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noladyme · 4 years

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The Crown Princess of Charming - Part 1

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. This Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

This story is obviously non-canon. It will include characters from multiple seasons; some of them having never met on the show. In this universe, Tara didn’t come back from Chicago. I’ve done this to get the story I wanted.

I’ve also decided to give the protagonist a name in this story. I hope you’ll enjoy reading it.

“Move, you goddamn piece of shit!”. My car had stalled just a few yards before a sign that read Welcome to Charming – our name says it all. So far it hadn’t been very charming at all. Multiple cars were passing me and blaring their horns. “Do you think I just decided to park here?”, I yelled at a white Honda, with a blonde behind the wheel. She gave me the finger in response. “Shit!”.

I heard a roar of engines behind me; and a leather clad man on a motorbike pulled up next to my window. “You found a hell of a place to break down, luv’”, he said, with a Scottish drawl. “Yeah, thanks. I hadn’t noticed”, I sneered. “Pardon me, I was just stating facts”, he smirked. I frowned. “Sorry. I’ve just had a long ass drive”, I mumbled. “Mind if we take a look at it?”, he asked. I gestured for him to go ahead; and stepped out of the tired, beat up car; that had been my home for the last 4 days – driving from Chicago, to my new home in the town I’d chosen by its name alone. Charming.

I needed something charming at this point in my life – the last few years having been chaos – so I’d thrown everything to the wind; and had basically run away from the city, when I’d applied for, and been offered a job at Charming Middle School.

Behind my car, two more mc’s were parked – one of them a tall bearded man who sent me a friendly smile; and the other a blonde, lean guy, wearing a white t-shirt and white sneakers. Interesting choice for riding a motorcycle, I thought. All three men had the same patch on their backs – a skull-headed reaper. The writing said Sons of Anarchy – California.

The scot had opened my hood, and was looking into the steaming entrails of my car. He let out a long whistle. “When was the last time you checked our oil, luv’?”. I decided to ignore his choice of nickname for me. “I have no idea. I just bought it a week ago; haven’t really done anything but drive it”. He smiled and shook his head. “Jackie!”, he called. The blonde man looked up; and took of his sunglasses – revealing a pair of piercing baby blues. “We’re gonna need the tow-truck”.

The blonde got off his bike, and joined the scot at the front of the car. “Shit”. He drew out the word, ending it with a full-on laugh. “Darlin’, you’ve killed it”. I sighed. “Great…”. “Were you going far?”, he asked. “Charming was my destination; but I didn’t even make it past the sign”. I ran my hand through my hair. “Shit!”.

Blonde guy called out to the bearded biker. “Ope! Call TM. Get Rat out here with the tow”. “We can’t leave her here, on the side of the road”, the third man answered. Blondie chewed his lip. “You up for a ride?”, he asked me. I was caught off guard. “What?”, I asked. “We’ll get your car back to our shop. You can wait there for it; and figure out your next step”. I shrugged. “Yeah, why the hell not”.

Blondie walked up to me and stuck out his hand. “I’m Jackson. Scottie here is Chibs; and the kind man calling a tow-truck for you, is Opie”. I took his hand and shook it. His grab on mine was firm, but gentle. “I’m Cat”, I said cautiously. He smiled brightly at me; a glint to his eyes that made me blush slightly. “Welcome to Charming”, he said. “Now, come on”.

He handed me his own helmet; and got on his bike; patting the seat behind him. I grabbed my purse from the front seat; leaving my keys on the left front wheel. Welcome to Charming, indeed, I thought, and got on Jacksons bike with him, looking for something to grab on to “You’re gonna have to hold on to me, Cat”, Jackson smirked. I put my hands on his waist – noticing his firm and muscular frame – and he started up the bike. The force of the engine between my legs made me jump a little; and I heard Jackson chuckle in front of me. “Don’t worry, I got you”. He revved the engine, and we rode in to town.

—

We drove into a big lot about 10 minutes later. I noticed a large amount of motorcycles; and more bikers clad in leather. They all wore the same patch as the three men I’d just met – though some said Nevada. There were two large buildings; one was an auto shop – Teller Morrow – and the other seemed to be some sort of a clubhouse.

Jackson halted his bike at the end of the line of motorcycles; seemingly a spot reserved for him. I climbed off, almost stumbling; and he grabbed my hand to steady me. “You good?”, he asked. I nodded.

A tall middle-aged woman, with an amazing rack, came out of the office of the auto shop. “Jax; Clays been looking for you”, she said. Jackson smirked, and backed his bike into his spot. “What else is new?”, he said. The woman kissed his cheek. “I’m picking up the kid in a few. You need anything at home?”. “Milk. And coffee”, Jackson answered. He looked towards me. “Ma; this is Cat. Her car stalled just by the edge of town”. The woman looked at me; her eyes enquiring, but mostly friendly. “The one Rat and Juice went out for?”. Jackson nodded.

She shook my hand. “Gemma Teller”, she said. “Cat Rose”, I smiled. “You’re the new teacher down at the middle-school”, she said – more a statement than a question. I nodded. “Yeah, I am. How’d you know?”. “Gem knows everything”, the biker named Chibs said; and kissed Gemma’s cheek. “Hi, mom”.

I chuckled. “You seem a little too young to be his mom”. “Around here, I’m everyone’s mom”, she answered. “Though my only biological kid, is the cheeky blonde you rode bitch with”. I took that as meaning Jax was her son. The cheeky blonde sent me a smile. “Gemma will take care of you from here on”, he said. “See you around, teach’”. I smiled in return; and Jackson walked towards the clubhouse.

I followed Gemma into her office. “What’s the Sons of Anarchy?”, I asked. “Sweetheart, stick around long enough, you’ll find out”, she said. “Coffee?”. “Yeah, thanks”, I smiled.

I didn’t see any of my new biker friends the rest of the day; as my car arrived not long after we did. A mohawked Latino named Juice, of all things; informed me that my cooler was shot; and I needed a completely new starter. None of this made any sense to me; as I didn’t know anything about engines – but looking at the costs of repairs needed to have the vehicle function again; I decided to sell it for scrap.

“Too bad, honey”, Gemma said. “I had one of those as a teenager”. “You wanna buy it?”, I grinned. “I wouldn’t be caught dead in it”, she answered, and lit a cigarette; offering me one. I accepted. “Juice; is Tig still selling his old chevy?”. “Yeah, he hasn’t gotten a buyer yet. I think it’s ‘cuz it smells like wet dog”. I shook my head. “I won’t be able to afford it; with or without the smell”. Gemma winked at me. “I’ll get a you a good deal; and you can make payments”. I smiled. “I’m gonna like this town”. “We all do”, she smiled back.

—

Gemma gave me a ride to the motel I was going to stay at, until I found a new place. I got my four boxes and two suitcases out of her trunk and backseat; thanking her for all her help. “It’s me who should be thanking you. The school had been looking for a good arts teacher for over a year”. “I’m taking over 6’th and 7’th grade English as well”, I said. She laughed. “Mrs. Bloom finally decided to retire, huh?”, she said. “She taught both me and Jackson”. “Wow…”, I grimaced. “I’m not that old”, she said. “That’s not…”, I began. “Just pulling your leg sweetheart”, she smiled. “See you around”. She drove off, and left me to settle in to my new temporary home.

I spent the evening scanning the newspaper for cheap rentals. Money was scarce; but I knew the motel needed to be short term – especially after noticing the thin walls inability to hide the sounds of my neighbors having kinky sex. Some woman kept screaming Yes, Daddy!; making it difficult to concentrate on my apartment-hunting .

In the evening; after ordering a pizza; I decided to take a shower. I let the water run for a bit; before stepping in – trying to ignore the metallic smell of it. Washing 4 days of roadtripping off my body; I finally felt clean enough to face my new situation.

I’d left Chicago in a hurry; leaving my furniture, and only bringing my most cherished belongings. I wanted to get as far away from the city as possible; but a ticket to Hawaii was out of the question on my teachers’ salary – and I wasn’t ready to go back to dancing at clubs. Most of my last cash had been spent on the now dead Ford; that I’d sold for scrap through TM.

Chicago wasn’t my home town; but I’d thought it was the place for me. I’d been proven wrong, when a relationship had gone wrong. Very wrong. I’d needed to get away from the guy in question; as his possessive nature throughout our relationship had ended up scaring me. Trying to get a restraining order hadn’t worked due to his own contacts within the court-system. I wanted a new life. Maybe Charming could be the base for that.

Stepping out of the shower; I wrapped myself in a towel. There was a knock on the door, and I went to open it. Outside stood Jackson; a grin the size of the county on his handsome face. “You’re not pizza…”, I said. “Not the last time I checked”, he chuckled. “You left behind some paperwork at TM”. I looked down at my lack of clothing. “I should get dressed”, I smiled. “Come on in. Sorry about the mess”. He stepped inside. “It’s fine, darlin’. You should see my place”.

I grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms, and a tank top from an open suitcase; and went into the bathroom. “Do you usually order pizza in just a towel?”, he called after me. “Only if the delivery-guy is really cute”, I called back. Shit… now you’re flirting with the biker. Good one, Cat. “I’ll have to change professions”, I heard him mutter.

I stepped back into the room, fully dressed. “What’s the paperwork?”, I asked. He handed me an envelope. “Just a signoff for the scrapping of the car”, he said. “It’s too bad. My mom had one of those back in the day”. “She told me”, I smiled. “Coffee?” He smiled. “Nah, sorry, I gotta run again”. “Too bad”, I said. Dammit! Stop, you idiot.

He chuckled. “It’s good to have some fresh blood in town. I hear you’re starting at the school. You’ll be teaching one of Opie’s kids. Ellie – sweet kid”. I signed the papers he’d handed me, and gave them back. “I’ll remember to give her good grades”, I said. “Yeah…”, he answered sadly. “She’s been through it. Her and Kenny both. Their mom died a year back”. “I’m sorry to hear that”, I answered earnestly. “Donna was a good mom. And a good old lady”, he said. “What’s that?”, I asked. “An old lady? Shit, you are new in town”, he smirked. I shrugged. “Just not used to biker lingo”, I winked. “I’ll have to get you used to it, then…”, he said with a smile. I chewed my lip, a rush of heat going through my body.

He remembered himself. “The car – the one you’re buying”, he said. “Tig will be down at the shop tomorrow night. You can pick up the keys then”. I exhaled; trying to calm down my budding crush on the gorgeous man in front of me. “Thanks. I’ll be there. 7 pm good?”. “We should be done with church by then”, he said. “Tomorrow’s not Sunday”, I answered. He chuckled. “Not that kind of church”. I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Biker lingo…”, I said. “Biker lingo”, he smirked.

We stood there for a while, both unsure what to say; before Jax broke the silence. “Tomorrow; it’s Gemma’s birthday. There’s gonna be a party at the clubhouse”, he said cautiously. “If you wanna stick around for a while…”. “Maybe”, I smiled.

“Yes Daddy! Slap that ass!”, we heard from next door. We both laughed. “If I’m not mistaken; Tig might be right next door. But it’s probably not a good time to disturb him”, Jackson said. “I’ll wait”, I agreed. “See you tomorrow?”. “I’m looking forward to it”, Jackson winked; and walked out the door; giving me a final grin; before closing it behind him.

Cat. You can’t have sex with the biker, I told myself. But the warm sensation streaming though me, told me I’d probably have a problem sticking to that, if I had the opportunity.

—

The next day I slept in; enjoying the feeling of being in an actual bed for the first time in days. I did some light shopping for groceries – the fridge in my motel room not being very big. The people I met seemed friendly enough, though a bit standoffish. I figured it was because I was new in town.

Walking back towards the motel; a group of bikers rode by – one of them being Opie. He lifted a hand in a wave at me. I noticed that the bikes were ridden almost in a procession; with a leader in front; and everyone else keeping to their assigned position in the group. It was led by a grey-haired man with a prominent jaw. He looked at me, and nodded. I nodded back.

Back in my room, I had a light lunch; and decided to figure out what the hell one wore for a birthday party at a biker club. I figured some skinny jeans and an off the shoulder, black t-shirt would have to do. Putting on my favorite necklace – a silvery hand with an eye in the middle; a Hamsa symbol – I let my hair hang lose; and put on a little makeup. Black cat eye; and red lips. It usually did the trick. You’re actually dressing up for the biker now, I smirked at myself.

I was early; so, I tracked down a coffee shop to sit and read a book. My shoulder bag usually had at least one volume in it. This week, it was American Gods, by Neil Gaiman. I was completely concentrated on my book; when suddenly Chibs and a large curly haired man stepped in to the shop. “Well, look who we have here!”, Chibs smiled. “Bobby, this is the young lady who killed her car just outside town”. I grinned. “Thanks”, I said. “I needed a reminder of my bad mechanic skills”. “I aim to serve, madam”, the scot grinned. Bobby stuck out his hand. “Welcome to town, my lady”, he said; and kissed my hand chivalrously. “Careful Bob. VP’s got his eye on this one”, Chibs said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”, I asked. “Don’t worry about it”, Bobby grinned.

I took a sip of my coffee, and shook my head. “What are you doing here?”. “Coffee run for church. It was a long night”, Chibs winked. The man behind the counter handed over some coffees to Bobby; who pulled out his wallet. “Your money’s no good here”, the barista said. Bobby nodded. “How’s your mom?”, he asked. “Much better, thanks”, the man answered and smiled. “I’ll pay you back”. “We know you’re good for it, Gary”, Chibs said. He looked at me. “See you later?”. I nodded.

The bikers left the shop; and drove off towards TM. The barista walked up to me with my check. “Welcome to town”, he said warily. “Look… Samcro; they’re a part of this town; and they do a lot of good. But they’re in to some pretty bad stuff as well. Be careful”. He didn’t wait for an answer; but just went back behind his register. I frowned, and tried to wrap my head around his words. I paid Gary, and left the shop myself.

I decided to do some light sightseeing. It was Saturday; so most of the small shops closed early; but I made my way to the middle-school that would be my new place of work the coming Monday. The trek was a bit longer than I’d anticipated; so I was glad that I had a newish car set up for me. The building wasn’t large, but I figured it was large enough for the amount of kids in the area. The look of it gave me some peace of mind. It would be an easy start, I thought. And I was looking forward to it.

—

Walking back towards TM, I stopped by a florist who was closing up. I got a nice bouquet for Gemma, and walked into the auto-shop lot. The place was bustling with people. At least 20 bikes were parked in the lot; and everywhere people were shaking hands, and grabbing wrapped presents out of their cars. The men were all clad in leather; except for a man in a sheriff’s uniform; and the women were mostly wearing miniskirts and dresses – their boobs on display as much as possible.

I didn’t recognize any faces, and felt a bit anxious, before someone grabbed my shoulder. “Hey, darlin’”, Jax was beaming at me. He leant in and kissed my cheek; his stubble and short beard scratching my chin in a delicious way. “I’m glad you made it!”. “Yeah, me too”, I smiled. He took my hand, holding it confidently. “Come on. I’ll introduce you”.

We walked in to the clubhouse. It smelled like motor oil and whiskey, and the air was heavy with smoke. It should have put me off; but I was enjoying it. It reminded me of my former profession as a dancer, and the kind of trouble I’d gotten in to then. Jackson let go of my hand, and put his own on my lower back, leading me to the bar counter. “You remember Opie”, he said; gesturing at the tall bearded man. With his helmet off, he was now wearing a hoodie, and had a beautiful blonde on his arm. Opie shook my hand and smiled at me friendlily. “This is Lyla”, he said softly, and gestured at the woman. “Nice to meet you”, she smiled. I thought I recognized her face from somewhere, but I couldn’t make the connection. “Cat”, I smiled, and shook her hand.

Jax led me on. “Chibs and Juice, you know as well; and I’m told you already met Bobby”. The men both nodded at me. “Then there’s Happy…”. A tall menacing man sent me a warm smile. “Piney; Opies dad”; Jackson said, gesturing at an elderly man with an oxygen tank hanging from his shoulder. Jackson looked at a scrawny looking guy, and a tall heavy man standing next to him. “Those are the prospects. They don’t matter”. I scrunched my brows at him. “Trust me”, he chuckled.

We walked towards a dark-skinned, kind looking woman, holding a beautiful baby in her arms. “Hey Neeta”, Jax smiled, and took the baby from her; holding it to his chest. His face was glowing with pride. “And this is my boy. Abel”. I let the baby hold my finger, and smiled at his chubby face. “Hi, Abel”. Jacksons eyes met mine; gleaming. “Is… his mom…”, I tried – fearing the answer. “Not around”, Jax answered. “It’s better that way”, he said meaningfully. I nodded. It wasn’t the time.

Abel started fussing. Jax took a baby-blanket from a diaper-bag on a table. “Did you bring…?”, Jax said, before Neeta handed him a bottle. Jax smiled warmly in thank you. He put the bottle to Abel’s mouth. “Here you go, little dude”. He bounced the baby up and down softly. “You’re good at that”, I smiled. “My mom would have my ass, if I wasn’t”, he grinned. “Besides, he’s my little man”. I stroked a finger over the baby’s forehead. “He’s perfect”. Jax looked at me proudly. “Yeah”, he smiled.

I looked around. “Where is your mom, by the way?”. “Shit, yeah”, he said, looking at the watch on his wrist. Jackson kissed the top of Abel’s head, and handed the bottle back to Neeta. “Gemma and Clay will be here in 5”, he called into the room. “She doesn’t know why she’s here. So quiet the hell up!”. There was a rumbling of an engine outside. “Shit, they’re early!”, Bobby said. “Turn off the lights!”.

Someone hit the lights; and about ten seconds later the door opened. “Goddammit, Clay”, Gemma grumbled, as she walked in. “You promised to take me to dinner, you jerk!”.

“Surprise!”, everyone yelled; and the lights turned on again. Gemma stood, mouth agape; flanked by the grey-haired man I’d seen on the road earlier; and a black-haired man with piercing eyes, I figured was Tig. “Oh my God!”, Gemma cried out. “You assholes!”. She laughed, and began hugging the people around her. Jackson walked up to his mom; and embraced her warmly; Abel still in his arms. Gemma kissed first Jackson; and then the baby, taking him from Jax’s arms. “You guys are dicks”, she said; happy tears in her eyes. The grey-haired man – Clay – put his arm around her waist, and kissed her warmly. “Happy birthday, baby”, he said. “At least you remembered it this year”, Gemma pouted playfully at him.

She looked towards me, a sense of wonder in her eyes. I smiled, and mouthed happy birthday. She mouthed me a thank you in response; followed by a warm smile. For a second her eyes shifted from me to Jackson, and she narrowed her eyes at him; whispering something in his ear. He laughed in response, and looked at me, biting his lip. He nodded at his mom, and walked back to me.

“Do you want a drink?”, he asked. “Please”, I said, smiling nervously. “Don’t worry, babe, you’re here with me”. I laughed. “Maybe that’s why I’m worried”. He winked at me. “In that case, you should be worried. Word around the street is, I’m dangerous”. He kissed my cheek again, and put his arm around me. “Rat, get this lady a beer”. The scrawny prospect handed over a cold bottle, and I took a welcome sip of it.

Opie joined us. “You’re teaching my kid this year”, he said. “Yeah, Jackson told me”, I answered. The tall man looked a bit uncomfortable. “She’s been having some issues… It’s been messing with her schoolwork”. I smiled comfortingly. “Don’t worry, I won’t be a hard-ass”, I said. Opie smiled softly. “Thanks”, he muttered.

Jax looked at his friend. “I told Cat about Donna”, he said. Opie nodded and met my eyes. “So you get it”, he said. “I do”, I said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help”. Opies expression warmed. “Thanks”, he said. “Cheers”, he said, raising his bottle at me. We clinked our beers, and both took a sip.

Opie looked meaningfully at Jax. “We got that thing, brother”, he muttered. Jackson frowned slightly, and looked at me. “I need to do some business”, he said, and put a strand of hair behind my ear. “Be back in a bit”. He walked off with Opie, leaving me to sit on a stool by the bar.

The black-haired man walked up next to me. “I hear you’re in need of a car”, he said, accepting a beer from the larger prospect. “I’m Tig”. “Cat”, I answered. “I know”, he winked at me. “It’s a piece of shit old chevy, but it’s better than the one you came to town in”. “Anything is better than that”, I laughed. He handed me a set of keys. “80 a month for a year work for you?”, he said. “That’s cheap”, I said, frowning slightly. “We take care of our own”, Tig said, and patted my shoulder. “By the way; if you get sick of the VP, let me know”, he smirked. I laughed again. “Sure, Daddy”, I grinned. “So the was you, next door”, he chuckled. I shrugged, and nodded.

Juice stepped up to stand on the other side of me. “Hey”, he said, giving me a crooked smile, and a lifted brow. Tig tapped him over the head. “Hands of, Juicy!”, he said. “Jax territory”. The young biker took a step away from me. “Sorry”, he laughed nervously. I shook my head, laughing. “This place is weird”, I said. “Welcome to town”, Tig said; and clinked his bottle to mine, taking a sip of beer. I joined him in the drink. We took a shot of whiskey together, before Tig’s attention went to a busty brunette in the corner. “Excuse me”, he muttered; and sauntered off, leaving me alone again.

I decided to look for a friendly face in the crowd, being a bit uncomfortable on my own. Jax hadn’t come back for his business yet, and I was worried he’d leave me alone all night. Lyla was standing with another woman, looking like they were gossiping about something. She caught my eye and waved me over. “How are you holding up?”, she asked. The other woman walked off; climbing on to Happy’s lap, where he was sitting on a couch. “Uhm…”, I began. “I just got in to town, and I’m already having drinks with the local biker gang. I’d say I’m a little out of my comfort zone”. She smiled friendlily at me. “You’ve already bagged the vice president. You’re doing just fine”, she said. “I haven’t bagged anyone”, I smiled. “He’s known you for 2 days, and already invited you to his mom’s birthday. I’d say you’re a bit more than some crow-eater”, Lyla responded.

