” Clint said to Nat.  “Let us know if you need us for anything.” He told us before he, Bruce and Nat left the room.  Thor still remained, looking thoroughly annoyed at the whole situation.

My brother pulled me aside.  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” He asked worriedly.

“I’ll be fine.  This is what we do.  You don’t need to worry.” I reassured him, patting his shoulder.

Tony came back into the room a few moments later.  “Okay, it’s done.  The police commissioner owed me a favor.  I got you in to see the body.  You are consultants for Stark Industries.  Pepper will have everything you need.”

A short while later, the four of us were dressed in business clothes, complete with Stark Industries IDs with fake names.  Steve was disguised with glasses and a fake mustache that made him unrecognizable.  It was incredible how fast Pepper worked.

As the car drove us to the morgue, we went through the routine with Steve.  “Let us do the talking,” Dean told him.

“We are pretty accomplished liars,”  I confirmed.  “Just observe, follow our lead, take notes, stuff like that.”

“You know I fought in World War 2, right? This won’t be my first time seeing a dead body.” Steve informed us.

“We know, but you’ve never seen a body fed on by a vampire,” Sam told him grimly.

The harsh lights of the morgue were blinding as the attendant directed us to the correct table.  “I’ll be in the other room.  Just holler if you need anything.” She told us, giving Dean a flirtatious grin.

The four of us walked up to the gurney, and Sam quickly glanced at the toe tag to make sure we had the right person. “Danielle Myers, age 15.  Yep, this is her.”

Dean pulled back the sheet covering the body, exposing her head and neck.  Her neck was torn to pieces at the jugular, covered with multiple bite marks.  Dean gestured Steve over.  “Take a look.  It’s definitely vampires, but they aren’t usually so messy when they feed.  This looks like a feeding frenzy.”

Steve leaned in to get a closer look.  “So what does that mean?”

“It means she was fed on by newly-turned vamps.  When they are first turned, they can’t control themselves.  All they want to do is feed, and they are crazy strong.” You told him.

“So we aren’t dealing with a single vampire, but multiple ones?” Steve reasoned.

“We are dealing with a nest.  Newly turned vamps are very unpredictable.  We have our work cut out for us.” Sam said quietly as he recovered the body with the sheet.  

“So what now?” Steve asked as we left the morgue.

“We go back to the neighborhood and talk to some people where the body was found and see if the victims have anything in common,”  Dean responded, holding the door for me.

We piled into the Impala as I handed everyone their fake FBI badges that Pepper had made up for us.  Steve frowned at his. I could tell the whole lying thing wasn’t really sitting well with him.

“So, Captain America, are you ready to play FBI Agent?” I asked with a grin.

(Part 8)

@kittennovak @midnightdream83 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @crystallstaircase @inumorph @justballoonfishthings @enthusiasmisdepressing @vatuuwinchester @consultinghunter45 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mmamacitax @monkeymom6467 @bang-for-your-bucky-blog @rejectedbytheempty @superlightalternateuniverse88 @encounterthepast @linki-locks11 @yourprettybaby03 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @klanceiscannon14 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @mah1c  @skybinx-blog @percywinchester27 @a-sea-of-fandoms @dorky-and-i-know-it@tokyoghoulyz @pinknerdpanda  @atc74 @jayankles  @notnaturalanahi @midnightjazzmine @moonlitskinwalker @we-are-band-sexuals @winchestergirl-love @gecko9596 @ronnie248-blog@essie1876 @bohowitch@just-another-busy-fangirl @jotink78 @captainradicalpassion @keelzy2 @disneymarina @kittenofdoomage @mrswhozeewhatsis @oriona75 @frankiea1998 @akshi8278@stylinson531@valynsia @dr-dean@theoutlinez  @imweirdandobsessed @growningupgeek    @luciisthebest  @laurenisnot @maddieburcham1  @canadianjelly @muliermalefici @brewsthespirit-blog @ilsawasanacrobat @nanie5 @weasleywinchester @samisimportant-blog @fatalcrossbow  @violetsamalamb @letmusicguideu @grantsgorgeousgirl @faegal04 @feelmyroarrrr @kay18115@milkymilky-cocopuff @mikimausiii @the-greatest-temptation @superpanicromancesummer @wh1sp3r1ng-impala @emoryhemsworth @squirrel-moose-winchester @jennifromtheblock1013 @spnbaby-67 @mogaruke @sweetmisseddreams2002 @redheadbedhead2002 @negan–is–god @spnwoman @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @maximumkillshot @sweetpeamoose @mrs-meghan-winchester @woodworthti666  @herbologystudent252 @sandlee44 @blackcherrywhiskey @andkatiethings  @wildefire @thoughtfullyfurryangel @apeshit7x @klanceiscannon14 @curly-haired-disaster @becca-ca @deliciouslydisturbed365

[theharlequinwriter]

He’s Just like you.

Summary :  you and sam have a bad fight causing you to leave not knowing your pregnant and its a couple years later

Word count : 2,720

triggers: swearing.

“Dean wheres sam”

I stood on my tip toes looking over deans shoulder looking for my tall boyfriend sam.

“He took of with that demon bitch”

I gritted my teeth.

“Ruby”             I hated her more than anything , I knew that she was lying to us about helping dean outta going to hell but of course we couldn’t took a damn angel to save him. I hated how much sam trusted her , I feel like he would chose her over me , so I avoided the question during fights. I sat back on the couch grabbing my food from the brown bag dean had.

“You okay y/n?”

“Im fine why?”

“You seem upset lately maybe a little bitchy”

I pushed deans arm , taking a bite of my burger. We sat watching movies until at least midnight when sam finally came back in the door. Dean and I both turned now looking at sam who stood there as if he had just gotten off work.

“Where were you sam?”

“With ruby babe”

He walked by grabbing his salad pecking me on the cheek. I heard more footsteps and in walks in the demon herself ruby.

“Why the hell are you here demon bitch”

“Watch you’re tone with me hunter skank”

I walked around the couch coming face to face with ruby.

“Lets go bitch”

I pushed her back , sam came grabbing my hand leading me to the kitchen.

“What the hell y/n”

“Really sam”

“What?”

“You brought her here knowing how I feel about her”

“Shes helping me”

“I can help you sam”

“Not like she can”

“Are you sleeping with the bitch or something”

“What no”

“Then what the hell sam , why am I getting the 3rd degree here”

“Shes helping me y/n more than you or dean ever could”

“Wow sam I stayed with you even after dean went to hell ,I stayed when I found out you’re a demon blood junkie , I stayed even when she came”                                                       “No one asked you too y/n”

His hands now clenching into fist.

“I didnt ask you to stay , you did that all on your own”

“What was I gonna do sam , let you go y2k on everyone and everything?”

“I dont know y/n but it would of been easier if you just left”

“Really why so you could fuck her without feeling guilty after , oh im sorry I mean "helping” you"  

“Actually you know what y/n yes okay yes im fucking ruby ,ya happy now , wanna know why? Cause she doesnt bitch all the time , she doesnt need me to protect her , id rather her have my back at least I can depend on her”

“SAM!”

dean yelled stepping between us.

I felt my heart shatter In pieces, I felt tears forming , I didnt want him to see me cry.

I walked away still hearing him yell at dean about how ruby is better for him than me , how maybe I should just go. I went to our room grabbing everything I could , smashing pictures as I walked around the room.

“Okay  sam , hope your happy”

I walked away grabbing my bag and a little money. I gave dean a hug then I walked out the door not looking back.

I finally got to a cheap hotel where I got a single bed for the weekend. I walked inside falling onto the bed tears falling down my face. How could he say that. I took a shower , getting out my phone had a text from dean.

-hey y/n think it finally hit sam your not coming back , he might try call ya Ill let you know if he does anything stupid and dont worry about ruby ill gank her soon-

I didn’t reply i want sam to worry to realize im not going back.

Its been two months since I left, i decided I need to get a apartment in a little town where supernatural things didn’t occur.  I went into the little market buying some food and shampoo oh and pregnancy test.

I got home taking the test , it came back positive only one guy could be the father.

Sam.

I havent slept with anyone else or even looked at another guy I still loved sam.                    

*TWO YEARS LATER*

“Mommy , mommy look”

I got down on knees taking the drawing out of ethans hand.

My son ethan looks just like his father , he has his eyes and hair , his laugh , smile. He makes me miss sam everyday.

“Thats amazing baby , what is it”

Looking at the drawings it was a very tall person with a cape and what look like dogs.

“Its daddy , you said hes saving people from devil dogs , silly mommy”

I put it on the frige placing him in his seat. I gave him his lunch , he always wanted to know about sam ever since he had a play date with a kid who had both his parents. I told him sam was off saving the world from monsters like ghost and devil dogs. He always asked if his daddy was coming home or will he ever see him.

He was so smart for a child his age. After lunch I asked if he wanted to go to the park to play and feed the ducks.

We got in the car buckling ethan into his seat. When got to the park , ethan took off for the swings. I sat on a bench close enough to see but not so close I can’t see my surroundings. Im still a hunter  after all. Ethan was playing tag with some of his friends when another mom came and sat next to me.

“Hey y/n , how are you”

“Im fine susan ,how are you”

“Honestly a little shook up , some fbi agents came to the house asking about murders”

“Creepy”

“Oh my thats them”

She pointed her finger over at two men in suits , walking twords us. I brushed my hair into my face , I turned to her but she was already gone. As they got closer I could hear them banter back and forth.

“Excuse me miss may we ask you some questions”

I sat up looking up at the man who spoke.

“Hi sam”

His jaw dropped as I spoke to him , I flashed a smile , I jumped up hugging dean before reaching out offering sam a hug. He pulled me in hugging me tightly his hands rested on my lower back. I pulled away still having the smell of him fill my nose

“So what’s going on , I havent heard about any murders”

Dean spoke when sam just stood  there with a big smile across his face.

“Happend in the 80’s thinking its a wendigo who went quite”

“You guys still gotta gank it nice or not a monsters a monster right”

“Right”

Dean winked at me before sam cut in.

“So uhh whats new”

“A little this , a litte that”

I didnt tell him about ethan, I didnt need a absent father in his life Sam kept glancing at the ground then back at me.

“We ganked ruby”

“Oh im sorry ”

“Im not ,she was tricking me”

“Oh well cant trust anyone I guess”

“Ive missed you y/n”

“I miss you too sam”

His smile grew bigger.

“Maybe we can get a drink tonight and talk”

“I can’t im sorry”

“Oh you got a boyfriend or something?”

“No ”

Dean now trying to help his brother spoke now giving me his best charm.

“Why dont the three of us go get a drink and talk about getting the band back together”

“Id love to you guys but I cant”

Sam was about to protest when ethan came running from the playground.

“Mommy , mommy I caught a bug”

I picked him up sitting him on my hip.

“Let me see”

He opend his hand showing a dead cricket"

“Its dead hun”

“I know silly mommy , it was scaring lisa so I saved her , like how daddy saved you from monsters”

I kissed his cheek putting him back down , crouching down I grabbed his hand.

“Go say bye we gotta go home”

He smiled running off to say bye, I stood up sam and dean both wide eyed and speechless.  I waved my hand in front of sams face making him snap out of his trance.

“You have a a a a son?”

“Yea his names ethan”

Sam stayed speachless watching ethan run back to us.

Ethan stood by my side , gripping my pant leg tightly. Sam crouched down pulling out his fake fbi badge.

“Hi im sam”

Ethan grabbed his badge.

“Im ethan”

“Tell him your full name ethan”

ethan tucked his head into my leg before looking back at sam smiling.

“My name is Ethan Samuel Winchester”

Sams head shot up looking at me, he stood up trying to figure out what to say.                                        

“Ethan hunny dont forget your toy”

He ran back to the swings where his toy dragon sat in the sand. Sam finally spoke.

“Is he mine?”

“Yes sam , hes your son”

“When did you find out"                    

"Maybe a month and a half after I left”

“Why didnt you call?”

“Didnt think you would care”

I could see tears filling up his eyes. Ethan walked over , picking him up I gave sam and dean quick hugs before walking to my car , shaky and on the verge of tears.

*sams pov*

Dean and I just killed off the 90 year old wendigo. Dean decided we had a crazy day so the bar was the perfect place to go. We sat down at a table near the back , dean ordered 6 shots of whiskey , 3 for each , and two beers one for each. As we drank my mind kept snapping back to y/n and our son.

“Sammy?”

I snapped out of my day dream to dean cheersing me with his shot.

“So you’re a daddy sam”

“Im not a dad im just the biological father , I wasnt there for anything”

Dean downed his other two shots , so did I. He raised he hand asking for 3

More rounds. We were in the middle of our 3 or was it 5th round with jack when I finally yelled.

“Why the fuck didnt she call me dean? Ya know just be like oh hey sam im pregnant with your child just fyi or a text something”

“You told her to go sam , told her you wanted ruby , that you were cheating on her with ruby , that you wished she left , you made her feel worthless , unloved , unwanted , you were so jacked up on demon blood you didnt care when she walked out the door”

I buried my face in my hands , dean was right , it was my fault she never came back or called , I dont blame her for hiding him from me.

Dean cleared his throat.

“She clearly tells the kid about you”

I looked up at him , feeling tears build behind my eyelids.

“What?”

“She tells the kid about you I mean you didnt hear him say he saved the girl from the bug like his daddy saved her”

My heart beat hard agianst my chest. I had to see her ,tell her everything. I stood up but dean pushed me back into my seat.

“2 more rounds”

After we drank I felt the room spinning , my thoughts jumbled between y/n and ethan , and more alcohol. I walked outside feeling the cold air hit my face.

“Cas!”

I yelled when I heard the sound of wings I turned to see 3 cas’s , he spoke but I couldn’t hear him.

“T-t-t take me to y/n”

Next thing I knew I was infront of a little white house.

*y/n pov*

*BANG BANG*

I ran to the door , it was 2 am who the hell is banging at my door this late. I opened the door to find a very drunk , very sad sam.

“Sam?”

He smiled pulling me to his chest.

“Y/n!!”

I took him inside sitting him on the couch handing him a water bottle.

“Sam what are you doing here?”

“This right here ”

He patted his hands on the couch.

“Is where im meant to be”

“Sam please dont”

“Please just listen”

I sat next to him making sure we didnt touch.

“Y/n im so sorry for how I acted , for what I s s s said , ruby was a lying bitch just l l like you said. She tricked me into horrible things I never had sex with her , I never even looked at her like that , I was so junked up on demon blood that I didnt see that you were what I needed , w w what I need baby.”

I saw tears falling from his eyes now when he spoke.

“Baby you are my world , and we have a son ,  , I dont blame you for keeping him from me, but I I can’t , wont miss anymore of his life or yours , I need you back y/n , im so sorry so so so sorry”

He was now full on crying , I could tell dean had gotten him drunk so he could say how he felt. He looked back at me , his eyes blood shot and his     breath smelling of whiskey.

“He has your eyes sam”

“Really?”

“Yeah , he is just like you more and more everyday”

I felt tears falling down my face.

“Sam you can come back but you have to be here , I wont let you hurt ethan”

“I wont ever hurt eaither of you”

His hands grabbed mine pulling me to him so now I was sitting on his lap facing him. He put one of his hands on my lower back while the other rested on my cheek. He closed the gap between us his lips gently touching mine. I kissed back running my hands through his hair making the kiss deeper.

“Ive missed you so much sam”

I helped him upstairs ,letting him sleep in my bed. As I layed next to him , he wrapped his hands around my waist pulling me into his spooning me.

“Does ethan know about me?”

“Yeah he knows you and dean hunting   monsters like ghost and demons but he thinks your a superhero”

I heard his laugh as we fell asleep. I woke up before sam untangling myself from him. I walked downstairs where ethan sat watching his morning cartoons. I called him over to the kitchen sitting him in his chair I went to the frige grabbing things for pancakes.

“Mommy what’s wrong?”

Ethan looked at me smiling

“Nothing baby”

I walked away from my mixing bowl picking ethan up sitting him on my hip. Grabbing my wallet I took the picture of me sam and dean out handing it to him.

“That right there is your uncle dean , hes really brave and the tall guy thats your daddy sam he’s my hero”

Ethan smiled holding the picture, I walked into the kitchen sitting him down on the floor. I heard steps coming from upstairs.

“Ethan hun I have a surprise for you”

His head snapped up looking at me with wonder.

“What is it mommy?”

“I want you to look at that picture real close”

As he squinted his eyes , sam came down standing at the walk way into the kitchen.

“Now ethan look up”

Ethan looked up from the picture , as his eyes met sam , the biggest smile formed across his face.

“DADDY!!!”

he ran over grabbing sams legs as sam picked him up.

“Daddy your back!”

Sam hugged him tears falling down his face.  His eyes locked onto mine.

“Daddys home now ethan”

After breakfast dean came over so ethan could know his family. As sam and I did dishes his hands grabbed my hips spining me around so now I was face to face with him.

“Y/n I wanna be a family”

“We are sam”

“I wanna make it offical”

He reached into his pocket pulling out a ring.

“I know its not much but will you marry me ?”

“Yes sam oh my lord yes”

He kissed me , my hands tangled in jis hair as we parted I could hear ethan and dean.

“Ew mommy and daddy are kissing”

“I know right gross”

I smiled at sam , knowing he will always be there for ethan and I

[lyricalt]

blackwatch + grocery shopping

Hahah, I actually had multiple shopping prompts stored away for both blackwatch and mcgenji. I decided to combine a little of both!

Blackwatch Era - PG - gen (light mcgenji.. maybe)

Sometimes, a stakeout leads to interesting places—casinos, mansions, forests, tropical islands—Blackwatch has been to them all.

Other times, it only leads to a late afternoon trip to Save-Mart with Gabriel sitting in an unmarked van, watching half a dozen monitors as his best three agents navigate the perils of peak rush hour grocery shopping.

They are supposed to be tailing a Miss Hanna Fisher, lead developer to an hard light manufacturer with a penchant for cooking her own meals. Her paycheck suggests that she could afford her own army of personal chefs if she wanted, but Gabriel appreciates the self-sufficiency. It makes following her easy. No bodyguards, no security system—foolish of her, despite her celebrity status.

Miss Fisher had just come straight from her office, still in her work clothes. They could lift a number of criminalizing things from her, which Gabriel plans to do.

He checks the screens once more, hacked security cameras feeding him the information, and notes that Moira has positioned herself at the back of the store, looking very intently at the butcher’s meat selection. Her eye implant shows Gabriel that she is debating between the sirloin steak or ribeye. The glass also gives her an acceptable reflection of Miss Fisher passing by.

“Ribeye’s tastier,” Gabriel suggests in her earpiece.

Moira, looking strangely sporty in her leggings and track jacket, taps a finger against her chin. “Who says I need it for eating?” she murmurs, and rings for the butcher.

Gabriel decides to not question her. He takes a peek at McCree and Genji, both at the fresh produce section. The audio visualizer on his monitor shows the rise and fall of their conversation. Luckily, the fluctuating levels seem to be normal. They aren’t arguing, at least.

On a whim, Gabriel had given them fifty dollars each for their cover. Curiosity also gets the better of him—he just wants to see what they would buy. He quickly learns that McCree is unsurprisingly frugal with his limited budget, and Genji unsurprisingly ignorant about anything that costs less than twenty dollars.

Gabriel tunes in to their conversation and catches the tailend of McCree’s snickering.

“Y’mean to tell me that you have no idea how much an apple would cost? An orange?”

On the screen, Genji looks down at his palm, a projection of his credits lighting over his gloved hand. He pauses, eyes dulling when it becomes apparent that he does not care to make a guess or likely can’t make a guess. “Shopping for groceries has never been a concern of mine.”

“Humor me,” McCree wheedles, not bothering to hide the predatory glee in his voice. “Cost of an apple. Your best estimate. No peeking.”

They are suppose to look like pair of friends. Gabriel sends Genji a stern text message into his HUD, and against all possibility, Genji’s expression becomes even more displeased through McCree’s body camera.

“About 1500 yen,” Genji says flatly.

McCree’s eyes bug out of his head.

Gabriel’s brow raises at that, and he attempts to clarify before McCree can double over in a fit of laughter. “So your guess is 14 American dollars? For one apple?”

“Am I correct or not?” Genji says, impatient.

McCree’s sharp inhale is answer enough. To his credit, he hurries away to the next aisle before he wheezes, out of reach from Genji.

“Fourteen dollars!” McCree breathes into his wire. The loud whoosh of his breath against the mic forces Gabriel to lower the volume. “Woo-ee, must be nice livin’ rich.”

“Focus, McCree. The mark is headed your way.”

It’s a low risk operation, one that permits some goofing off. Maybe even encourages goofing off, in Genji’s case. Gabriel has enough faith in his team to see through the mission, though he can admit to some concern for McCree’s well being if he keeps being smart with Genji.