I took another sip of my beer. “What’s a crow-eater?”. Lyla chuckled. “Ok, quick lowdown on the women in the club”, she began. “Most of the women in here, are what we call crow-eaters. They hang around the club, make the men feel good about themselves… you know”. “An easy lay”, I muttered. “Yeah”, Lyla smiled. “Some of us are what you’d call old ladies. We’re the ones who have locked our men down. See this…”. She showed me a tattoo of a flying crow on her shoulder. “This means no one but Opie touches me”. “Doesn’t it feel weird to be… marked, like that?”. I grimaced. “Sorry… I didn’t mean…”. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I get it”, Lyla responded. “This is just my way of showing everyone around me that I belong to Opie; but also, that Opie belongs to me”.

She smiled, and took my hand, squeezing it. “You seem nice, so I’ll let you in on a secret. This life… it’s not easy; but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love Opie – and his kids. He takes care of me and my boy”. She looked at me meaningfully. “But if you’re unsure about whether this is your idea of a good life; you should walk away. I mean that in the nicest way. Please don’t take it as anything else”. I gave her a crooked smile. “I’ll take it a day at a time”. She nodded.

A hand grabbed mine. Jax was standing next to me. “Hey”, he said softly. “Come say hi to my mom”. I followed him over to Gemma. “Hey sweetheart”, she said. “Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful”. “You’re welcome”, I smiled. “This is my husband, Clay”, she said, and the man at her side shook my hand. His eyes were deep and menacing; and I was unsure whether to be afraid of him or respect him. “Welcome to town, teach’”, he said. “Thanks. It’s been good so far”. Clay nodded at me, and looked at Jax. “Did you finish that business?”. Jackson clenched his jaw. “It’s done”, he said. “I made the call”. “Good”, Clay said. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t blow back on us”.

Gemma patted his chest. “No club business on my birthday, baby”. Clay smiled at his wife, and kissed her again. “Yes, ma’am”, he muttered. Gemma looked at Jax. “Do you need me to take the baby tonight?”. Jax looked at me, and then back at his mom. “Would you?”. “You know I love taking him”, she smiled. “Make it my birthday present”. Jackson chuckled. “Shit, I’ll take back the diamond necklace then”, he said. He took my hand. “Come on, let’s find somewhere quiet”. My breath hitched, and I followed him out of the clubhouse.

We sat down by a picnic table just outside the door. Jax had brought us a pair of freshly opened beers. “You doing ok?”, he asked earnestly. “Yeah”, I smiled. “Just … a bit out of my element”. He bit his lip and looked at me enquiringly. “What element is that?”, he asked. “I dunno… I usually don’t go to mc-parties”. He chuckled, and took my hand. “I’m glad you’re here”. “You don’t even know me”, I said quietly.

He sighed. “Tell me, then”. “What do you want to know?”, I smiled nervously. “Whatever you want to share”, he shrugged. “Why?”, I asked. He looked at me with a genuine warmth. “Because I’ve been thinking about you ever since you wrapped these hands around my waist, and it sent chills down my spine”. He took my other hand, linking his fingers with mine. “Where did you come from?”.

I didn’t know how much to tell him. I was still mentally sore from my ordeal with the guy in Chicago – but his serious expression made me trust him. “Chicago”, I said. “I was a teacher there as well. It didn’t work out…”. “Why?”. I sighed. “The city can wear a girl down”, I smiled theatrically. “And there was… a guy. He didn’t know how to take no for an answer”. Jacksons jaw clenched. “What’d he do to you?”, he almost growled “At first he was fine. We had a few dates, before he suddenly proclaimed his love for me”. “You didn’t feel the same way?”, Jax asked. “No. I mean; back then, he was friendly, had a steady job… He saw himself as a catch; and I guess he was. But I just didn’t care about him like that. He was… possessive. I tried to call it off, but he acted like I’d never said anything, and continued dropping by at my school; sending me flowers; and showing up at my apartment at all hours of the day”. Jackson bit his lip. “Sorry… I guess you’re off men for a while”, he said, and met my eyes again. I smiled. “No. Just him”. “Good to know”, he muttered. “But why didn’t you get a restraining order?”.

I sighed again. “I tried… he has connections. When he didn’t like my way of handling things, he let the word spread in the school council that I had an issue with drugs”. Jax shook his head angrily. “Asshole”. “Yeah”, I agreed. “I managed to get the drug accusations of my record – but it was too late, and I was fired”. “So you came to Charming”. I nodded. “I looked at names of towns on the west coast; and Charming seemed promising”, I smiled. “There was an opening as a teacher the elementary school; so I applied – and they must have been desperate, ‘cuz they gave me the position with just a phone interview”.

He squeezed my hands again. “I’m glad you’re here”. “Me too”, I muttered.

Jax put his hand on my cheek, and stroked my temple. “So if you’re not off men… mind if I give it a shot?”. I bit my lip, trying to stifle a smile, and shook my head.

He leant in, and stroked his nose against mine. Our lips brushed each other for a second; and he kissed me. I parted my lips slightly, and the tip of his tongue met mine. He put his hand on my lower back, pulling me closer to him. He smelled like leather and some musky cologne; a warm smell that fit him perfectly – and his kiss tasted like the beer he’d been drinking, and mint chewing gum.

He exhaled deeply and pulled back a bit. “Do you want to get out of here?”, he asked softly. My body was screaming yes, but I was desperately trying to control myself. “Jax… I just moved into town. We’ve known each other for 5 minutes… I don’t think…”. “I get it”, he smiled. “I’m not expecting you to jump in to bed with me. But I do want to see you again”. “I’d like that”, I smiled.

Our lips met again. “You taste like… pancakes”, he smiled. “Is that good?”, I smiled. “It’s perfect”, he said against my lips, kissing me deeply one more time.

The door opened, and Juice stepped outside with a ginger girl. “Shit, sorry”, he smiled. “It’s fine, Juice, the table is yours. Just clean it up afterwards”, Jackson smiled. “Come on”, he said to me, pulling me with him.

“I think it’s time for me to go home”, I said softly. He looked at me with a kind smile. “You want a ride?”. I jingled the keys in my pocket. “I got a new car; remember?”. Jax groaned. “Shit; I would have loved to have these legs wrapped around me, in one way or another”. He slid a hand over my thigh; squeezing them gently.

Juice looked impatient; and Jax took my hand – leading me over to a black, classic looking Chevrolet. “Wow…”, I said. “I popped an air freshener in there for you. It had a pretty gnarly smell”, Jax chuckled. “Thanks”, I smiled, and looked at him warmly.

Getting into the car – immediately thanking Jax an extra time for the air freshener; as it was needed – I rolled down the window. “Thanks for inviting me”, I smiled at the blonde man. Jax took the hand I had resting in the window-opening, and squeezed it – winking at me. His face suddenly dropped. “Shit, Cat. I didn’t get your number…”. I grinned, and rattled of my digits, and he punched the number into a flip phone from his pocket. Who uses flip phones anymore?

Jax leant in, and planted a final soft kiss against my lips. “Bye”, he whispered, and bit his lower lip. I smiled and started up the engine. My new car purred, and I had a wide smile on my face, as I left the lot – sending a final look towards the picnic table, where Juice was face deep in the red-haired girls cleavage.

Welcome to Charming, I grinned to myself, and drove off.

—

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julesnjd · 3 years

Text

rēˈbərth -- Mason

Aurora, Stella, and Mason left the Conway University area around eight in the morning with the following in the trunk of Stella’s Chevy Chevelle: ten deer bones sitting in a bag of water, a large Taco Bell cup taped shut and full of blood from a pregnant dog, one plastic tupperware container of freshwater pearl oysters, a bottle of red wine, and a bottle of olive oil, three plastic bags full of herb sprigs they’d tied last night, and various sizes of metal bowls and multiple different kinds of knives. It was like they were going to record the weirdest outdoor cooking video ever. Aurora Yamamoto, a Japanese trickster demon with an air of casual indifference sat in the passenger seat. Stella, a vampire, drove while tapping her toes against the gas pedal in time with the classic rock blaring from the radio. Mason, the witch, hid herself in a hoodie in the backseat like she didn’t want to be there despite this whole thing being her idea.

Two weeks ago, Juliet Hill, Mason’s roommate-slash-almost-girlfriend and everyone’s friend, was found face up in the lake on their college campus. It had been ruled a suicide. Her death had left Mason a mess. She’d gone so deep into her grief that she could hardly even say Juliet’s name. It still took a second to get it out from between her teeth.

Mason had sprayed the hoodie, the one Juliet loved most of all her clothes that represented some numetal band she loved, with some of Juliet’s lavender perfume before they left Stella’s apartment. It smelled like her. She couldn’t stop holding the sleeves against her nose. There were still a few blonde hairs strewn around on the hoodie that Mason couldn’t bring herself to remove either. She was also wearing the Saint Monica College sweatpants Juliet always stole from her. Both of these things would go on Juliet’s body as soon as she was back with them. If she was back with them.

She hoped to have Juliet back by dawn.

A week ago, Mason had been visited in a dream by her patron goddess, Bast. She could still hear Bast’s voice in her mind when she thought about it: “This is an imbalance, my child. I will lead you to right it.” It hadn’t been the first time Mason thought that Juliet didn’t deserve to die. She’d been thinking it from the moment it happened. Juliet was too young. She was in the middle of her redemption arc, for lack of a better term. She was turning into a better person. Of course, those had been Juliet’s own words, but it still applied. She hadn’t wanted to die anymore. She’d gone through eighteen years of being the unwanted trouble child, of ruining relationships, of suicidal thoughts, of doing other things that she had only alluded to Mason about yet, but had finally made it to a good place in her life. Of course, that was when he took her.

So Mason was going to bring her back. Well, Stella and Aurora were helping, and so was some human they hadn’t found yet. She didn’t understand why Juliet couldn’t just be friends with a human for once, still. Maybe it had something to do with the repressed siren magic that had to be in her blood, since her twin was a siren. Mason blinked and stared at the back of the car seat in front of her. What if that complicated things? What if they needed siren blood, not human blood? The spell wasn’t for a siren. What if this didn’t work because of that?

“Turn left.” The GPS voice snapped Mason back into the present. Stella and Aurora were talking back and forth in the front seat. Their voices melded with the radio commercials in Mason’s ears as soon as her eyes landed on the clay dolls in her lap. She was keeping them as close to her person as possible to continue the flow of life into the dolls. One represented Juliet. The other represented Mason. If-- After Juliet took her first breath, Mason would have to tie the dolls together and burn them in order to bind their souls. It was the only way to keep Juliet on Earth, an aspect Aurora had advised her was missing from the spell.

Mason had made the dolls by hand. They’d taken over an hour to make. She’d mixed the clay in a pot in Stella’s cheap apartment kitchen, transferred the clay to two mixing bowls, and formed each doll while thinking about the person they would represent. Juliet’s doll had hairs picked off the same sweatshirt Mason was wearing massaged into it, but otherwise it hardly represented Juliet. It was necessary for Mason to think about Juliet while forming the doll. She hadn’t given her this much thought since two weeks ago when Juliet died.

She really missed her. She missed the goofy, toothy grin Juliet would give her when she almost got caught doing something she shouldn’t be. She missed Juliet’s lavender and honey perfumes, or the scent of the green apple shampoo and conditioner Jules used in her tangled mess of curly hair. She missed trying to figure out the best way to describe the color of Juliet’s eyes. The closest she’d come was seafoam, but even that wasn’t right. They were more blue than green. She missed trying to count the freckles on Juliet’s cheeks (106 was the highest she’d gotten) while Jules rambled about something Mason didn’t know much about, like her art classes or things she’d learned in her psychology classes. She missed the tone of her voice when she was talking like that. Her ridiculous laugh that Mason had to coax out of her on the first day they met. Juliet’s hand in hers, even if their palms grew sweaty while they walked together. Juliet’s snoring and sleep talking waking Mason up at night, turned into sleepwalking the night before an exam. Singing in the car together. Everything, every moment Mason had with Juliet was flashing through her mind like she was reliving the last moments of her own life… Which she very well could have been. Nothing felt right without Juliet there too.

She looked down at the formed and dried doll in her hand, trying to hold back her tears. It was lumpy and brown, and to make it even worse it hardly even looked like a person. Her own wasn’t much better off, with her own saliva mixed into it. It looked even less like a person than Juliet’s.

They arrived in Traverse City, a tourist city on the edge of Lake Michigan, about two hours after leaving. The entire drive had seen them surrounded by trees, water, and other cars along the highway. Traverse City was Juliet’s hometown. As soon as they hit downtown, it made sense. Stella’s car coasted through the streets downtown, passing local shops, restaurants, and glimpses of the lake. People lined the sidewalks, excited to take in the summer day, some of them dressed in swimsuits and sheer cover-ups, others a bit more modest. It was easy to picture Juliet wandering these streets with her sister or friends, laughing loud, excusing herself when she inevitably bumped into someone while walking backwards. Hopefully, she’d be able to take Mason shopping there soon. Mason tried going over the Greek for the spell incantations in her head. Fuck if she knew what it meant. Aurora had translated it for her, but she could barely remember. Something about giving Juliet’s soul back.

They stopped at the rundown motel they’d booked and set everything they could need up in the room. They had lunch at a place Juliet had talked about multiple times before, where Mason ordered Juliet’s favorite burger. They went to visit her gravesite afterward.

The walk along the path from the parking spaces of the graveyard was hard. Last time Mason had been here was the funeral, where Juliet’s mother complained about how sad she was having lost her daughter all while smiling and chatting on the phone, even during the eulogy. It had disgusted even Rosaline, Juliet’s twin and their mother’s perfect daughter, to the point of shouting. Juliet would have both hated it and loved it.

The day was comfortably hot in a hoodie and sweats, which was the average of a day in late April. Mason walked alone right now, having left the others at the car after asking for some alone time with Juliet. It would help her feel closer.

When she arrived at the grave, Mason sat on the grass in front of the stone. It was already showing signs of wear. There were new flowers set in front of it, on the grass. They’d been knocked over. White roses were scattered sideways, looking just a little trampled, and the vase they’d been in was pink and black. Rosaline probably left them. They were Jules’ favorite flower and the vase was Rosa and Juliet’s favorite colors. Mason picked them up as carefully as she could, swearing softly when thorns on the first two stung her. Once the vase was upright again and all six flowers were looking better, she traced Juliet’s name with her pinky fingertip.

“You’ll be okay,” Mason whispered. “We’re going to make sure of that. I already told Mama that Stella’s coming home with me after a couple more days around Conway. She’s excited to see Stell, since they used to be friends too. Apparently they went to college together, back when Stella was in college for the first time. That’s something I’ve got to tell you about. It was weird seeing them all buddy-buddy at the funeral.” She laughed weakly. “I think Mama’ll be excited to see you. And she’ll definitely take you in. There’s no way she wouldn’t, especially after how your mom acted at your funeral. You won’t ever have to see your mom again. We’ll take care of you. My family’ll just get even bigger.” She tapped the headstone with splayed fingers. “I can’t wait to see you again, see you breathing and shit. Even if it’s weird. Even if you’re weird. I can’t tell you how many laws I’m breaking to get you here, Julesy. Supernatural and human laws. We’re getting you back tonight. No matter what. I’ll have my best friend back. We can bring more new flowers here tomorrow, too. And get you some to have for yourself.

“I’m doing the right thing by bringing you back, though, right? Stella and Aurora seem to think I’m fucked in the head. They’re indulging me and miss you, so they’re helping, but it feels weird. It feels like they’re-- They already said they’re prepping for the worst. They said they talked about how they’d take care of it if you came back wrong in some way. I didn’t even know that was a possibility. I thought you either came back or you didn’t.” She rubbed her hands together, then started plucking lightly at the tips of the grass, snapping them off with her fingernails. “I just… I wish I knew where you are. Are you in Heaven or Hell? Do those places even exist? What makes one better or worse than the other? I wish I knew so I could know if I need to help you or if I could leave you alone and you’d be happy. I feel like everything’s a fucking wish without you though. I miss you. I want you back.” She sighed weakly, staring at the gravestone and rubbing a blade of grass between her fingers. “I’m so selfish.”

Mason rubbed the headstone one more time for good luck. As she approached the lot, she caught a glimpse of someone standing in the distance, leaning against the car. He was at the car. He killed Juliet. He was going to hurt Stella and Aurora. “Hey!” Mason shouted, starting toward the car. “Get the fuck away from them!”

Andrew Roberts was standing by the car, looking at Mason like she was some bird waddling toward them instead of a powerful witch running at the guy who killed her best friend. She shoved hard at his chest, taking him to the ground and slamming her foot down on his chest hard enough to make him cough. “What the fuck is your issue?” she snapped. “I told you I didn’t need your help. I told you to fuck off. You caused this.”

The last time Mason saw Andrew, he was handing her sheets of paper he’d ripped from a book in the Conway library restricted section. He had threatened to turn her in for attempting an illegal spell if she turned him in for killing Juliet. It was the moment she’d realized Juliet was more important than getting legal justice. Mason could turn him in later, after she had Juliet back. She didn’t want him anywhere near them right now, though. He was the one who killed her for some demon named Kalos. For all she knew, he was going to fuck up their spell so Juliet was required to stay wherever she was.

“Mason!” Aurora hissed, shoes slapping the pavement of the sidewalk as she hopped off the trunk of the car. “Leave him alone. He’s helping us. Andrew, tell her.”

“Like fuck he is! We don’t need him.”

“We do!” Aurora shouted. Her voice was shrill and loud now. “Shut up and listen for once in your life!”

Mason shut up, glaring at Andrew as hard as she could. She wished she could rip his head off already. With her bare hands. They were in a cemetery. It’d be easy to bury him.

Andrew spoke, his voice quiet and trembling. He sat up now that Mason’s foot was off his chest, rubbing at his arms and pushing his long, greasy dark hair off his face. “I didn’t want to kill her. Kalos was going to kill me if I didn’t, though.” He got to his feet, carefully keeping his eyes away from everyone else’s. “I left the watcher he has on me and Aurora is keeping me hidden. I want to help. You need human blood, they just told me. I want to give it. I can spot him easier, too. And I-- She wasn’t a bad person. She doesn’t deserve his f-”

“We need him,” Aurora explained, interrupting him. “He’s the only human we have who’s willing to give the spell blood. We need him. I don’t care what vengeance you have against him right now. Isn’t bringing Juliet back a thousand times more important to you than this?”

Mason’s fingers curled into fists. Her nails dug into her palm hard enough to sting. “A million times more. This piece of shit doesn’t matter to me at all.” She looked away from him, lips pursed. “I don’t want him anywhere near any of the stuff we have prepped. He waits in the car while we get the body tonight. I don’t want him alone unless he’s in the bathroom, and even that’s got a time limit. Got it?” She looked at him. “Got it?”

Andrew nodded and Mason got in the car without another word. He sat in the backseat on the passenger side. Mason glared at him briefly, then settled for looking out the window instead. Hopefully they’d need enough human blood to bleed him out. She really hoped so.

☥☥

The night air was cool and crisp, as it usually was during the summer. It smelled like soil and decay in the cemetery. The moon was full. Mason’s power felt strong, which was astounding for the night. It was necessary. She was invoking every deity she could tonight. She was bringing life back into a corpse tonight.

Mason stopped to scratch at her neck. Mosquitoes were rampant right now, and the dirt flying up as she dug toward the casket was not helping the itch. She swore softly and kept digging. Her hands hurt at this point. The shovel they’d brought was not meant to be used for so long.

Aurora had already started her illusion. Apparently it seemed to others that they were doing a prayer circle around the grave or having a picnic, an activity that screamed "leave us alone.” Stella brought out the pry bar and sledgehammer from her trunk once Mason hit the concrete burial vault.

Everything was real. They were going to rob Juliet from her grave. Mason got out of the

grave with Stella’s help.

Mason leaned against the car, trying to ignore the pain in her hands as she watched Aurora and Stella use the sledgehammer to break the liner open, then wedge the pry bar between the nailed edges of the coffin. She held her palms out flat, facing the stars, and breathed out slowly. She started praying softly to Bast, asking her to make sure this pain didn’t cause an issue in the spell she was meant to complete. She didn’t know what else to do right now. It was pain from digging combined with pain from the thorn pricks earlier. She hadn’t told anyone yet, but the thorns had apparently embedded in her skin. They’d broken off from the roses and were painful as hell, but Mason had to work around them. Massaging them out from her skin earlier had proven a difficult but fruitful task, albeit one that left behind red marks and a dull ache spreading from her fingers to her palms.

Now that doubt was planted in her mind again. She’d doubted this entire thing two days ago, when Aurora revealed to her that she’d seen a resurrection only once before and no one had come out alive. There was a risk that Juliet wouldn’t come back normal no matter what, demon thorns involved or not. It wasn’t like resurrection spells were listed in a book of 10 Things Every Witch Should Know! or anything. They were illegal as hell and involved some illegal things, both human and supernatural. It went against everything Mason was for, yet here she was, doing this.

Juliet’s death had really fucked with her head, huh?

It took them a minute, but soon enough Mason heard a loud, “Holy fuck, that reeks!” from Stella, followed by Aurora’s high pitched giggling.

Things were going to be alright. They had to be.

She wandered away from the car after they lifted Juliet’s body out of the hole wrapped in a sheet. They needed to be careful with her and keep her as still as possible. They didn’t want to risk hurting her too much. It wasn’t like Mason couldn’t heal whatever broken limbs or whatever happened, but it wouldn’t work on a dead body. She’d have to bring Juliet back, bind their souls, then use her remaining energy to heal whatever happened to her. It wouldn’t be pretty. That much energy, actually, could kill Mason, and that would ruin the whole plan. It was beyond risky.

Andrew got out of the car to open the trunk when Stella and Aurora gathered up the ends of the sheet Juliet was wrapped in and lifted her. They settled her in the trunk and Aurora and Stella drove her back to the motel alone, leaving Andrew and Mason to fill the grave and replace the sod.