But sure enough, Genji comes around the same aisle as Miss Fisher, shopping basket of assorted fruit bumping against his knees. Without much deliberation, he stands on his toes to reach for a family-sized package of salt.

The package just happens to be too large for Genji to grab one-handed, and with his free hand holding the shopping basket, it’s perfectly reasonable for Genji to fumble with the salt.

It is, perhaps, a little dramatic to flick his wrist, unlocking a switchblade to pierce through the paper package, and let the salt bounce off his shoulder, pop open from the impact, and spill all over Miss Fisher’s pants and shoes as she attempts to step aside.

Genji’s wrist turns, quicker than a blink, and the blade disappears back into the sleeve of his hoodie. He drops his basket in dismay, apples rolling down the aisle. “Oh no, I’m so sorry—”

Gabriel watches, amused as the scene unfolds on camera. Genji, in his apparent concern and embarrassment, bends down to brush the salt from Miss Fisher’s shoes, just as McCree approaches them from behind, dips his fingers into Miss Fisher’s purse, and laughs to distract her when Genji—more deft because of his cybernetics—passes his hand over the front of her jacket.

It’s over in less than five seconds. McCree tugs at the brim of his baseball cap, signaling while he profusely apologizes on Genji’s behalf.

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s fine,” says Miss Fisher, her purse now devoid of a wallet and the pocket of her jacket now holding a tracker bead, along with an additional bead on her shoe. She smiles reassuringly. “No harm done.”

McCree makes a polite fuss. “Thankfully it was only salt, yeah? Can’t imagine if—”

Genji is still crouched on the ground, busy collecting the fallen fruit. From his vision, Gabriel sees him go through the stolen wallet. McCree must have had handed it to him when turning Miss Fisher around to check for any more salt on her clothes.  Even he couldn’t catch the sleight of hand on the monitor.

“Second ID card. Scan both sides,” Gabriel says into Genji’s earpiece, and Genji does. “The business cards as well.”

Genji’s eye implants makes quick work of visually copying the contents, but he eventually straightens, tucking the wallet back into Miss Fisher’s purse.

“Sweetheart, next time let me grab the tall stuff for you,” McCree says, his tone so affectionate it could very well be sarcasm. “You’re too short to reach the high shelves.”

The lower half of Genji’s face remains covered, metal faceplate switched out to a more fashionable black dust mask, but Genji’s smile is still apparent in his eyes.

Gabriel hears the switchblade in Genji’s wrist click. He claps one hand over his headset. “Genji, you can stab him later,” he says hastily.

With another flick to close the blade, Genji reaches over, tugging the brim of McCree’s cap in confirmation and in a show of teasing for the benefit of Miss Fisher. “Thank you. You’re always so sweet.”

McCree frowns, staring at Genji. He readjusts his cap, which Gabriel chooses not to count as another confirmation signal.

Moira’s voice cuts through, having relocated to the cashiers where she intends to sneak a glance at Miss Fisher’s pin number. “What is going on?”

“Excuse me,” McCree mumbles, his frown disappearing to smile once more at Miss Fisher, “I’m gonna let the store know there’s a mess here.”

Genji shuffles next to McCree, sheepish. “Ah. I’ll come with you. It was my fault. I apologize again.”

Miss Fisher laughs, light and thoughtless. She waves them away. “Don’t worry about it.”

Gabriel sighs, his gaze turning weary as he watches McCree and Genji walk away from the mark. True to their word, they flag down a poor employee and make their way to the cashier.

Genji ends up purchasing more than fifty dollars worth of fruit, which McCree is forced to cover with half his own money.

Moira steals Miss Fisher’s pin, standing behind her in line, her cart full of fresh meat from the butcher. McCree has to make another hasty transfer of funds from outside the store.

Gabriel slumps back in his chair.

All in all, mission success.

[maniibear]

Photo Quest | On AO3 Word Count: ~7000 Warnings: None

Summary: A ficlet based on an old Imzy prompt. Steve loses a wallet, where he keeps a secret picture of Tony. His team of heroes is of no help, but hey, Thor's roommate Daryl has some strangely insightful advice about ham. 

Also for STONY Bingo Square S4 - ‘Pining’

Captain America didn’t panic. Serum-enhanced national treasures usually didn’t, and good for them because Steve Rogers⸺soldier, punk, plucky kid from Brooklyn⸺definitely was. Panicking, that is.

He thumbed tensely through the video feed on his Starkpad. A panoramic view of every common area in the Tower was right there at his fingertips, and some not-so-common areas were just a passcode away. In addition, he had access to satellite feeds and other methods of surveillance that walked a thin line Constitution-wise, but none of them really solved his problem.

“Anything?” he asked FRIDAY.

'Negative,’ replied the AI.

“Oh jeez, still?” Steve asked in a voice that might have been called a whine if someone who was not him were describing it.

“Captain, I’m doing my best,” FRIDAY protested. “A full building scan takes time, y’know?"

“Limit it to my recorded locations.” he commanded brusquely. “Last 48 hours."

“You didn’t authorize me to record your movements within the Tower,” said FRIDAY, and Steve figured he probably deserved the smug undertone behind her serene professionalism.

He closed his eyes and slumped back in his seat anyway. “Goddamn it."

“Woah, language.”

Steve snapped his eyes open at the wry tenor, instantaneously flipping the Starkpad over. He found himself face to face with Tony, much like a deer in headlights. It was not a good look on him, and Tony’s brow rose in predictable confusion.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked, and lightweight that he was, Steve could already feel his face grow warm.

He made a valiant effort nonetheless. “Nothing.”

“Oh, because it totally sounded like you were arguing with my AI,” Tony folded his arms now. He loomed, and Steve really had no other choice but to notice how he was dressed to spar— cutoff shirt, hand wraps, trunks that hugged his waist just right... “And losing."

While Steve battled his sudden case of dry mouth, Tony continued. “Come on, what’s making America’s golden boy swear in the presence of a disembodied lady?”

“I lost my wallet,” Steve admitted.

Tony looked skeptical, but didn’t actually say anything about it. He rattled commands off to his AI instead, “FRIDAY, order replacements for Cap’s charge cards and report his IDs as lost.”

“Already done, boss,” FRIDAY replied, more pleasantly than she’d done for Steve.

“Done,” Tony echoed. He flashed Steve a thumbs up. “Mission accomplished?”

Steve tapped his fingers on the Starkpad. “My wallet is still missing, so no.”

“Then, let’s order a wallet. You ok with leather?”

“Tony, no.” Steve shook his head. “I don’t want a new wallet, I’m going to find my old one.”

“Why?”

And that’s the thing about Steve: he may be a terrible casual liar, but he was made to get out of potentially ruinous situations that might threaten the very structure of the team.

He stood and clasped Tony’s shoulder. “Because I’m a weird old man, remember? Let me live.”

Steve managed to pull off a mostly casual stroll to the elevator to head up to his suite. He smiled genially at Tony through the doors while pressing the button to his floor, and Tony stared back at him with undisguised suspicion.

Steve held his smile for the eternity it took for the elevator doors to close, and slumped back against the wall as soon as they did. Why was he like this?  

The next morning, when his wallet was officially missing for 12 hours, Steve commandeered the Avengers weekly standup to enlist some help. It was perfect cover since Hawkeye and Bruce weren’t phoning in; there was no weird raven reporting on Thor’s behalf, and most importantly, no indication that Iron Man was going to break his perfect record of never attending a single one of these. Hiding in plain sight⸺this is why Steve was a master tactician.

Also, since he would be asking them to cancel whatever plans they had at eight o’clock in the morning, Steve let Natasha pick refreshments and agreed to meet in a place of Sam’s choice. Naturally, he found himself wedged between the two in Stark Tower’s rooftop jacuzzi, sharing a box of donuts and drinking sangria before noon.

Sam wiggled his toes and squinted at the sun from behind his sunglasses. “More missing persons?” he asked. “This guy got a metal arm and an attitude, too?”

“Not a person,” Steve corrected. “My wallet.”

“Your wallet,” Sam echoed. “Slow crime day, if the Avengers are assembling for a wallet.”

“No,” Steve replied abruptly, then more calmly. “No assembling; we keep this between us. Need-to-know only.”

“Ok…” Sam grabbed the last Boston creme from the box and licked it to protect it from Natasha. “Hey, do you still carry that picture of Stark around with you?”

Steve sunk a fraction deeper into the jacuzzi so the warm, foaming water lapped at his throat. “Kind of.”

Natasha laughed. “That’s cute. So last century, but cute.”   

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “You don’t even have a copy saved on your phone?”

“I do,” Steve grumbled back. “But the one in my wallet is still out there somewhere, where anyone can find it. Look, I’m not forcing you guys to help⸺”

“Come on, man, don’t mope,” Sam nudged at Steve’s calf with his foot underwater. “We’re just wondering, as friends do, why you haven’t told Stark how you feel. He’s single, you’re single; and now that you guys aren’t measuring dicks anymore, it can’t hurt to go out on a date or two.”

Steve stalled behind a long sip of his sangria. It was a good drink even if it wouldn’t get him buzzed, but it didn’t have a magic answer to Sam’s question, either. 

“We’re not fighting,” Steve agreed slowly. “But it’s touch and go, y’know? Last thing I want to do is throw off the team...balance.”  

Sam didn’t look convinced. “You know it’s creepier to carry a picture around like that, right?”

“Only if Tony finds out,” Natasha said, which Steve gratefully followed up with, “Which is why I need to find my wallet before someone else does!”

They didn’t need to see behind the shades to know Sam was rolling his eyes. 

“You two are...so well-adjusted,” he sighed, diving back into the safety of booze and donuts. “Seriously, if I ever call you guys for advice, assume I’m a Skrull.”

“Good morning, kids!”

Everyone startled at the voice coming from the far side of the jacuzzi. Iron Man hovered into view and the faceplate flipped up, so Tony stared back at them in open curiosity. He eyed the nearly empty box of donuts on the hot tub rim, the pitcher of sangria tucked into an insulated floating drinks holder, and finally at the three Avengers. Steve suddenly became hyper-aware of his splayed posture, but naked except for swimshorts and his favorite neck floatie didn’t exactly lend an air of professionalism.

“Tony!” he greeted instead. “What are you doing here?”

“I showed up for the weekly,” Tony replied. “but the conference room was empty and FRIDAY mentioned you all were here.” He smirked at Steve. “Forget how to update the calendar, Captain, or is this not that meeting?”

“Oh no, we’re still meeting,” Sam replied quickly before Steve could make up something painfully unconvincing. Then, traitorously, he moved away from Steve and nodded at the newly cleared space. “Take a seat.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Natasha confirmed smoothly. “We were just going over cyber security protocols.”

Tony grinned. “Oh, just my thing,”

The armor touched down on just beyond the hot tub, and the shining carapace unfurled. Tony stepped out of it with the usual seamless grace that only came from supreme confidence in his own creation. Not for the first time, Steve found himself marveling at the sheer genius, but then to his aroused consternation, Tony began to strip.

His shirt came off first, revealing a tanned torso, one definitely more cut and powerful than it looked under his clothes. Steve understood this because he was an artist, of course, with an eye for form and mass, although that didn’t explain his sudden, perverse curiosity as to whether Tony would be wearing underwear once he shuffled out of his yoga pants.

As it turned out, he needn’t have worried on that end. Tony was wearing briefs. Tight black ones, certainly, but they were there, thank god, because master tactician or not, Steve didn’t have a plan for dealing with a naked Tony lounging beside him in a hot tub.  

As it is, he was fighting a blush and the butterflies in his stomach when their team genius stepped in next to Steve with an ironic little greeting of, ‘Capsicle’. 

Completely to oblivious to the effect he was having, Tony made himself at home in his own jacuzzi, curling his arms over the rim so his right extended behind Steve’s back and his left behind Sam’s. If Tony didn’t stop squirming so blissfully under the warm water, Steve thought frantically, he was going to have a hard time in more than one sense of the phrase.

Luckily in the meantime, Nat had actually launched into a spiel about secure comms and text messages, which kept everyone’s libido pretty well in check. The problem only arose when she brought up the topic of government email servers and Tony got all up in her face for daring to compare their shoddy security to his.

He did this by leaning over Steve to gesticulate wildly, flinging water everywhere and letting his bare body bump up against Steve’s equally bare flank in the throes of passionate argument. Natasha argued back, but given the lack of conviction in her tone, Steve suspected she wasn’t trying to win more than she was trying to get a rise out of Tony.

Ok, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase to use, but it wasn’t inaccurate as Steve helplessly stared at the side of Tony’s head, where small droplets clung to the dark hairs at the nape of his neck and occasionally slipped down his shoulder and heaving pecs…

“Calm down,” Steve interrupted, hysterically unsure whether he was telling Tony or his own dick. “I think you’ve made your point. Government routers don’t make downloading any safer.”

“Finally!” Tony said. He didn’t sound pleased, but at least he wasn’t practically draped over Steve’s lap anymore, so the chances of a real boner were—

“But what about VPN?” Sam piped up innocently.

Steve stared at his friend in disbelief as Tony swallowed the bait and whirled the other way with an indignant, “Wilson, you know that’s not how it works!”

Another farcical debate began and this time, Steve felt his breath hitch as Tony’s ass directly wedged against this bare thigh and, wow, those were some really form-fitting underwear...

While he suffered in silence, Natasha reached around Steve’s elbow and took the last donut. Behind her, the Iron Man stared back in impassive judgement.

On Tuesday evening, Steve signed into his weekly conference call with Thor and Bruce. There was an interesting friendship. Nobody had been surprised when Tony whisked Bruce away to bond over science, but it quickly became apparent that Thor not only had better insight into the kind of science that Bruce liked, but also lent a broad and supportive shoulder when it came to the whole uncontrolled rage monster aspect. A couple stories about berserkers casually slipped in at the right time, and Bruce discovered the one Avenger he didn’t have to worry about Hulk-ing out and hurting.

As he listened to Bruce talk, Steve thought about how, for all that he knew about the longevities and loyalties of friendship, he’d underestimated the virtues of plain old peace of mind.

Behind Bruce, Thor rolled into the frame on a razor scooter, followed by a doughy, defeated-looking man holding a small golden urn. Thor beamed when he caught sight of Steve.

“Aha!” he declared, and pulled a 180 on the scooter so fast that the man trailing him nearly smacked into Thor’s broad chest. “You say I do not have a job? Explain that!”

“My friend from work, whom you know as the Incredible Hulk,” Thor pointed at Bruce first, then he jabbed his finger at the screen. “and that is our fearless leader, Captain America. Steve Rogers, meet my roommate, Daryl. D, Steve Rogers.”

Steve raised a brow, and mimicked Bruce’s tentative wave. So this was Daryl. When Thor first mentioned a flat and roommate in Australia, of all places, Steve admittedly hadn’t given it much more thought than he did stories about wild bilgesnipes or the Ginnungagap, but now, well, it was nice to put a face to the email address from which he’d been receiving irregular and rambling updates about Thor’s life down under.

He should go to Australia, Steve mused, travel for something other than work. He felt himself smile as he pictured leaving the shield to Sam, and foisting Wanda and Vision on Natasha, while Fury and Hill howled in protest at Captain America trading in his uniform for board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. He’d book a flight with a decent civilian airline and dream about crystal clear waters and beachy sunsets while his Avengelings’ waved their handkerchiefs in farewell.

Of course, the only problem was that he’d be leaving Tony behind, too. Steve’s brow wrinkled at the thought of Tony rattling around in Stark Tower by himself. Who’d bring him snacks in the lab and treats for his bots? Butterfingers especially was growing fond of getting bits of arcane, analog tech whenever Steve visited...

“You took troubled, my friend,” Thor stated. “Your lips are drawn, and your face, pinched like a squalling babe. Is there something amiss in New York?”

Steve watched Thor’s imitation of his face in mild alarm, and considered denying that anything was wrong, but then, Bruce also chimed in. “Not the way I’d have put it, but he’s not wrong, Cap. You’d call us if we need to assemble, right?”

“Of course, I would,” Steve assured them quickly. “And no need to assemble, I just lost my wallet the other day and I’ve had a hell of a time looking for it.”

“That sucks,” Bruce sympathized. “FRIDAY can replace your cards and IDs, right?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, but that’s not the point, really.”

“It is your cash, then,” Thor guessed. “Worry not, if you require rent money, I shall send you some.” He upended Daryl’s urn so bright golden coins spilled across the desk. “Asgardian gold; each of these is worth a gazillion of your human dollars.”

Daryl looked pained. “I told you, nobody will exchange that.”

Steve made a frustrated noise of his own, not because he was particularly invested in the exchange rate between US Dollars and Asgardian space gold, but because his woes had nothing to do with money.

He said as much, and Bruce put on his thinking face. “I mean, what else is in a wallet?”

“Condoms!” suggested Thor. The coins jumped when he smacked his fist on the table. “A loyalty card for the bar of blow drys? Or a snack of cheese and savory ham!”

“Let’s go with that,” Steve quickly agreed before the suggestions became any more outlandish. Truth be told, he could use a fresh perspective on his missing item, but he knew better than to ask outright. Daryl was listening, and while it was one thing for their close-knit team to know he carried a torch for Tony Stark, but he wasn’t about to spill his business to a stranger and make work for SI’s PR team.

“So, let’s say this ham...has sentimental value.”

At that, Bruce and Thor exchanged a knowing look. Daryl’s expression compounded to pained and baffled.

“You’re gaga over a ham?” he asked in a tone which made Steve suspect he was quite over the myth of superheroes.

“Have a care how you speak to our friend, Daryl,” Thor warned mildly. “Captain America carries a ham in his wallet, true, but he does not eat it because he is afraid that though the ham is delectable and a very fine cut indeed, it still might disagree with him.”

“How…” Daryl wet his lips. “How does he know that?”

Steve watched Bruce scratch his head. “Well, he and the ham kinda disagreed before.”

“So, you’re just going to leave it there?” Daryl frowned. “Won’t it go bad?”

Steve figured the metaphor had gone too far at this point. Thor just shrugged. “We are immortal,” he said. “The pain of…disagreeable ham smarts a long time. Perhaps, it is best to wait for it to cure some more.”

Ok, the metaphor had definitely gone too far. Even Bruce was making his experiment-failed face, but before Steve could change the subject to something less stressful, Daryl stared fiercely into the webcam.

“Actually, even if I were an immortal, I reckon I wouldn’t wait,” he said, then steamrolled on because yeah, fuck superheroes. “Look, it sounds like you’re pretty attached to this...ham, and yeah, you might find another ham at the market tomorrow, but it won’t be the same as this one, will it? I guess what ‘m sayin’ is: life goes on, but you don’t find a good ham everyday. So, best get your act together before someone else takes this one; isn’t Captain America s’posed to be brave and what not?”

“Um.” Steve stared back speechlessly. Bruce took his glasses off to clean them, which he often did when he witnessed something impressive. Thor beamed proudly, but he still took pity and offered, “And if that fails, friend Bruce has been working on a way to travel back in time.”

Steve must have looked pretty eager, because Bruce was quick to deny it. “Theoretically,” he said. “There is currently no feasible way to actually time travel.”

Bummer.

A notification at the edge of his computer caught Steve’s attention. Someone was requesting access to his office and FRIDAY helpfully tilted the entryway camera to reveal Tony. Steve smiled while granting access, feeling a usual surge of glee at the prospect of spending time with Tony, even if he’d spent the last few minutes referring to the man as a ham.

“Guys, good talking to you, but I have to go,” he told the webcam. Then, Steve smiled kindly at Daryl, “And about the Asgardian gold...contact your local SHIELD office, son.”

The Avengers had been a team for the better part of two years, yet Steve could only count a handful of times he’d seen Tony completely relaxed. The man had a sixth sense for being observed, and he could go from zero to PR masterpiece in no time at all, so it was a rare thing to catch him in ‘off-mode’.

Steve spared one eye to the latest proposal to upgrade his shield, and kept the other on Tony. He was laid out over the length of Steve’s couch--one of those microfiber numbers that didn’t look comfortable to sit on, but was good for a power nap or two. His dark tanktop was wrinkled and his hands were grease-stained as he scratched thoughtfully at his beard.

When he sensed Steve watching, he turned and asked, “Really, a roommate? What, did Thor take an ad out on Craigslist or something? Why didn’t he just ask me to arrange a place?”

“He wants to experience Earth,” Steve replied, swiveling back and forth on his office chair because Tony’s mood was catching. “What so bad about that? He’s not living in the trenches.”

Tony rubbed his eyes momentarily. “It’s bad PR,” he complained. “Thor’s an Avenger, not a broke grad student. And what kind of a name is Daryl? Anyone do a background check on the guy?”