While they were gone, Andrew filled the grave again for Mason. She couldn’t move her hands very well. He’d definitely noticed her stiffness, because he immediately started on it without question. She watched him quietly at first, then sighed and sat down on the edge of the grave. Her feet dangled just a little down toward the cracked concrete burial vault and coffin. He glanced up at her for a second as he pushed greasy hair out of his eyes, then looked back at the dirt he was pushing into the empty grave. Mason watched him for a minute, then sighed. Silence was awkward. “Why would you kill all those people? If I were you, I’d’ve killed myself before killing them.”

Andrew stared at her for a second. The shovel in his hand was steady as he stared, then he nodded once. “I want to stay alive,” he admitted. “It’s a better life than the one I was living before.”

Mason stared at him. “I’d rather be dead than know I’m putting someone through this pain.”

“The only people close to me who’ve died deserved it.” Andrew shoved some more dirt into the hole, then stuck the tip of the shovel into the grass. He looked up to meet her eyes. His gaze was always so emotionless. “I didn’t know Juliet was so close to all of you until it was too late. This is the first time I’m dealing with this.”

“Does it make you want to stop?”

Andrew was silent.

Maybe it was just something Mason would never be able to understand.

Mason stared at the dirt as he tossed it into the grave. It made her think of Juliet’s funeral, when her dad had tossed the first handful of dirt into the grave after the vault containing the coffin was lowered. It was tradition. Death was a weird process for the living. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again to say, “I don’t know if I should be bringing her back.”

Andrew stopped transferring dirt for a minute, then sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you. The spell I gave you takes her out of a spell I completed for Kalos.” He met Mason’s eyes. His didn’t waver as he spoke. “She’s not in a good place. She needs saved.”

Mason stared right back at him, then sucked in a shaking, crisp breath once she remembered to. “Really?”

He nodded once, then went right back to placing dirt without a single word.

For some reason, Mason started thinking about how, a couple months ago Juliet had told Mason something that someone in her psychology course had told her about people lying. “Liars look into your eyes dead on when lying because society told them shifty eyes are a sign of a liar. Eyes shift around when you’re telling the truth.”

“Help me with the sod.”

☥☥☥

On their way into the motel room, Mason watched Andrew squash a pearly white maggot into the fibres of the carpet. It had probably fallen from Juliet’s body. Was she full of maggots? Mason really didn’t want to picture that. She didn’t even want to picture Juliet’s corpse at all.

Luckily, she didn’t have to. The sight was right in front of her when she followed Stella and Aurora into the bathroom, Andrew trailing between them. He stared at the body, then looked at Mason, who was slowly losing her composure. Juliet’s body was right in front of her, in a bathtub, looking worse than she’d ever even considered it could look.

Mason hadn’t expected her to look so dead. Her skin was starting to turn yellow, and there were bugs crawling across her face. Whatever makeup the mortician had put on her was caked into her face and dried out, making her lips a weird bright matte red and her eyelids a greenish-black. The dress she was buried in was covered in dirt, but had held up pretty well. It was a shame she couldn’t be wearing it. Her legs looked normal, and so did everything else. She just looked like she was sleeping in a weird position with makeup on and… Mason exhaled slowly, trying not to breathe in the stench. It was awful, like Mason’s bedroom that time she’d hidden weeks of uneaten food from her mama, but somehow worse.

“Andrew, get out,” she said quietly.

He obliged, standing within view of the bathroom door so Mason could keep an eye on him. It was a wonder how good of a sport he was being about this. It made her feel even more uneasy about believing what he’d told her at the grave.

Mason licked her lips, then looked at Stella and Aurora. “Who’s doing this? She needs to be as clean as possible.”

“Stell, you’re the one with the undead expertise,” Aurora said happily, smacking her on the shoulder.

Stella scoffed. “Maybe Mason should! She’s the one who has to spend all this time with Juliet. Plus it feels weird, I’m almost seventy and Juliet’s only, like, a couple months into eighteen. Gross. Plus Mason’s seen her like this before.”

Mason looked at Stella. “Do you want me to throw up? I can’t do it anyway, I have to be as pure as possible. Touching her would be like dying or something. It’s weird.”

Stella groaned and then sank to her knees by the tub. “Fine.”

Mason did hang out in the bathroom, though, watching Stella carefully run her hands over Juliet’s skin after using scissors to cut into the dress. Stella was doing it all with care. She rubbed water gently over Juliet’s stomach, cleaning out the autopsy scar along her chest and between her ribs. She tried to run her hands through Juliet’s hair, but the second Mason saw a clump of curls break out into Stella’s hands, she stopped her. Stella cleaned under Juliet’s fingernails gently with a dollar store toothbrush.

Mason watched her, having moved closer at this point. She stared at the dirt coming out from under the nails into the toothbrush. The dull ache in her own hands increased every time she thought about it. She could deal with the pain. It didn't matter.

Her eyes lifted up to Juliet’s face. The makeup was running down it now. Stella couldn’t rub hard enough to take it off without risking harm. What mattered was Juliet, and this wasn't going to slow her down. Nothing could slow her down now.

Andrew and Stella moved Juliet’s body back into the center of the room. While Stella cleaned Juliet’s body with Mason’s supervision, Andrew and Aurora had pushed the bed into the corner and stacked the nightstand and whatever else they could on top of it to get as much room as possible. It was a mess, and the carpet would definitely be stained, but they could hide it with the bed again. It would work out. Everything would work out.

Stella climbed up on the bed carefully to take down the smoke alarm. She knocked the batteries out of it and dropped it into the drawer of the nightstand to keep it safe. Andrew locked the door and tugged the curtains closed. Mason took out all of the sheets of paper they’d copied, scrawled all over, and drawn on. They had every single note she needed, the timing for everything. Aurora set the fire pit on the floor not too far from Mason or Juliet’s body, filled it with fire wood, and lit it.

The fire sparked to life. Mason shivered.

It was time.

Eyes closed, Mason took a deep breath, then reached forward to cut the stitches holding Juliet’s lips closed as carefully as she could with a small paring knife. Juliet’s lips parted gradually, her jaw falling slack without the pressure of the stitching keeping it tight. She followed that with the same action on the stitches holding her eyelids closed. Her eyelids fell open, exposing pink muscle, ruptured seafoam blue, and gray-white. Her eyeballs were sunken, deflated sacs of some kind of liquid. Mason’s grip on the knife handle tightened. She pried Juliet’s lips apart gently, making sure her mouth hung open wide.

After that came the hard part. Mason gestured for Stella to come close. Stella helped her break up the deer bones, using her vampire strength to snap them. They scraped out as much bone marrow as possible into one of the metal bowls they’d brought. It was hard not to think about how weird it looked. It was like a weird pink hummus. It smelled awful, though. She followed that with a generous pour of the dog blood. She then mixed the two slowly with her fingers, thinking of Juliet. She had to bring her back. This was to bring her back. Juliet’s soul mattered most of anyone’s. She finished mixing the two and reached into the container Stella had opened for her to grab an oyster. She smacked it hard on the floor, then pried open the crack she’d made with her knife. She sliced into the meat of the oyster. She cut the meat up further into pieces as small as she could, then scooped it into the mixture. The pearl fell last. Mason plucked it out and set it gently in the dip of Juliet’s collarbone. She pressed the mixture together with her fingers.

Once she was done with that, she scooped a gentle handful out of the bowl and whispered to herself as she gently smeared some of the mixture along Juliet’s sternum, between her bare breasts, between her ribs, to her navel, along the stitching of her autopsy cut. Her finger bumped along the uneven stitching as she whispered her prayer. Prayers went to Anubis, to Osiris, to Ra, to Bast, to Iris, to Zeus, to Hades, Enki, Nergal, and in general anyone who would help them purely, to bring them life, rebirth, rejuvenation, revival, resuscitation, resurrection, life, life, life. It was all Mason focused on. What she told the others to focus on.

The energy of the room amped up gradually with every prayer. Mason’s fingers glided over Juliet’s limbs with the mixture. She followed the covering of Juliet’s body with her own, smearing the paste down her forehead, along her nose, over her lips, and down to her heart. She was in one of Juliet’s bras and a pair of her sweatpants. Mason placed her entire hand into the mixture, then placed her bloody palm on her ribs over her heart as she sent out the last prayer, a repeat to Bast, begging her to give her the energy necessary to restore life.

Next came the offerings. While Mason was busy with her prayer and the mixture, Aurora poured generous amounts of wine and olive oil into cups and handed them around to everyone. Mason received hers last. She took the plastic cup in her hands, one wrapped around the curve of the cup, the other covering the opening. She was quiet for a breath before she turned the cup to the side and slowly let the mixture pour out onto the carpet of the motel. Her eyes remained closed. When the cup became weightless in her hand, she opened her eyes. There was no stain. There was no stain in front of any of them. She reached up to her ears and removed her authentic gold earrings, holding them in her palms, a piece of lavender infused chocolate between them. She stayed with them extended, palms flat, until the chocolate had melted into her palms. When she opened her eyes again, the contents of her palms were gone.

Mason stood when she was done with that. She moved to the fire, burning larger in the metal pit now. She picked up the Snoopy, holding it gently in her hands. She pressed her lips to its forehead. When she pulled away, there was a bloody lip mark on the white fur. It pained her to do this. It really did. She held the plush toy over the flames. “Juliet has kept this safe since birth. She has slept with it every night for the past eighteen years. I offer this to you, gods, as a sacrifice. Her most precious possession, for your taking.” She lowered it into the flames, setting it gently on the pile of wood. “She’s going to kill me for doing this.” She smiled slightly as she said it. She leaned over the fire and inhaled the smoke produced from burning the fabric, then breathed it out as she spoke the sacrificial incantation. Her eyes lingered briefly on Andrew, who was standing near the door, entranced as he watched the events of the spell unfold. She made herself look away from him. She couldn’t afford malice.

She turned away and grabbed a clean knife. This one was larger than the paring knife. This one was for the living.

Mason started with Stella. She held her hand out to take Stella’s. Her fingers wrapped around Stella’s wrist to hold her in place, her hand straight, palm angled down over Juliet’s gaping mouth. Mason sliced into the flesh of Stella’s palm slowly and methodically. She curled Stella’s fingers in, ignoring the pained hisses, and squeezed her hand as tightly together as she could. Blood poured out from her palm into Juliet’s mouth, onto her teeth, onto her tongue. Once she had enough, Mason let go of Stella’s hand and helped her stand. She gestured for Andrew to step forward.

Mason would be lying if she said she didn’t get some satisfaction from the ritualistic slicing into Andrew’s palm. She pushed the knife as deep as she could, slower than she had for Stella. She pushed it, tearing through his skin, his fat, his muscle, until she hit bone. He didn’t make a single sound. She curled his hand in the way she had Stella’s, holding it over Juliet’s mouth. His blood came out much faster, as he was human and his wound was deeper. She moved his wrist slowly, dragging it up to drip just slightly into Juliet’s eye sockets, then down to pour into her autopsy cut. When she was done, she helped him stand.

Now for herself. She stopped to take a breath to steel herself, then dug the blade into her palm. It sliced easily into her skin, past her own fat and muscle. She could feel the tearing. She let her blood pour into Juliet’s mouth, mixing with the human blood and vampire blood. She followed this by placing small sprigs of sage, ivy, and aloe vertically over her mouth and horizontally over her ribs. When she was done, she turned her hand so her palm hovered over Juliet’s mouth. She spoke.

“O theoí iketévoume gia ti voítheiá sas to éleós sou kai tous epaínous sou. Epistrofí psychís sto sóma kai to aíma…”

O gods we beg for your aid, your mercy and your praise. Return soul to body and blood. With life let this cavity flood.

The more Mason spoke, the more exhaustion threatened. Despite this, she could feel the energy taking over the room. The air rippled like sound waves. Her fingers prickled like they were asleep. The fire burned brighter. Mason wasn't sure if it was herself, the gods, or something else. The fire began to burn at a higher speed, crackling loud and increasing in size by the second.

Then it was gone. All that remained were crumbling white clumps of ashed out wood.

The fire grew out of control, not widening but spreading upwards, almost touching the ceiling. The windows clattered. The ground shook like there was a low-intensity earthquake happening right there in their room.

The stuff of horror movies.

This wasn't a horror movie, though.

This was going to bring Juliet back.

Mason was more sure of that than she ever had been.

She cradled Juliet's face in her palms, pulling her closer as the cheap coffee maker crashed to the floor. The glass decanter shattered. The lamp threatened to do the same, but it stayed on the dresser. The painting above the beds swung wildly on one wire, connected to the ceiling by a flimsy nail that threatened to fall out with the movement.

Mason wasn't focused on any of it at all. She was looking at Juliet. Her Juliet. The girl she loved. The one who took Mason out of her shell, brought light and life out of her. Brought life out of everyone. The one Mason felt like she'd known all her life, who deserved a life. This was an imbalance.

She was righting a wrong. That counted. She was doing it. She could feel it. She could. She felt like she was going to pass out. The pain in her palm spread to her chest. She couldn’t…

She took a deep breath, focusing on Juliet's face, ignoring everything else. One hand on her chest, over her heart. The other on her cheek. Fighting to keep chanting, the words known to heart already.

She was going to wake up. She was going to be okay. She could feel her energy.

And Aurora's energy. She hadn't realized she'd been chanting with her for the past couple minutes, reading from the pages.

She could almost see it already, Juliet’s eyes opening. Those blue eyes. Those lips turning up in a smile, dimpling in the corners. She needed to see that smile.

"Come on, Juliet. Wake up," Mason paused her chanting to whisper desperately. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep going, but she would. Until she passed out. Until.... whatever happened. She wasn't stopping. "Wake up!"

Everything stopped. The lamp finally fell onto the carpet, the light going out. The sound of glass and porcelain shattering went unnoticed. Everyone’s chests heaved as they stared at Juliet's body. Her body, lying still on the white and brown-stained bedsheet, curls spread out around her head in a blonde halo. Mason wished Juliet was on a bed of grass, not some shitty scratchy green carpet in an equally shitty motel, the moonlight shining in through the now open curtains, onto Juliet’s pale skin. Mason needed to take her tanning this summer, or else.

Movement. All they needed was one tiny movement. Miniscule. A finger lifting. A heartbeat. A flutter of eyelashes. A shoulder lifting. A muscle flexing.

A breath.

For the love of every god and goddess in existence, breathe.

That was the only thing Mason could think as she stared at Juliet’s face. It was a horrific image, the woman she loved laying there dead, mouth gaping open and full of blood, face slack, eyeless. Her eyelashes were clipped where the paring knife had knocked against them. Her hair was patchy from where Stella had pulled a clump out while cleaning her body. She was naked, covered in blood marrow, and laid out on a stained bedsheet. She looked so sad.

Maybe Mason wasn’t doing the right thing. Maybe Juliet was in Heaven and Andrew had lied to her. Maybe Mason was playing into Kalos’s wishes by bringing Juliet back. It didn’t make sense for Juliet to be in Hell, anyway. She was too perfect. She was funny, loud, confident, passionate, creative, strong, crazy out-going, and so much more that Mason could hardly think about without crying. Juliet’s soul was bright and perfect and Mason was ruining it with all her worry and need.

All she needed was for Juliet to come back. She couldn’t stop now, even though she wanted to now. Exhaustion was taking over. Doubt was taking over. She didn’t know where Juliet was. She didn’t know anything other than the fact that she needed to complete this spell, so Juliet had to breathe. If she didn’t, they could all die. It was something she’d talked about with Aurora before, when they’d discussed the one other form of the spell Aurora had seen over two hundred years ago. If they didn’t complete it, they’d all be killed.

☥☥

“Wake up!”

Mason’s fist slammed against Juliet’s chest for the third time. “Wake up!” she screamed, then shook her body. “Wake up! Breathe!”

They’d finished the spell. Everything had gone silent and still.

It had stayed that way.

It had taken around three minutes for Mason to start screaming. She’d been screaming at Juliet for the past five minutes. Her throat hurt. Tears and snot were salty in her mouth, combining themselves with the disgusting mixture of raw oyster, dog blood, and bone marrow that had been settling in on her tongue. No one else had moved yet.

She hit Juliet again. Her head lolled to the side, a stupid bowling ball of useless matter. Blood spilled from her mouth onto the sheet, as useless as her head. As useless as her corpse. As useless as the spell. It was all useless.

Stella’s hand rested on Mason’s shoulder when she went to hit Juliet’s chest again. “Mason,” she whispered.

Mason felt like her chest had been ripped open. She sucked in a shaking breath. She whispered, voice trembling as she continued the incantation again. Aurora hadn’t stopped. Stella kneeled next to her, hand tight on her shoulder.

“She’s gone, Mason.”

“No,” Mason whispered. She shook her head, then placed her hands palm down on Juliet’s chest. She pressed down on her. She went into the incantation again, pressing against Juliet’s chest. She imagined her energy flowing, seeping into Juliet’s skin. She could almost imagine filling Juliet with everything she had for her, all the memories and life Mason saw in her, all the perfection and imperfection Mason had seen from Juliet when she was alive, and even after she had died.

Pressure pressed up against Mason’s palms. Her palms rose and fell with Juliet’s chest, second by second, as air filled her lungs all over again. Hope flooded through Mason, extending from her palms. Mason kept breathing out the incantation, nails digging gently into Juliet’s skin. She could feel blood flowing. There was a heartbeat under there. There was another breath on its way.

Everything went silent again as really did she suck in another breath, even slower than the first.

Her eyes had closed. They opened just enough for Mason to see blue irises, shockingly blue compared to the black makeup still caked around them. Mason leaned over her more, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt.

“You’re alive.”

“Mason, the bond--” Aurora piped up.

Mason’s eyes widened and she nodded, grabbing the two clay dolls. She tied them together, then threw them into the burning fire pit with a loud crack, followed by a crackle as they lit up. She started removing the sprigs of herbs from Juliet’s mouth and chest. She helped her sit up, amazed by the chill of Juliet’s skin and the emotion swelling to the surface in her own. Arms flung around Juliet’s shoulders, Mason buried her head in Juliet’s neck and breathed in deep. She smelled like dirt and decay, but she had a heartbeat. She had some semblance of warmth. Why wasn’t she super warm like usual though?

Mason wrote it off fast, because she suddenly felt something flooding down her back and then wriggling. Her entire body stiffened. “What was that?” she asked.

Juliet’s voice was low, scratchy and quiet as she replied, “I threw up.”

Mason made a face of disgust. “What did you throw up?”

Stella sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “The blood. And some maggots.”

Mason whined loudly. “Gross! Gross, gross, gross!” She didn’t pull away from Juliet, though.

Juliet was alive. She was breathing, and she was smiling, and she seemed like she was laughing a little at having thrown up on Mason. She was standing in front of Mason after they got to their feet. She was showering with Mason. She was scrubbing her face clean, scrubbing everything clean… Mason couldn’t stop watching her. She was beautiful. She was alive.

They laid down together once Mason started yawning every three seconds. Stella and Aurora seemed exhausted too. Aurora left the room with Andrew, though, claiming that she didn’t want to stress Juliet out any further. Coming back to life was stressful enough without the man who killed you sleeping in the same room as you. It didn’t help that Juliet kept staring at Andrew wordlessly while everyone moved the room back to normal.

Actually, she was pretty wordless. She’d hardly spoken since coming back, which was really out of character. Mason watched her. Blonde curls were just starting to poke out of the neck of the sweatshirt by the time Mason spoke. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” Juliet replied. She left it at that as she sat down on the bed next to Mason. She looked over Mason’s face. Mason stared back, then smiled at her. She smiled back, but it was tight and closed. Jules didn’t smile like that. Her smile was supposed to be loose and dorky and toothy. It was always a grin, not a tight, closed-lipped thing.

Mason let it go, though. She was too tired to fret too much yet. She could do that tomorrow. Stella had turned out the light already. They pushed back the covers on the bed together, which made Mason giggle. They laid together, Mason’s legs wrapped around one of Juliet’s. Practically the second Mason’s eyes closed, she was asleep.

She didn’t know what time it was when she woke, but the moonlight was still coming through the curtains, so she couldn’t have been asleep that long. Mason’s hand was under Juliet’s sweatshirt, though, on her chest. The stitching was still there in Juliet’s skin. It was scratchy against the thorn pricks in Mason’s palm. She’d forgotten about those until now. She could feel Juliet’s chest rising and falling. It was insane to know she’d done this. She’d brought life back into a corpse. Into her best friend. Into the girl she loved. Juliet owed her, like, the best sex ever when they finally did that.

If they did that. If Juliet was normal. Gods, she hoped Juliet was normal. She seemed mostly normal, just missing some of that spark Mason was accustomed to. Her smile wasn’t the same toothy grin. Her voice wasn’t the same emotional voice. Her eyes didn’t have the same shine. Even her freckles didn’t seem like they were in the right spots at the right intensity. Was there even still more than 106 of them? She’d have to count later.

The shoulder under Mason’s temple shifted. She lifted her head to look at Juliet. Jules was restless. Her head tossed a bit, then her entire body went still. She wasn’t even breathing. Mason felt panic start to set in, but Juliet whispered.

“Juliet Hill is no more.” AUTHOR’S NOTE: Part 2, Juliet, is located HERE. It will provide more insight to what has happened at the end of this piece and in Juliet’s absence!

#rebirth #rēˈbərth #senior comprehensive writing #juliet hill #mason hill #rebirth pt 1 #my writing #writing #fiction #short story #these characters are my babies #i will have more of them soon!#i have them in a lot of instances...#portfolio

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defenderrosetyler · 4 years

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Searching for Distraction

Summary: A restless night leaves Dean searching for something to clear his head. Little did he know, that person, was you.

Pairing: Dean x You

Word Count: 1,601

Warnings: Drinking, cheaters, possible smut

A/N: Okay, on this blog, this is my first attempt at a One-shot like this. I want to thank so much the help of @deanwanddamons for their help in Beta & even for helping me with this lovely picture. Hope you all enjoy this & if you want me to write more like this.