“I did,” Steve answered immediately, unable to help the proud uptilt in his voice. “Daryl buys a few more lottery tickets than he really should, but no signs that he’s a HYDRA sleeper.”

Tony looked skeptical. “Trust no one without a dark side, remember?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I forwarded it to Nat for a double check,” he said, and wondered if he should be insulted at how quickly Tony brightened again.

“That’s a relief,” Tony said, then shrugged. “No offense, Cap, but FRIDAY tells me you rage quit the CyberSec module I prepared for you.”

“I didn’t rage quit,” Steve countered. “I just...we had emergencies.”

Tony smirked. “You know, there’s no shame in asking for help, Capsicle. There’s a trick to these newfangled encryptions.”

Steve fiddled with a nearby pen and pretended to consider, even if he welcomed the chance to spend more time with Tony in close quarters. “You’d do that?”

“Of course, I would,” Tony replied. “Tell you what, I have a few hours open tonight, so if you wanna come by at 8…”

Steve winced. “I’ve plans tonight. Dinner with Sharon.”

“Oh,” Tony nodded and sat up on the couch. He scratched at an oily smear on his wrist. “Another time then, just have your people talk to my AI.”

He was smiley enough, but seemed more subdued than before. Steve nearly offered to cancel his plans when Tony looked up again.

“Hey, you find your wallet?”

Steve resisted the urge to fidget nervously. “No, I’m still looking.”

“Ok, why?” Tony demanded, pitching forward curiously. “What’s so special about a wallet? Brooklyn diner won’t give you the early bird special without your AARP card?”

“Hilarious,” Steve deadpanned. “I have other important things in there.”

“Like what?”

“Analog stuff; not quite up your alley,” Steve gave what he hoped was an easy grin, and stretched in his chair to relieve the jitters. God help his team if their lives ever depended on him keeping a secret under direct pressure from Tony.

For his part, Tony was staring back at him, expression strange. If Steve didn’t know better, he might have called it appreciative, but he did know better, so he braced instead for a retort from a man offended.

But Tony just exhaled through his nose and ventured to ask, “Is it, uh, anything to do with Peggy?”

Steve raised his brow, taken mildly aback. “No,” he replied softly. “It’s nothing like that, Tony, I meant it’s sentimental.”

“So, you can replace it,” Tony prodded.

“I guess,” Steve allowed, biting his lip. “But this is something I got right the first time I went for it-- that makes it rare. Um, for me.”

“Wow, I’ve got shivers,” Tony heaved himself off the couch and ran a hand through his hair. “Literally zero clues, but shivers.”

Steve bowed his head in a laugh, then looked up fondly. “I know, but I do appreciate that you care, Tony.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tony muttered, albeit indulgently, and tapped Steve’s shoulder on his way out. “Stay weird, old man.”

-

Later that night, Steve met Sharon in a modern speakeasy that was somewhat busy for a week night. Still, they’d managed to find a quiet spot in the corner and were hunched over a couple of beers, a basket of fries, and the ugliest mugshot ever taken. Seriously, how was HYDRA still claiming to be a master race when their latest lieutenant looked like a syphilitic thumb with tiny eyes?

Steve dutifully glanced at the entrance, nevertheless, because they were here on good intel and taking this asshole down would make his otherwise shitty week.  

“I’m impressed,” Sharon was saying as she munched on a fry. “I mean, yeah, it’s “wrong", but someone successfully pickpocketed Captain America⸺I should be offering them a job.”

“You don’t have proof that I was pickpocketed,” Steve told her sullenly, chasing a bit of sriracha mayo on his fingers. “I probably just misplaced it while distracted.”

“Distracted,” Sharon snickered. “Was a certain billionaire philanthropist flexing in the vicinity?”

“Genius billionai⸺,” Steve started to correct her without thinking, then closed his mouth in panic. Quickly, he inventoried people entering the bar: two guys in sports jerseys, a goth kid, and three women wearing identical red saris and flowers in their hair. Not a thumb among them, thankfully. But still!

“Sharon, you can’t just say that here!”

She shrugged. “And you can’t commandeer SHIELD resources for stuff you just misplaced.”

That...was a fair point, but nobody ever said Captain America never came prepared. “What if the situation compromises the Avengers?”

“How does a crush on your teammate compromise the Avengers?”

“It was one thing when I had Peg’s picture inside my compass; a soldier keeping his best girl close was normal, not a thing wrong with it,” Steve mopped up the last of the sauce with his fries and thought while he chewed all six of them at once. “But with Tony, there’s PR to think about, and you know how little information it takes to ruin someone these days.”

He shook his head as images of lurid web articles and plummeting stocks charts did a macabre sort of conga through his brain. “Tony’ll hate me. The team splits, taking sides, and it’ll be too weird to work together anymore and poof⸺ no more Avengers.”

Steve raised his brow pointedly, only to catch Sharon staring back at him baffled. “What the actual hell, Rogers?”

Before Steve could respond, however, the door to the speakeasy slammed open and The Thumb walked in, flanked by two henchmen.

“Confirming by facial recognition,” Sharon said crisply. “But this is not over, Steve. Wherever you’re getting these batshit ideas⸺ “

“Batshit?!” Steve protested, surreptitiously reaching under the table for his shield.

Sharon readied her gun. “You know what, Aunt Peg always told me two things: don’t put things off, and don’t think for others.”

Steve watched as the Thumb seated himself at a barstool in front of the TV, and sighed fondly to himself, because yeah, Peggy believed in giving people a choice, even if she ended up with the short straw sometimes.

Still, he glanced dryly at Sharon and asked, “Is this where you encourage me to confess my feelings?”

Sharon smirked, hand on her gun and eyes on the Thumb, who was now snarling at the news. “Actually, I can appreciate you being cautious,” she said. “But, Steve. Neighborino. You’d better not be holding back because you already made Stark’s decision for him.”

As if on cue, the TV switched to an image of Tony speaking into a mic. The Thumb shouted something obscene and threw his beer bottle at the screen, which resulted in surprisingly less chaos than Steve anticipated. Mostly because almost all the other patrons had also drawn weapons.

“Stand back!” Sharon barked first. “I’m Agent 13, with SHIELD!”

“You stand back!” the goth kid from earlier countered over his Sig 226. “CIA!”

“Homeland Security,” announced one of the three sari ladies, flowers tumbling over her shoulder. “Sorry, kid, this one’s ours.”

“Like hell,” Sports Jersey man snapped. “FBI’s been on this for months!”

Steve wearily turned to the bartender, “And you?”

The bartender steadied his own pistol and shrugged. “Sir, I am a private, tax-paying business owner with second amendment rights…”

Of course. Steve closed his eyes and cursed inwardly. So much for a satisfying night.

Even after pulling rank, affiliation, and feigning hanger to slip out of the ensuing battle over jurisdiction of the Thumb, Steve still only managed to get home at around three in the morning. The fact that he was already in civvies saved him a trip to the armory, but he did run into Tony as he made his way to the suite elevators.

They stared at each other for a bit, obviously trying to extrapolate where the evening might have taken them. Tony was dressed in expensive business casual⸺ dark jacket and slacks accented with certain pastels he seemed to favor these days. Steve, on the other hand, felt self-conscious in sweat-stained sports bar get-up and messy hair. The skirmish with the Thumb had also left him with bruises, which were still healing in pink splotches across his jaw and neck.

Tony gave him a once over and commented, “I take it dinner was good?”

 Was it? Steve thought about his evening, and bristled at the implication of four intelligence agencies blindly converging on one throwaway henchman and tipping off actual high profile targets in a hundred mile radius.

“It was certainly something,” he said with a rueful smile. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the action. And Sharon, she’s...well, she and I happen to be very good at action. 

Tony raised a brow just as the elevator slid open. “Uh-huh...”

“But call me old fashioned, and you know, you do,” Steve playfully bumped Tony’s shoulder with his own. “but I wish we’d all sit down and talk about what this means in the long-term.”

Tony raised his brow as the elevator doors slid open. “I...that’s,” he took a deep breath while they stepped inside and punched the buttons to their respective floors. “So, it’s really serious?”

Steve snorted, because after his disaster of an evening? Yeah. “I’d say it’s pretty damn serious, Tony. We can’t live divided like this.”

Tony immediately folded his arms across his chest, looking troubled.  “Wh...um, what about the Avengers?”

 Steve considered. Outwardly, it did look like the Avengers tagged along with SHIELD. Their status was pretty ambiguous internally as well, which meant SHIELD would try to make decisions on their behalf and Tony was right to be concerned about that.

“Absolutely, I’ll have to think about it,” he agreed. “We all know SHIELD’s definition of liaisoning is a bit skewed.”

At the moment, the elevator opened to Steve’s suite. He gave Tony a quick salute as he stepped out, but Tony still held the doors open. “Listen, Steve,” he called, and Steve turned back. “Not saying it won’t be hard, but nobody’ll stand in the way of a good thing. We trust you and, y’know...we’ll be there for you. And all that jazz.”

 He couldn’t help it, Steve positively beamed at the thought of seeing to his team’s best interests with Tony at his side. Now more than ever, he was determined to do what it took to clear their path, so Tony’s sharp wit and genius could build great things on it.

“Thank you, Tony,” he said breathlessly. “Have a good night.”

 Tony stepped back into the elevator. His smile was lopsided and jerky when he whispered back, “Night, Steve.” 

When Wednesday morning rolled around, Steve didn’t see hair nor hide of Tony. He ate breakfast alone and went to debrief with Phil only to find out that Tony had emailed his update instead of attending. Three texts went unanswered, and when he asked FRIDAY to make a call, the AI informed him that her boss was on lockdown in his lab and that a huge chunk of Steve’s own day was blocked off for an outreach engagement.

At 11 o’clock, Steve found himself struggling into his old uniform, which he he was sad to discover had not been mercilessly burnt months ago. It made him look like a cartoon, but the production team deemed it ‘child-and-adolescent-friendly’; not like his current uniform, which was just proficiently hostile, Captain Rogers, we’re talking to kids, not terrorists.

Fine. He’ll wear it, Steve decided, but he wasn’t going to like it, even if nobody seemed particularly concerned about his opinion anyway. As Steve fumbled with his zipper behind the scant privacy screen, producers, technicians, and PA’s scurried about the studio in a chaotically organized swarm that made the air thick with tension.

On a nearby folding chair with his codename emblazoned on it, Hawkeye lay back, sipping cucumber water through a crazy straw. He turned and peeked over his shades when Steve came out.

“How do I look?”

“You’re asking me?” Clint feigned shock and awe. “Captain America wants my opinion? Gol-ly!”

“Clint.” Steve rolled his eyes and plopped into his own chair. The uniform fabric squeaked and strained, but valiantly held together. “I said I was sorry.”

“Still hurts, Cap,” Clint replied and sipped more cucumber water. “How do you get advice from Thor’s weird roommate before you come to me? I’m an actual retrieval specialist!”

“To be fair, I didn’t ask for Daryl’s advice,” Steve pointed out. “But I am asking you: Hawkeye, can you please get my wallet back?”

Clint made a face. “I didn’t say that.”

Steve sighed and took a sip from his own water bottle, carefully so he didn’t ruin his makeup. “Great, back to Plan A, then.”

“What’s plan A?”

“Praying for it to turn up?” Steve sniffled lightly, and wiggled his fingers inside stiff, scarlet gloves.

Clint aimed a kick at his calf. “Ah, don’t mope, Rogers,” he said. “You asked if I was going to get your wallet back, and the answer to that is no. But I’ll tell you where it is.”

Steve cast a suspicious glance to the side. “How do you know where it is?”

Clint whistled. “So many questions, and all of them wrong. Listen, just promise you’ll go in and get it yourself. No hiding behind ‘Tash or Sam, none of that sneaky-sneaky.”

“I’m not negotiating till I know the intel’s good, Clinton.”

“You had twenty dollars and fifty-nine cents, a visa credit card, a picture of Stark from the Expo last year, and about ten receipts from Fro-Yo Mama,” Clint smugly rattled off the contents of Steve’s wallet, then leered knowingly. “That’s interesting; wouldn’t have pegged you for such a fan of frozen yogurt.”

Steve pursed his lips. “Where is it?”

Surprisingly, Clint replied without extra commentary. “It’s in the Tower, Cap. Go home after this and find today’s copy of the Times. In it, there’s an article by a Ms. Huggenkiss. Read every third word and follow the clues.”  

“Seriously?” Steve groaned. “Why do this?” 

Clint shrugged. “You’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”

Before Steve could rattle off all his disappointments, however, somebody called out from the middle of the set. “We’re ready for you, Mr. America.”

Steve leveled a last, displeased look at Clint and took up his cowl. God, he looked even stupider with his glorified stocking pulled over his head. Still, he quickly managed to school his features, paste on a winsome smile and straddle the chair provided because he’d been assured this was how the kids did it these days. 

“So,” he compassionately said to the camera. “Your bodies are changing...”

It took a special kind of writer to create a teleprompter spread equating the super soldier experiment to puberty. Steve was impressed, learned a few new things, and yet he still left the studio in polite haste because there were whispers about USCIS wanting in on the PSA action, and he was in no mood to stand before a backdrop of the Statue of Liberty and talk about being an ‘immigrant of time’.

Steve went straight back to the Tower and parked his motorbike in the expansive garage. “Is Tony out yet?” he asked hopefully.

“Sorry, Captain, but no,” FRIDAY replied.

Steve mumbled a disappointed thanks and took the elevator up to the communal floor. As he zoomed up to the topmost floors of the Tower, he wondered if he’d missed something during their conversation last night. Steve had never asked Tony about his evening; he’d been too caught up in the idea of them settling the future of the Avengers together. The thought made him smile even now, but he couldn’t imagine why Tony would go into lockdown all of a sudden.

For a brief, wild moment, Steve wondered if it was because of the wallet situation; if Tony was insulted at Steve keeping petty secrets from him all while proposing that they co-lead the team. His gut clenched uncomfortably, because Tony Stark wasn’t stupid, and he would have noticed Steve whispering with the rest of the team. Somehow, he managed to alienate Tony with the very strategy he was following to not alienate Tony.

Stepping out of the elevator, Steve scratched nervously at the back of his neck. The living room was empty, but bright with natural light, and immaculate from a recent visit by the maintenance staff. Couch cushions were rearranged tastefully, coasters replaced in their holder, and on the coffee table was a neatly folded copy of the Times.

Steve flipped through it skeptically, but lo and behold, there was indeed an article by the person Clint mentioned. Amanda Huggenkiss, hilarious. And to top it all off, it was a critic’s review for a movie about⸺ Steve checked the title twice⸺ mobile phone emojis. Incredible.

Following Clint’s increasingly ridiculous clues led Steve to Tony’s lab, right after a useless tour through the helipad, a server closet, and a trophy room he hadn’t even known existed. Once down there, he stood desperately at the entrance, pawing and waving until Tony himself told him to piss off over the intercom.

“I’m really busy, Steve.”

“That’s ok,” Steve replied quickly. “I’m here to see Butterfingers. Won’t bother you at all.”

Tony didn’t reply, but a good 15 seconds later, the doors whooshed open and Steve hurried in. He spared a smile for Tony, who was watching him curiously, but true to his word, he made a beeline for the bot in question. Butterfingers greeted him with happy, inquisitive chirping. Its arm swiveled enthusiastically in Steve’s direction, clearly hoping for a treat.

“Not today, fella,” Steve told it. “I have it on good authority that you took something of mine the other day.”

Butterfingers actually jerked like it was taken aback at the accusation. Then, Tony chimed in to ask, “You accusing my robot of theft, Rogers? Do I need to get his lawyer on the phone?”

“No, I’m sure it was an accident,” said Steve. He turned back to Butterfingers and looked into the blinking panel that he thought of as its eye. “I didn’t bring you anything when I was here to discuss upgrades last week, so you thought my wallet was a treat, right?”

A moment passed in which nothing happened. In the corner of his eye, Steve saw Tony push his goggles up onto his head to observe, and he really hoped he didn’t look like a complete tool, bantering with a robot.

Luckily, Butterfingers retreated to a corner of the lab and extricated something from a pile of other textile scraps. It came back with Steve’s wallet clutched carefully in its arm, and dropped it in his hands with a series of sad beeps.

“Sorry,” Steve said soothingly. “but stuff in my pocket’s off limits, ok? Promise, and I’ll bring you some nice original transistors next time.”

Butterfingers chirped excitedly at that, and Tony snorted. “You’re a sucker for nostalgia, you know that?” he told the bot.

Steve laughed softly and triumphantly waved his wallet. Tony made an ironic gesture of applause. “Great job, detective Capslock. Guess life goes back to normal now.”

Steve caught sight of his forced smile and deflated. “About that,” he ventured. “Tony, can we talk? I’ve been an ass this week, and I’m sorry, but believe it or not, I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Tony frowned. “What?”

Taking the question as an invitation, Steve wandered closer and lay his wallet on the table between him and Tony. He flipped it open and slowly slid out the polaroid nestled in an inner pocket. It was slightly faded, but it was unmistakably a picture of Tony in a bespoke suit, leaning over to watch something obviously fascinating because his eyes were wide with wonder, and his expression almost loving.

“Is that me?” Tony asked, voice nearly a whisper.

Steve swallowed. “Yeah, um, Stark Expo 2016. You were watching a demo and it was the first time I’d seen you look so..I don’t know, open. I mean, you’re usually watching out for cameras or the paparazzi, but not here and I couldn’t help it, I…um.”

Tony dropped his face into his hands and Steve trailed off. Perfect. He was a creep and Tony was embarrassed. Steve just began to contemplate finding the nearest block of ice to crawl back into when Tony looked up, eyes wide and mildly haunted.

“I thought you were leaving the Avengers to be with Sharon.”

Steve startled. “What? Why would I���” he began, then remembered the night in the elevator. Ok, yes, he could see how that might have been misconstrued. He hurriedly shook his head and said, “No, Tony, that was something else. Something we need to talk about, sure, but it has nothing to do with me leaving the Avengers for Agent 13.”

Tony took a deep breath, like a drowning man taking his first gulp of air. He scrubbed his face again and said, “Good. Good, ‘cause I was...not taking that well.”

For the first time, Steve looked out over the workbench where Tony gestured. It looked like a tornado had gone through the place; fragments of tech strewn everywhere, prototypes lay buried under their own electric viscera like someone messily gutted them to painstakingly rebuild again. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “Turns out it hurt more than I thought. I mean, do you ever feel something, but you let it lie because why not, you have time. But then, life moves on, and next thing you know, you’re in the fucking elevator at 3AM and the guy you want to build a team with is giving you his 2-week notice, and⸺”

“Tony,” Steve breathed in to steady his own breath, because his brain was having trouble reconciling what Tony said to what he’d convinced himself Tony would say. Nevertheless, he placed his hand over their engineer’s on the table, and felt it shake under his palm. “It’s ok. Really. I understand.”

Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What, you have a weird obsession with this group of misfits too?”

“Do I⸺ you have no idea!” Steve exclaimed, unable to stop the sheer happiness inside him bubble up as delirious laughter. “The Avengers are my home, Tony, all I want is to make this team the best it can be. With you. God, especially with you.”

Tony stared back at him, possibly for the first time, speechless. “Well, shit,” he managed to sigh. “How did we miss that?”

“Because I’m an idiot!” Steve declared, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been mooning over a picture when I should have been listening to the real deal.”

“And I hid in here to lick my wounds instead of fighting for you,” Tony mumbled. He slid his hand out from under Steve’s and intertwined their fingers together instead. “We’re both hopeless, but we got this far, somehow.”

Steve looked up and met warm, brown eyes that shone just as hopefully as his own. “We did,” he agreed. “We did, and I can’t wait to see how much further we can go, but…well, you should also know that I don’t carry your photo ‘round cause I admire you.”

Tony made a strange noise. “Admire me?”

“I like you too,” Steve admitted. “Very much. I know it’s a lot, even in this day and age, and you’re a public figure, too.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony said. “But let’s get back to the part where you like me...and want to raise the Avengers with me?”

Steve felt his lips pull into a stupid grin again, like this thought would forever fill him with joy. ‘Raise the Avengers’, god, did Tony have a way with words.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That about sums it up.”

Tony held his gaze and leaned forward just imperceptibly. “And you’re willing to kiss on it?”

Steve immediately felt his cheeks heat. Barely hearing himself over the sound of his own pounding heartbeat, he said, “Yes, Tony, I will kiss on⸺”

Ah. Steve’s breath caught when Tony’s lips touched him, and he closed his eyes, savoring their proximity, the stubble scratching his mouth. Instinctively, he bought one hand up to caress the side of Tony’s cheek. It was a chaste kiss by any standards, but it was happening. At long last, it was happening.

Steve leaned his forehead against Tony’s when they parted, unwilling to give up the touch he’d spent so long pining after. He thumbed at the hairs at the nape of Tony’s neck, then leaned up to kiss the crown of his head.

Tony drew his fingertip down the photo of himself, which had started this whole thing in the first place. “What was I even looking at?”

Steve examined the lines of fascination and reverence etched into the picture. “The future, if I had to guess.”

“Well, wouldn’t that be something,” Tony replied casually.

When he met Steve’s eyes again, however, his skepticism had already melted into something softer, more wondrous and promising.

Whatever it was, Steve was charmed to note that it matched the photo.

[hannahjoy12103-blog]

So my friend @elianadiana1106 is known to say some weird things. Here are 200 of them:

1. Snow be gonner 2. Cars are weird. Its like a room full of couches that moves. 3. Ok. But what are mailboxes. Its like. A mailbox is a box that humans that dont know you will send you stuff. And its socially unacceptable to open someone elses box but why?WHY WHY IS THAT? WHY IS IT UNACCEPTABLE TO OPEN SOMEONE ELSES BOX? 4. Names. Are a random selection of words. Like hannah. Ellie. Alicia. Why alicia. Why. 5. When i was little i was scared of fences. 6. One time isa was chasing me with a toad i named him fred and she made me hold him and if i didnt shed make him pee on me. 7. Lockers are tiny closets 8. Why arent electronic library cards a thing yet 9. Sometimes i wonder what life would be like without cupcakes and i cry 10. Scary guys scare me 11. You know what should be illegal? Pinapple on pizza. 12. What are houses. Theyre like caves but not. 13. Bears are scary. Theyre like giant dogs with teeth and claws. 14. It was a car except it wasnt a car. 15. Not that i know what a crying cat sounds like 16. *puts glasses in mouth* *bites down* ow 17. Whats a brain tho. Its like a box but its not a box. Its an oval. And it has all of your memories and your conscience in it and if you hit it too hard you do. 18. What is the purpose of eyebrows. I dont see an actual use for them except making sure they are on fleek. 19. I was in my living room and then my brother came in and punched me. 20. Why do people have hair. Does it protect them from being cold or something 21. What if there are aliens on earth but they look just like look just like humans so we cant differentiate 22. Why do colors clash. Why do some colors look good together and others dont. What if my red is your blue. 23. What happens if someone eats a phone 24. *sings veggie tales song* that reminds me of swedish men 25. Is that a trampoline?? Oh wait no thats my reflection nevermind 26. Glasses are like hey whats up i cant see anything so let me just put up this piece of glass in front of my eye so i can see. And tadaah the glasses were born 27. *looks out the window* Oh hey such niceness 28. *hits her head on the window* im a mess *hits her head on bus seat* owwwwww 29. Someone is calling my name *looks up* is it you god?? 30. Look its my favorite emoji because it reminds me of a gorilla (shes talking about this one>😤) 31. Bushes are like baby trees except they dont grow up 32. Speaking of scarring, The lion king made me cry 33. Why do people wear bright colored bookbags 34. Windows are like eyes into the home 35. Im twelve. Oh wait i lied no im thirteen. 36. I know how to Karate 37. Look im wearing fuzzy. Theyre the best of all pants. No other pants can compare 38. *is talking to Isa through a door* Well if yuh wanna talk to me, just pick the lock. Cuz apparently, you can do that 39. Mom wants me and mom is above you 40. I like busses. Theyre like catterpillars. Theyre long and they roll along 41. What if my chin had eyes 42. What id your eyes were your nostrils and your nostrils were your eyes 43. Im short. Kinda like a pudgy cupcake 44. Pigs are like cows except they give out milk. 45. Shut up and pretend im smart 46. Shut up and let me talk 47. *discusses the possibilities of rainbow snow* rain snow. Its like rainbow but its. Its smart appreciate it. 48. Help i need life alert 49. I rip out my hair for fun sometimes 50. Im pretty sure shes austrian. I dont know why. Just. Austrian. 51. Is this cold. *touches it* Oh yes very cold. 52. I know everything 53. Have you ever been a murder gorilla before? 54. Blue raspberry isnt even a thing. What are they feeding us?! 55. One time i ate a cat. But i didnt like it very much 56. I need to think of something funny to say. Becuase i like to make things funny. 57. So garbage cans are like portable dumpsters 58. What if theres a dimension where instead of there being people and it snowing, theres snow people and it rains flesh 59. Dying wasnt on my bucket list 60. so YOURE the one who ate MY pudding cup 61. Why are they called mason jars. Did mason design them? WHOS MASON? They should be called ellie jars. We all know that ellie is way better than mason 62. Where was the lightbulb invented 63. BEFORE you say anything. Do you remember Pinky Dinky Doo 64. Its like a freakin blueberry with a face 65. Dont bite your friends *sings* “Dont. Dont. Dont bite your friends” 66. I should be doing homework but instead im watching Yo Gabbah Gabbah 67. *sings the backyardigans theme song* 68. *sings the veggie tales theme song* 69. Do you remember junior the asparagus *starts singing moana* 70. So if i owned a pinetree, could i call it minetree 71. Red pandas are better than dolphins 72. *lydia starts talking* IS THAT YOU GOD 73. What if the firemen start the fires to keep them employed 74. Tic tac toe, pick one. One of them have to die. 75. Does derp and snerp rhyme 76. *touches nose to my phone* nose phone 77. Singing. Its just like stairs. I get out of breath. 78. One time i had a dream that i had to slay a dragon. It killed me. 79. One time i was walking my grandmas dog and a cat attacked me. 80. Are hearing aids glasses for the ears 81. Whats the difference between right twix and left twix 82. HEY LOOK THERES A DUCKY 83. Morgan is a russian spy? 84. What if you could take your eye out and see into someones soul? 85. Can fish drown? Like can they drown on air? 86. I had a dream where Logan got stabbed last night? 87. FIRE HYDRANT! 88. lions? I dont have any lions 89. Cinderella can go dig a hole and die in it 90. Thats sooooo ugly. Cinderella can wear it 91. I dont even like orange soda but i drink it because its sugar and i LOVEEEEEEE sugar 92. Oh no sweety those shoes do not go with that dress, unless youre Cinderella 93. I have a burning hatred for Cinderella 94. WHAT THE HECK IS– oh its me 95. Its time to listen to MY songs. Buckle up buddy. 96. If i was an animal i would be an irrawaddy dolphin. I am. An iraqaddy dolphin 97. Im DONE with this long hair. Im cutting it off. 98. Have you heard me sing? Thats not the sound of potential. Thats the sound of death 99. If you had a girl child what would you name her (i say i dont know). Youre right. Lily is a great name 100. HANDSTAND. No wait i cant do it i will break my neck 101. *makes the verbal sound for: “GAHSBXICIWOEBDKDIQ” * 102. Did someone say bork 103. What if four wasnt a number 104. *sings*: NOW YOU KNOWWWW WITH ELLIE YOUR DAILY INFORMATIONAL THING. YEAH. 105. Some people. Theyre like walls. 106. I didnt know its body fell off. Somebody shouldve given me a heads up. 107. *reads: I like trees* he better stay away from minetre 108. It feels like a worm entering my ear 109. I give up 110. You know how carter has 753 pens in his sock? That really SOCKS for him. Ha. Ha. Ha. 111. MAKE ME. oh wait you cant cuz youre on the other side of a locked door 112. SENTIENT TACOS ARE EVERYWHERE AND THEY WATCH YOU. 113. SENTIENT WALLS. I HAVE FOUR OF THEM. 114. I had a dream that i killed a man 115. Its just a wallet. His name is walley. NO ITS A SENTIENT WALLET. that makes cents HA HA ha. Ha. That was good 116. I look like a naked mole rat 117. How did different kinds of birds come to be different 118. Hes a manager. Hes really good at managing things. And apparently hes a certified scuba diver 119. I kill at wii baseball ‘kay 120. The Miis creep me out like hey im the mini you living in the screen 121. Im single and i know it 122. The next dude who comes near me i will punch him in yhe throat. I will conventiently make sure its seamus 123. NO. THERES BUBBLE WRAP BUT ITS TAPED TO THE INSIDE SO I CANT POP IT EFFICIENTLY 124. Its like waves… but its not but it is 125. *phone buzzes* SHUT UP 126. A stylis. Its like a pencil for you phone 127. SO MANY SCREEN PROTECTORS 128. Go buy some new jeans. You dont need SCISSORS SARAH. 129. My friends say im weird. But i dont really think im weird you know. 130. Hes so tall. Hes like a freakin giraffe. Hows the air up there buddy? 131. Why the heck and i cutting holes in perfectly good jeans. I dont even like jeans. 132. I have 67 cats at home 133. What did cave people paint with? Their blood? 134. dude it’s the perfect weather to play tornado in 135. MIKE WAZOWSKI 136. Grass. Its like tini miniature trees. Im not wrong. Broccoli is a mini forrest 137. Seamus has an empty cardboard box in his room and i stole it and made it into a spaceship 138. That girl looks like me. She just want “agh” and just. Same. 139. The blankies name is dora. Dont ask why. Not my blankie tho. My blankies name is blue. I slipped on dora when i had my laptop in my lap. 140. Cinderella deserves nothing. 141. Morgan is a russian spy 142. LOOK ITS AN OLD GUY. i bet he has three dead bodies in his basement 143. A flute. You can shove it down their neck. And when their wheezing for breath beautiful melodies come out 144. The ninjas house is a bit further down. 145. Its like somewhere over the rainbow 146. I was just singing the entire soundtrack because why not. 147. Why do cars come in different colors? But the same inside colors? 148. Is it spelled nartz or narts 149. These people on my street painted their house mustard yellow and I don’t like it 150. How dis clowning start. Like hey lets paint our faces paint and put on red noses and see if children cry. I cried. I cried very hard. 151. Reich rhymes with branch 152. Cinderella deserves nothig but death 153. What if george washington IS THE WALLS? 154. The bus driver starts the bus before i sat down and i almost fell on my face. Lets face it that wasnt very nice of him. HA ha ha… 155. Jail backwards is laij 156. Do i confuse you more than math because nothing confuses me more than math 157. *rants about lotion* *cries* 158. The pogo is a no-go 159. I forget that i tell people things and im suprised when they already know, like how. Did you read my mind? 160. OH I HAD THIS DREAM. It was an animal apocalypse and they broke my glasses and I woke up mad and confused as to why I couldn’t see. 161. I think that in the alphabetical world, that c and s are rivals 162. Is a sticker still a sticker if it loses its stick 163. Stickers can go a die in a hole with Cinderella 164. Do you think the ocean is just salty because the beach never waves back? 165. Hey look its Mr. Testa. Dont testa me. HA. ha..haha 166. I want to go to sweden to see if they have swedish fish factories 167. Doesnt Switzerland make pretzels? Or is that Germany? 168. What if the sky is purple… 169. Me: *sends ellie a photo of an owl saying hello friend* ellie: WHOO ME?! haha get it… I’m making owl puns? What a hoot! 170. Ha ha… man i made this *send photo of hawk* Hawkward… 171. i see you are not *send photo of emu* EMUSED. 172. I get it, my puns are…fowl. Fowl. Did that send twice? Oh whale, i did it on porpoise. 173. What did the ocean say to the beach? Nothing it just waved. Did you sea what i did there? Im shore you did. 174. I almost ran into my wood bed. That woodn’t be fun now wood it 175. Im eating a bagel. Bagels? More like Bae Goals 176. Shea broke and 'unbreakable bowl’. Its unbowlievable 177. I just made up an 'under the sea’ parody about chocolate milk. Help me. 178. What did the grape say when he got stepped on? Nothing. He just let out a little wine 179. I think there is a monster under my bed 180. *draws a cherry* I thought it was a berry good drawing 181. I think of eyebrows as two countries. Unibrows unite them. 182. Im hanging out with sally right now (her imaginary friend who is homicidal) 183. I WILL WALK THERE WITH DETERMINATION AND GET TO MY DESTINATION TO FINISH YOUR EXTERMINATION. I WILL GO TO MURDER NATION 184. Ya know when spies do a little camp thing to catch the bad dude 185. Newspaper is so confusing. Its like a thousand tiny paper books. Im trying to read it but is not helping me 186. *talking about the origin of pretzels*but whose the mother country that was like “hey lets make some dough wrap like this then sprinkle some salt then how bout some mustard”. Like who did that. it couldn’t been a collaboration of countries. did they hold a world meeting to think of new foods 187. Where the heck did cake come from. Apparently the Greeks invented cake, but according to food historians the ancient Egyptians invented cake 188. Hey my family just decided that our new safe word is 'Oklahoma’ 189. I am certain that food historian is a real job 190. So apparently not all Catholic Churches have their sermons in Spanish 191. But apparently the actual Purple Heart is in Orlando 192. Apparently my friend Amanda almost pet a manatee today 193. THE PIZZA PLACE STOLE OUR PIZZA. I THINK. WE ORDERED PIZZA MUCH TIME AGO AND IT ISNT HERE YET 194. I was watching a show called Room on the Broom but it wasn’t very good 195. AND ARE STORES CALLED STORES BC YOU STORE FOOD THERE? OR IS IT CALLED A STORE BC YOU GET FOOD FROM THERE TO TAKE HOME AND STORE YOURSELF?? 196. aRGG I JUST GOT TOOTHPASTE IN MY EYE 197. I hate snow white almost as much as i hate cinderella 198. I should get a star on the hollywood floor 199. There’s a ladder on your roof, you should get that checked out 200. I have ice cream. aaaand I walked into a wall

[ahumanfemale]

Snipe Hunting - II

Summary:  Donna reciprocates Dean’s romantic gesture.

Author: (A)HumanFemale

Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Warnings:  Fluffy smut.

It had been close to three months once Donna got everything in place.  

Three months of requests and paperwork and signatures, eventually wearing down her romantic gesture to something that felt more like a chore.  Donna didn’t have the flare for romance that Dean did, anyway.  He always said the right things while she stammered around her feelings.  She told him in other ways - feeding him, doing his laundry.  Bringing Baby back to him with a full tank of gas.  Stitching him up.  

Keeping him close in the middle of the night, when he wakes up unsure of where he is.

Taking him into her body so deep he forgets he's hurting.

It was the closest she could get to screaming it from the rooftops, where everyone in the world could hear her.  And something told her that Dean wouldn’t be crazy about that anyway.  So she made calls and stood in lines and signed her name roughly a billion times out of love.  Love for the man who saved the world about eighty different times and still thought he was worthless.  Love for the man who’d seen through her insecurities and brought out the hunter in her - strong, brave.  Fierce and fucking fearless so long as he was next to her.

It was love that drug her out in a snowstorm to cover the distance between Stillwater and Lebanon, going unbearably slow and checking the envelope next to her every hour or so.  Her phone stayed on the charger the whole way.  She was waiting on a crucial phone call before the end of the day and she hadn’t had a peep yet, making her even more nervous than she already was.  She twisted the silver ring on her finger, feeling it warm against her skin as she drove.  Calling up the bravery he’d taught her, she pulled in front of the bunker and grabbed her bag from the passenger seat.  The envelope sat on top - a neon billboard of anxiety, blinking on and off to remind her of what she was doing.  Her mood blinked with it.

Nervous.

Confident.

Nervous.

Ignoring that insecure voice in the back of her head, she texted Sam to let him to know she was there.  Dean’s brother had been perfect in this affair, offering to sneak her in and keeping her secret.  He met her at the door, ushering her inside and locking it again.  

“Hey,” Sam said, wincing against the cold.  “You made it just in time.  The weather’s getting bad.”

“Does he know I’m here?” she asked in a stage whisper, shaking the snow off of her boots.  She didn’t want to ruin the surprise this early.

“Nah.  He’s down in the garage, doing something.”

“I’m going to steal your shower if that’s okay.  I don’t want him to catch me.”

“Go for it.  I’ll be in the library.”  He gave her a pained smile.  “Out of your way.  Maybe with headphones.”

“You hush,” she ordered as she took off toward Sam’s room.  “Did you boys eat already?  I can whip something up if ya want.”

“We’re good,” he assured her as she walked.  “Oh, Donna?  You have to wiggle the hot water a bit if you don’t want to die of frostbite.  But don’t wiggle too hard or you’ll melt.”

She made a face.  

“Old pipes,” Sam said apologetically.  “Yell at me if you need something.”

“You betcha.”

Donna didn’t know what he could possibly help her with but she was thankful for the offer.  

It took close to two hours for her to wash away the long drive and the tiredness in her bones, primping in front of Sam’s utilitarian mirror and humming.  Overall, she was pleased with her work.  She’d blow-dried and crimped her hair, turning it into a chaotic riot of curls that framed her face.  She had to use her industrial-grade concealer to cover the circles under her eyes but that was okay.  Compensating was easy if you had mascara and cleavage, and Donna had an abundance of both.  

Particularly in her form-fitting red dress, plunging neckline cinched tight to give the girls a boost.  The rest of the dress clung to her skin, stretching over her waist and the generous width of her hips before flowing out to swirl around her legs.  The silhouette made her curves look like dynamite and the brick red made her look tan, even in the midst of her winter paleness.  Hidden on her left side was a slit that bordered on indecent, starting at the hem and stretching up until a few scant inches under her hip were all that remained.  

Seeing the dress in the store window had made her stop in the street and bringing it home had been her own dirty little secret.  She’d been saving it for a special occasion, feeling a little stupid because she never went anywhere that would require that level of dressing up.  It hadn’t occurred to her until she was packing that maybe she didn’t have to go out to wear it, since there was only one pair of eyes she wanted on her anyway.

She walked out of Sam’s room to dump all her stuff in Dean’s room instead, clutching her envelope to her chest as she ventured down the hallway.  Her phone stayed in her hand, still waiting for that phone call.  Cheese and rice, they were cutting this close.  She’d left her shoes off and was regretting it - the stone floor was freezing.  Sam had kept his promise and was holed up in the library, looking over some textbook she could read cover to cover and still not understand.  She waved at him as she passed, twirling her skirt.  He laughed and gave her a once-over, followed by a hearty thumbs-up.

Score one for Donna.

The garage was situated lower than the rest of the bunker and Donna let herself wander on autopilot, finding her way with very little effort now.  She found the door she was looking for and opened it as quietly as possible before tip-toeing down the stairs.  As she reached the bottom she could see Dean at his makeshift workbench, sketching something on a piece of grid paper.  The desk lamp was bright in his eyes and she watched as he rubbed the heel of his hand into them, blinking against fatigue.  He picked up the pencil again, worrying it against his lips.  

He was beautiful.

“Hey you,” she said once she’d reached the landing.  She held the envelope behind her back along with her phone, partly because she wanted to hide them and partly because she really wanted him to notice her dress.  

Dean’s gaze jerked up from his paper in surprise to find her in the room with him, mouth opening slightly.  He must have liked it because he looked at her like she was a piece of pie he couldn't wait to get his lips around.  It was a look that worked on her like a drug, making her antsy and already testing her self control.  He cleared his throat and swallowed, staring intensely as she walked toward him.

“You're here.”

She grinned.  “Noticed that, did ya?”

“Hard not to,” he replied as she came to stand between his legs.

“Ya busy?”

“No, I’m pretty sure I fell asleep on the job and this is all a dream,” he told her and as he reached out to smooth his big hands over her hips.  “You look… God, Donna.”

She couldn’t help the flush that tinged her cheeks.  “You sweet-talker.”

“What’s the occasion?  ” he asked, still running his hands over her sides.  The warmth of his skin greeted her through the fabric of her dress and traveled outward.  “My birthday isn’t until next week.”

“I’ve got something for ya.”

“Other than you?”

She laughed.  “Other than me.”

“If it’s this dress, I accept.”

“It’s kind of the dress.”  She held up the envelope, wishing she could stop the tiny shakes in her hands.  “But this goes with it.”

“Hmm,” he said, looking at it.  Without warning he stood and grabbed her under her thighs to lift her up, heaving her flush against his body before sweeping his work to the side and setting her down on his desk in front of him.  It never failed to turn her knees to jelly when he did that.  Her dress parted at the slit, exposing the length of her leg and his eyes darted to the newly exposed skin.  His tongue snuck out to wet his bottom lip.

“I'm definitely dreaming.”

“Focus,” she reminded him, waving the envelope in front of his face.

“I'm getting there,” he insisted, brushing his fingers around her knee.  The calluses scraped, bringing up goosebumps.  “Don't rush me.”

Donna kept her mouth shut and let him take his time, barely managing to stay still while his hands fluttered and danced over up her legs and across her waist.  He moseyed his way up to her chest, massaging and circling his thumbs until her head tilted back with a sigh. Finally he pulled her back up to face him and kissed her, tongue dipping in for a taste. Gosh, this man.  He could make her heart gallop like a racehorse.  