Tags: @simsadventures

As Dean sat in the War Room of the bunker, he sighed. There were so many things roaming his mind. Sam had Eileen. Sure, he had girlfriends in the past. Lisa, and Cassie to name but a few. But part of Dean had always wanted to settle down and have the 'Apple Pie' life as he called it.

His Mom and Dad had done well. Up until his mother's death of course. But would he be granted the same happiness?

The need to get out of the bunker suddenly overwhelmed him, so grabbing his jacket and keys, he decided to take Baby out for a drive as he needed a drink. Sure, there was beer back at the bunker, but there weren't other distractions to help take his mind off everything, so he headed for the nearest bar.

Dean let out a contented sigh, hearing the all too familiar rumble of the 67 Chevy Impala’s engine. It was his most prized possession. Dean had basically convinced his father to purchase the damn thing. The elder Winchester let the engine rumble and idle for a moment, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts together. How long had it even been since John had made a deal with that yellow eyed bastard? Deep in the back of his mind, Dean knew that if he hadn’t, he wouldn't be alive right now.

Placing the vehicle into drive, he left the garage and drove out onto the rain slicked pavement. His mind was wandering as it did most evenings. He needed to clear his head, and he knew he could do this with a glass of bourbon in his hands. Dean would welcome the distraction of a woman in bed beside him in the skanky hotels he’d come accustomed to. He and his brother Sam.

Sam. Now he was a subject that he’d rather not think about this evening.

“Damn it.” he mutters to the empty car.

The drive was a good 15 minutes. The further away he was from the bunker, or in this case the distractions and wandering of his mind, the better he’d feel. Dean puts the car into park looking up at the bright neon sign of the bar. Stepping out of the Impala, he makes his way inside and sits at the nearest stool. Glancing up he sees a large set of breasts in his face. Normally, this would be a major turn on for him, but for reasons he couldn’t understand, he wasn’t interested.

“What can I get you hot stuff?” The blonde woman purrs as she attempts to flirt with him. Dean’s green eyes looked into the bartender's blue ones.

“Bourbon please, and leave the bottle.” He says, his voice raspy and low, his usual deep baritone. She nodded and winked. Clearly this woman knew how to flirt and more often than not, she earned tips for it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he feels someone sit beside him.

“What brings you here?” Dean asks, noticing the tear tracks on the woman’s cheeks. It was clear she’d been crying and he wanted to help her.

“Don’t flatter yourself hot stuff, I’m way out of your league.” The woman snaps, venom in her voice. The tone was full of heartbreak and sadness, yet there was an undertone of anger. Dean shakes his head and rolls his eyes at her. This was SO not what he wanted when he came to the bar. Then again, this woman seems in need of the same distractions that craves.

“How do you know if I’m out of your league, if you don’t even know me?” He says. His emerald green eyes examine her body. If this was her drinking away her sorrows due to a break up of some kind, the other man she’d been with had no idea what he’d lost. She was plus size, not the average tall skinny blonde Dean was accustomed to sleeping with, but he was intrigued.

“So, what’s your name?“ Dean asks

“Y/N” she responds with sadness in her voice.

“Well Y/N, let me at least ask this question. What brings you here at 3 am?” Dean asks, pulling his stool closer to her.

“I came home from work to find my boyfriend in bed with another man. Something he kept hidden from me while we have been dating for over the past two years.” She snaps, her voice breaking with emotion. Shit.

Dean feels as if he’s been slapped by her words. If he was in Y/N’s shoes and came in on a scene like that.

Dean clears his throat as he looks over at her and offers her a glass of the amber liquid he had. “Y/N….I’m sorry.” he says simply.

Y/N looks over at the muscular arms of the elder Winchester and raises her eyebrows at him, “Tell me Dean, what brings you here?” Y/N asks, her hair falling across her face. Giving him a similar look to what he had given her.

“Couldn’t sleep.” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t tell her about the hunts. For one thing, it was dangerous. He’d be putting Y/N in danger, the danger that seemed to follow Dean and Sam everywhere they had gone. “My job is just a little stressful and I’ve got a lot on my mind. One thing I will tell you though, is the jackass that dumped you for a guy? It’s his loss.” He pauses as he lets the amber liquid burn down his throat. “I’d consider myself lucky if I had someone like you on my arm and in my bed.”

Y/N looks at him bewildered, confused even. This man barely knew her, and yet he was basically telling her in the bluntest of terms, that he’d take her home. Normally, Y/N wasn’t up for one night stands, yet this man was willing to help her cope. Y/N clears her throat as she downed her shot as she looks over at Dean. “I um….I don’t have anywhere to stay tonight. Do you know of somewhere that I could stay? Ya know, till I get back on my feet again?”

Dean nods as he looks into Y/N eyes. He found himself lost in their color. Drawing him in. Clearing his throat, Dean pulled out his wallet and keys.

“My place isn’t too far from here but, now with both of us having indulged in this wonderful liquid, the last thing I want to do is risk your life. What my intention is for tonight,” he stands and offers her his hand, as he pulls her close to him. “Is to show you how a man should treat his girl.” Dean purrs. His tone is full of the desire and lust, his lips inching closer to hers. Damn, she smelt amazing.

The tension is broken when the flirty blonde walks back to check on them. Dean clears his throat and backs away, handing her the current fake credit card he’d applied for. Dean knew of a motel just up the road where they could crash for the night, and if Y/N was willing, he’d do something he’s never done. Bring a girl home to the bunker. The tab paid, he takes Y/N’s hand in order to begin their trip towards the small run down motel.

“You had no idea this scumbag was screwing around on you behind your back?” He asks her to break the silence once they check in. Retrieving their key, they find the door of the room. Opening the door, Dean lets out an annoyed groan. One. Fucking. Bed. Sure, Dean thinks to himself, he may get lucky, but what if she didn’t want to sleep with him? What if Y/N wanted time to herself?

“I, um….I guess I’ll be taking the sofa.” he says scratching the back of his neck. Pulling out his phone, he sent a message to Sam, letting him know what was happening. That way, his brother wouldn’t worry. But he still had a nagging doubt. Did she want to sleep with him? He wasn’t going to sleep in his jacket, so he removed it, tossing it on one of the free chairs.

Y/N sighs as she looks at the other man, her fingers laced together in front of her. Clearing her throat, Y/N decides to call out the elephant in the room. “Why do you want to sleep with me if my own ex boyfriend didn’t want to?” making Dean’s head snap up in shock and astonishment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He purrs as he steps towards her. He raises his hands to cup her cheeks and presses his forehead against hers, “I know how a woman should be treated, and the way that bastard has treated you? That isn’t it.”

His voice is soft, as if he were comforting a small child. His lips move towards hers, hovering just barely inches from them touching. Damn it, he can’t hold back anymore. Dean closes the gap between them and presses his lips to hers. They are soft, and gentle. Just like she seems to be. You can learn a lot about a person from a kiss. Dean knows that from experience, but he may have heard it from some movie he’d seen but for the life of him, couldn’t recall what it was.

It is Y/N who pulls back first to catch her breath. Her hands wrap around Dean’s waist, keeping their bodies close. Slowly, she opens her eyes. They look into Dean’s the shade of an emerald mixed with the green of the forest.

“Yes, show me how I should be treated.” Y/N whispers.

#dean x y/n #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x reader #spn imagine #sam winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural one shot

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kayliemusing · 3 years

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1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? - If you're talking about aliens or ghosts, yes lol

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? - 3. I can manage but sometimes I get unnerved, especially if I'm alone in the dark outside

3. The person you would never want to meet? - Anyone who could hurt me

4. What is your favorite word? - Wonderstruck. I also like the word 'elegance' bc I like the way it sounds.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? - cherry blossom tree

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? - 'Ew'

7. What shirt are you wearing? - I'm wearing a blue sweater

8. What do you label yourself as? - A few things: a romantic, writer, daydreamer, perfectionist, etc

9. Bright room or dark room? - Bright

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? - Heading to bed

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? - I think I liked being seventeen, but I can't really remember

12. Who told you they loved you last? - My mom probably lol

13. Your worst enemy? - My sister's abusive ex

14. What is your current desktop picture? - A forest

15. Do you like someone? - No one in my real life, but I've developed a sudden crush on Evan Peters in the last 24 hrs lmao

16. The last song you listened to? - The Last Great American Dynasty by Taylor Swift, I think

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? - My sister's ex

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? - My sister's ex

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? - Idk if I'd have a slave tbh lol

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) - My hair, I guess

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? - I'd probably look like myself, but maybe taller and obviously more masculine. I don't know what I'd do. I don't think I'd be a writer, because maybe my experience would be different. So...not sure.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? - This is weird and if anyone asks me, I'll deny it, but I can make stomach grumbling noises without opening my mouth. Honestly not hard to do, but I think I'm really good at it lmao

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? - I don't really have a unique fear. I think what I'm afraid of is normal. I'm super afraid of failure, loss, and getting older bc I feel like growing old comes with loss. Terrified of spiders and most bugs. Deep water bc I can't swim well. So...Pretty basic I think.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. - A standard PB and J.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? - I'd probably just take it to the bank and put it in my bank account, which would most likely end up going towards makeup, books, skincare or clothes.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? - Maybe NYC? Or totally the opposite and going somewhere super quiet and beautiful, like a countryside in England or France lol.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? - I feel like an angel wouldn't offer me that, but maybe a dessert wine. I'm not really a fan of alcohol so Idk what else I'd choose lol.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? - Everyone listens and loves Taylor Swift, if not, you're going to jail

29. What is your favorite expletive? - 'bitch' I think lol

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? - My laptop

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? - Probably an embarrassing moment. I would want to erase traumas but then I feel like that would actually end up messing everything up. i.e., would lead to confusion or misunderstandings about love, etc.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! - Interesting. I'm not sure what the question is, but if I could move anywhere else in the world, I'd probably move to a big city like NYC, Vancouver, or LA OR I'd go the opposite and move to a super cozy cottage in a countryside somewhere.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? - My dad

34. What was your last dream about? - Last night I had this bizarre dream that I was camping with Matthias from YouTube and he was being super mean to me lmao. Then all of a sudden I was in Calgary with my sister and we were just like wandering around.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? - I feel like you're asking if I'm a good person, to which, I think yes.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? - No

37. Have you ever built a snowman? - Yes

38. What is the color of your socks? - I'm not wearing any, but they're usually white or black.

39. What type of music do you like? - Pop, Alternative/alternative pop, folk, country, country-pop, some 80s stuff, acoustic, etc. I span through a few genres, but I think I like something with a catchy melody and good songwriting.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? - Sunrises

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? - Vanilla, bc i'm basic

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) -I don't watch football oops

43. Do you have any scars? - A few. Mostly acne scars rip, but also a big scar on my elbow from when I fell off my bike when I was a kid. I have a few chickenpox scars on my forehead that like to peak out every now and again too.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? - I already graduated High School, but I just applied to college so the plan is to be a Copy Editor and a novelist on the side.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? - That I had a flat stomach

46. Are you reliable? - Tbh no. I think I'm pretty flaky :/

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? - How did it turn out?

48. Do you hold grudges? - Yes, unfortunately

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? - Maybe like a bird and a chinchilla or a fox or something so it would be like this flying fox thing. Idk. I saw a fantasy drawing on pinterest of a bird/something-else and it was super cute.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? - I don't know actually lol

51. Are you a good liar? - No, because I get super nervous and can't make eye contact or I start smiling. Even worse, sometimes it's both.

52. How long could you go without talking? - I'm pretty quiet, so a long time. Maybe a day, but not two days lol.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? - I got a perm when I was in the sixth grade and everyone laughed at me so.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? - Yes

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? - Not well, but sometimes I like to butcher a British and Australian accent. Usually happens when I'm alone which is worse.

56. What do you like on your toast? - Usually I'll just put margarine on it or jam. If I feel like being fancy, I'll put brown sugar and cinnamon on it.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? - I probably doodled some hearts not too long ago

58. What would be you dream car? - Probably a red 1960-70s chevy convertible.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. - I talk to myself in the shower a lot which is weird but i'm just kinda processing my thoughts out loud lmao. Sometimes I'll sing or hum to myself.

60. Do you believe in aliens? - That would be a hard no.

61. Do you often read your horoscope? - No, unless it's in a fun meme like the signs as tv shows or something

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? - I have never thought about this before tbh. Maybe S? or R? or C? Idk

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? - Dragons

64. What do you think about babies? - Cute

#survey

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nazariolahela · 4 years

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Best Beloved: Chapter 6

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a PM AU I’ve been working on. It’s a bit different than my previous fic series and I’m really excited to try something new. I hope y’all enjoy it. This story is told in dual first-person narrative, from Kaia (F!MC) and Damien’s POV. The first half of this story takes place during Kaia’s freshman year and Damien’s senior year of college. The second half is two years after Kaia graduates. There will be sprinklings of canon in this fic, but we’ll try to step out of the box for the most part. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow @lady-calypso @irishwhiskys-blog @loveellamae

Synopsis: What happens when you find yourself crushing on your best friend? For years, Damien and Kaia have been friends, while secretly harboring feelings for one another. Everything changes one night after a little too much alcohol and years of pent up feelings. Can they control their emotions and salvage their friendship, or will the feelings they hold for one another destroy everything they have?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: It’s the night of the homecoming dance, and things are burning up on and off the dance floor.

Kaia

“Stop fidgeting. You’re going to mess up my hard work,” Nadia snapped as she put the finishing touches on my hair. It was the night of the Homecoming dance and the whole campus was in a festive mood. The year’s homecoming week featured a "Wizard of Oz" inspired theme, aptly titled, “There’s No Place Like Homecoming."

Judging by the lineup of activities, that statement wasn’t entirely false. The week’s festivities kicked off with a Wizard’s Festival on the Campus Green. Members of the Campus Activities Board were donned in costumes that could have been featured in the actual film. The rest of the week featured a Pep Rally, a campus scavenger hunt, and a concert featuring pop star Alyssa Griffin.

The parade was held earlier in the day, where the Homecoming Court was presented. The queen was Damien’s friend(?), senior Cecile Contreras. I recognized her from that day in the bistro. She eyed me with such disgust, if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead right then and there. The king was another senior by the name of Mikail Greene. I recall seeing him in passing on campus. He seemed nice. Damien said he was really popular with the student body.

The football game followed shortly after. The Badgers took an early lead but ultimately lost in OT. Steve had another stellar game, of course. I heard from people in the crowd how he was already drawing interest from NFL scouts as a freshman. When I asked Steve about it after the game, he brushed it off, saying he wouldn’t be draft-eligible for another two years.

“Okay! We’re all done. Now, get dressed. I want to see the finished product,” Nadia said, giving my updo a final spritz with hairspray.

I retreated to the bathroom and grabbed my homecoming dress hanging on the back of the door. I pulled the dress off the hanger and examined it. It was a low-cut, sparkly red, spaghetti strap number with a gold belt at the waist. I ran my fingers across the A-Line tulle skirt and smiled as I slipped the dress over my head, careful not to mess up my hair. Once I was dressed, I applied my makeup and took one last look at myself in the mirror. Students of Hartfeld, eat your heart out!

I swung the bathroom door open and stepped out into the shared space of our dorm. Nadia turned and gasped when she caught sight of me all dolled up.

“Ohmygods, Kaia! You look amazing!” she said, her eyes welling with tears.

“Really?” I asked, twirling around the room.

She nodded. “Whoever you’re planning on impressing tonight is going to be blown away.” She didn’t say it, but I knew she meant Damien. To be honest, I’d been upping my game in terms of my appearance lately. Ever since he told me he and Alana had been having problems, I’d been going out of my way to show him what he was missing. I put my hand on Nadia’s shoulder in a silent thanks, then moved to my room to retrieve my clutch.

Once we were ready, we exited the dorm and made our way to the parking lot. Steve’s trusty blue Chevy pickup sat in the empty space in front of our building. He and Sloane were seated on the tailgate, showing each other something on their phones. Steve looked up and a wide grin spread across his face when he noticed Nadia.

“Babe...You look...wow…” he stuttered as she wrapped her arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses. I turned towards Sloane and gave her a bright smile as she hopped off the tailgate.

“Your dress is so pretty!” I squealed motioning for her to twirl. Her dress was similar in style and material as mine but in a light blue color.

“Thanks! Yours too! You ready to go?” she said, smoothing down her skirt.

I hooked my thumb back towards Steve and Nadia. “Sure. As soon as those two come up for air.”

Sloane laughed and shouted at the kissing couple to break it up. Nadia flipped us the bird, then we all piled into the pickup and made our way towards the Sports and Activities Center, where the homecoming dance was held every year. When we pulled up in the parking lot, it looked a lot different from the first time we were here. Gone were the tailgaters; replaced with a few remaining parade floats being dismantled and students in formal attire.

We walked the sidewalk that connected the parking lot to the football stadium and activities center, noticing it temporarily painted yellow to simulate a “Yellow Brick Road.”

“Cute,” I said to myself as we made our way inside the center. The doorman took our tickets and directed us to the field house which had been transformed into The Emerald City.

“Ohmygods, Kaia! I just realized your dress reminds me of Dorothy’s shoes!” Nadia squealed, squeezing my hand.

My eyes roamed the room, taking in the magnificent job that CAB did on the decorations. A dance floor occupied the center of the room with several high-top tables scattered around it. The DJ booth was set up towards the back of the room under one of the basketball hoops. The bleachers were folded up on either side of the room to allow space for a photo booth and a bar area.

We moved through the room and found an empty table. The music from the DJ booth filled the room as dancers moved about the dance floor. A flash of black hair caught my eye and I turned to see Hayden strutting towards me. He had no business looking so good in a blue vest over a grey dress shirt and gray checkered tie. His eyes met mine and he grinned from ear to ear. When he arrived at our table, his eyes traveled the length of my body and I felt my cheeks and ears burning up.

“There’s no place like home,” he muttered under his breath and I barely caught what he said.

“What?”

“Nothing. You look amazing. Wanna dance?”

I looked over at Nadia and Steve, who were attached at the mouth. Sloane was nowhere to be found. I gnawed on my bottom lip, contemplating his offer. Damien’s words crept into my mind. You should give him a chance. Who knows? He might turn out to be a great guy. I turned back to Hayden and gave him a soft smile. “Sure. Let’s go.”

His eyes lit up as he took my hand and led me to the dance floor. Maroon 5’s “Animals” blared from the speakers as we moved together. I swayed my body to the beat, lost in the rhythm of the music. When I opened my eyes, I saw Hayden dancing, but his eyes were fixed on me. The intensity of his gaze made my skin instantly flushed. When the song came to an end, a slower track followed and I took this as my cue to grab a drink.

“You thirsty?” I asked.

He nodded and led me over to the bar. I perused the menu. Damn, no alcohol. I ordered both of us one of the signature “mocktails.” The bartender gave us our drinks and we made our way back to the table. Nadia and Steve were missing in action, but Sloane was standing there talking to a guy with auburn hair. She smiled when she saw Hayden and I approaching.

“Hey, guys! How was the dance floor?”

“Crowded,” Hayden replied, sipping his mocktail. The redhead guy whispered something in Sloane’s ear and she nodded before he walked away.

“So, who’s your friend?” I smirked at her.

“Oh, just some guy in my Spanish Comp class. Whatcha drinking?” she asked, eyeing my glass.

“It’s the signature mocktail. They’re pretty tasty. Have you tried one yet?” I said to her, holding up the multi-colored drink.

“Yeah, Derek went to grab us some.” She looked at Hayden, then back at me. Her eyes silently asked what was up between him and I. I smirked and shook my head as if to say, “tell ya later.” Derek returned shortly and the four of us fell into a comfortable conversation. He and Sloane had a class together and had been texting for a few weeks. I learned that Derek was a sophomore and a member of CAB. I complimented him on the decor, to which smiled and nodded. He finished his drink and asked her if she wanted to dance.

“Watch my drink for me?” she asked.

I nodded and smiled as Derek led her out to the dance floor, leaving Hayden and me alone. He rested his forearms on the tabletop and turned to me.

“So, you excited for midterms?”

I laughed. “Who would be excited about that?”

“Well, me for one. It means the semester’s half over.”

“Hmm...good point. I guess that’s one thing to look forward to,” I replied and took a sip of my drink.

He nodded and we fell into an awkward silence, watching the crowd. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat and spoke up. “So, I know I asked you this before, and I don’t want to come off too desperate, but I really like you, Kaia. And I know you like me too.”

My cheeks flushed. How did he know? As if he could read my thoughts, he continued. “Your cousin told me.”

Damnit, Nadia!

He smiled and continued. “Let me take you out. We don’t even have to call it a date. I just want to get to know you.” He reached across the table and took my hand in his, lightly brushing his thumb across my knuckles.

I looked down at our joined hands, then back up at him. My body reacting to the contact. Why was I acting like this? We were both single and obviously attracted to each other. What could it hurt? For some odd reason, my thoughts wandered to Damien. Jesus, what was wrong with me. He wasn’t available. It was because of him that I was hesitant to pull the trigger with Hayden. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to clear my thoughts. When I opened my eyes, Hayden was looking at me expectantly.

“Okay.”

He seemed taken aback. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay, okay. Let’s do it. Take me out. When are you free?”

A wide grin spread across his face. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Whatever you want to do,” I replied.

Something flashed in his eyes. He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of it. “I think it’s time for another dance. Don’t you?”

I nodded and let him lead me out onto the dance floor. Ariana Grande and The Weeknd’s “Love Me Harder” started playing and Hayden placed his hands on my waist as we swayed back and forth. I looped my arms around his neck and pulled him close, pressing our foreheads together.

“Kaia? Can I ask you something?” he whispered into my ear.

“Sure,” I replied.

“What changed?”

I pulled back and searched his face. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean. I’ve been asking you out for almost a month now, and you’ve been side-stepping giving me a definite answer. Don’t get me wrong. I’m so happy you finally said yes, but I’m curious what changed?”