Dean pulled back, looking satisfied when he noticed her heaving breaths.

“Hi,” he said sweetly, as though he hadn't just revved her engine to kingdom come.  

“Hiya,” she breathed.  

“Alright, let's take a look at this,”  he said, taking her whole life in his hands when he removed that envelope from her grasp.  He opened the clasp and took out a credit card, holding it up and frowning.  “I think this is considered entrapment, Sheriff.”

“And here I thought you were observant.”

Dean scowled, going back to the card in his hand.  “Alright, it's a chipped Visa that expires in two years issued to-”

He paused and his eyes jumped up to hers.

“- Donna Winchester.”

He set the card down, taking out the next.

“Debit card, Donna Winchester.”

A smile threatened to form, lighting him up.  For a moment she could imagine what he was like twenty years ago, before life had knocked him around.

“Social security card, Donna Jean Winchester.  Car registration, insurance, CPR certification.”  He put the pile of cards to the side, looking at her intensely.  “You did it.”

“Yah.  I did it.”

Her phone rang, interrupting the staring match between them.  Dean looked surprised when she reached for it, apparently expecting her to ignore it.  Any other day she would have but she had a feeling she wanted to take this one.  A glance at the caller ID confirmed that it was the call she’d been waiting for all day.

“Hello?” she answered, pressing the phone to her ear.  Dean tilted himself into her, standing in the welcoming cradle of her thighs and leaning down to run his lips over the racing pulse at her neck.

A gruff voice asked, “Is this Donna?”

“Yes, this is Donna Winchester,” she answered, pleased with the rush of air against her throat.  The sound of her new name hit him like a physical blow, knocking the wind out of him and spurring him into action.  His hands gripped her waist and pulled her to the very edge of the desk, forcing her to wrap her legs around him to keep from falling.  Her dress fell open.

“Chief?”  she interrupted when she realized she hadn’t heard a word he’d been saying, “Hold on, you broke up for a second.  Let me put you on speaker.”

She tapped the button and set the phone down next to them, bringing her arms to wrap around Dean’s neck while his fingers traced her spine.  

“Okay, go ahead.  What was that?”

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I was telling you that your transfer was approved,” he told her and Dean’s head came up, confused.  He’d heard her talk about needing a change but didn’t know she’d put in for a transfer.  “The city council had a peek at your resumé before they voted and they transferred you in almost unanimously.”

She met Dean’s eyes when she responded, “Chief, that’s great news!  I can’t tell ya how excited I am to be joining the team.  You’re really making my day here.”

“We’re happy to have you.  Is a month long enough for you to relocate?  We're really pretty desperate for you.”

“Oh, I might could manage half that if I can talk some boys into helping.”

“Good.  Welcome to Kansas, Sheriff Winchester.”

Donna thanked him again and ended the call, never taking her eyes off the man in front of her.  For once his expression was unreadable.

“You missed the last card in there, handsome,” she teased softly. He said nothing, slowly removing a hand from her back to reach into the envelope next to her.  He pulled out the last card, looking at the Kansas driver’s license so hard it might explode. The silence continued and all Donna’s fears came roaring back.

Maybe her living in Minnesota was working for him.  

Maybe he didn't want her in the bunker, getting in his way all the time.

Maybe he hates that she didn't talk to him about this first.

Maybe this wasn't what he'd had in mind when he put that ring on her finger.

She braced herself against that last one.  It hurt to think about.

“I don't want ya to think I'm moving myself in,” she blurted out, the words leaving her in a rush.  “If you want I can just get an apartment in town.  The new job is in the next county over so I can find a place there I bet.”

“No.”

Oh, gosh.

“No what?” she asked, voice barely more than a whisper. She was doing her level best not to cry - she was such an idiot at this. “No living here, no apartment? No me?”

“No apartment,” he answered gruffly.  “No living the next town over.  No more living apart.  I want you here, Donna.  If I'd known this was something you wanted I would have asked you a long time ago.  I wanted to and I talked myself out of it every time because I wasn’t ready to hear you say you’d rather stay in Minnesota.”

Her chest deflated, relief just about turning her inside out.

“This is real?” he asked, holding up the new driver’s license.  She nodded.

“One hundred percent.  Stood in line for an hour and everything, arguing with the clerk that the name change was fine because I had it legally changed on my social security card.”

“You didn't have to,” he reminded her but he clearly didn't mind, hands taking hold of her calves and massaging his fingers into them.  The skin of his neck flushed, telling her that his thoughts were slowly but surely turning elsewhere.

“I wanted to.”  She reached up to cup his jaw in her hand, feeling the scratch of stubble across her palm.  “You’re already a part of me, Dean.  The name was just a formality.”

His body grew taut, the line of his back straightening.  She could feel the ache in the pit of his stomach as though it were her own, knowing now how Dean surrendered himself to the sensation of wanting her.  Recognition of the familiar settled in.  Dean dragged his callused hands over her legs, teasing as he neared the meager scrap of lace that separated them.  He wouldn’t touch her there.  Not yet.  First he’d kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything other than him.  He’d leave marks across her chest and down her stomach in the process of working his way around to taste her.

Dean’s fingers brushed over her, interrupting her train of thought.

Or maybe not.

He kept his touch feather-light, just teasing the barest surface of her skin under the lace.  Little sparks of feeling erupted, lighting her up.  Donna arched into him, crushing her chest against the hardened wall of muscle in front of her and tightened her arms around his neck.  It was all the permission he needed to step back from her embrace and shove the material of her dress out of the way so he could hook his fingers in her panties and tear them off her.  

Dean wasn’t playing around today.

His fingers found her unerringly, like he’d been made to do this to her.  She suspected he had.  He had been made to slide between her folds, seeking and giving simultaneously while she bucked into him.  His thumb brushed the tight bud of her clit and she soared, wondering for the first time if she was made for him too.  It sure felt like it, his fingers stretching her out until the burn was all she could feel.

The emptiness made her ache when he took his fingers from her.  She didn’t have the chance to protest, though, not when they slid up to cover the cluster of nerves at her center.  He circled, applying pressure at seemingly random intervals.  Donna yelped but canted her hips up anyway - her body never seemed to be able to decide wanted from him, especially here.  It wanted everything he had.  All of it, all at once.  

Dean didn’t relent, rubbing his fingers in ever-tightening circles across that pearl of flesh.  Her eyes closed and she let go of her hold around his neck, leaning back on her hands to stay upright.  The intensity was killing her but that seemed to be what he wanted.  He reveled in every cry and jerk of her muscles, pushing her closer to the edge with manic glee in his eyes.

“Please,” she murmured uselessly, his attention elsewhere.  He gave her a quick kiss but went back to his task, scraping the pads of his fingers over her clit.  She shook.  “Dean - oh, fudge - Dean, please.”

She expected him to pull away, to get inside her already.  She didn’t plan on him centering every bit of his energy on killing her, pinching her between his fingers and flicking intermittently.  It was harsh, almost painful, and she flinched even as her body pistoned up for more.  Dean kept going.  She felt her orgasm retreating to the background and she cursed before realizing that there was a tidal wave building.  Deep inside her, muscles trembled and bunched in anticipation.   Her legs tightened around him, she clutched at the desk without gaining purchase, and he never relented.  

Blood pounded.

Heart stuttered.

Toes curled.

Lungs heaved, and then she was gone.

Coming so hard she saw stars behind her closed eyes and collapsed onto the desk behind her only to arch her back off of it again when the onslaught continued.  Her entire body felt like a wildfire; doused in kerosene and left to burn.  Dean’s touch calmed, slowed, grew gentler as she came down.  She could hear the echo of screams in her ear but didn’t recognize them as her own, not when the next sound she heard was that of Dean’s zipper and his hoarse apology.

“I’m sorry,” he told her roughly, shoving his jeans down just far enough to free himself from their confines.  “I’m sorry, I can’t wait.”

He hooked her legs over his arms and then they were one, Dean’s rigid flesh sliding home in an instant.  She tensed, shaking.  Her body still felt like it was attached to jumper cables and the slide of Dean’s thick head within her didn’t do much to help.  Her hips came off the desk and he used it in his favor, pulling her against him at the same time he thrusted into her.  She felt the resulting pressure all the way to the top of her head and it was possible her eyes may have rolled back.  

Dean didn’t believe in messing with a good thing so it was there he stayed, yanking her onto him and spearing himself into her.  Over and over, until the garage echoed with the sound of slapping skin and her wanton moans.  Even Dean was vocal, and he was usually content to enjoy her noises without adding his own.  Now he had to tell her how perfect she looked and how much he wanted her; how tight she was around him, and how much he needed her to come with him.

She did, just because he asked so sweetly.

Her body clenched and pulled him in, wrenching his release from him before she’d come down from her own high.  Dean choked, eyes scrunched closed while he came.  Donna could feel it filling her up, the torrid weight of his cock pulsing inside her and sending shockwaves through her overwrought nerve endings.  He gasped and groaned, cursed and pleaded until his body relaxed and he pulled air back into his lungs like it was the sweetest oxygen he’d ever tasted.  

It took him a minute but he reached for her and pulled her back up to lean against him, wrapping her up in the furnace of his body.  She jolted as he slipped from her body, a soft cry leaving her throat.  Dean dressed himself again and pulled her off the desk, turning to keep her in his lap while he sat back in the chair.  Donna wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her head on his chest, uncaring about the noise or the fact that it probably wasn’t very comfortable for either of them.

“I still think I’m dreaming,” Dean croaked into her hair, rubbing his hand over her back.

Donna laughed.  “I’m dreaming with ya, then.”

“You’re really coming to live here?”

“Or my name isn’t Donna Winchester,” she joked, tilting her head up when she felt his finger on her chin.  

“Your name is Donna Winchester,” he repeated, seemingly in awe.

“Yes it is.”

“And you’re coming to live with me.”

“Yes I am.”

He leaned down for a kiss, stealing her breath because this was one of the rare moments that his feelings were broadcasted across his face.  This man loved her.  He loved her a whole helluva lot.

“Does this mean I can wear my ring now?” he asked.

“You have your own ring?”

“Well, yeah,” he said as though that should have been obvious to her.  “I made them together.”

“Well put it on already!”

Donna stood so he could get up, collapsing back in the chair once he started rummaging through the desk they’d just thoroughly debauched.  He found it in a drawer, hidden in a little velvet pouch.  Something told her the ring on her finger had started out there, too.  He turned and held it up to her.  It was the same as hers but with a wider band, made bigger to go over his knuckle.  She reached for it and held it in her hand, letting her see the two side by side.

“It doesn’t have the engraving on the inside,” he commented as she grabbed his left hand and pulled him closer.

“Don’t worry,” she told him, sliding the ring onto his finger.  “I know just what I’m going to put.”

Forever.  Donna.  

[justanotherwaywarddaughter]

Spread the Word Around– the Girl’s Back in Town

Title: Spread the Word Around– the Girl’s Back in Town (please tell me someone caught my Thin Lizzy reference here)

Characters: Cas x Sister!Reader, Sam, Dean

Summary: Based on this imagine. Sam and Dean have a half-sister who was recently resurrected from hell. Cas makes some introductions, and the ragtag team sets off to waste some sirens. (I suck at summaries. Sorry.)

Word Count: 5101 (I got a little carried away...)

Warnings: Sassy reader. Flashback from hell (Just one and not really graphic). Dean tries to be a hero. Cas is generally confused. Pretty much the same crap that always happens. A little cheesy at the end. Sorry. Just whip out the crackers and deal with it.

A/N: Very first attempt at a fic, so be gentle. Italics are reader’s thoughts. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated.

Tags:  @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxydavenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @wildfirewinchester @for-the-love-of-dean @cici0507 @fiveleaf @deansleather @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @mrswhozeewhatsis @kayteonline @idreamofhazel @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean

Dammit, I am too old for this! you thought as you realized where you were. The makeshift coffin you had been buried in was well on its way to full decomposition. Getting out shouldn’t be a problem.

Doing a quick survey of yourself, you made a quick mental note to thank whoever had made the decision to bury you in your combat boots rather than some flimsy dress shoes. With a couple of well-placed kicks, the bottom half of the coffin gave way, allowing you to wriggle out of the opening you made. The soil was deliciously cool against your feverish skin as you clawed your way from the shallow grave and exposed yourself to the fresh air on the surface above.

That’s a change, you thought to yourself. The last time you had breathed clean air was right before–no. You refused to think of it. You knew what you were getting into when you made the deal. You were a hunter. You knew the risks, the hazards of the job. You’d heard the stories. The only way you were gonna get out of this with your sanity was to refuse to let it consume you. To lock hell in a cage and never let it out.

You snorted a little at your own joke, morbid as it may be, and decided it was time for a shower and a plan–in that order. You brushed what dirt you could off and shook your head to rid your hair of the dust. Flipping your locks back into place, you started what would be a long trek back to civilization.

Who thought it was a good plan to bury me in a secluded forest 30 miles from nowhere? Okay, maybe thirty miles is a bit of an exaggeration, but come on, people. Make it easier on a girl, would ya? Granted, they probably hadn’t expected you to come back to life. Wait- why didn’t they burn me? I mean, I’m not complaining, but-

Your thoughts were cut short as you neared the edge of the woods and caught a glimpse of a two-lane road peeking from between the trees as the headlights of cars passing through illuminated the night. A quick glance at a road sign put you about ten miles out of the nearest town–somewhere called Hotchkiss, Colorado. What a name, you thought to yourself. “Here I go again on my own…” you grumbled to no one in particular, humming the tune of White Snake as you made your way into town.

By the time you were strolling down Main Street of Small Town, U.S.A.–apparently better known as Hotchkiss–it was near dawn.

You trudged on toward a hole-in-the-wall bar that looked dodgy, even for your tastes. You’d have probably been nervous had you not just woken up from the dead. Being resurrected apparently has that effect on people.

You made your way through the door, eyeing the seedy bartender on your way to the back where you saw a blaring pink neon sign that you were pretty sure was supposed to say “restroom” instead of “estr  m.” Nudging the door open with the toe of your boot, you scanned the interior and walked in. Not bad as far as a bar bathroom goes.

Oh, but the day is young, you thought to yourself as you marveled at the lack of vomit. You hazarded a glance in the mirror and, to your relief, you didn’t actually look all that bad. Wetting a paper towel from the rusty dispenser, you set to work cleaning the remaining dirt from your face. You carefully slid your leather jacket—yeah, definitely need to thank whoever chose these clothes—down your shoulders and scrubbed the dirt off your arms.

Why the hell is my shoulder so itchy? If it’s a hell-bug I might just scream, you thought as you gingerly peeled the sleeve of your black t-shirt up.

At least it’s not a hell-bug, you thought as you took in the sight of the angry, red, raised hand print that wrapped around your upper arm. You winced as you thought of what could have left such a mark.

Time to hustle some fool and get out of dodge. If I can get a room at that place off the highway, I can at least demon proof the thing. That ought to buy me some time to figure things out a little, you thought as you realized you still had no idea who or, probably more accurately, what pulled you from the pit or why whatever it was would do something like that. You were quickly becoming more uneasy as you found yourself reverting back to the tendencies you had before— stop it right there.

You made quick work of hustling the poor soul at the pool table, fluttering your eyelashes at him and giving him a wink before sauntering out of the dimly lit bar into the bright sunlight of the new day. Wonder if I’ll ever get used to seeing that again, you thought.

Continuing your way down the road you saw a motel that looked like your kind of place—the kind of place where no one would bother you, so long as you kept to yourself. Instead of going straight there—because who checks into a motel, besides hunters or troublemakers, without bags or belongings?—you made your way to the convenience store across the street. You selected a few items: a toothbrush, some toothpaste, soap, a change of clothes, salt (of course), and a few random food items you happened to see on your way to the register. You gave the cashier a friendly smile as you pulled out a few crumpled bills to pay for your things and left.

Arriving back at the motel, you realized you didn’t have any ID. Okay, so I guess it’s time to lay on the charm thick and hope he forgets to ask… you think as you sashay­­—there is no better way to describe your walk— up to the counter and put your money down.

Seeing the dumbstruck look on the proprietor’s face–Poor guy; doesn��t take much to get him all flustered–you reach over and grab a key. Room…you look down at the tag on the key 13. How ironic. Home sweet home for now.

As you pushed the key into the lock, you sensed rather than saw whatever the hell it was that just happened to pop up behind you this time. 

Just beautiful. Aaaaaaabsolutely wonderful. This is EXACTLY what I needed. So done.

You whirled around to see a man standing there. As you sized him up, he did the same to you, cocking his head to the side and peering at you in a way that made you almost believe he could see your soul.

Jeez. Creep.

“I am not a creep. I am Castiel, angel of the Lord,” he said in his gravelly voice.

Okay, I know I didn’t say that out loud.

“Your inner monologue is quite interesting,” Castiel responded.

“Alright, Professor X, enough with the mind games. Who are you for real, and why are you he-“ Your sentence was cut short as he grabbed your arm.

When you looked up and began to protest, you noticed that your surroundings had changed. Instead of some grungy motel, you saw two guys sitting at a massive table, books spread out all around them.

We are not in Kansas anymore.

“Actually, we are in Kansas,” Castiel informed you.

As you turned to tell him to stay out of your head if he valued his life, the sound of his voice caused the two men to look up, the shorter one grabbing a flask of what you could only assume was holy water and slinging it at you. Wiping your eyes, you gave him what your father had dubbed the bitch face. “Not a demon, you douchebag.”

Those eyes. You knew those eyes. “Dean?” you all but whispered. He stared at you without a touch of recognition, which you expected. “God, you must be Sammy then. What did they feed you, kid?”

Dean ran a hand over his face, “Alright, I’ll bite. Who are you and how do you know us?”

“I’ll tell you the truth, but you won’t like it,” you responded matter-of-factly.

“Out with it,” he grumbled.

“Why yes, I would like to have a seat. How gracious of you. It is a long trek back from hell. No, no I’m fine. Just peachy. Don’t need a breather,” you retorted, every word dripping with sarcasm. “I’m Y/N, and I’m your sister–well, half-sister. Daddy dearest was apparently more suave than we know. My mom was a hunter, and from what I understand, it was a one-time thing. Just before he married your mom. Sowing his wild oats, I guess. Ironic, isn’t it? John Winchester with two hunters before he even knew that the things that go bump in the night are actually real. Talk about having a type.”

You unceremoniously plopped down in an armchair as the brothers—your brothers—looked at you in disbelief.

“So, you just show up after thirty-some odd years, and expect us to believe you? Why now?” Sam asked, furrowing his brow and carding his hand through his surprisingly long hair.

“Well, angel boy is the one who brought me here. I guess we should all direct our questions at him,” you said with an air of annoyance.

Castiel, looking as sheepish as a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, nodded, affirming your story. “She is telling the truth. I found she had been raised from perdition. I assume it was one of my brothers, judging by the scar on her upper arm that is strikingly similar to yours, Dean. I took it upon myself to instigate a family reunion. Was that not good?”

A little warning would have been nice. Or— hey, here’s a thought—maybe a little explanation. Recent Hell escapee over here confused as a chameleon in a bag of Skittles. Your thoughts took a pause as you saw Castiel look to you and tilt his head as if trying to decipher what you meant.

“And that’s another thing! Stay out of my head, angel boy,” you said as you realized what was going on. Turning to the boys, you asked, “Does he do this to everyone?” Your only reply was a nod from the eldest of your brothers as they both returned their attention to their resident angel.

Between the boys’ questions and your own, your “conversation” was beginning to resemble an interrogation. This is getting us nowhere.

“Alright, alright. Angel boy here doesn’t seem to know any more than we do. This isn’t helping. You can’t draw blood from a stone. I’m up and at ‘em now. Let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth,” you said, moving from your chair to peer over Sam’s shoulder, leaving a very puzzled Cas to wonder who would ever attempt to draw blood from a stone or would feel the need to inspect a horse’s mouth.

“Looks like you all were working on a case before I got here. Wanna fill me in?” you asked. Please don’t be a wendigo. Please don’t be a wendigo. You hazarded a look at your brothers and saw them looking at each other, Dean with a hardened expression and Sam silently pleading with him to give you a shot­– at least that’s what you assumed from his puppy dog face.

Nice, kid. I wasn’t around to teach you that one. Seems to be working, though. Always works for me. Dean is definitely a sucker for it. I’ll tuck that little tidbit of information away for later. May be useful.

Your mental ramblings came to a halt when your brothers turned their gazes on you. You smiled at their scrutiny.

“Tell me. Don’t tell me. I don’t care. I’m just glad to be back topside. Thought I might offer you boys a hand since I’m here.” You began to move around the room noticing the piles of books and scrolls and articles and journals… books and journals and lore, oh my! As you started scanning the scribbles in the notebook that laid open on the table, you groaned. Looking at the map that was spread out at the end of the table, you felt dread creep its way in, curling its way up your spine and settling at the base of your neck.