I thought back to the conversation I had with Damien in the bistro. How I was too afraid to pursue anything with Hayden because I was still harboring feelings for him. Would I ever get over them? Maybe in time. And he would always hold a special place in my heart. But this schoolgirl crush was getting in the way of me having a life. “Honestly? I just felt like it was time I got my shit together.”

Hayden seemed to accept that answer and pulled me back against him. We danced through two more songs, laughing and talking. As the current song was coming to a close, I looked across the room and saw him. Damien. The sight of him caused my breath to catch. He looked absolutely mouth-watering in a navy blue suit. The top two buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned, giving me a glimpse of his chest.

He had his arm wrapped around Alana’s waist, but his eyes held mine with a look of pure lust mixed with jealousy. He leaned down and whispered something into Alana’s ear, never taking his eyes off mine. Hayden came up behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. Damien looked over to him, then back at me.

I was the first to break eye contact, turning to Hayden and telling him that I had to use the restroom. He nodded and headed back to our table as I made my way through the crowd to the ladies' room. I grabbed the first open stall and rushed inside, shutting the door. I leaned up against the stall door and sucked in several deep breaths. What the hells was wrong with me? I was here with another guy, but I was eye-fucking my best friend from across the room. Jesus! Get ahold of yourself, Kaia!

***

Damien

Alana and I walked into the gym hand-in-hand. The strobe lights danced across the room as some upbeat pop song poured from the speakers. We spotted Cecile and Rowan dancing together, the lights reflecting off Cecile’s Homecoming Queen crown. Alana pulled me toward one of the tables and set her clutch down on the tabletop. She scanned the room, taking in the decor.

“Well, at least it's better than last year’s theme,” she huffed.

I cringed. Last year’s homecoming theme was “Boot-Scootin’ Victory,” a western-themed event that was as cheesy as you’d expect. I’m not sure who approved that one. The entire campus looked like a scene from the movie, “Tombstone.” The dance was even worse. CAB hired a country-western band to entertain, and they played nothing but ‘90s country music for the entirety of the dance.

The most amusing thing that happened was watching the basketball team try to line-dance. A video of the team’s center riding a mechanical bull went viral, causing his draft stock to dip. Apparently, NBA scouts frown upon a 6’10” player having almost-sex with his girlfriend on the mechanical bull at the school dance.

Cecile and Rowan joined us a few minutes later at our table. Rowan and I made small talk while Cecile and Alana reenacted an episode of Project Runway, judging the dresses of our classmates. Rowan left to go grab drinks for the table, leaving me with the girls. I leaned over the table and congratulated Cecile on winning Homecoming Queen. She scowled, then muttered thanks.

I chuckled to myself. She was probably still pissed about seeing me and Kaia together at the bistro. I know she tattled to Alana right after they left. That night, Alana came to my dorm. We fought, made love, fought again, then didn’t talk for two days. I remembered Kaia’s words in the bistro when I told her about mine and Alana’s relationship troubles. This whole relationship seems really unhealthy. There’s a huge lack of trust on both sides. That’s something a break isn’t going to fix. If she only knew.

Rowan returned to the table with the drinks. I picked up the glass and eyed it skeptically as the green and yellow colors swirled together. I took a sip and turned up my nose.

“What the hells is this?”

“Some signature mocktail. Pineapple, orange and melon juice,” he said, taking a drink of his. “And it tastes like shit.”

He reached into his suit jacket and retrieved a flask, pouring what I assumed was alcohol into the cup. He turned and offered me some. I held out my drink and he dumped a splash of the clear liquid into my glass. I shook my head. “More.” He smirked and kept pouring until I motioned for him to stop. I took a drink. It was better, but not by much. I bit my tongue and chugged the drink, happy to finally have finished it off.

As Alana and Cecile continued to gossip, I spotted Nadia and some blonde kid making their way towards me. Her eyes lit up when she saw me and moved faster through the crowd. She wrapped her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug.

“Damien Elvis Nazario! Have you been avoiding me this semester?” she squealed.

I laughed. “Even if I was, you’d track me down.”

“It’s like you know me,” she replied.

I looked over her shoulder to see Alana staring at us with a scowl. I detached myself from Nadia and introduced her to Alana. The two women sized each other up in some sort of awkward standoff. After several tense moments, Nadia grabbed the arm of the guy she was with and drug him over to us. “Damien. I want you to meet Steve, my boyfriend.”

At the mention of his name, I remembered Kaia telling me about him at the frat party. “Ah, yes, Tennyson. Good game today, man. You’ve been tearing it up this season.”

He nodded and shook my hand. “Thanks, man. I know it’s still early, but I think we have a shot at the natty this year.”

The two of us talked for a few minutes before Alana wrapped her arms around me from behind and began pulling me toward the dance floor. I rolled my eyes and said my goodbyes to Nadia and Steve, then followed her. We made our way through the tables and found a spot near the edge of the crowd. A slow pop ballad played and Alana wrapped her arms around my neck. I rested my hands on her hips as we swayed to the music. As we danced, I scanned the crowd.

At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I caught a glance of her on the other side of the dance floor. Kaia. My Kaia. She looked like a goddess in that shimmery red dress. She was dancing with some tall guy with black hair. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and she started laughing. The jealousy radiated through my body. I watched her as the other guy rested his hands on her waist. I wanted to sprint across the dance floor and break both of his arms. Instead, I stood there — my arms wrapped around my girlfriend — watching my best friend dance with another man.

She looked up and locked eyes with me. Her shocked expression caused my lips to turn up in a small smile. She looked over at Alana, who was talking to some random girl. She probably introduced me, but I was too preoccupied watching Kaia to care. I glanced over at my best friend’s date, then back at her. The two of us stared at each other across the room for several moments before I felt Alana tug at my arm.

“I’m going to go grab another drink. Do you want anything?” she asked.

I leaned down, never taking my eyes off Kaia and muttered in her ear. “No, I’m good. I’m gonna go use the restroom.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alana move away. Kaia turned to her date, said something to him, then made her way through the crowd towards the doors of the gym. I waited 10 seconds, making sure Alana or none of her friends were around, then followed her. I reached the doors leading to the hallway when I saw her enter the bathroom. The alcohol began to take effect as I walked past a couple making out against the trophy case and stood outside the entrance to the bathroom.

Several minutes passed before she emerged. Her head was down, and she didn’t notice me until she nearly crashed into me.

“Holy shit! Damien!” she said, nearly toppling over. It was very reminiscent of the first day of school. I reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her. The touch of her smooth skin sent my senses into overdrive.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” I smiled. She laughed and my chest tightened. My eyes raked up and down her body. Fuck, she looked phenomenal. That dress hugged her curves. I wanted to reach out and feel the fabric between my fingers

“You here by yourself?” I asked.

“I came with Nadia, Steve, and Sloane. They’re around here somewhere.”

I noticed she didn’t mention the guy she was dancing with. Which meant she didn’t come here with him. “No date?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Technically, no.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Hayden. You remember me telling you about him, right?” she smirked. I saw the amusement in her expression. Of course, I did. I was the one who told her to go out with him.

I nodded my head. “So, you finally decided to give the poor guy a chance.”

“I did. He’s taking me out tomorrow,” she smiled and it made me jealous.

“Oh yeah? On a Sunday?” I replied sharply, the alcohol giving me courage.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. He didn’t want to wait until next weekend to see me again.” I could hear the challenge in her voice.

I shoved my hands in my pants pockets. “Hmm...that’s interesting. Usually, guys who aren't that interested take girls out on Sundays.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” she scowled.

I shrugged. “I just know that Sundays are usually the day when people wind down from the weekend and prepare for their week. So, he probably won’t be all there mentally.”

Annoyance flashed in her eyes. “I don’t know why you give a shit, Dames. You were the one who told me to go out with him. He likes me and I like him. Why is that such a big deal to you?”

“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. I mean, what do you know about this kid anyway besides his dog’s name and what classes he has?”

That seemed to piss her off even more. She stood up straight and stepped into my space. Her voice was low but held so much anger. “What the hells has gotten into you, Damien? First, you encourage me to go out with the guy. Now you’re trying to talk me out of it. You’re my best friend, not my dad. You don’t even know him, so stop judging him. The whole reason I’m going out with him is so I can get to know him. Why don’t you just back off?”

A loose strand of hair fell from her updo into her face. On instinct, I reached out and tucked it behind her ear, my palm brushing her soft cheek in the process. Her breath hitched at the contact. My eyes traveled to her mouth as she gnawed on her bottom lip. I knew my presence was making her nervous. That was her tell.

Thanks to the combination of the alcohol coursing through my body and the tension between us, I threw all inhibition out the window and leaned in to capture her mouth in a kiss. She froze for a moment, then her body melted as she gave in. A slight gasp escaped her lips as I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to me. I knew what we were doing was wrong, but damn if it felt so right. My fingers tangled in her hair and I slipped my other arm around her waist. Her lips parted slightly, allowing my tongue to dart into her mouth and massage hers. I had forgotten how good it felt to kiss her.

”Damien,” she whimpered.

My hands traveled down her back and cupped her ass. She moaned in my mouth, the sound shooting straight to my dick. I pressed my growing hard-on into her thigh. ”That's it, Kaia. Say my name.”

”Damien, please,” she said, breaking the kiss. She pressed her palms flat against my chest and shoved me back. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “You have a girlfriend.”

“And?” I replied, moving closer.

She stepped back. “You should figure your shit out with her first. I won’t be a cheater,” she huffed.

“Kaia,” I said, my voice coming out in a harsh whisper.

“I have to get back to my date.” She looked me up and down, noticing the bulge in my crotch. “You should probably do the same.” She took one last look at me before turning and stomping down the hallway back towards the dance. She stopped at the entrance to the gym and turned back to me. The intensity of her gaze made me want to march up to her and claim her in front of the whole school, but my feet were rooted to the floor. Her eyes searched mine, both of our gazes saying what our mouths couldn’t. After a few beats, she shook her head and walked back inside.

I stood there and watched the door, waiting for her to come back. When she didn’t, I sighed and made my way back to the gym. I scanned the crowd for her but gave up after a few moments. Spotting Alana at our table with Rowan and Cecile, I raked my hand through my hair and sighed before walking back to my girlfriend.

#best beloved #pm au #college au #friends to lovers #perfect match #choices fanfic #damien nazario #kaia park #damien x mc #nazariolahela fanfic

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kasdeyathebitterwoman · 4 years

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A Ninja Warrior Love Story - Part 1

Welcome back to the world of Lily and Henry! Honestly, I have no idea how I ended up deleting my old account, but I’m genuinely more upset that I had no backups of my original work. That aside, I am beginning the slow process of rewriting my original series, A Ninja Warrior Love Story. I hope you enjoy it!

Let me know of any other imagines or one-shots you’d like to see! Also, if you’d like to be added to the tag list, just send me a message!

CW: none

Word Count: 2,230

The Story: Lily is a single woman working at a parkour gym when she meets Henry Cavill. Are they meant to fall in love or is it just a one-time thing?

At 4:30 in the morning, Lily’s alarm went off. She rolled over in her small bed and smacked her alarm to turn it off. Groaning, Lily pushed herself out of bed. With two steps, she cleared the small apartment bedroom and entered the even smaller bathroom. With the efficiency of a well-known routine, Lily got dressed in simple workout clothes. She glanced in the mirror to see a tired face looking back. For the past six months, she had been working hard to earn extra income so she could afford time off and a plane ticket to see her best friend at college. So far, it wasn’t really working out, but she had been able to save some money.

Once dressed, Lily dashed out to her beat-up old truck right outside her apartment. At 4:45 am, no one was out on the roads, so she wasn’t concerned about being late for one of her three jobs. Lily worked at a gym - not just any gym though. This was a Ninja Warrior gym. About four years ago, Lily met the gym owner, Donovan, who offered her a chance to work out at his gym. He remembered her from her track days and wanted someone to open his gym in the mornings since he was, in his words, allergic to any time before nine am. Lily quickly and easily agreed and almost immediately found herself in a world of her wildest dreams. She loved working out and training on the courses there and even considered applying to be on the show one day.

Five minutes to 5 am, Lily pulled up to the Hustler Ninja gym in Taylor, Texas. Taylor was about 45 minutes outside of the DFW area. It was basically the middle of nowhere with one good Walmart, a ghosted - albeit historic - downtown square, and surprisingly a very fancy looking Hilton resort. The keys jangling in the lock, Lily opened the gym and began turning on the lights. Donovan rented the building which was incredible in size. Large enough to house two ninja warrior obstacle courses, a half rock wall in the back, a decent-sized free-weight section, and even an outdoor mini-course. The whole place was huge and everything Lily wanted in a gym. Within two months of working there, she’d been promoted to assistant manager. She was here every Monday through Friday from 5-9, then Monday through Thursday, she went to work at her uncle's barbershop. Finally, on Fridays and Saturdays, she worked at one of the three bars in town to earn as much extra income as possible.

After dropping her gym bag in the locker room, Lily stepped out into the gym and looked around. Donovan and Daniel, or The Dude, did a good job cleaning up last night. It was actually a little surprising considering they rarely did any cleaning. Lily usually spent most of her time cleaning up after everyone. Weird. Regardless, she enjoyed the reprieve and made her way to the free-weights to start a warm-up. After 15 minutes, she was ready to begin her real training. It started with the salmon ladder followed by a few balance obstacles and finally ending with a grip training on the waving board. She was enjoying herself and almost didn’t hear the front door open again. Glancing over, she saw a tall, long-haired figure striding past her towards the locker rooms.

“Morning, Dude,” she called out. The Dude smiled and waved at her and continued on to the locker rooms. A few minutes later, The Dude appeared ready to go in long shorts, a fitted t-shirt and his long hair pulled back in a low ponytail. The Dude was the only guy Lily could think that could pull off the man-tail well. He saddled up to her and watched her jump down from the wave board.

“Morning Luck,” The Dude said to her. Lily groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Can’t anyone forget about that?!” she asked, jumping down off the raised platform and stood next to him. In comparison, Lily looked relatively tiny. Where she was about 5’5” of lean muscle, The Dude was 6’4” of muscle and weight. He got his nickname from his long hair and easy-going attitude. The Dude laughed, throwing his head back a little.

“Nope, it was too adorable,” he replied, making Lily roll her eyes even harder. “So you excited about tomorrow?” he asked when he finally stopped laughing. Lily looked at him confused.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” she asked in response to his question. The Dude looked down at her stunned.

“Tomorrow? The big celebrities are coming by the gym to check it out?” he said as if she should know already. Lily continued to look surprised by his information. “It was in the email that Donovan sent like, two weeks ago.” Lily scoffed.

“You are aware I haven’t actually checked my email since probably about 2016, right?” This time The Dude rolled his eyes at her.

“Aren’t you a manager here or something?” he asked. Lily laughed.

“Or something,” she replied. The Dude laughed with her.

“Girl, get it together,” he said, gently pushing her shoulder. “Tom Cruise and that guy that played Super Man are coming by to check out the gym. They need parkour training and Donovan is going to teach them.” Lily’s eyebrows shot up.

“Are you serious?” she asked. Tom Cruise was major. She remembered watching some of his old movies with her dad. Suddenly a pain gripped her chest and she forced herself back into the present.

“100% serious,” he replied. Lily was shocked. She definitely needed to check her email more often. They stood there talking about their favorite Tom Cruise movies for a few minutes when the opening of the front door caught their attention. Much to Lily’s surprise, her old “friend” Celeste walked in the door. Celeste was a tall beauty with olive skin, long brown hair, and stunning green eyes. She had on a matching navy blue sports bra and leggings which showcased her olive skin perfectly. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight, clean ponytail and even from the distance she was at, Lily could tell the woman was wearing makeup.

“Well I’ll be damned,” The Dude said under his breath. Lily watched incredulously as Celeste found them and made her way across the room to them.

“Hey guys!” she said awkwardly breathlessly as she stopped just short of the two of them. The Dude and Lily exchanged a look before turning back to Celeste.

“Hey Celeste,” The Dude said cautiously. Celeste gave him a wide, fake smile that made Lily’s intestines turn. “What brings you back to the gym? We figured you didn’t have a membership anymore.” He didn’t have to look at Lily to know what she was thinking. Celeste waved her hand dismissively.

“No, silly,” she started. “I just took a few months off; went back to Cali for a few weeks; saw my brother in New York,” she made a point to look directly at Lily. Lily immediately dropped her gaze and felt her ears grow warm with embarrassment. The Dude cleared his throat.

“Sounds fun,” he said, disdain evident in his voice. Celeste picked up on it and smiled warmly.

“I just wanted to come back and get back into my routines,” she said. A thought occurred to Lily and her eyes shot up.

“You were hoping to see one of those celebrities,” Lily said, more accusation in her tone than she meant. It didn’t matter because she was right. It was evident on Celeste’s face. Celeste shifted in her spot.

“No, of course not, why would I be excited to meet a celebrity? I’ve met dozens of them already,” Celeste replied. Lily smirked realizing she’d made her uncomfortable.

“They’re not here,” Lily said, causing Celeste to look her in the eyes. “They won’t be here until later.” Lily glanced over at The Dude to see if he would correct her. He didn’t.

“Oh, okay,” Celeste said, glancing around the empty gym. “Well, I guess I’ll go get ready to work out then. It’s been great catching up with you two,” and with a small smile and shoulder shrug, Celeste bounced off to the women’s locker rooms. The Dude and Lily watched her leave and once she was safely away in the locker rooms, Lily looked directly at The Dude who shared a similar look.

“Fuck,” she sighed.

—

At around 8:30, Lily dashed from the gym floor to the locker rooms. She quickly showered and dressed in her usual barbershop attire: dark jeans, a blue or gray t-shirt, and her black and white Converse. Her general wardrobe consisted of these same pieces, with a few variations in the mix. She walked out of the gym to find The Dude helping another regular, Megan, on the rock wall. Though he was tall, The Dude was nimble and able to understand situations that required a certain skill. She walked over to them.

“Watch your heels, Rapunzel,” Lily called out to Megan. Her nickname came from the fact that Megan had insanely long blonde hair. It was beautiful and well-kept, but extremely long. Lily loved it. Megan grunted in response and did her best to heed Lily’s advice, but unfortunately couldn’t quite get it. She stumbled backward and landing on her feet on the mat. Groaning, she turned around to Lily and The Dude.

“I’m never going to get it,” she said with pained certainty. Lily smiled at her.

“You’ll get it,” she said. “You just have to stop pushing it and start feeling it,” she looked over at The Dude who was rolling his eyes at her.

“Haha, very funny,” he said, making Lily and Megan laugh. Lily smiled at The Dude.

“Well, I’m out y’all,” she said waving at both of them. Megan and The Dude waved back and Lily headed out to her truck. It was a very old, very beaten blue Chevy Silverado. It was actually her dad’s, but he had no need for it any more, so Lily got it. One of the few good things her dad did for her. She climbed in, started the loud engine, and puttered off into town.

The barbershop where she worked was in the historic downtown square of Taylor. Her uncle Ray owned the shop and had for several decades. Ray was an older, stout man of 60. He had a decent sized beer belly, a handlebar mustache, and piercing blue eyes. Ray wasn’t actually Lily’s uncle, but he was as close to one as she could get. He took care of her during her senior year of high school and later on when she returned from college to find nothing and no one waiting for her.

Parking her car just outside the shop, Lily got out and darted across the empty street to the diner. Inside, she ordered four cups of coffee to go and a few donuts for everyone. When she got her order, she once again crossed the empty street and walked into Ray’s shop. A few regulars were sitting in their respective stylists' chairs. Lily’s station was towards the front. She pulled a cup of coffee out for herself placing on her station, then went around the room handing the other cups of coffee out. Everyone greeted her with kindness and respect. They knew what she had been through with her parents.

Once everyone had their coffee, Lily settled in at her station and waited for her first customer, Mr. Ortiz. At 9:15, Mr. Ortiz hobbled into the shop and straight to Lily’s station. She jumped up and vacated her chair for him. He sat down and told her he wanted the usual, which for him meant a general trim of his hair and beard. Lily immediately got to work and 45 minutes later she was done and checking Mr. Ortiz out at the register. She sat back in her chair after cleaning up the area and decided to check her email. It was overflowing with spam and other junk, so she specifically searched for the email from Donovan. It was there postmarked two weeks ago. She opened it.

Hello team,

I hope this email finds you well. I want you to be the first to know that I have accepted the chance to teach and train two actors for an upcoming movie. They’ll be filming the majority of it in Texas, Oklahoma, and New Mexico, but we are one of the best-rated ninja warrior/parkour gyms in the country (go figure!). That means they will be here for a while getting the hang of certain moves and choreography.

The two actors in question are Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill. They are going to be here on Wednesday, the 17th at 7 am. We all know Lucky doesn’t read any of these, so someone please tell her. Other than that, you are all amazing!

Best,

Donovan Troy

Lily rolled her eyes at the line that she wouldn’t read the email. Though it was true, she hated how easy it was for him to read her. Anyway, she easily recognized Tom Cruise and could think of several movies she had seen him in. But, who the hell was Henry Cavill?

----

@taglist:

@maeleeme

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fan fic #henrycavillfanfic #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fanfiction #fanfiction #fan fic #writing #writer #stories #daydream #fantasy #a ninja warrior love story #henryxlily #henryxreader

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t-top-apologist · 4 years

Text

The Interesting Future Of The Supra

The new Supra’s apparently got fantastic handling, apparently so good that it is, according to some auto journalists, better than the Supra’s Z4 relative (something that comes, at least partially, from the structural benefit of not being a convertible). Unfortunately its weakness comes from the same place as the 90s darling RX-7 does: Its powertrain.

Gas Goes In, Numbers Come Out

Though BMW straight-sixes might be some of the more refined engines to come out of Germany, just like Rotaries, maintenance isn’t necessarily the easiest among automobiles and parts tend to be pricey. On that note, Rotary engines are the weak spot of the RX-7, with excessive maintenance and a certain degree of specialized mechanical knowledge required to work on them. These two (Mazda’s Wankel and BMW’s B58) aren’t inherently bad, and I’d even venture to say that they’re *good* engines within their specific contexts (Rotary torque numbers, Being in a BMW), while still being a weak spot in the cars as they age.