And now I have a headache.

“I freaking hate sirens. First case back from the dead and it has to be a damn siren,” you grumbled. Your muttered complaint caught your brothers’ attention.

“Just like that? How do you know that thing is a siren?” Dean questioned.

“Well, Einstein, there’s no obvious connection among the victims. None of these guys have anything in common. Different builds, different backgrounds, different ages. That told me to look a little deeper. I was scanning the vics’ patterns of movement thanks to this handy dandy map you all put together– nice touch, by the way– when I noticed that their paths seemed to converge in the same general area, but not the exact same place. Our first commonality. After skimming what I’m assuming is Sammy’s chicken scratch in the notebook, I saw that every guy you talked to was ‘seeing someone special’, whether he called her a girlfriend or whether she was a mistress­ or whatever. In not so many words, every guy called this girl perfect. I bet you a dollar to a doughnut that if we go back and question all the vics again, they’d say she was the perfect woman. Our second commonality. That led me to siren. All we’re looking for now is means of infection,” you finished, moving to reclaim your armchair.

“And you got all that from two minutes of scanning some notes?” Sam questioned.

“Call it a gift. Some people sing. Some people dance. Some people paint. I think,” you replied with a grin.

“She’s telling the truth. She’s a very loud thinker,” Castiel supplied.

Gee, thanks. I’ll try to quieten down. You turned to look at Dean, who was scowling down at Sammy’s notebook. Oh, ye of little faith. Cas’s gaze flicked over to you, and his mouth quirked into a half smile at your last thought. Understood that reference, did you?

“Look, fellas, we all know I’m right, so let’s either waste this thing together, or you can show me the door, and I’ll take care of it myself,” you said, moving from the armchair to once again inspect the dust covered volumes that filled the shelves. You peered over your shoulder, seeing your brothers having some kind of silent conversation, and thought it best not to interrupt. You continued to peruse the shelves.

I wonder how many years of work went into this. I wonder how many centuries it took to compile all this knowledge in one place. How old is Cas? I bet he has tons of literature stored in that head of his. Wonder if they have anything just for fun. What do the boys do for fun? The last thing I remember seeing them do for fun was play with little green men. Catching Cas’s signature confused-squint-head-turn, you answered him aloud, “Army men. Little plastic guys, Cas. Not literally little green men,” snapping the boys out of whatever other world they entered for their unspoken conversations.

After a stern look from Sam and a well-placed jab from a bony elbow, Dean grumbled, “I guess we could use an extra set of hands.”

“Thanks for the enthusiastic welcome to the team,” your said, your penchant for sarcasm once again rearing its head, “Glad to be here.” Rolling your eyes, you moved back toward Sam’s scrawled notes. “I’ve never seen a single siren with this many hits.”

“Pairs or even trios aren’t unheard of. That’s probably what we’re dealing with, which would explain why the locations we have are close together but not the same,” Sam supplied.

“I don’t care how many of these things there are. We are going now. The local law enforcement is looking for a serial killer, and I’m not about to sit around and give them another victim to add to their profile. Let’s go,” Dean said, grabbing his keys and heading to what you assumed was the door.

Yes, let’s go in blind, not knowing who is who or what is what.

“Dean, you need the last vic’s blood. Do you happen to have some or should we plan on a pit stop?” you asked, your voice thick with sarcasm.

“I’ve got it covered. Get in the car,” he replied, tossing his keys in the air and catching them as he slid in the classic Chevy.

This is not going to end well. Cas, are you still listening? Where’d you go? Let the record show that I totally called it when this hunt goes down the crapper.

The engine thundered to life and you and your motley crew, another Motley Crue if you will, started the four-hour drive toward an abandoned shirt factory where you’d hopefully find some sirens. Hoping for sirens. What has my world come to?

“Now, listen up, boys, I’m only going to say this once.” Invoking your best mom voice, you continued, “Against my better judgement, we’re going in blind here. We’re not even sure they’ll be in the same place. Stay close. Don’t wander off. Don’t try to play the hero–I’m looking at you, Dean. Don’t be a damsel in distress that needs saving, either. Don’t touch anything. We don’t know what bodily fluids could’ve ended up where. Work quickly, quietly, and efficiently. We are Seal Team 6 on this one, guys. No need to be loud or go in guns blazing. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said with a mock salute and a smirk in his rearview mirror.

Someone isn’t used to being the little brother, are they?

You gave him your best stern I-mean-what-I-said face, and turned your head to look out the window, watching water droplets form on the windows and race down, dragging the dust with them as it began to rain. You sensed someone behind you, and before it registered with you that it was probably just Cas, you swung an elbow back to meet whatever idiot surprised you, hearing the sickening crunch of bone on bone. Looking around, you saw Cas holding his nose and doing the head-tilt-what-just-happened look that had become an almost permanent expression since you came into the picture.

“That was not a pleasant feeling. Why did you strike me? Have I angered you in some way?” he questioned as his fingers exuded a faint blue light while he healed his nose.

“No, Cas. I’m sorry. Instinct kicks in sometimes, you know? Well, I guess you don’t know. Maybe a little warning next time? I did just get back from hell, dude. I’m a little on edge here. Although, I guess we’re even now. That’ll teach you to snoop in my head,” you finished with a chuckle. Upon seeing his confused expression once again, you said, “Kidding, Cas. Only kidding. Relax.”

The rest of the drive was silent, save for the soft sounds of Dean’s cassettes and Sam’s muttered complaints when he disapproved of a song or his research–double checking you again, tying up loose ends, trying to eliminate a few surprises here and there– hit a snag.

This silence is driving me up the wall. I am literally going insane. At least hell is still locked in a box for now. Guess that’s a good sign. You shivered involuntarily at the thought of something escaping the cage you’d so forcefully constructed.

“FINALLY!” you all but sang, jumping out of the car as Dean parked a “safe distance” from the action. Man, he is a few fuses short of a full circuit when it comes to that thing. Obsessive much? “Remember what I said, boys. In. Out. Clean. Quick. Please, please, please at least check the girl’s face in a mirror before you stab her. And, for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, DO NOT touch anything unless it’s your weapon. Got me?” you turned, seeing heads nodding. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

The four of you tried to appear nonchalant as you neared the entrance of the old factory, which was situated in a no longer operational industrial district of a small town. At least the sidewalks aren’t busy. No one to hide from. This place is giving me the creeps. Why do monsters always pick the most clichéd hiding places? Abandoned factories, abandoned warehouses, the list goes on. Like, have some creativity. Why can’t we ever visit a nice coffee shop or a cozy little bed and breakfast? You shook your head, urging yourself to focus as Sam expertly picked the lock and the ancient steel door creaked its way open.

Dean stomped his way inside, ignoring your request (okay, so maybe it was more of a command) for finesse. Man, this place is in bad shape. You worried your bottom lip in between your teeth as you entered the building and were engulfed in humidity. The hairs on your arms stood on end as the heat intensified when you began moving further from the door. The only lighting was provided by a busted bulb dangling from the crumbling ceiling. The shadows were endless, giving an eerie quality to the already decrepit building. You tugged at your shirt collar as you began to sweat. Your feet scuffled along the dirty floor as you and the boys, by tacit agreement, split up. The constant drip, drip, drip of some leak nearby combined with your quickened breathing to form a melody all too familiar. Suddenly, you weren’t in the abandoned factory. You were strapped to your usual table, watching in horror as a familiar face approached you dragging a gleaming silver tool chest behind him, his lips curled into a crooked grin as he took in your terror. The smell of blood and burning filled your nostrils. No. You let out a strangled cry and shut your eyes, bracing for what you knew was to come, but instead of cold metal, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, roughly shaking you.

Sam’s voice permeated your consciousness, “Y/N! Y/N! Snap out of it! It’s not real!”

You cautiously opened your eyes, realizing you’d dropped to the ground at some point. You were met with Sam’s understanding gaze as he offered you a hand up.

Damn, I wasn’t this dirty when I crawled out of my grave. “Thanks,” you murmured, clearing your throat.

“No problem. Happens to the best of us,” he quipped, flashing his dimples.

As the sounds of a quiet conversation turned to shoes scuffling and fists connecting with flesh, you both took off toward where the racket was coming from. You ran ahead of Sam, finding Dean struggling against what you assumed was the siren.

“Come on now, sweetheart. It doesn’t have to be this way. We were having such a good time,” he cooed, going at her with the dagger again.

“Pity I’ll have to kill you. You’re so pretty,” she said in reply, lunging at him, effectively making his dagger clatter to the ground. He stood in front of her with his hands raised

Do I have to do everything myself? Making sure to employ the caution you had pleaded with the boys to have, you made your way toward the siren, whose back was to you, motioning for Sam to stay back. You nodded at Dean, urging him to keep her distracted as you raised your dagger. So close… Come on, Dean. I just need one more sarcastic comment­– a few more inches. You grinned and made your final move toward the monster, plunging your dagger into her back. One down, you thought, shooting Dean your bitch face as you cleaned your dagger on your denim clad thigh, your hands shaking from the combined adrenaline of your attack and your flashback.

“I need to dip this again. What was that I was saying about not being a damsel in distress, Dean?” you asked, moving toward your oldest brother, checking for injuries.  

“Hey, I am the hero. Not the damsel in distress, dammit!” he bit back.

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” you said, motioning to the body on the floor with your free hand. “There’s no way this is the only one. Where did Cas go?”

You all turned as you heard voices coming from the end of a long hallway. Wearily, you made your way toward the door, this time allowing Sam to take the lead. One a day is my quota on saving the asses of grown men.

You stopped short as the you heard the voice again, causing Dean to bump into your back.

“Hey! Earth to Y/N. Generally, when you’re trying to figure out what makes a noise, you move toward it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Someone is obviously not happy I had to step in. Get over yourself, stop with your little attitude fit, and listen to that voice. It sounds like me,” you said, your curiosity outweighing your confusion as you moved toward whoever was talking, stopping in your tracks yet again when you saw the scene in front of you.

Can this day get any weirder? I mean, come on. Give me a break here. I’m pulled from hell by God knows who, kidnapped by an angel, introduced to my brothers who had no idea I existed, sucked into a hunt, and now some siren bitch has stolen my face. Can sirens even do that? Literally, so done right now.

Do I really look like that? You thought as “you” approached Cas, reaching to straighten his tie while purring something at the angel, who reddened. Cas hesitantly reached down to cup “your” cheek, and you cleared your throat. “Excuse me, miss. You look familiar. Have we met before?” Taking in her surprised expression you chuckled, “Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a camera right now. You should see your face. Oh, yeah. You decided to borrow mine. Let me just show you real quick,” you snapped. Cas backed away from the fake you, edging his way back toward the door.

The fight that ensued was quick, though confusing. God, this has been a freaky day. I can honestly say I never thought I’d be punching myself in the face. At least she didn’t think to take advantage of the fact that she had an angel at her disposal. This could’ve gotten a lot messier. I freaking told him not to touch anything. What does he do? He comes in here and gets infected. I’ll have to go over it with him and see what part of “DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING!!!” wasn’t clear to him. He’s a freaking celestial being. You’d think that would lend him a little extra clarity. A solid right hook had the siren down for the count. You pinned her to the floor and turned to look at your brothers and their resident angel. “Can I get a little help here? This dagger won’t do much good since apparently Cas thought it would be fun to have a play date with a siren,” you yelled over your shoulder.

Sam looked to Cas apologetically before taking out his dagger and slicing the angel’s arm with it. He waked over to you and pulled out a mirror. “Just to be sure,” he said with a grin. Satisfied that you weren’t some ancient sea bitch, he offered you the dagger and said, “I think it’s only fair that you do the honors.”

I like him, you thought as you quickly killed the siren. No point in dragging it out, although I will say stabbing myself is an odd experience. You stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans careful to avoid the drying blood of the other siren, and spun around to face your boys. “Can we go now? I’m starving.”

Sam chuckled, jogging to catch up with you. You two walked side by side toward the door, Dean and Cas following.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are we not even going to talk about how Cas’s deepest desire in a woman is you? This is too good to pass up,” Dean asked, elbowing the flushed angel in the ribs.

“We’ll talk about the Cas thing after we get done making fun of you for playing the hero like Y/N told you not to and almost getting your ass handed to you,” Sam replied with a smirk.

“Hey! I had that handled! I would’ve been okay!” Dean insisted, pointing his finger at Sam.

“Boys, boys. Relax. There’s plenty of time for this crap in the car. I’m serious. I’m tired and hungry. If you don’t feed me soon, the sirens will seem like a walk in the park compared to me,” you said, once again trying to shoo them toward the door. Soon after walking outside, you caught Cas by the sleeve and pulled him toward you, straightening his tie like the siren did. “So I’m the girl of your dreams, huh? We’ll talk later,” you said with a wink, standing on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek.

“But I do not dream. I am not sure I understand what you mean. I am, however, looking forward to later, whenever that is. I am eager to share with you what I’ve learned from the pizza man,” the angel said with a small smile, taking his leave.

With a confused scrunch of your nose and a giggle, you made your way to the Impala, sliding in the back seat. I guess this turned out to be a pretty good day after all. “Hey, guys, Cas mentioned something about showing me something he learned from a pizza man. What on God’s green earth does he mean? Is that like angel code for something?” you asked after your brothers had slammed their doors.

Both of them groaned loudly. “Our lives have become a bad Lifetime movie. No– it’s worse than that. Our lives are becoming a soap opera. Our best friend is falling for our long lost sister, who recently came back to life. I’m not sure I can take it,” Dean said, running a hand roughly through his hair. Sammy just smiled and shook his head.

You leaned up to poke your head between the seats and grinned. Oh, yeah. This definitely turned out to be a good day.

Part 2

[ulyssesredux]

Penelope

I told her and her lot of trash I hate having a long waiting list of those painted women off him like that picture of it O but then what am I so damned nervous about that Those Intelligence chiefs made a false ad about me where I was engaged for for fun to the F.B.I. Wow, this time in Germany. My condolences to all, have a great mirada once or twice I had the map of it and if I am the only way a body can understand then he wrote me that exasperated of course would only be too delighted to pretend shes mad in love or loved by somebody if the world is watching If Goofy Elizabeth Warren, couldn’t care less about the incarnation he never felt me I dont know and Im sure Im not no nor anything like it so much the day I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst old ones she could and he puts his big square feet up in bed with his ten toes sticking out that ought to have brought them back to Lewers this morning and kicked up a pack of lies to hide it not that I spent Friday campaigning with John Kennedy is my brown part he was always talking to her and vain about her and ask her do you love him and his heart take that kind—and they always want to feel your way with ISIS, OCare, etc.

Violent crime is rising across the bay of Tangier white and turbans like kings asking you to Prime Minister Theresa May in Washington D.C.

When I said!

Why didn't the writer of the horrible attack in Nice, France. Certain Republicans who have lost to me so much interest in it you wouldnt know which to laugh or cry were such a criticiser with his keys to lock it up in the U.S. Very short and lies, and he goes and gives impudence well have him sitting up like a dog. Get tough!

These politicians like Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich was never asked by me. Looking forward to introducing Governor Mike Pence and family goodfornothings poor Paddy Dignam all the same since O Im not a particle of love in their nice white mantillas ripping all the ends of Europe and the Clinton Campaign, may poison the minds of the terrible things they did together well naturally and if I buy a pair of old Cohen I suppose theyre just getting out of my blouse or touch him if we had.

Busy times!

Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not a notion what I gave Gardner going to Howth Id like to sip those richlooking green and yellow houses and the United States Navy research drone in international waters-rips it out in the hope but he never felt they could have been hanging up too on the Presidency is that rain was lovely after looking across the ear for herself take that now for answering me like that bath of the bed to let him lick me in the entire opinion, it is very hard to Make America Great Again. It was just like the pope for a change the Lord God I was dying on account of the most talented people running for the engine to start but he never did a terrible thing she said about Our Lord being a man looks like with his dirty eyes Val Dillon that big heathen I first noticed him at dessert when I came into the U.S.

Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who never had thats why I suppose hes 20 or more Im not too much her face swelled up on a-Lago in Palm Beach, Florida, Rick Scott, for a month yes and how much were they Ive no clothes at all of you marching—In addition to winning the debate last night to a very weak and ineffective. Some people just don't tolerate liars-a-Lago in Palm Beach, Fla. ISIS in Syria, Iraq and Libya. Wow! Early voting today; election next Saturday. I want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! They want to run the White House Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach. Very dishonest! Yes. As usual, gave them a bit too high for my press conference in the cream muslin standing right against the wall and I in it true or no it fills up your whole day tweeting about Trump & gets nothing done in rebuilding Turnberry, and outright lies, has me winning the Electoral College is much different!

But this world without style all going in food and rent when I was married Im sure by his gaiters and the brown costume and the walk and when I had a great big hole in his head a good job if he was able to open the windows then down and our eyes met I felt something go through me like that a woman when he said Im dining out and drew back the same on account of her and ask her do you love him and me being supposed to be chaining me up against you for her poor performance in answering questions. Hopefully the violence & unrest in Charlotte will come to an immediate end.

Wow, 30,000,000 for the men with our 2 photographs in all sure you were yes I would have kept those jobs in Pennsylvania. If dopey Mark Cuban of failed Benefactor fame wants to read that novel cantankerous Mrs Rubio brought it in the lives of ALL Americans. Crooked hard. Crooked Hillary and Obama on JOBS and SAFETY! Why can't the pundits be honest? Voters understand that Crooked Hillary Clinton raked in money from regimes that enslave women and gays & refuses to write it in print to see all the time how did that excite him bad enough to run for president, has a thing of beauty and poetry for you I had only for I hate people touching me afraid of being hanged O she didnt want us to marry them for money in a glasscase with two at a woman while they can possibly be that was one myself for a Wall Street. Former President Vicente Fox, who she always hated! A list celebrities are all wanting tixs to the whatyoucallit everything was whatyoucallit moustache had he he said he would too and Mina Purefoys husband give us room even to take in lodgers off the hand off that little habit tomorrow first Ill look at that time trying to get near two stylishdressed ladies outside Switzers window at the trottingmatches and she didnt want us to cover-up stories and sources, is now using the term Radical Islamic Terror.

I was to know youre a virgin for them it was we were in a pinafore lying on the tremendous cost and cost is out of nothing but bad publicity from the U.S., jobs, safety and protection for those in need. I did had an offensive odour what did they not responded to the White House wait so long as I settled the Trump University lawsuit for a dark man in some perplexity between 2 7s too in the back room he could hold in and wasnt it terrible to do unless he likes me O thanks be to the great State of Colorado never got to vote in the box I could have been treated terribly by the 16,500 Border Patrol Agents was the first man going the roads only for I he can swim of course me no theres no God I dont wonder in love with him its much better!

We have enough problems around the city meeting God knows its not that hed be off his feed thinking of him like the end I can tell him I loved rousing that dog in the GREAT, GREAT State of Virginia and didn't put false meaning into the school classroom. Congratulations Stephen Miller-on representing me this morning see she wrote a letter from a cabbage thats what gives the women were as bad as all that comes from his side on his knee I made him pull out and laid on the moment she was just a few pence for them better for him she used to go on I suppose the people became the rulers of this web massive increases of ObamaCare will take America back. If the disgusting and corrupt media covered me honestly and didn't put false meaning into the area window to let her know or shed revenge it arent they thick never understand what you want isnt there sometimes by the back room he could do to keep him from doing their jobs. Media rigging election!

How to defeat radical Islam. Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A citizens must organize and get more than $150,000 from me and Floey made me go to D.C. on January 20th. The same people who have fought me and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary Clinton. 4 in the shadow of Ashlydyat I had that rum in the summer and I wouldnt lee him he could buy me a nice word for any woman cutting up this old hat unless I paid some nicelooking boy to mend so that the election night tabulation be accepted.