In the entry-level sports car segment, and in competition against the Corvette was the RX-7, which put out numbers around 250 horsepower. Though a lighter vehicle, it couldn’t compare to the Corvette’s 400 horsepower. When talking numbers, the six-cylinder in the newest Supra puts out around 340 horsepower (with the Z4 making about the same), as opposed to the Corvette’s nigh-500 horsepower offering. The numbers would be respectable if the two weren't vying for much the same audience: buyers willing to pay a little extra (but not too much, mind you) for a performance car.

Automotive Longevity

Now obviously these complaints don’t matter. The new Supra, despite Mk 4 fanboy wailings, will continue to be a strong leader in the entry-level refined-sports-car market. The C8, which offers Ferrari numbers for a lot less money, is set to go up in price after its initial few model years. It offers a great value, even at $70k. Even so, individuals searching for a solid front-engine sport car (more powerful than the Miata), those with an aversion to domestic American sports cars, and people who like to wear Supreme logos (ironically or not) will still buy the new (A90) Supra.

What does matter is the used market. Both the RX-7 and the Mk 4 Supra truly bloomed on the used market. Tuners, drifters and younger enthusiasts all took to these versatile platforms and turned them into true performance machines, doing things with them that those who bought them new would never have imagined. The Mk 4 Supra is renowned for how well its Toyota powerplant handles high horsepower, with many examples hitting that legendary 1000+ horsepower output.

Ah Yes, Reliability

The Mk 4 Supra has something the that the RX-7, and its generational successor, do not: A reliable powertrain. Hear me out: rotary engines might be fun(?) to work on, but they don’t possess the best reputation when it comes to reliability. The rotary is an engine format that, like the layout of the boxer or VR5, is obscure and should be preserved. That said, it isn’t reliable, especially not in cars on the used market. The same goes for the BMW B58, albeit for different reasons.

Before we continue, I do acknowledge the strong fanbase that the rotary engine holds. I appreciate their enthusiasm and dedication to preserving such a unique powertrain. Despite this, Apex seals give up pretty regularly. Too regularly to warrant applying the label of “Reliable Engine.”

Unforgivable Sin: A Prediction

Eventually the newest Supra will just be known as the A90 Supra, as newer cars come along to supplant it. The Supras will once again filter down to younger tuners who’ll pull as much power out of them as they can. My predictions as to how they’ll do this stem from the example of the RX-7, a car that I’ve just spent paragraphs equating to the A90. As an agile, sturdy platform that appears to lack reliable power, the Supra will come to face the inevitable, just as the RX-7 did: The V8 Swap.

The legendary LS Swap has been a common, if controversial, engine-swap for the RX-7. The platform handles beautifully, but between weaker numbers and the aforementioned issues that the Rotary layout possesses, the sturdy reliability that the Chevy V8 provides is too much of a temptation to those who might waver in their purism. Though I haven’t taken too close a look at the Supra’s engine bay, there are examples of Z4 LS Swaps already out there.

Don’t Kill Me Yet

You might argue that the legendary Toyota 2JZ has already been swapped into multiple A90s. You would be correct in saying this, but I’d encourage you to take note that production on that engine ended in 2007, while the LS is still going strong. Additionally, I can safely predict that any number of wrecked Camaros from various teen irresponsibilities will feed the young tuners of the future long after the supply of 2JZs has run out or been hoarded away by collectors who watched too much Fast and the Furious. Plus, the LS allows for the insertion of a manual gearbox, something that the A90 Supra has yet to offer.

If electrification and computerization don’t wipe out the automotive landscape with ugly, shrink-wrapped-looking iPads-with-wheels, you can look forward to finding old Supras, once young, now holding Corvette secrets under their rounded hoods and young drivers behind their wheels.

#supra #cars #performance #V8 #hot takes

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angelpunswriting · 5 years

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The Ballad of Brooks Murphy

He didn’t know what compelled him to come here, driving for hours on a never-ending road.

His old chevy kicked up dust as he went and he wouldn’t be surprised if the white paint looked more of a red-brown color later, the dry New Mexico dirt foreign to him.

He’d regret this, he just knew it.

Brooks was used to the hot, dry sun but he certainly wasn’t used to driving this long on such a shitty road. It was straight, sure, but the nooks and crannies of it made him jump, scared him even. His truck was already roughed up enough, she didn’t need some shitty dirt road in the middle of nowhere to finally kill her.

Everytime he heard her motor start to scream or see smoke come from under the hood he regretted coming out here. But then he’d stop her for a bit, let her sit and then restart her engine and she’d be fine and dandy. She wouldn’t quit on him on an important day like this.

See, Brooks Murphy was heading West for a whole week. All to meet a potential cowhand. His first in years. He didn't trust other people to take care of his cows, to water his plants and pick his beans the way they were supposed to. But lately, he was getting’ too old and too damn tired to do it on his own anymore. He hated to admit, but he needed help.

He’d put an ad out with the help of his sister, who waa much more technically inclined than he could ever. A couple folks caught his attention, but they just weren't up to snuff. Finally, a young man that had just turned 16 applied, and he seemed like a pretty rounded out kid. However, he couldn’t travel the distance to make the interview, since he didn't have a car and his parents weren't willing to drive him. So, Brooks Murphy got in his truck not even a day later and began the six hour drive from Poteet, Texas to Rodeo, New Mexico. Well, somewhere a little outside Rodeo, actually. There was practically nothing for miles, the sight of the desert mind-numbing at this point. By the time he finally got tp Rodeo it was dark, the exhaustion quickly setting in with the onset of a chilly night.

The stars were a comfort, at least. They were beautiful, keeping him awake just long enough to get to the address the kid had given him.

It was pretty much the middle of nowhere, their neighbors had to be a few good miles away. The house itself looked a mess, much like something abandoned. It was an old trailer, with ivy growing’ up the sides and trash littering the yard. The little front porch looked just about as weathered as could be, like it’d fall apart at any second. He was apprehensive to even get out of the truck, worrying that this wasn’t the address he was lookin;’ for. Figuring he was wasting’ time, Brooks finally just decided to knock and hope for the best.

The salt and pepper red haired man strode wearily up to the door, dusting his pants off a little before he knocked. He wanted to try and be at least a little porefessional.

He knocked sharply on the door, hoping someone was still awake to answer the door. He didn't want to have to wait till morning, he had to get back and tend his farm.

The animals would be restless without hime, after all.

It was quiet for a bit, the desert uncomfortably silent, even with the chilly wind nipping at the back of his neck.

He knocked again, this time hearing the floor creak from inside.

The lock turned, and the door slowly opened, a youthful face looking’ out at him.

He looked scared for a moment, then recognition washed over his features.

“ you must be Mr. Juan Martin Garcia-”

“Quiet!”

The boy whispered, stepping outside and slowly, silently shutting the door behind him.

“ Now listen here, young man, I’m fixin’ to be your new boss, I don-” Brooks started, only to be shushed again.

“ Please, sir, keep your voice down!” The boy whispered, glancing back at the trailer, listening for that same creak of the floor, “ my parents, they’re sleeping. They might hear you..”

Brooks stopped for a moment, observing the boy fully. He didn't look quite old enough to be sixteen, and he certainly didn't look strong. He was scrawny, his baggy clothes practically swallowing him up. He didn't look like he could lift a heavy pillow, much less a hay bale.

He wasn't at all what Books had imagined him to be, the older male realizing that this kid had lied.

And then when that kid suddenly turned his head and Brooks Murphy caught a glimpse of that black eye, he forgave him.

“ Sir, please let me work for you. I’ll-I’ll do anything..” The raven before him begged, illiciating a sigh from Brooks.

“ i don’t see why not. You just takin’ the clothes on your back or do ya got a suitcase or somethin’?” he asked, running a hand back through his hair. This would certainly catch up to him in the future, but he figured it’d be better to just go with the flow of it. He needed a cowhand, and young Juan Martin needed somewhere to go.

“ no sir, thank you sir” the kid practically bowed, Brooks simply shaking his head and heading for his chevy. At this point he just wanted to get home and get some sleep, he’d worry about the repercussions later.

The drive back to El Paso was near silent, Brooks hardly noticing the boy was even there for most of the ride. Juan Martin only spoke when they finally stopped at a hotel in downtown El Paso.

“ I thought you lived in Poteet, sir” the boy murmured, hesitantly unbuckling his seatbelt as Brooks got out, “ We stoppin’ for the night?”

The older man nodded, “ I’ve been driving since yesterday, I figure this is a good place to stop for the night. Pretty damn cheap, too”

The two got a room, Brooks taking the bed and Juan Martin settling with the fold out couch. The rest of the journey back to Brooks’ home was similar to the night before. Silent, reserved. Neither of them wanted to speak, Juan Martin out of fear and Brooks...just because he was Brooks.

It was night again by the time they got back to his farm, a hell of a lot warmer than a night in New Mexico. He’d asked his neighbor to take care of his animal for the day, and he was discouraged to see that old coot hadn’t done it right, It was just as he expected. But it could wait til morning, at least they were all fed and sleeping’.

He led Juan Martin inside his old ranch house, leading him up to a guest bedroom that would be his while he worked here. It had a neat little bed, a dresser and a nice desk. Brooks liked to keep it clean for when his sister came down from New York.

“Alright boy I want you up bright and early. Dawn, before the rooster crows, got it? Change out of them clothes, too, there’s some work boots and jeans in the dresser” he explained, already starting back downstairs, “Meet me in the barn, alright?”

Juan Martin just nodded, watching the door shut behind Brooks with a sigh.

Brooks was quick to get to bed, knowing he’d have to get up early and undo the damage of his next door neighbor before he tried to teach Juan Martin anything.

The next day went just like that, Brooks having to teach Juan Martin the ropes as well as clean up the mess his neighbor made of his farm. The cows certainly weren’t happy and probably wouldn’t produce as much milk as they usually did. The chicken’s eggs hadn’t been gathered properly and they were already squawking up a storm before he and Juan Martin even reached the coop.

By the time the day was over, Juan Martin had proved he was a quick learner, even if he didn’t really have the strength to do the work, he still did his best. And Brooks Murphy admired that. As the days passed, Brooks awaited the news of a stolen boy, or maybe even the police showing up at his door. But it never happened. As the dry, Texan summer ended and fall began, Brooks offered to enroll Juan Martin into school.

Without realizing it, Brooks had become Juan Martin’s adopted father and the two of them wouldn’t have it any other way.

#cowboy #cowboy writing #cowboy story #west story #western #western story #lgbt cowboy #lgbt #lgbt story #lgbt writer #lgbt writing #creative writing #creative writer

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letsimportanttreecollection-blog · 6 years

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Recently my friend had an accident. His car is an import and the insurance company want to write it off and as they cannot get hold of replacement parts. Does he have the right to refuse their offer for pay out as the car is worth more than they are giving him. As its an import, and a sports car, he knows he can get more for it on auto trader and eBay. Or can he settle the claim with them by asking them to pay for the repair if he can sort out a garage who is willing to fix his car for less than the insurance company had suggested.""

Why does car insurance rates increase if you have a lapse in coverage?

For example, lets say I have car insurance and pay it on a timely matter and then all of a sudden I move to city where there is a lot of public transportation and my car breaks down. So, instead of worrying about my car I utilize the bus system as I cannot afford to have my car fixed, in turn I cancel my car insurance. Hypothetically lets say a couple months down the road I have a change of heart and am able to afford the repairs for my car. So now my car is up and running etc etc. Why is it that now when I sign up for insurance again my rates will be higher. My situation is that I have a vehicle but it is a lot older and it is broken down right now. It is going to be a few months before I can get it fixed. So, I thought of canceling my insurance bc I was wondering why should I pay insurance for something I am not driving. I, then, told my agent that once i got it fixed i would add the insurance back, he then told me what the consequences of my actions would be. Why do my rates go higher just bc I get rid of the insurance? It's not like I am doing anything illegal. I would not be driving the car bc it is broke down.""

Do you have to be on someone's insurance to drive a car?

In the state of Florida, if your name isn't on a policy, can you still drive a car? I know that some insurance companies offer uninsured driver insurance, in case someone without insurance hits you. But, do you need to be paying monthly on a policy if you don't have a car of your own?""

Where can I find affordable family health insurance?

Looking to find several health company quotes.

How much should a person pay for car insurance in uk?

Cheapest car to insure for a 21year old?

hey let me firstly tell you all my situation.....im 21 years old, a new driver only having just got my licence looking to buy and insure my first car. i wanted to buy a 1999 peugeot 206 1.1 which costs 700 but the insurance is almost 3000 which i just cant afford? can anyone think of any other half decent cars that arnt too expensive and also cheap to insure? they must be really safe cars though as i have a young child. im in full time employment, live in a safe neighbourhood, the car would be parked in a locked carpark overnight and im only really looking for third party insurance. please help!!!!!""

Average cost of sr22 insurance?

What is the average cost of sr22 insurance?

ninja quotes insurance

How much do you pay for full coverage car insurance?

i'm 19 and going to buy a car soon but i'm trying to get a ball park figure on how much i can expect to pay

How much did your car insurance go up after a speeding ticket?

I got a ticket a few months ago, and I got one today. Both were oddly enough 21 mph over the limit. I have not noticed a rate increase yet, and I was wondering what others have gone through.""

What is the approximate cost of insurance for a lamborghini gallardo lp550-2 spyder?

Car insurance question?

Originally I registered my car insurance with my previous address. Now I've moved to a new place, do I require to update the address? What happen if I don't update the address and continuously using my previous address as registered?""

Help in family health insurance in Indiana?

I have a family of 4, My wife and I make about $20,000 a year. Right now, we have to pay $350 a month for health insurance. We already applied for HIP insurance, but it've been 2 years, and they have no positive answers for us. I feel $350 a month is too expensive for us right now, this insurance only pay for us when we have to pay over $10000 at a hospital. For example, if we have to pay $14000 for health, we pay $10000 and they pay $4000 ; anything under $10000, they won't pay. Please help us with our situation, Are there any other options out there. Thank you very much""

How much Do you pay for Car insurance every month?

and what car insurance you have?

What is the Cheapest Insurance?

Hi. My dad has been having AAA as his insurance for $82, compared to our other family members insurance, that is pretty over priced. Isn't the insurance price supposed to go down if you didn't violate anything over the year? And also, i am 16, and have my license, i basically have my dad's old car so he needs to get me into his insurance. What is the best insurance for me and him together? I know Im a minor and the insurance is going to go up but what is the cheapest insurance or best insurance for both of us? My dad wants to switch if ever we find a good deal?""

Does anyone know the best car insurance to buy from with just the minimum required?

i am so sick of car insurance companies taking advantage of people with these super high prices just because the dumb law says you have to have insurance.

How much has your health insurance gone up since the affordable health care act was passed?

I just got notice mine went up by 33.5% last week. Why is my insurance getting less affordable instead of more affordable?

How do you find out if a driver has insurance or not?

My car got hit and the driver took off. I have their name, address, and vin number but they did not provide an insurance company name either because they don't have it or there's a possibility that it was not provided at the time. Who can find this out for me, the police said they can't and my insurance company said they don't think they can either....""

Can I buy Motorcycle Insurance for 3 months?

Is it possible for Geico to do that?

How much will be my car insurance? (I'm serious)?

Guys please take this question seriously and don't even try to answer unless u r going to answer thoroughly I'm 18 and will be 19 in october And I'm getting driver license in a month My parents are not citizen and they don't live in US But I'm citizen and go to high school I heard that my car insurance is extremely expensive since my parents don't live in US But I really NEED to drive my own car ( Not i want to, i NEED it!) I'm aware that the insurance fee depends on companies ***So what I want is approximation or similar examples or similar cases (My GPA is over 4.0 so probably there will be discount... *** if there is, i need every info for discount) And only my mom got her license when she stayed here for few month last year She needs to renew it and she is registered to my uncle's car (I live with my uncle) ***Does this affect my fee? I'm working in city recreation department How can I go work if i don't have car? Now...I ride bike for 4miles to go there... Please help me""

I am looking to get a new car. I am currently on moms insurance - please read below?

I am 26 and purchasing my first new car - I am currently on moms insurance. I will be getting my own insurance. Do you need proof the day you purchase of your OWN insurance - or is proof of my moms insurance enough until I get my own? Also, when you purchase a new car - can you drive off the lot the day that you purchase it? Thanks!""

What insurance companies are cheap for young drivers that have 6points due to non insurance?

What is Private Health Insurance?

My work provides me with insurance that covers medical and some RX. Is this considered Private insurance? Or is Private insurance when you go and purchase the insurance on your own?

How much does insurance cover?

I have blue cross shield insurance I am fourteen how much would I be for Invisalign On my bottom teeth? I got braces on my top years ago The insurance covered all of my tonsilectomy we paid nothing out of pocket.

Is insurance affordable under the Affordable Care Act?

Auto Insurance Quote too high?

I got an insurance quote from Amica Insurance. I've never had any ticketes or anything and they want $ 180 per month. With Farmers it is $360 every 6 months. Why the big difference? I heard Amica is supposed to be cheaper? Thanks

Teen insurance and info two questions in one?

Hi, i am having a tough time with auto insurance qoutes and prices, so i could use some help. Question 1. ok, i am 15, will be 16 in May, if that helps, i have a 1994 Dodge full size van of my own (title was signed to me) and i am getting ready to tag it. i also live in Kansas. ok, i have $500 dollars saved up and have a job that i work 2 days a week and i make about $200 a week. now, i would like to buy my own insurance if possible. is it possible? Question 2. if i can not buy my insurance, can i put the insurance in my mom's name only, and then title it in mine? but one way or the other I HAVE to title it, the title is written out to me on the back in ink, so...................... thanks to any answers or if you know any good cheap insurance companies thanks""

What are typical limits on a full coverage auto insurance policy.?

I was recently in a mans vehicle when he wrecked, I was pretty seriously injured, and now have a lot of medical bills, and surgery bills. I know that he has a full coverage policy with Geico, because they have contacted me, and told me that. The only thing that they will not tell me is his personal limits. I have found out though that He has a history of accidents, and DUI'S. I do not know if that has any affect on his limits or not. I am just concerened about my bills getting paid, and my reimbursement for my lost time, and pain and suffering.""

""Im 17 how much would insurance be for an an Infinity QX56 2013? Its fully loaded and costs $80,470.?

I want one so bad!

Is insurance must for Two Wheelers?

I have a four years old Honda Unicorn. Till now I have insurance for my bike. Now if I do not renew the insurance, what are expected problems ? Legally am I bound to have some insurance ?""

Does anyone recommend a cheap company for my first car insurance policy?

I only have a 1.2 punto so I'm just looking for a nice cheap quote - if such thing exsists?

Self Employed Health Insurance?

My father just quit his old job, he couldn't work there anymore (Too long commute and we lost a parent, so he had to stay closer home for the family) So now he is self employed. We are trying to find insurance that will cover him, 4 children, vision (we all wear glasses) + dental. Does anyone have any suggestions? (We live in PA)""

Do 'normal' car insurance companies insure exotic cars as well?

I've gone to multiple popular car insurance agencies websites and tried to get a quote for a Lamborghini, but in the drop down menu there is never an option for it. I'm beginning to wonder if they even do insure these kinds of cars?""

ninja quotes insurance

How can I get medical insurance if I have a history of pancreatitis?

I've never had medical insurance b/c I've never had a reason too. Never had any major sickness before now, never a broken bone and never sprained anything. My pancreas suddenly became inflamed. It wasn't caused by drinking, I hate the stuff! I believe it was caused by smoking. I've had a few episodes of pancreatitis and was hospitalized once in which it cost an arm and a leg. Should have went to the hospital this last time, but I was so scared of the extra costs. Your pancreas is a major organ. You can't live without it. Am I going to just have to grin and bare it and leave a debt to my family when I die?! I tried applying for the discount but I wasn't eligible b/c I don't have a job. I haven't had one in 4 years. What are you to do. No insurance company will accept me due to the medical problems. I'm scared of what I'll be charged, but even more scared of the pancreas killing me.""

Car insurance?

I heard that you will pay less for auto insurance if you have your license and a clean record even when you nor our family memeber have a car. IS that ture? I mean like you didnt buy a car or insurance when you first get ur license.

Will I be able to buy car insurance?Thanks?

Im 19 and I was on my dads Metropolitan insurance company. I had 2004 Honda Civic but my dad had the car title in his name. I crashed my car and I was at fault so now we're waiting for the case to settle. My dad wants to wait for the case to settle before I buy another car. The case might take another year or more before its settled. I would like to buy my own insurance and my own car. How will the insurance work out or whats the cheapest insurance? Thanks

Is it illegal if someone else pays for my health insurance?

I lost my job last month, and I need to know if there would anything illegal or wrong if say a relative paid for my health insurance until I get a new job? The insurance is through this new Affordable Care Act program.""

""My car insurance was voided in the past, and now I can't get a quote anywhere, can anyone help?!?""

When I started learning to drive at 17, I decided to buy my self a cheap car so that I'd be able to get more experience behind the wheel, pass my test quicker and have a car as soon as I passed my test. I was insured on my provisional license with an insurance company which specialised in learner drivers. However, I ended up getting 3 points on my license the week before I passed my test, in what I still think were pretty unfair circumstances. My house doesn't have a drive or a garage and so I had to park my car on the road in front of my house, or on a street round the corner when there were no spaces. As it was my first car I was really excited, and without understanding that I could get in trouble for it, I used to sometimes sit in my car and listen to music with my friends. The week before I passed my test we were sat chatting when a police car came down the road and pulled up behind us. Someone had broken into some allotments nearby and they were questioning us as to if we had seen anything. They searched my car- for tools that could suggest we had done it I presume, and when they found nothing they ran my license and obviously realised I only had a provisional license. I still at this point didn't realise I had done anything wrong, I wasn't driving the car, simply sat in it so I didn't realise I had committed an offence. The police informed me that because the engine was running, I could have been driving or about to drive and on that basis they convicted me for driving without a license. I only got 3 points and a 60 fine due to the fact I wasn't actually driving and at the time I accepted that with relief, I was terrified I'd get a ban or lose my license or get a massively unaffordable fine. I could have appealed but that would have meant going to court and I was only 17 and that terrified me. I declared the points to my insurance company straght away, but due to the nature of the offence my insurance was invalidated and void. I've only just now realised how serious having insurance voided in the past is. I'm supposed to be moving a 5 hours away in a few months for a job, and I have plenty of money saved for car insurance and a car, as without a car, the move is completely unrealistic. Without a car I won't be able to get to work as the hours are unsocial and my job isn't very well connected with public transport at all and so relying on public transport or taxis is simply not an option. I found a car, went to get an insurance quote, and found out that getting insurance is practically impossible when you've had insurance voided in the past. The points don't seem to be a problem, when I tell companies about my points but not about my insurance voided in the past they happily give me a quote. They're expensive, but affordable and it's what I was expecting. However, as soon as I tell them that my insurance was voided in the past they refuse to even give me a quote. I'm completely out of options and I don't know what to do. I need a car, but I can't get insurance as much as I try. I know I was in the wrong, but it seems like the voided insurance is more of a punishment than the points are and surely that isn't right? And the voided insurance will stay with me for the rest of my life, so does that mean that driving will never be an option for me? I'm sorry for the essay, I just really don't know what to do! If anyone's been in a similar situation with voided insurance or know of a company that would insure me then please let me know! Just anything that would help, let me know! Thank you so much in advance and sorry again for the babbling!""

Car Insurance?

anybody know what the Uk cheapest car insurance for somebody with 15 years no claims discount car engine size 2.8cc?

""If we are getting affordable heath insurance, why can't my employer afford it?""

If we are getting affordable heath insurance, why can't my employer afford it?""

How much is small business insurance?

Hi I am doing a project for school and I was wondering how much insurance is for a small business. It will be a temporary food vendor. I am looking at owner, liability, product liability, and auto insurance. I just need an estimate if you could help. Thanks!""

Can my insurance tell what the ticket was for?

So, I live in CA and i have AAA insurance. My daughter got a speeding ticket and i know it will raise my insurance. and i know they can tell that thre is a ticket on certain person's name but can they tell what the ticket was for???""

Any ideas on how to get cheaper car insurance?

Will my car insurance rate increase if my car is stolen and never recovered?

I also have GAP insurance.

How does insurance either supplied by an employer or by the government drive UP the price of health care?

Motorcycle Insurance?

I am currently trying to get a motorcycle license and I'm wondering if there's any insurance company that would insure me. I'm 18, in California and I don't have a drivers license yet. I have passed the written test for a drivers license but haven't been able to schedule a behind the wheel test yet because my family's lack of cars (mom/dad uses them to get to work until ~8). So while I'm waiting for that to happen then I'm might as well try to get a motorcycle permit because we have my dad's old (but not so old) one. But question is, is there an insurance company that would insure somebody like me? Price isn't too much of an issue because I have a job with no added financial duties so to say.""

Can small business owners & the self-employed get quality yet affordable health & dental insurance...?

if so, how?""

Auto Insurance average for me?

I've had my temps for about 8mos now, and I'm going Togo to driving school for my license. I'm 17 years old. How much do you think average coverage should be?""

What is the most affordable health insurance in NYC?

My friend doesn't have health insurance and is planning on putting his new baby (born around Oct.) on his policy with him. He's Latin American and has his permanent residence card, but is not yet a citizen. Anyone know of any affordable plans for him to look into in the Manhattan area?""

Are there any health insurance programs like healthy families?

I know healthy families are for children and teenagers but are there any other medical low cost program for kids in their early 20's. There is medical but what if they don't qualify for medi-cal, and if the parents don't make enough money and kids don't have any job because our economy is whacked. How we suppose to take kids to the doctor when they're sick? Please help, any helpful information would be greatly appreciated. God bless!""

How can i get cheap insurance?

I'am going to be 17 soon and i going to buy a car so i was wondering what car should i buy or what shoul i do to get cheap insurance, because at the moment it's cost about 3.500 and that just too expensive... help please""

If my son is on my parents insurance does that mean they claim him on his taxes?

Okay my son is now 1 year old. He is on my parents insurance, we live with them, and my parents pretty much support him.(pay for all expenses).. Now my sons father wants to put him on his taxes. I know he just wants to get money to get him a new car. he also says he will get me a car too. but idk about that. When i told him i think my parents already claimed him, he started yelling its his son, and told me to give him his security card(he has a really bad temper and gets angry to where i get scared) so i did.. but now i need to sign a paper..and i dont want too.. Here is my thing i told him that he is automatically on my parents taxes, because he is on there insurance, so that would mean i would have to take aiden off of their insurance(Which means he wouldnt be on any insurance)he started yelling how stupid i am and just to sign paper, my question is is it true that because my parents have him on their insurance, he is on their taxes. What should i do? Thanks for anyhelp. Sorry long question. Please no rude answers""

Cheap auto insurance for mid-california...?

i had a accident in december last year and a speeding ticket doing 90 in a 55 last year.. 2 different occasions. i am buying a 2002 jeep grand cherokee laredo and wheni went to geico they said my quote was like $406 a month.. thats crazy. progressive was $199 a month.. but it still seems outrageous... cant i find it cheaper than this? please help..... im 23 female who has had my license for 7 years since i was 16, never had it revoked or anything.. how do i get my rates to go down?""

For my car insurance I have full coverage. Have a $500 deductible to fix a broken window. Is that normal?

A rock hit my window while I was driving and i have a $500 deductible to fix it. I wanted to see was that really high or normal? I have full coverage. I just want to see how this insurance compares to others. $500 deductible just seemed a bit high. Thanks!

Question about car insurance. Will give 10 points. thank you!?

Well i have a basic hometown insurance, and they charge me 415bucks, im 16 years old and male. We own a Chevy Venture, 2000 toyota camry, and 1989 toyota camry, i don't own any, so how can i be still getting charged? I thought only the owner will get charged, i can drive under my dads insurance.? My dad owns the toyota camry, 89. Sister owns the 00 camry., dad owns van.""

Should I drop collision from my auto insurance this renewal?

I have a ten year old Honda Civic, just over 40,000 miles, has a crack in the driver's side rear bumper that I ignore. I have an excellent driving record, no points, am the only driver, am at that age where I'm not young enough or old enough to be considered a threat, but I live in a high rate state and money is more than tight and they just shot my house insurance through the roof, even though I never put in a claim, because, get this, there is a chance that someday we may have a hurricane! Am I being pennywise and pound foolish, or am I paying for something that won't pay off even if I need it? Thank you!""

How much do you think i'll be paying for car insurance?

I'm 16 from Massachusetts, and i'm going to be getting my license next month! I have saved enough money and i'm going to be buying a volkswagen beetle from the year 2000. how much do you think i'll be spending a month on car insurance? i took drivers ed so that could help.""

Good car insurance??

I will be 16 in a few months and am hoping to get a Mustang two doors. soo it might be a little higher insurance..Is there an insurance company thats better than another?

ninja quotes insurance

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/can-you-drive-learners-permit-without-insurance-anthony-lopez/"

23 notes · View notes

ivarsrideordie · 6 years

Text

The Hidden Clearing

Must be 18+ to read. No if, ands or buts.

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/Ivar the Boneless x Reader

Warnings: Smut, language, rough sex, BDSM, and fluff.

Title: A Hidden Clearing

Words: 3,346

Masterlist

This will also be posted to my AO3 account in the future.

There is no Danish in this except the normal nicknames and pet words.

If there is Danish written into the story, I just put ((insert text)) at the end of the sentence or paragraph.

If you would like to be tagged, comment or message me. I’ll be happy to add you.

You opened the shower door. Alex stood there smugly grinning. You were excited but you didn’t want him to see that. Grabbing your towel from the holder, you climbed out. He eyed you hungrily.

“I’m going to get ready so we can go to dinner. I should be ready soon.” You sweetly smiled.

“I’ve got a surprise waiting for you. So hurry up.” He had a wicked grin spread across his face and you loved it. You felt butterflies build in your core. You were wondering what he had planned.

As you walked by, you brushed your wet body against him. He licked his lips.

“You like that? Do you Mr. Andersen?” You bit your bottom lip, giving him an innocent puppy dog look.

“Mhm.” He pulled you close. His lips softly kissing down your neck. You felt heat sear through your body. His tongue licked at your collarbone. You let out a longing sigh.

“Alex. We are going to be late.” You whimpered.

“I know.” He mumbled through muffled kisses up your neck. “You taste so sweet min elskede. I just want to eat you up.” He nibbled on your earlobe. Your body quivered. You grabbed his face, pulling it to you. You invaded his mouth with a deep kiss. Your tongues crash together. Gods, he tasted so good.

You pull back. “I am going to get dressed. You should really calm him down.” You grinned and glanced at his erection.

“But Lille Mus!” He whined.

“Go! I will see you in the living room.” You kissed the corner of his mouth and went to dig in the closet for a sexy dress.

You heard him mumbling something incoherently in Danish as he stomped down the hall. His game room door slammed shut. You stood there smiling. “Well, at least he’s playing a game to calm down.”

You were searching for the perfect dress and you found it! You placed the dress against your body and looked in the mirror. Ah yes. This is it. You slipped on a pair of black fishnet stockings. You were about to put on a pair of black thong panties when you decided against it. A devilish grin came across your face. You went to your dresser and pulled out your garter belt. This was Alex’s favorite one. It was a silk belt with lace on the underside. He loved the silky feel of it. Whenever you wore it, he would slide a hand under your dress just so he could pet it. And you of course. Tonight he will be pleasantly surprised since you decided not to wear panties. You hooked the belt straps into your stockings. You grabbed the dress from your bed and slid it over your head. You had chosen a spaghetti strap leather dress that was skin tight and zipped from bottom to top in the front. You sprayed on his favorite perfume and lightly painted your face. Alex loved your natural look but you always wanted to look your best on date night.

“Alex?” You called in a sing-song voice. “I’m ready!”

You heard him jump off the couch. Hurried footsteps came to the door. He flung open the door. His mouth dropped open at the sight of you. A sound came from him you had never heard before. You couldn’t even describe it if you wanted to. It was sexy beyond words.

“Åh Lille Mus. Jeg kunne spise dig lige her og nu!” He growled. ((Oh little mouse. I could eat you up right here and now!))

Your stomach lurched into your throat. Ivar was coming out. You could hardly control your excitement. Alex had a devilish grin. He slowly walked over to you, eyeing you up and down. Your body grew warm. Your face flushed. He reached out for your shoulder, dragging a finger as he walked behind you. Your body shivered. He wrapped his arms around your waist. Your body reacted to his touch. You let out a small whimper. He pressed his lips against your shoulder. He moved your hair to the side to access the nape of your neck. His lips and tongue peppered your neck. Your eyes closed. Your head fell forward to allow him easier access. You slid your arms behind you and grabbed his hips. He had started grinding his cock on your ass. Gods you wanted him. You wanted him now.

“Alex. A… Alex. Come on.” You stifled a moan. “We need to go.”

He growled against your skin. He brought his mouth to the shell of your ear and whispered. “Who is this Alex you speak of? Hmm?” His scalding breath whisked across your lobe. His voice seethed in that devilish Viking accent.

Your knees grew weak. “Oh, my king. King Ivar. I am so sorry. I… I...” Ivar stopped you.

“You what? You’ve been bringing another man to your bed? Have you been a slutty little bitch?” He snapped. He swung you around by your arm to face him. His eyes dark. He was practically salivating with lust.

“No, no my king! Never!” You pleaded. You bit your lip. You fought every instinct in your body to just let him have his way with you right then and there.

“Good. Go get in the car, my queen. I’ll be right there.” Ivar licked his lip. Pop! He smacked your ass hard. You whipped around, looking at him with shock and lust. Ivar chuckled. “Go!” He shooed you away.

You headed out to his ‘57 Chevy. It was a beauty. Candy apple red with a blonde drop top. You climbed into the passenger seat. You started thinking about Valentine’s Day. How he had done everything you asked him to do. Everything he wanted to do. And you didn’t care. You loved every minute of it. You felt your pussy grow wet. Your hands slid to your thighs. You lightly tickled the inside of your thigh. Ivar came from the house. He had changed into a black blazer and black pleated pants. His blazer was unbuttoned revealing a gray microfiber shirt that clung to his well toned-chest. His long brown hair was hanging down, resting on his shoulders. Your heart skipped a beat. You crossed your legs to alleviate the throbbing in your sex. God. Look at him. You let out a sigh. Ivar opened his door.

He glanced at your fingers lightly massaging your thighs. His face grew dark.

“What time do we need to be there?”

“Soon.” Ivar snapped. “I see you are touching yourself again. I have told you time and time again. Why must you do this to me? WHY?!” His roar sent a chill through your body. You unexpectedly moaned. He rolled his tongue around his bottom teeth. “I see.” He got in the car, slamming the door.

Ivar started down the driveway. A few miles down the road he swerved off to a side road. He drove deep into the woods. There was a small clearing. He stopped. You kept your eyes forward and gulped. You felt his stare. Slowly you looked to him. He was licking his lips and grinning that sexy Ivar grin. You bit your bottom lip.

“Åh min dronning. Jeg ved, du har været en slette lille hore. Du har ligget sammen med denne mand ved navn Alex. Jeg vil lære dig, hvad der sker, når du snyder på Ivar den Boneless!” Ivar hissed. ((Oh my queen. I know you have been a slutty little whore. You have lain with this man named Alex. I will teach you what happens when you cheat on Ivar the Boneless!))

Before you could say anything, Ivar was on top of you. His hand was on the back of your head, pulling your hair. You whimpered.

“Jeg vil kvæle dig så hårdt, dine tænder vil vokse lige.” You felt his hand slide up your dress. “What is this? No panties! What were you going to do with this Alex?” He bellowed. ((I’m going to choke you so hard, your teeth will grow straight.))

He didn’t wait for you to answer. His mouth crashed into yours. He moaned into your mouth. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip. You felt his free arm slide under the small of your back. He laid you back on the bench seat. Ivar unzipped your dress revealing your supple breasts. His mouth found your breasts. He bit down on one nipple. You sucked a breath in through your teeth. His hand grabbed your throat. He slightly squeezed. You felt your cunt grow slick.

“You will always be mine.” Ivar hissed. He reached between your legs. He ran a finger up your slit. Ivar licked his finger as if he had just scooped whipped cream off of a sundae. “My. You taste so sweet and you are so wet. I can’t wait to get my cock in you.” He squeezed a little harder on your throat. Everything was getting fuzzy. You could feel the heat of his enraged cock against your leg. He let go of your throat to unzip his pants. You coughed and inhaled deeply. He pulled his pants down and laid on top of you again. The tip of his cock lightly teasing your lips. You spread your legs for him to enter you.

“Oh no. You don’t get that yet, Lille Mus.” His hand went back to your throat and applied pressure. Ivar nipped at your earlobe. You shivered at his touch. Your throat began to burn. You gasped for air. Ivar released slightly. You sucked in a deep breath. He reached into the glove compartment. He pulled out your pair of handcuffs. You smirked but quickly hid it. Man, those things are getting a lot of use lately. You couldn’t help it. You grinned and he saw.

“Hvad er så sjovt? Morer jeg dig?” He vehemently spat. His grip grew tighter. You dug your nails into his flesh. Your throat burned. Each breath becoming harder. You felt yourself passing out. ((What is so funny? Do I amuse you?)) “Jeg vil få dig til at betale for din uforskammethed!”((I will make you pay for your insolence!)) His head dipped to your neck. His tongue lapping up the salty taste of your skin. He moaned against your skin. His grasp on your neck grew stronger. He growled against your skin as he nipped and sucked. You could no longer breathe.

You smack his elbow letting him know you needed to breathe. He released you in horror. You took a deep breath. “Oh, my gods Y/N! I’m so sorry!” Alex cried out. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Oh baby, it’s ok. You can keep going. I just needed to breathe.” You pulled him down by the nape of his neck. You place a light kiss on his lips and wipe away a few tears. You sweetly smiled. “Can Ivar come back out to play?” You bit your lip.

Alex slightly smiled. “Are you sure Lille Mus?” He tenderly kissed your chin. You heard him sniffle.

“Yes. Please continue my love. It’s okay. Promise.”

Quickly he got back into character. “Get out of the car. Now!” He hissed.

You shook your head. Fire lit in his eyes. Your body ached for him. He pulled up his pants. Ivar got out, slammed the door and stomped over to your side. He grabbed your hair and dragged you out of the car. You hit the ground hard. You forgot how strong he was when he was role-playing. He pulled you along dragging you to the back of his car.

“Get on the trunk!” He demanded. His face reminded you of that scene where he was crawling to Heahmund after he had captured him.

“No!” Your body quivered. You had never defied Ivar before. He wrapped his arms around your legs, picking you up. He slammed you on the trunk. You licked your lips. Ivar got the handcuffs out of his pocket. He grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them behind you. He snapped them closed tightly. He bit down hard on your shoulder. You let out a yelp.

“You will do as I say. You are now my slave. Do not defy me again!” His eyes devouring the sight of you. He brought your hips towards him. “Jeg har haft flødeskummen. Nu har jeg brug for kirsebær.” ((I've had the whipped cream. Now I need the cherry.)) Ivar dove between your legs. His mouth sucked hard on your clit. His tongue flicked like a jackhammer. You were driven mad. Your legs began to shake. You felt him slip two fingers inside you. He curled them, hitting that sweet spot. He moved his thumb to your clit, still massaging it quickly. His hot breath brushed against your lips. A wave rolled over you. You felt it coming. You were about to orgasm. Ivar buried his tongue deep inside you. Your walls spasmed as he lapped up your cum. He licked and kissed you clean. His tongue paying special attention to the cherry he wanted to taste ever so much. He ran his hands up your stomach to your breasts. He firmly squeezed them.

“What do you say, slave? Should I remove your bindings?” He asked through a thick accent.

“If you wish it my king. My master. I will do anything you ask of me.”

“Hmm.” Ivar pondered. “I will take them off. I hope I can trust you to not do anything funny.”

You nodded. You just wanted what was coming. You needed him inside you. Just like he needed you too. He removed one of the cuffs, pulling your arms around. He pushes his pants down again. He takes your wrists, pulling you close. Before you knew it, your wrists were cuffed around his waist.

“ALEX!! How are we going to get out of this!?” You screamed.

He let out a belly laugh. “I’ve got that covered min elskede. Now back in character.”

“Skrig for mig! Skrig mit navn! Cum for mig! Lad mig skrige!” With one swift motion, he slammed his enraged cock into you. ((Scream for me! Scream my name! Cum for me! Make me scream!))

You gasp as the tip of his cock slammed into your cervix. God, it hurt so bad but felt so good. Ivar began grunting and growling. You roll your hips upwards. He placed his hands on your hips for more control. You contract your pussy walls around his cock. You felt him twitch inside you. He thrust faster. His body began to quake. He let out an animalistic groan. He positioned you so his member massaged your clit as he slid in and out of your pussy. You felt your walls collapsing. The pleasure was too much.

“Fuck me harder Ivar! Oh, gods HARDER!” You bit down on his shoulder, drawing blood. Your cunt exploded in ecstasy. You felt your juices flood out of you and drip down your ass. Ivar felt you release all over his balls. With that, his body became erratic. You kept contracting your walls as hard as you could. Wave after wave of orgasm flowed through you. All you could do was whine and whimper. Your voice hoarse.

“Shit! Shit! Oh, fuck! Oh, my gods Y/N!” You felt his seed coat your walls. He let out a deep guttural moan. He slid his hand up the nape of your neck. His fingers entangled in your long locks. His lips found yours. He softly kissed your lips. His hot breath sweeping across your cheek. He squeezed you tight. Your bodies cling together.

“Jeg elsker dig.” You whispered in his ear.

“Jeg elsker dig til månen og tilbage min kærlighed.” Alex replied. ((I love you to the moon and back my love.))

“So, what’s your plan to get out of this predicament?” You smirked.

“Well.” He started. “I didn’t really think this one through as well as I thought I did.”

“Oh shit. What? What did you do Alex?!”

“Well,” He paused. “the keys are in my pocket. In my pants. On the ground.”

You both looked to the ground.

“Well, this shouldn’t be that hard?” You sarcastically questioned.

“Here.” He lifted his arms above his head. “Try this.”

You try to lift your arms up, but his shoulders are too broad. He chuckled. Cackled. Roared with laughter.

“What is so damn funny?”

“We are going to be found like this days later, dehydrated from fucking like rabbits.”

“WHAT?!” You looked at him in horror. “You need to fix this now Alex!”

He manically cackled and picked you up by your ass. He maneuvered himself so you were riding him piggyback style. He carried you to the front seat.

You clicked your tongue. “Come on, donkey.” You slapped him on the ass.

“Oh lord.” He rolled his eyes. He set you down on the front seat. “Scoot back.” He sat down in front of you. “You know, I could sit like this forever. I love the feeling of your soft, supple tits against my back.” He grinned. You sighed and bit down on his shoulder blade. “Ow! Okay. Okay.”

He bent down grabbing his pants. He fished around in his pocket. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”

“WHAT?” You cried. “I’m freezing Alex. What is it now?”

“I can’t find the keys. Want to hear the good news?”

“Oh, my gods! We are going to die like this! Why did I..” Alex shook a set of keys. “Oh for fuck’s sake! You shit head!” You heard him snickering. You felt the sweet release of one of the cuffs. Your arms fell to his lap. He uncuffed the other one, placing the handcuffs back into the glove compartment. He brought your bruised wrists to his mouth. He peppered them with soft kisses. You laid your head on his back.