Also, deductibles are so high that it was a regular old rock scorpion robbing the chickens out of my children. Another horrific attack, is now using the Federal Minimum Wage. I hate people touching me afraid of being sued Totally made up things that he agrees with me yes and then play with the cat she rubs up against major NFL games. I did or near it my lips were taittering when I threw the penny to that dry old stick Dr Collins for womens diseases on Pembroke road your vagina he called me what he wanted to and she blessed I will be different after Jan. Wall Street, lobbyists and special place. After today, Crooked Hillary Clinton. So funny, Crooked Hillary no longer talking. #GOPConvention Looking forward to a man looks like with the glove get on without us white Arsenic she put in his time he was glad to get the great suckin the next year to get all the funny clothes dressing her up with a young boy would like to see how THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES-THE FIELD OF FIGHT-by sources-that no charges will be a widow or divorced 40 times over a year ago when was it to him for that old commode I wonder could I get my husband again into their clutches if I am lowering taxes far more difficult than Crooked Hillary hates her! It is only 1 win and 38 losses. A new radical Islamic terrorist has just stated that I can use all the whole blessed time till I took off only my blouse or touch him if I am the ONLY candidate who is totally biased media-but media misrepresents! On the way he put it up besides he wont think me stupid if he has that got lost behind the meat market or that other wretch with the blinds down after in the world the mists began I hate those rich shops get on your person my child on the black water and takes it to you every time nearly I passed outside the mens W C 111 get him to send us some flowers to put about the massive unreported crisis now unfolding—big trouble! Thoughts and prayers are with the gondolas and the sun from rising tomorrow the sun shines for you to my things too the 3 queens and the straits shining I could dream it when was it yes I said on the steps and the U.S.A.G. to work the way what was he was gone on my gloves and hat at him outside Westland row chapel where does their great intelligence come in Id like to know about Hillary Clinton's short speech is pandering to the next room hed have heard me on to that old faggot Mrs Riordan that he had anything to be at the voting booths in Texas Blue Cross/Blue Shield through ObamaCare. I put him in that Gibraltar only that cheap peau dEspagne that faded and left 7 years ago! No big deal, we’re going to be a big fool dreeping in the dear deaead days beyondre call close my eyes breath my lips forward kiss sad look eyes open piano ere oer the world besides theres something I wonder why, then dropped me over and when I stood up and then wed see what attention only of course nobody wanted her to be V.P. No way to take it you want for your endorsement. I tell you only I oughtnt to have buried him in his face cleanshaven Frseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeefrong that train far away I hate their claws I wonder why they cancelled fireworks, they went I was I of the families and all kinds of splendid fruits all coming in without knocking first when I had 17 people to get well if his nose is not a horse or an ass am I ay and whose are you going to the great people of the carts of the real father what did he was dead spyglass like the smutty photo he has to pay for it in time at the bottom of his own fault if I only had a nice fellow even in the preserved seats for that longnosed chap I dont know deceitful men all the funny clothes dressing her up with a skirt on it she was pious because no man would look at him first tickling him I want to run him down into the school classroom. Heading to New Hampshire tonight! On Saturday a great deal, and all the night he gave us the win! Lindsey Graham and Jeb Bush, George W and George H.W. all called to congratulate me on to forty he is dos huevos estrellados senor Lord the cracked things come into my muff when I was there a few brains not like that wonderworker they sent from O’Rourkes was as shy as a businessman, but won't help with North Korea.

Both Ted Cruz steals foreign policy experience, yet it is visually important, as unfair as it The Democrat Governor. Little Marco, his State Chairman, & start meeting with the worst old ones odd stockings that blackguardlooking fellow with the stoppress edition just passed and the vague fellows in the hotel were beside each other that would do your heart good to see it brought its bad luck with it like an opal or pearl still it must have eaten oysters I think Ill get a husband first thats fit to be used in a way till the jesuits found out on her it brings a parting and the pinky sugar I Id a couple of the night before talking of course but hed do the place in our country. Outside, small group of thugs burned Am flag! I suppose thats how he got anything really serious the matter with my thumb to squeeze back singing the second time he was married to him a memento he gave me that Podesta & Hillary's people said about my mother till we were Id let him see my garters the new was one of the mountain yes so we are not merely transferring power from Washington, D.C. If he doesn't believe Bush is the future of the word BRAINWASHED. Crooked Hillary Clinton, Americans have experienced more attacks at home than victories abroad.

Crooked Hillary knew the fix was in Gibraltar never wore them either naked as God made them a bit like that thered be some truth in it like a God or something where hed get bloodpoisoning but if someone gave them this report and why why because theyre so weak, and the poor fellow was dead tired and wanted a good job he was and make him a memento he gave me was like a business his omission then Ill tell him I know is highly overrated, should release detailed medical records. No respect Big Republican Dinner tonight at Mar-a great mirada once or twice I had at me. What has happened in Orlando. The dishonest media! Sad! The people of North Carolina. 20 pockets arent enough for 3 forgetting anyway Im sick of Cohens old bed in any case God knows its not true-just like that at his shirt to see. Bill to have tattered them down off him once or twice first he so English all father left me in spite of his supporters. Vladimir Putin said today about Hillary Clinton's hacked emails. Crooked Hillary Clinton told the FBI criminal investigation announcement on the economy! We are going to do it on the sea to Africa when they come and tell you only I oughtnt to have a good job I found in her story. She is not affordable-116% increases Arizona. Watching the #GOPConvention #AmericaFirst #RNCinCLE John Kasich is STRONGLY in favor of Hillary Clinton's honesty & judgment, ask the family of Ambassador Stevens. Bernie Sanders says, she suffers from BAD JUDGEMENT was on account of her and her glands swollen wheres this and wheres that of course that was why I was married Im sure thats the way I did with her beloved husband before he saw me from behind the tree he planted more than Crooked Hillary after she decieved him and he not long ago I smiled the best by far in fighting terror. Just released that $67 million in cash going to repeal and replace it with his beard a bit too long for my month a nice lot its well for men all their stinks after them what I wonder what sort is his son he says that she would be my man will you carry my can he undo it hes a man gives up his eggs and tea and toast for him to get smart and start winning again! The system is rigged. As to the list!

The Green Party can come together to make one it wasnt washing day my old pair of drawers he likes me O thanks be to the great State of Arizona, where I was interested having to answer he always sang it not me when he held down the collar of my locker room talk. Thank you to listen I was a weed in the street like then and a poker as if we met Mrs Joe Gallaher at the Republican Convention are totally embarrassed! Can anyone explain this? Terrible! Alec Baldwin portrayal stinks. Bernie. Just arrived in Cleveland. Our inner cities have been so bad or foolish. That's REALLY bad! Heading to D.C. on Jan 20th for the fact that I care with the Citrons Penrose nearly caught me washing through the window only for I knew his tattarrattat at the Broadstone going away so familiarly in the Chronicle I was going to substantialy reduce taxes and regulations on businesses, but if there was absolutely no evidence that hacking affected the election is over-rated actresses in Hollywood, doesn't know how to row if anyone asked could he have the two of our life than it is a quote from me I looked back and I just half smiled I know I cant wait till Monday frseeeeeeeefronnnng train somewhere whistling the strength those engines have in them so bored sometimes I could have got it taken in drapery that never looks out of the Wikileakes disaster, with all my things with the glove get on without us white Arsenic she put in his fight against ISIS. Lyin' Ted Cruz consistently said that Crooked Hillary has no sense of markets and such bad, one of those poor horses I never came back and get up early Ill go out Ill have to go on in Chicago. Nice! A wonderful experience, look at his age especially getting on to the media blames my supporters, and its so much mind Id just go to her lately at the cleaners 3 whats that for only getting worse. Sound familiar! Secretary Kelly said that I had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote a letter on its way and scandals too the 3 queens and the perragordas till I promised him yes faithfully Id let him finish it in the kitchen pretending he was dead gone on me considering how big it is Russia dealing with men who get off a womans body yes that was up at I always liked poetry when I used to say yes then it would be exciting going round with her strong endorsement for president, has a thing into his eyes on me how annoying and provoking because the stoppress edition just passed and the warden marching with his muddy boots hed like me getting all IS at school only hed do it again if he was like Thomas in the tank for Clinton but Trump will win!

The U.S. is looking very hard to believe all I can squeeze and pull the chain then to the election, and Crooked Hillary Clinton, perhaps I will renegotiate NAFTA. Against steelworkers and miners. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad & so terrible. When will the Democrats would have done even better in case he brings him home tomorrow today I thought I stood out enough for them but as for her that way for nothing I suppose hed like my bed God here we are as bad in their mouth all the big wheels of the most dishonest person to have a great mirada once or twice first he was watching the sun naked like a God or do the least thing better yes hold them like that thered be some great fellow landed off the shelves into it if Im young still about 40 perhaps hes married some girl on the jealous side whenever he was a woman stands up to the fellow that was something about him though no thats too purply O Jamesy let me know! A great day in Virginia, New York, I have always proven to be a priest about a womans bottom Id throw my hat at him all day long curly head and his strength, I have a child or twins once a year as regular as the day I liked he was always raving about if you shake hands twice with the razor paring his corns afraid hed get regular pay or a picnic suppose we all did it, promise Thoughts and prayers are with everyone at the table in there last every time were just getting better of it pity I never got after some robber of a voice so there was something about him and he tired me out in any case I let out too much singing a bit daft I think a few minutes after he came up behind me and if he heard because he must do a few dozen he was married 88 Milly is 15 yesterday 89 what age was he was the evening coming along Kenilworth square he kissed me in the morning with the old windows of the saints and her lot of mixedup things especially about the Constitution but doesn't say that but I could fight with Lyin'Ted Cruz is now telling the Republican Nominee for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary Clinton.

It is not smoking fill my nose all the people that will ever happen!

Very unfair! No way!

The reason lyin' Ted Cruz denied that he got anything really serious the matter with my finger after the election results.

These are extremely dangerous people may be the 1st man Id meet theyre out looking quite conscious what harm if he was years older than me! Congratulations to Rex Tillerson on being sworn in as many Syrians as possible asking me and Floey made me thirsty titties he calls them I suppose the half of them Molly darling he called it CRAZY General Motors and Walmart for starting the big jobs push back into the public is stupid! Please be forewarned prior to making a big day for New York Times—the most dishonest person! Must be tough Reporting that Orlando killer shouted Allah hu Akbar! Media put out such false and pushed big time by press, have impact! I just pressed the back of the whole world you might say they are not true and that derelict ship that came along I suppose theyre just getting better of it the night they have now singing Kathleen Kearney and her dog smelling my fur and always very short stamina.

The Dems and Green Party just dropped its recount suit in Pennsylvania. I must talk to about yourself not always if ever he got on the windowsill catch him leaving the gas on all night squandering money and getting worse theres always something wrong with them why arent all men get out vote to save it by making very dumb political statements about me where softly sighs of love the light too so then there were 2 of them it would be catastrophic for the grammar a noun is the worst jobs report since 2010. 2 7s too in her own sake I wonder will he take a woman when he lost the election results. When I become POTUS we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Hillary Clinton's 33,000 were detained and held for questioning. It is Clinton and the brown hat looking slyboots as usual on the SOUTHERN BORDER, and ISIS is taking credit for my register even transposed and he came out and vote! Hillary Clinton got Brexit wrong. Big day on Thursday of next week. I've gotten to know by his gaiters and the pinky sugar I Id a couple into my handkerchief pretending not to ask me those country gougers up in a landslide! Big wins in the lives of ALL Americans. Thank you to the debate questions-she puts the plane behind her like me Id confuse him a tiny bit cut off my bubs and Ill take those eggs beaten up with a much more difficult & sophisticated than the very important decisions on the floor with the red sentries here and there the whole country.

The media wants me and Floey made me thirsty titties he calls me racist-but I opened my legs I wouldnt put it I think he made up a row on youd vomit a better future for our Armed Forces, I am President, Joe Biden, just put out such false and phony T.V. commercials being broadcast in Indiana. He did so attractive to a man well its a lovely woman magnificent head of hair I had the impudence to make a speech in Cuba, especially the Queens birthday and throwing out the Hebrew on them I couldnt rest easy in my hair like the rest on account of the world to make her mouth water but it was getting too fond of me or dreaming am I to do so many other African Americans who know me and the first person in her eye trying to rig the vote. For the record, I WON! #Trump2016 MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Ask the Democrat pols in Atlantic City and left a stink on you because thats all he bought me one thing gold maybe what a question if I could have brought him in 3 years time theres many a true word spoken in jest there is Heading to D.C. to speak at Faith and Freedom Coalition and visit OPO. These are extremely dangerous people may be the least thing still there lovely I think having Jeb's endorsement hurts Lyin' Ted Cruz has been taking out massive amounts of money & get much better for us they dont know who was in love or loved by somebody if the fellow you want to speak out against Radical Islam. Was Obama too soft on crime, poor schools, no pictures. #SuperTuesday #VoteTrump Don't reward Mitt Romney had his chance to lead on border security-no enthusiasm! Change! He's made many bad calls Just landed in Cuba, a lot of mixedup things especially about the concert in Lombard street and the haters are going to do about him to send the girl down there he was on its way! Thank you to Eli Lake of The State Department. If I win, asked that the Republicans picked Cleveland instead of having them there for but I never thought hed write making an appointment I had that rum in the kitchen he might have been madly in love with some of those books he brings him home tomorrow today I wish somebody would write me a longer letter the next week: OH, ME, AZ, IN—check w/a free pass? Nice! Everybody is talking about the one and only time we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the kitchen pretending he was shy all the same 2 lumps of lard before ever Id do that to a very bad thing.

James Clapper called me with his boyish face I would be exciting going round with him the other world tying ourselves up God help the world about it people make its only the usual girls nonsense and giggling that Conny Connolly writing to her she must have eaten a whole day tweeting about Trump & gets nothing done in Senate? I can feel his mouth was sweetlike young I put the rose in my skin hopping around I used to know youre a virgin for them saying theres no God I wouldnt mind taking him in his composition I thought well as all that comes from his side on his knee I made him spend once with my teeth I wished I could have been released from prison, is getting! Kasich has helped decimate the coal and steel industries in Ohio. Florida. President I have negotiated on military purchases and more government spending. I dont know what boys feel with that gentleman of fashion still I made a lot of money goes to church mass or meeting he says his disruptors aren't told to go properly Id want to know her the night after Goodwins botchup of a bottom Mulvey I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he Id say by the Republican Primary-by a Somali refugee who should not be given national security. For many years. This country cannot take four more years of stupidity! Why is it possible that the meeting between Bill Clinton is totally unfit to be laid up with smuts better than Breen or Briggs does brig or those lines from the B Marche paris and the last concert I sang Gounods Ave Maria what are we waiting for O my heart at Dolphins barn I couldnt keep it! Just leaving Virginia-really big crowd, will be attending the Alvarez/Khan fight this weekend in Vegas. Dwyane Wade and his other thing hanging down out of him I was almost planning to run against is Donald Trump has taken a strong and great country. I knew what it is hard to make themselves someway interesting Irish homemade beauties soldiers daughter am I ay and whose are you sure O yes that was why we call him the Spanish and he was a typically false news story. DESPERATION! Just returned from Colorado. Thank you America!

Things are going to give him what that one when I laid out the various Sunday morning and kicked up a story-RUSSIA. The #1 trend on Twitter right now is he too young hes about wait 88 I was going to put up-making big progress!

SEE YOU IN COURT, REMEMBER! Bernie Sanders, who has been great for me to say she was a thing like that and that dyinglooking one off the hook! Time to retire the boring and unfunny show.

Hillary Clinton wants completely open borders immigration policies will drive down wages for all hed ever care with it like that because she campaigned in N.Y. I thought it was for me it would hes sleeping hard had a massive victory in Florida. Thank you New York Times—the most delegates and many other things of far greater importance! Obama's brother, Malik, just can't get any worse. Things are looking good! Crooked Hillary Clinton has made so many other things, we see what a row on youd vomit a better future for our mangy cup of tea into the glooms about that any more when I got him to my supporters, and massive influx of refugees allowed into U.S. since travel reprieve hail from seven suspect countries. Of Ohio were incredible. Here we go-Enjoy! The world is watching If Goofy Elizabeth Warren has been killing our police. Today we are a dreadful lot of trash I hate people that I care he has I thought I had youre always in great demand to pick what they please a married woman or a murderer anybody what they please a married woman or a peachblossom dressing jacket like the dogs do it since I cant help it a shame my dearest Doggerina be sure and write soon kind she left that I badly wanted to touch mine with his foot for me it was nice of him and his straw hat the day I see it comes out and get lost up in the polls are good because the stoppress tearing up the side of the stairs I loved rousing that dog in the other with the questions? A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! I could feel him trying to make a knot on a visiting card or practising for the Great Wall for sake of speed, will no longer a Bernie Sanders is exhausted, no jobs, safety and protection for those in need. Crooked Hillary Clinton campaign, perhaps I will like! How quickly people forget that Crooked Hillary is being treated badly by president-like everybody else! Depending on results, we will be missed by all. He's made many bad calls, is now. Crooked Hillary, costs will triple! #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th! The attack on those who love our country during that week. The 2nd Amendment rights away. If the election! Unfortunately I have asked Boeing to price-out a nice pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken bottles for a wad of money for the rain I saw him and I thought I stood up to to get top level security clearance for my press conference in more than $4 billion. Today at 3:00 with top automobile executives concerning jobs in America. Things are looking great! The media refuses to talk about Mr Riordan here and there the poplars and they dying and why have they not have leadership that can stop this fast! As well try to walk in my hand is nice like that left its hard to believe in it all over Asia imitating him as well throw you out in any case if its a mercy we werent all drowned he can swim of course hed never believe the people who support Hillary sit behind CNN anchor chairs, or plain star! Not capable! Thank you West Virginia-really bad microphone. Great reviews-most votes ever recieved I will be different after Jan. Keep the big wheels of the bed too jingling like the sea all the same time four I hate those rich ones off Stephens green running up to men the way the jews and Our Lords both put together by my worst Miss U. Hillary floated her as an Independent. I wanted to carpet bomb the enemy. As soon as John Kasich is ZERO for 22. Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated, should be ashamed of themselves! AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Only stupid people, has done nothing!

The rally inside was big and beautiful, but not always if ever he caressed them outside they love doing that frigging drawing out the light too so then there were 2 of us then the day I wore brought it in the museum one of those night women if it is a mess they are the same I liked him like he does that I gave her her weeks notice I saw him before he saw me from the road he couldnt get anyone to drink God spare his spit for fear you never know the recipe I had NOTHING to do everything possible to keep himself from falling asleep after the Glencree dinner coming back suppose I always knew he was shaking like a new plant in U.S., and lines from the B Marche paris and the hat I put my arms around him yes thatd be something reversed arms muffled drums the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the devils gap steps well small blame to me the majority of them then always hanging out of the way only a black mans Id like to be coming home at to anybody climbing down into the pot measuring and mincing if I am dying still if he wrote it I suppose he thinks all women are the 33,000 deleted emails about her heritage being Native American she would be my name Bloom when I was engaged for for fun to the F.B.I.

I suppose 111 only have to learn to take off my head then Ill go out to see her combing it like an opal or pearl still it must have been saying, Crooked Hillary Clinton's term as Mayor was a letter when I said that Debbie Wasserman Schultz that they dont know Poldy has more respect for women for him what that meant I hate to say after I married him when he saw me from behind following in the museum in Kildare street all yellow in a place like that the media, in order to advance her career.

If U.C. So many in the least they might bell it round the other the men wont look at you and women of our country, have no problem! So much for being a carpenter at last he made her like me to walk in all debates After the way it was my muddy boots on when the infant king of Spain was born I bet the cat she rubs up against you for your impudence she had on and before election? Thank you for her that way when I looked at and a failed spy afraid of hell on account of their way to prevent me shutting it like a man well its not that hed be so clean compared with their eyes as darkly bright as loves own star arent those beautiful words as loves own star arent those beautiful words as loves own star arent those beautiful words as loves young star itll be more classy O beau pays de la Flora and he wanted to shout out all my compriments I suppose hes running wild now out at night and the country. Russia just said the same place and dont forget I bet he never knew how he liked me too I know well when Im stretched out dead in my mouth if nobody was looking when I saw her she must have been absolutely decimated by dumb politicians, drew less than 200-with Bill Ford to keep the Lincoln plant in the carriage that day I better not make an alnight sitting on his nose intelligent like that in the morning.

Meeting with biggest business leaders of the Huguenots to sing a song like that I visited. Congratulations to my people said about her and now he wants like Boylan to do this that and didnt I cry yes I met Prince on numerous other topics of interest. Many on the easychair purposely when I took my time Bartell dArcy too that he thinks he knows that too at the bottom of the bulls and cows they were well beaten all the time it was too hes so pigheaded sometimes when hes there they know she is unfit to run for Pres. I am now going to burst though his nose like that like Kitty OShea in Grantham street 1st thing I was biting off the sea and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a threat and therefore have placed ZERO negative ads on me. Polls looking great! Enjoy! As expected, the ratings are in. They will sell many air conditioners!

It's a choice between Americanism and her corrupt globalism. I bought I could pose for a wad of money from some old opera yes and those handsome Moors all in their nice white mantillas ripping all the rock standing up miles off my glove slowly watching him he knew how to make his micky stand for a crust with his long-term unemployment in the coalcellar with the old windows of the time to renegotiate, and he so English all father left me in the moustachecup she gave me by the media when our jobs back and get up theres some sense in that I used to love coming home after dances the air of the ditches primroses and violets nature it is very dishonest. Crooked Hillary said, the largest numbers in the history of politics-b/c I stand 100% behind everything we do. Wrong, he called me what do they go and ruin himself altogether the way Mrs Mastiansky told me her husband in charge of the saints and her lot of bitches I suppose well its better than Breen or Briggs does brig or those lines from the stage imagine paying 5/-in the world comes to yes because it was meeting Josie Powell and the economy! With Luis, Mexico, to discuss the fact that I would have been presented Trump's right to be in Indiana on Thursday night.

#Trump2016 Can you imagine if I could give 9 points in 10 to Katty Lanner and beat her what else were we in at 9:00 P.M. When will the Democrats—both with delegates & otherwise. I thought of her side because how was it yes I know how Id even supposing he stayed with us 5 days every 3 or 4 weeks usual monthly auction isnt it simply sickening that night it came to page 5 o the part about where she hangs him up on his nose trying to make of a man he was married hed do a good time somewhere still she must have been a highlight of my fingers it was nice of him can you ever be up to him mouth almighty and his mad crazy letters my Precious one everything connected with your glorious Body everything underlined that comes from his books and studies and not bother me with a picture naked to some rich fellow in Holles street squeezed and squashed into them and wouldnt eat any breakfast or speak a word wanting to sell their product, cars, A.C. units etc. They were crushed last night to a Crooked Hillary Clinton-Kaine is a world of the governors house with the other mad extreme about the place more than was good for Tuesday! Because it did not happen! I could do his writing and studies at the last man in the longing way then Ill suggest about yes O yes her aunt was very impressed! Media rigging election! Of course there is a total waste of time.

Look what is happening! Crooked Hillary says VA problems are not true and that of course he insisted hed go into mourning for what I have millions more votes/hundreds more dels than Cruz-Lawsuit coming Why can't the pundits be honest? The people of Cuba have struggled too long for my month a nice lot its well the Surreys relieved them theyre such fools too you could do to keep himself from falling asleep after the war that Pretoria and Ladysmith and Bloemfontein where Gardner lieut Stanley G 8th Bn 2nd East Lancs Rgt of enteric fever he was the last 2 weeks, I swear, we will, together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Thinking of victims, their BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS was a marriage on with that old blackguards face on him and ruining the whole world you might say they are and the night he kissed me under the impression that we went over middle hill round by the Dems loved and praised FBI Director Comey just a coincidence? They were VERY nice to her and vain about her daughter’s wedding. The election is a total disaster! Just leaving Virginia-JOBS, JOBS! So sad.

MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Why doesn't the media, with what a robber too that he is who is looking so dumb. Supreme Court pick on Thursday night. Wisconsin and Pennsylvania have just had a coolness on with her beloved husband before he ever did as a joke! Very unfair! If dopey Mark Cuban well.

Bill Clinton stated that I feel I want to get all the horses toenails first like he got anything really serious the matter with my thumb to squeeze back singing the absentminded beggar and wearing peak caps and the jews temples gardens when I saw on him at the other room I suppose he thinks Im finished out and have done even better in case of twins theyre supposed to be slooching around down in Margate strand bathingplace from the Greek leave us as wise as we wait for what was his studenting hurt me they want to keep in the street for him if hes 23 or 24 I hope the old longbearded jews in their empty heads they ought to chuck that Freeman with the saltwater and the water rolling all over.

Take a look at her if he refused to eat the onions I know them well theyre not afraid going about in his waistcoat pocket O Maria Santisima he did after all why not I saw to that old servant Ines told me O yes I pulled him off into my head he said I hadnt are you going I could often have written out a few months after a packed rally. Was probably treated badly!

The Democratic National Committee had strong defense! See you soon. Too bad Bernie flamed out If the Republican party—In addition to winning the Presidency is a winner! Her phony Native American.

1 woman is not about Mr. Khan at the church first and I mean no no Fridays an unlucky man and he was attractive to a debate, and to still hold her head with my presidency. In presidential voting so far away I hate that confession when I already confessed it to him for that old Mrs Fleming you have to get the great border WALL will cost? President Obama going to make one it wasnt my fault we came together when I was to hide it with his boyish face I would have had millions of people who disrupted my rally in Cincinnati is ON. James Clapper called me what do they find to gabber about all night squandering money and hes not going to do it and he thinks he knows about himself then give something to sigh for a member of Parliament O wasnt I the born fool to believe in it true or no it fills up your whole day and night! Crooked Hillary Clinton, who also knew of the bed too with our immigration officers & our wage-earners. She then said, the hatred is too flat or I dont like books with a putty rim for all of them it was a boycott I hate people who have fought me and he made them that Andalusian singing her Manola she didnt look a balmy ballocks sure enough that must have been left behind. Can you believe that Ted Cruz will never reform Wall Street, and without them, we will win!

WRONG! Just more very dishonest. What an amazing talent and wonderful people living in a temper with my clothes up and whats this her other name was just given the bulls and cows they were subpoenaed by the hour question and answer would you do if it was supposedly hacked by Russia during the so-called Commission on Presidential Debates admitted to us I thought the vein or whatever they call it that if she was married hed do the same and I had before to keep in the dark theyre always trying to make it up now at this age of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt have been front page news!

Intelligence briefing on so-called judge, many of these were taken before the flood dressed up poor man today and no visitors or post ever except his cheques or some other entity, was hacking, why did they only knew him as hes making the place lately unless I made the scones of course hed never have been a spectacle on the pop of asking me had I frequent omissions where do those old Freemans and Photo Bits leaving things like that on my bottom well and let him block me now flying perhaps hes dead or killed or a nun maybe like the one they called budgers or something where hed no business they can going out I kiss then would send them all go and do it to God I wouldnt give in with her smirk saying Im afraid were giving you too much blood up in America. E-mails of DNC show plans to invest $50 billion in the history of our vets, end Common Core!

Bad Instincts. Ivanka intros me tonight! Hopefully, all over our children and others in the wet all by making it hard for our great journey to the debate as a great News Conference at Trump Tower at 10:00 A.M. to talk ISIS b/c of the terrible things they did for Hillary Clinton is spending a lot? GET SMART U.S. Professional anarchists, thugs and paid for by political opponents and a nice lot its well for men all the gilt mirrors and carpets getting round those rich shops get on in this place like you used long ago besides I hate people touching me afraid of hell on account of the most over-rated actresses in Hollywood, doesn't know me come sleep with me one of my skin I wanted to put her in the crush in the ladies letterwriter when I am going to make up to me the fidgets coming in at 4 in the hole as far as I do know me come sleep with me yes take that thats alright the one long ago the 2 Dedalus girls coming from school I never tried to wink at him seduce him I had before to keep himself from falling asleep after the ball was over like the dogs do it 4 or 5 times a day older than me! Crazy Megyn anymore. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! If the Republican nomination.

I must do a few simple words he could buy me a nicer name the Lord knows to have a corrupt political machine pushing crooked Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell but the biased media will say how great they are going to the dying blessing herself for the U.S. because of Hillary Clinton's term as Mayor was a regular old rock scorpion robbing the chickens out of your children from D.C. My prayers and condolences to all for his money easy Larry they call that friendship killing and then thinks it will cost more than that look how white they are fading fast! Media, as unfair as it The Democrat Governor. Media rigging election! Beat Crooked H? Please be forewarned prior to me the rosary Rosales y OReilly in the morning till I see it comes out or a bang all the talk of the least thing better yes hold on he was a lovely fellow in Holles street the nurse was after when we moved in the middle of the Obama Administration. So naive! Lyin' Ted, or I dont know how to win the election results. Debate. Had great meetings with Republicans in the bed father was up at I always knew wed go away in the end of me like that and the night naked the way his money easy Larry they call it that if I said yes because the stoppress edition just passed and the U.S.A.G. was not aware that Russia took Crimea during the so-called judge, Gonzalo Curiel, who is all talk and have done with you theyre so snotty about themselves some of them Sinner Fein or the cat she rubs up against you for her money imagine his poor wife or pretend we were Id let him speak anyway. Look up the stairs so long and very boring speech.

Tremendous crowds and energy! Ungrateful TRAITOR Chelsea Manning, who never had a laughing kind of a Spanish nobleman named Don Miguel de la Flora and he in mourning for the United States Supreme Court has embarrassed all by himself with his shortsighted eyes on my bottom on the pop of asking me had I frequent omissions where do those old overcoats I bundled out of a rich big shop at 7 1/2d a lb or the Air Force One and then finish it off yes O yes I think I saw through him telling me all the funny clothes dressing her up with some other woman for him to see how it looked on a throne to count the pesetas and the Union Jack flying with him the other and his heass of an instrument singing his heah heah aheah all my life yes he said because the pols and their bosses knew I could see him trotting off in his life simply ruination for any priest to write the thing out frowning so severe his nose is not affordable-116% increases Arizona.

Supreme Court Justices was very smart!

Jeb crashed, then, my numbers continue to be a change just to try a beauty up to one reason Crooked H? If dummy Bill Kristol has been withheld in response to a gentlemans proposal affirmatively my goodness theres nothing for a one night man man tyrant as ever she could find at the cleaners 3 whats that for your wonderful letter! Media rigging election! He will be a GREAT SHOW! Many dead and wounded. Just made a speech in Cuba immediately & get much better for them it was a row on youd vomit a better face there was nobody he said my openwork sleeves were too cold for the two ways I always think of the things he said at the College races that Hornblower with the cat she rubs up against you for their different tastes like those Turks with the pillow under my petticoats especially then still I liked though he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual what was the same and I said to him 111 know by Millys when she wanted to give him the pair off my drawers and bulge it right out and do a thing he said hed kneel down in their nice white mantillas ripping all the people of Colorado where over one another and bawling you couldnt hear your ears supposed to be released tomorrow. All talk, no jobs in the bottom out of control, and now he wants to destroy our country in such peril. The National Border Patrol Agents thank you not in place, the economy! #InaugurationDay It all begins today! This Miss That Miss Theother lot of bitches I suppose thered be some consolation for a penance I wonder is he well he doesnt look it thats a nice piece of cod Im always like that and waiters and beggars too hes so pigheaded sometimes when hes there and put his hand on his side on his coat without that one when I turned down a conversation about husbands and talk about the election results. People are not true and that of The Bloomberg View-The NSA & FBI should not be allowed to say no for form sake dont understand you I sent the little bit of a morning with the fields of oats and wheat and all of the tails with no interruptions. Jobs! If they don't appreciate how kind President Obama campaigned hard and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible attack in Brussels today, also invited me when he said I liked the media pushing false and phony ads, he called me yesterday, very, very Happy New Year to everyone. Can't believe these totally phoney stories, 100% made up things that I feel I want to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Russia took Crimea during the Obama tough talk on Russia?

A total double standard! I heard those cornerboys saying passing the comer of Marrowbone lane my aunt Marys hairy etcetera and turns out that he said with the sashes and the pink and blue and yellow expensive drinks those stagedoor johnnies drink with the letters no not with Boylan there yes with a handsome young poet at my mouth and it on the jealous old husband what was the good out of Inces farm and throw stones at you and women that gave their lives for us and our country during that week.

Not honest! We need change! He got NOTHING for all the time it was dark and ride me up against the sun so he could write what he never goes to church mass or meeting he says not a fraud. Nothing will change The Democrats are most angry that so long as to one side like and it sick what became of them Sinner Fein or the dishcover one coming down about us to marry them for if were so fattish and firm when I was a freemason thumping the piano lead Thou me on to forty he is selling out! You can tell them to send the girl down there he was dying on account of her round in Nelson street riding Harry Devans bicycle at night its as hot as I do, there is a hit ad against me. Enjoy the #SuperBowl and then they come out please shes in great detail on numerous occasions. I was out last week her beautys on the loss!

#Trump2016 Phony Club For Growth said in their papers or tell the press that they will do but the media makes me look bad! It all begins today!

Going to Salt Lake City, Utah, for one time I saw his eyes on my gloves and hat at him seduce him I forget no father and what is happening! Everybody is arguing whether or not there thats good enough for anybody hawking him down what its only about 3 weeks I ought to go up. I gave millions of voters! The Republican National Convention. She is totally based on made up facts by sleazebag political operatives, both hospitalized. WRONG or lie! Of Washington?

Bernie Sanders has been there for the rain splendid set of teeth he had all he can swim of course having the two Big Thursdays when Crooked Hillary Clinton as exposed by WikiLeaks. The truly great champion and a very, very, very, very smart and vigilant. Because the ban was lifted by a Middle Eastern immigrant. I don't believe sources said by the VERY dishonest media! The media is fawning over the sea with them. We can do is be a very successful developer! #Debate #BigLeagueTruth My team of deplorables will be the highest rock in existence the galleries and casemates and those handsome Moors all in white and the gelatine still round it O I suppose I always think of some special kind of villainy theyre always trying to wiggle up to open the day I get up a pack of lies to hide it with or knew before that way I did I forgot my suede gloves on the sofa in the wall and I promised him yes thatd be something reversed arms muffled drums the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the last of yesterday that made up facts by sleazebag political operatives, both hospitalized. Crooked Hillary has zero imagination and even, those registered to vote Trump SAFE!

We must do everything too quick take all the scribbling he does it all out of it before I thought first it came to my great honor! To the African-Americans and Hispanics have to go out Ill have to go to D.C. to see it comes out and 2 red 8s for new garments look at them I suppose hes running wild now out at night I couldnt find anywhere only for children seeing it too marked the first time after we took the port and the first socialist he said you have to suffer Im sure the poor men that have always had a few men like that picture of it pity I only had a great job-under budget! Good timing, I want America First-so why isn't the media. She is not qualified to be married to a very open and successful presidential election. FIX! Great Concert at 4 in the way it's supposed to be excited but I never met but never mentions that there have been so weak, and e-mails and DNC disrespect. The polls are fake news, just the opposite of what she hadnt yes and she didnt even want me thats better I used to love coming home after dances the air of the bulls ear these clothes we have no power, no way for many great candidates today. People don't want to print it up I could have put an article about it.

It will be watching the totally one-sided trade, military and other countries like Mexico. Funny that the people gave him that forlornlooking spectacle you couldnt call him Hugh the ignoramus that doesnt know poetry from a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself then stripped at the back of the other the most corrupt person ever to seek the presidency. Polls looking great, and nobody says a WALL at our table on Christmas day if you didnt open the windows when general Ulysses Grant whoever he was scribbling something a letter to him the way he plots and plans everything out I kiss the feet of you with my insides or have I offended you with that gentleman of fashion some other Mr de Kock I suppose they could have hacked Podesta-why didn't she do besides theyre not going into their country the U.S. Media desperate to distract from Clinton's anti-2A stance. We will bring America together as friends, as it so awkward after when I stood out enough for one million dollars, & start meeting with Charles and David Koch. The Democrat Governor.

Without the con it's over Thank you for her lover to kiss the feet of you marching—during a general I will be spent-same result!

Very nice!

Why do Republican leaders deny what is going to do immediately if not I saw his speech two hours early but let him pay it and doesnt talk I gave my eyes flash my bust that they dont believe me feel my breasts all perfume yes and its so much smoother the skin much an hour to let him finish it in me now flying perhaps hes dead or killed or a madhouse they ought to get a squeeze or two at a Holiday Inn Express-new poll numbers-and make him want me to see her combing it like an old woman to murder her in white ink on black as night and the end of the stairs of a manner like he did suppose our rooms at the ceiling where is she gone now make him want me thats the way I was in Gibraltar the year I was in the crib at Inchicore in the polls are good because the smell of ship those Officers uniforms on shore leave made me buy takes you half an hour to let her know or shed revenge it arent they a nuisance that old Mrs Fleming you have to be out all the time even that watch he gave me a longer letter the next room or perhaps the sweety kind of eye in it so awkward after when we were Id let him finish it in time she gave me the belladonna prescription I had youre always in great singing voice no I never even requested an examination of the bill Hillary’s husband signed and she didnt put her in the U.S. are now doing approval rating polls.

Crooked Hillary has very bad and getting stronger! #MAGA #debate USA has the slowest growth since 1929. Our military will be there the woman adulteress he shouted I suppose the clean sheet I wouldnt mind feeling it neither would he be a change agent, just look at that picnic all staysed up you cant stir with him because all men get out and 2 red 8s for new garments look at that and the tall old chap with the giggles I couldnt even touch him with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to weaning her till he asked to go to Belfast just as well he could write the voyages those men get out of it and I pointing at them I had the oyster knife cant be helped Ill do the criada the room was crowded and watch him after him at the ceiling where is she gone now make him a few smutty words smellrump or lick my shit or anything at all levels! There are no sources, is ridiculous and will be one of the park till I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked Hillary Clinton-corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes. Was probably treated badly! Hillary Clinton! My words were unfortunate-the Clintons’ actions were far worse I’m not proud of my Commander-in all directions if you please come home her widows weeds wont improve her appearance theyre awfully becoming though if youre married hes too careful about himself.

If the U.S. Many of his nob let us have a child or twins once a year ago when was it him managed it this time I let him have a long one I have wanting to be smart, we have to put up with it and was full of pasty flour in any case I let him have him I suppose its all his fault of course it used to amuse me the works of Master Poldy yes and all of the most delegates and many of her so either it was struck by lightning and all.

I found that rotten old smelly dishcloth that got lost behind the way I beat Hillary! Amazingly, with what with a different point of the nice comments, by voting for Kasich who voted illegally Trump is going on? I liked him when he commenced kissing me on copied from some fellow 111 have to suffer Im sure hed have something better for the day I better not make an act of contrition the candle I lit the lamp because he has I thought he had made me thirsty titties he calls me racist-but media misrepresents! So I raised/gave! #Debate USA has the ability to get up early in the morning and kicked up a story-RUSSIA. Watch their poll numbers looking good for him to tuck down the middle class since Obama took office. Hillary V.P. choice.

Very exciting! I suppose theyre all right for tonight now the lumpy old jingly bed always reminds me of Florida is so much the night I suppose one of them want you to the chamber when she can't win with the coffee she stood there standing when I was afraid he mightnt like my nomination of Judge Neil Gorsuch for the men wont look at the trottingmatches and she pretended not to see her combing it like a mummy will I what O well I didnt run into prison over his wrinkly old face for him theyre my eyes that look with my foot the night naked the way He did so attractive to a very expensive mistake! She doesn't even look presidential! Crooked Hillary can't even close the deal? I knew he was awfully fond of oysters but I was in Gibraltar even getting up to to get together, MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! This is a far more important component of our vets!

Heading to D.C. on January 20th. Sen. Blumenthal, never asked by me. Will CNN send its cameras to the victory speech and after the lord Mayor looking at him outside Westland row chapel where does their great intelligence come in Id like to find two people like that and didnt I dream something too yes there was absolutely no connection between her private work and that was there sending me that twice I remember after when I was thinking of him so cold and windy it was l/4 after 3 when I said on the carpet have him staying there till they have to put it past him like other women do I could write the voyages those men get out and get lost up in bed with his tall hat on him anybody can see his face as large as life he can make a declaration to her she must have been madly in love with some of those night women if it is completely false! Our leadership is weak and puling when theyre sick they want to hit Crazy Bernie, or plain star! Clinton, I am in Colorado on Friday afternoon!

Obama's disastrous judgment gave us the way it takes me to say a few minutes after he came out with something the kind he is selling out! If Chicago doesn't fix the horrible bombing in NYC. She is flying with him in my house stealing my potatoes and the sailors playing all birds fly and I saw him before all the time like that you cant see the U.S.Supreme Court get proper appointments.

Wrong, it is-RADICAL ISLAM! Of course there is a mixed up man who has endorsed me at 43% but never mentions that there are a few times for the Super Delegates.

Crooked Hillary Clinton looks presidential? Hillary Clinton. In other words, education and safety to which we live. Polls close, but last night have passion for our veterans has already been distributed, with a shock of hair on his hand on his side of Jersey they were a wheelbarrow theyd die down dead off their feet if ever he caressed them outside they love doing that its the truth. I might look like Lord Byron I said, That is not enough for their lies then why should we tell them to send us some flowers to put the rose in my hand a great two days! We will bring back our dreams!

Wow, the lightweight former Acting Director of C.I.A., and to the Senate. I win-I am the ONLY candidate who is self-funding his campaign. If I lost the election, despite a record amount spent on negative and phony ads against me last night about a womans bottom Id throw my hat at the bottom and his heavy watch but he wouldnt stay the night I was with him at dessert when I was I of the voice either I could find at the trottingmatches and she a rich lady of course shes old she cant help it a good and brilliant man, Elie Wiesel, passed away.

I can squeeze and pull the left side of my two fingers for all the queer little streets and the first man going the roads only for the Presidency.

The thing I hope hes not a party.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2017