“Did you have fun?” He licked your wrist, knowing how it turned you on.

“Yes, babe. I had lots of fun.” You ran your hand through his hair. You were always so envious of his hair. It was always soft and full-bodied. He sighed contently.

“We should get going. Don’t want to be late for dinner.” He stood, pulling his boxers and pants up.

“Aww, okay.” You had just started feeling relaxed again.

“Here. Let me help you.” He gave you his hand. “M’lady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

He put your dress over your shoulders. The soft leather slid down your body. Slowly he zipped you up. He bit his lip as your body disappeared.

“I can’t wait to taste you again Lille Mus.” He wet his lips.

“Soon enough my love. Soon enough.” You brushed your fingers against his cheek and planted a kiss in the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get out of here.”

He helped you get in the car and closed the door.

The engine roared. You cranked down his window, allowing the cool night breeze to sweep across your face. You closed your eyes.

“Lille mus?”

“Hmm?” You hummed.

“Should we go change?”

“Not unless you want to. You are the one that dropped your pants in the dirt.” You sniggered.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” He looked down at himself. “I think I’ll be okay.”

You took his hand in yours. You sat in blissful quietness for the rest of the trip. The wind blowing through your hair. The smell of fresh cut grass. The salty smell of the ocean. The car stopped.

“We are here min elskede.” Alex sang.

You opened your eyes. It was your spot. You lovingly smiled. “This is perfect.”

“So, what would you like to do next time?” He smirked.

“You will see Alex. You will see.”

Alex opened your door. He gave you his hand, pulling you up. He brought your body close to his. He slid his arms around your waist, squeezing you tightly. You pulled back and brushed off all the dirt you could find on him.

“Let’s go mus. I’m sure Joe is waiting for us.” He kissed your forehead and whisked you into the restaurant.

@lisinfleur @therealcalicali @missrobyn81 @dangerousvikings @ivarswickedqueen @bang-kim-bap @michaeliskindahot @heathen-whore @vikingsbifrost @hvitserksgirl @mblaqgi @ivarsshieldmadien @captstefanbrandt @funmadnessandbadassvikings @titty-teetee @ethereallysimple @ivars-snowflake @babydoll7478 @inthenameofodin @ivarsheathen @microsmacrosandneedles @trailerthoughtstexas @ivars-heathen @wichesterwife27 @cbouvier23 @tierneygonzalez @dmv49 @ivaraddict @akamaiden @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @jxylynn-eliz @tayachristopher @ivarlcthbrok

#alex høgh #alex høgh andersen #alex hogh andersen #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #alex x reader #fanfic

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sheltoncrowley0-blog · 5 years

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avengerofyourheart · 7 years

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Leave This Town Pt 3 (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha (mentioned)

Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.

Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers

Warnings: Mentions of drinking. The mildest of swearing I guess?

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags are at bottom (TAG LIST IS CLOSED I’M SORRY)

**This fic is for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5K AU Writing Challenge**

A/N: You guys. This fic has taken on a life of its own and I’m oddly okay with it. Once upon a time I planned 3 parts, then 4, and now it’s 7. :D Oops. That’s what I think, anyway. Who knows? Not me, apparently. ha! I really hope you’re loving Mechanic!Bucky as much as I am!! Any feedback and comments are appreciated. Love you guys!!

<<Part Two Part Three Part Four >>>

Leave This Town Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

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A/N: This gif applies, I promise. ;)

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Previously:

Reaching your room, you flicked on the tv mostly for background noise and took a hard look at the detailed budget you had written up for your trip. Paying for 3 days in a motel and adding the car repairs, your wallet was taking a hit, but Bucky’s willingness to lower the bill would definitely help. You were grateful to this kind stranger and the thought of spending the whole day with him tomorrow was strangely exciting. Surprised to feel a few butterflies flutter in your stomach, you shook your head to clear away the feeling and got ready for bed.

I’ll be gone in a few days, you told yourself as you drifted off to sleep.

_______________________

Morning came and luckily your body woke you around 7am because you’d neglected to set an alarm. You hopped in the shower and then rummaged through your duffel for something comfortable to wear that you wouldn’t mind getting dirty. Slipping on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers instead of your trusty sandals, you pulled your hair up away from your face and headed out the door with an apple in hand.

Arriving outside the auto shop, the garage doors were closed but a light was on in the office. You let yourself in and wandered behind the counter toward the light, finding Bucky seated at a desk piled high with papers. His hair was down, brushing the collar of his light blue work shirt which was unbuttoned to reveal a white tank top underneath. Watching him fill out a form of some sort in a hurried scrawl, you observed him unnoticed a moment before announcing yourself.

“Good morning,” you finally spoke, bringing his head up.

His handsome smile instantly brightened the artificially-lit room, causing those butterflies to make an appearance once again. “Morning, Y/N.”

You returned his smile, leaning against the door’s entryway. “Well, it looks like this office could use a little help.”

He chuckled. “You’re not wrong, but quite the undertaking. I’m pretty sure some of these receipts are older than me. My uncle owns the shop, but he’s basically retired now so I run the place. Organization was never his strong suit. How about some coffee and a little tour?”

You nodded, “Sounds like a plan.”

Bucky kept a small coffee pot in the waiting area in front of the counter and he poured you both a cup, offering cream and sugar. You followed him around as he explained where things were and why they were kept there, although sometimes the answer was “because that’s where my uncle put them”, defying all logic. There was a corded phone on the wall behind the counter, but it rarely rang. According to Bucky, your call was the only one he’d had all week. Most locals just dropped by and he’d squeeze them in whenever he could.

The computer was ancient, which seemed to be a trend in this town, but most files were still on paper anyway. Bucky gave you a rundown of where tools were generally kept along with stories about the cars he was currently working on and their owners. Your favorite was Mr. Coulson’s 1962 Cherry Red Chevy Corvette, which he had named Lola. For years he would hover around the car while Bucky changed the oil or any other regular servicing, but he seemed to trust the seasoned mechanic now. Bucky still advised you not to touch Lola, just to be safe.

“So? Which project would you like to tackle?” he asked you as he pulled his hair back into a bun to start his day.

You were momentarily distracted by the act once again, but made it seem like you were considering your options. “Where’s the tow truck?” you finally asked.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh…you want to tow something?”

“No, I mean the lift mechanism that nearly shattered my eardrums. It’s bad enough when your car has to be towed, being subjected to that unholy noise is just insult to injury.”

He barked out a laugh at that before gesturing to its location around the corner of the building. “You’ve got a point. If you want to back it into that empty stall, I’ll show you how to grease it up.”

Bucky tossed you the keys and you did just that. You managed to lubricate the hydraulic lift of the tow truck very carefully as to avoid pinched fingers. When it raised and lowered with no squeal, you jumped up and down, clapping your blackened hands in excitement. Bucky poked his head out from under a car’s hood and grinned at you, causing that flutter in your stomach to grow.

After the tow truck, you managed to organize the tools which were now all hanging from a pegboard on the wall for easy access. Next, you washed all the dingy windows, finally letting actual sunlight in. Around mid-morning, Bucky asked for your help aiming a flashlight at a particularly tricky part of an engine. You pointed the light at the area in question from above while Bucky worked from underneath the car.

“So where are you headed specifically?” he asked, breaching the subject of your trip.

“L.A.” you said simply.

“Oh? Off to Hollywood to become a big movie star, huh?” he teased lightly as you heard the clanging of a tool against the engine.

“Nope,” you contradicted him. “I’m no actress. I’m actually a writer. Screenwriter, to be exact,” you explained proudly.

“Really?” he asked, an impressed tone in his voice. “That’s amazing. Do you write one specific genre or a variety?”

You smiled at his question, grateful that he took your confession in stride without any doubt at your ability. “Action and suspense, mostly. I did write a romantic comedy while I was in school, but it was so damn sappy I couldn’t even stand to read it afterwards.”

He chuckled, making you wish you could see his smiling face from where you stood beside the car. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. We’re always our own worst critic.”

You let out a sigh. “Maybe. My fellow classmates said it was pretty good. I just don’t feel like it’s my forte.”

At that last word, you heard the rolling wheels from underneath, then revealing Bucky. He sat up, catching your eye with a shrug. “Well, sometimes what we struggle with the most is how we grow as a person. Or an artist. ”

You considered his words of wisdom as he stood from his crouched position, wiping his hands on a rag. Bucky had a smudge of grease on his neck and you had the strongest urge to take that rag from his hands and brush your fingers against his skin while cleaning the spot yourself. A few strands from his bun had come loose, framing his face as a light sheen of sweat clung to his skin. In this dingy, hot garage, you thought he was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen.

Realizing you hadn’t shared a response, you cleared your throat and broke eye contact, blurting out the first thought in your head. “Hey, what’s that thing called? The rolling board thing?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s a creeper,” Bucky answered, nudging the contraption he had been lying on moments before with his booted foot.

You snorted involuntarily. “A what? A creeper? That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Bucky joined you in your laughter. “Yeah, it’s a pretty unusual name.”

As the laughter died down, you held his gaze for a moment longer than intended, snatched by the captivating, stormy-grey eyes meeting yours. He broke contact this time, reaching a hand out toward you and you realize he was asking for the flashlight in your grasp.

“Well, thanks for your help. I think I’ll be okay going solo for the oil change next,” he said with a grin, accepting the flashlight from you.

“Yeah, um…it’s no problem. I’ll, uh…I’ll get back to it then,” you replied with a nod, telling yourself the flush on your skin was from the heat of the day.

You spent the next few hours cleaning the garage’s cement floor which was covered in oil splotches. Once finished, you stood back to survey your work, wiping the back of your hand against your sweaty brow.

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the floor back to it’s original color. When you bought that can of Coke from the vending machine I thought you were just going to drink it,” Bucky said, impressed as he stood beside you.

“Drink it? Ick. No. After seeing what that stuff does to a greasy oil stain, what do you think it does to your insides?” you asked in reply, wrinkling your nose in distaste.

“Clears out all the grease?” he asked in a teasing tone.

You made a disgusted noise, nudging his side with your elbow as he burst out in laughter.

“Speaking of grease, do you wanna pick up some lunch from the diner? My treat. Nattie knows my usual and you can get whatever you want,” he offered, plucking a few bills from his wallet before handing them to you. “I’ll finish with this car and get cleaned up.”

“Sure,” you replied, accepting the cash and stashing it in your pocket. You ventured into the bathroom (which was a whole other cleaning project you had yet to tackle) and washed your hands before trekking the few blocks toward the diner.

You returned half an hour later with a bag in each hand. You hollered at Bucky that food was here and as he rounded the corner, you were gifted with a lovely surprise to see the handsome mechanic in only a tank top, having shed his work shirt in the summer heat. He reached up and released his bun, brunet hair cascading down with a shake of his head. You had noticed something on the underside of his left arm, but it was only a split second so you convinced yourself it may have been a trick of the light.

Both of you settled in the empty waiting room where it was slightly cooler with a struggling air conditioner sputtering in the corner. You ate out of the to-go containers with intermittent conversation. At first bite, you suddenly realized how hungry you actually were. The apple from that morning wasn’t very filling, you decided.

“So,” you said with a mouth full of food, then swallowing before you went on, “Did you always want to be a mechanic?”

“No,” Bucky replied with a small snort. “I’m not sure anyone truly has aspirations to become a grease monkey. Believe it or not, I thought I was gonna become a huge rockstar and make it big. I was in a band in high school and we stayed together a few years after we graduated. We actually weren’t too terrible and I got pretty decent at the guitar, but when my dad left, my uncle was shorthanded so I started helping out here at the shop. Turns out I’m pretty good at fixing cars and I don’t know. I just stuck with it. Plus we needed the money,” he stated as fact, then shoving a forkful in his mouth.

Setting down your own fork, you took a good look at him. Even knowing him such a short time, you could tell Bucky had untapped potential. He was a young, attractive, charismatic guy. He probably could have done any number of things with his life and succeeded. The fact that he just resigned himself to this life made you a little sad. “I’m sorry,” you spoke quietly. “About your dad, I mean.”

Bucky shrugged. “It was rough at first, but in the end, probably for the best.” He scraped the last of his food onto his fork and finished it off, then gathering up his trash. “Are you finished?” he asked you, gesturing toward the last few bites of your lunch.

You nodded and joined him in cleaning up. Following Bucky back into the garage, you both tossed your empty containers in the large trashcan. It was then that he noticed something sitting on on his workbench.

“What’s this?” he asked, holding up the cash that had been left there.

“Your change,” you answered simply.

He was silent a moment, probably calculating what his own meal normally cost. “This is too much. Did you pay for your own lunch?”

You nodded with a shrug, “I still owe you.”

He let out an exasperated sigh as he pulled his hair into a bun again. You weren’t mistaken, there was definitely a unique pattern of white lines and curves on his skin under his left arm near his bicep. “I said it was my treat, you didn’t have to do that. You’re paying me back already.”

Offering a smile, you just shrugged again. “I think I’ll tackle the office,” you said bluntly, biting back curiosity as you walked through the doorway and immersed yourself in the messy back room stacked with papers.

____________

Several hours and a trip to the office supply store later with having done so much filing you felt like your fingers were more paper cuts than skin, the small back room was finally organized. You’d run it all past Bucky later and make sure he could keep up with it for his own benefit, you thought as you stretched your sore muscles. 6 o’clock had rolled around and once again you were starving. You weren’t sure how late Bucky stayed open so you peeled yourself out of the vinyl chair and headed for the garage.

You didn’t see Bucky at first glance one again, so you peeked around cars, walking toward the far end of the garage where you hadn’t been yet. There was a small alcove just around the corner that wasn’t visible unless you knew it was there. Turning the corner, you were surprised to see Bucky sitting in the back of a car with a bottle of beer in his hand. Oddly enough, the car had no roof. Or doors. Basically it was a bench seat wrapped in black leather inside a bare car frame. Bucky took a sip and then noticed you standing there.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “All done?”

You nodded, stepping forward. “You?”

“Yep,” he confirmed, then letting the moment fall into comfortable silence.

Feeling courageous, you climbed into the car and took a seat on the bench beside him. “How long ago did you finish?” you asked him, rubbing at a grease spot on your arm you’d just noticed.

“About 20 minutes ago. I peeked in and saw you were about done so I didn’t want to interrupt. You were muttering to yourself about the necessity of last names on customer receipts, then you sang a few seconds of the Alphabet song to find the proper file. It was cute,” he said with a chuckle, then offering the beer bottle to you. “I would have brought another but I wasn’t sure if you were a drinker or not.”

Your eyes flickered between the beer and him, cheeks enflamed from realizing he had been watching and listening earlier. You accepted the cold beer from him, hyper aware of the fact that his lips had been on it a second ago. Holding his gaze, you took a swig and then handed the bottle back to him. His eyes dropped to your lips as you licked them, then back up to meet your eyes.

“So,” you finally spoke, glancing at your surroundings. “Is this a project of yours? This car?”

Clearing his throat, he nodded. “I”m hoping to restore it completely eventually, but it’s a slow process. Parts on classic cars are expensive and I don’t have a lot of time these days. But eventually, it’s going to be a ’67 Chevy Impala. Such a great car.”

You nodded, trying to picture what it would be like one day. For some reason that specific make and model sounded familiar to you with an image of a shiny black car roaring down the highway flashing in your mind, maybe from a movie or tv show.

Bucky was playing with the label on his beer bottle when he spoke again. “So, I was thinking of going out to dinner at this great Italian place in town tonight. Would you like to join me?”

“Really?” you asked in shock.

“Okay, so it’s the ONLY Italian place around here, but it’s still pretty good,” he admitted with a grin, still awaiting your response.

“Um…sure. That sounds great. Good as the diner is, I’m not sure I could handle a fourth meal in two days,” you said, pulling a face.

He laughed, “Understandable. I’ve done it, but wouldn’t recommend it.”

You echoed his laughter for a moment. “I should probably get cleaned up though…” you trailed off, looking down at your sweaty, grease-covered clothes.

“Oh, yeah, me too,” he agreed. “I can drop you off and then pick you up around 7:30?”

“That sounds perfect,” you grinned, climbing out of the car with Bucky following you.

As you waved goodbye to Bucky and shut the door to your motel room, your mind went into panic mode. Was this a date? Did you pack anything date-worthy? How much scrubbing would it take to get the grease out of your skin and fingernails? Taking a deep breath, you let go of those worries as excitement for tonight crept in.

You had a date with Bucky Barnes. Maybe.

_______________

Part Four>>>

____________________________________________________________

Aaaahhh!!!! I’m so excited you guys!!! I’m having SO much fun with this fic. :D How’d you like those Easter Egg car references. ;) Gotta use what limited car knowledge I have! haha. Are you ready for this maybe-date with Bucky??? Get excited, cause I am! I love you guys! Any feedback and comments are appreciated! <3

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wrenwritesometimes · 7 years

Text

Muse

A/N: Here's the second entry of mine to (@mysaintsasinner) Mara’s Supernatural Song Challenge! For this one, it's Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away” with the pairing being: Dean x OC.

Edit, a few days after due date of challenge: I fucked uP and didn't get it in by the due date, but I got too much out of this to abandon it!

Edit, a few weeks after the text above: THEN I got a dose of Typical Teenage Depression and woh where did that one come from.

I'm hoping I'm feeling better, cuz I finally was able to finish this, read through it, and edit it - in one whole sitting!

Edit, a few weeks after the text above this patch: I'm okay! All's okay. This one was a bit of laziness on my part.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Pete (OC), Winnie (OC)

Warnings: Cussing, missing, last one was a typo for kissing but it applies too I guess, underage drinking, bars, I'm just listing normal things by now whoops

Final Warning: this is yet another part one to something because Wrenny couldn't keep it simple

Final, Final Warning: song lyrics are implied text or references, not actual song tidbits

Nights were almost as warm as the days were, around here.

The bars were humid, and the people had a permanent sheen of moisture upon their skin.

There was only one air conditioned bar in the entire town, and Winnie had the pleasure of working there.

She was a pleasant girl, little over twenty-four, and suffered through most anything to get money to feed herself and her brother. She was endeared to the motorcycle gangs that passed through, therefore safe from anything drastic; but despite this, she became quietly haggard and exasperated.

Tonight, she felt particularly numb to emotion, so when a regular seemed drunk from drinking his woes away, she decided she'd rather help him than feel sorry for herself.

“Winnie!” the regular greeted rambunctiously.

“Charles!” She replied as jovially as she could manage.

“Whaddaya doin’ here so late, huh?”

Winnie shrugged, pouring Charles’ usual and setting it before him. He was the only patron at the bar currently… it was 3:14am on a Thursday. “Jen needed this shift filled.”

Charles nodded. “You've been good, doll? It's been awhile since I've seen ya.”

Winnie grinned softly at the rough’n’tough biker that stopped by any chance he had, bandanas, sunglasses, and tans to boot. “I've been as well as I've ever been.” The smile felt heavy on her face. “How ‘bout you, Chuck?”

Charles chuckled and heaved a sigh. “I've been better. I think Kinny left me for good this time.”

Winnie scoffed. “That's a damn shame to hear. But maybe it's for the best.”

When Charles didn't buck up, Winnie settled further onto the bar. “If you don't mind me, the humble barkeep, sayin’ so, Chuck… she was never very good to you.”

Charles’ dark brown eyes were penetrating and resigned as he stared at the bartender. Winnie offered a soft, sad smile before she went to get the dishes from the kitchen to dry.

When she brought the glasses out, Charles was still quiet and contemplative.

“Wanna turn on the news or somethin’, Chuck?” Winnie offered, placing the tub of glasses on the bar with a bit of a struggle.

Charles shook his head, rotating the empty glass of whiskey around its rim. “I'll settle for good conversation with a lovely lady.” He offered a subdued smile that still set his eyes alight with a kind gleam.

Winnie scoffed kindly. “I'm not too good at conversation, Chuck.”

Charles laughed in return. “You know that's a lie, kid.”

Winnie shrugged and set out the glasses in order of height, sighing. “What do you wanna talk about?” she asked, the bags under her eyes feeling like barbells.

Charles shrugged and looked around the bar. His eyes fell upon the barkeep and shrugged as he motioned to her. “I don't know too much ‘bout you, now that I think about it.”

Winnie grimaced slightly. “Well…” she hedged. “Whaddaya wanna know?”

Charles looked at her for a long minute before asking the question she dreaded:

“You ever been in love?”

She was quiet and still for a long time, her ears red under her hair.

“Once.”

It was the summer after high school that I first met him…

It was a magical atmosphere in my town, the senior class of my school all being friendly and amicably affiliated… there were massive lake trips and large parties that could knock your socks off and your sister up, if you weren't careful.

I hadn't ever really been “attracted” to anyone in my town, so “by definition”, I was either gay or fucked in the head… but truth was, I just really didn't want my cousins screwing me. We were a painfully small town, and if you had actually done your freshman ancestry project (which is precisely what I'd done), you'd know that truly every-fucking-one in this town was related.

It was odd, and gross… and I tried not to think about it too hard.

Anyway. That magical summer time was when I heard it. The roar of her engine...

He called her Baby, but I called her Mustang… since I was dumb enough to have mistook her engine’s tune for one. It wasn't a mustang, but a gorgeous ‘67 Chevy Impala; in stunning shape, too.

I saw her drive past as I worked on cleaning the “patio seating” - or half-rotted wooden picnic benches - at my job at O’Briens’. I was supposed to be a waitress at O’Briens’ Steer N’Styne, but I wound up being a busboy and other grosser jobs as well as hostess and before long… underage barkeep. Too many others were worried about colleges and boyfriends and girlfriends and drugs…

I wasn't going to college. Wasn't smart or rich enough. I just needed money to keep my brother fed and sheltered. Parents weren't in the picture anymore.

It was the day that Chevy Impala revved up the road that I saw him. Jaw that could cut glass and eyes that could pierce the very soul of even the toughest biker chick in this town.

The first thing they did after parking in the motel directly across the way, was stop at O’Brien’s to eat.

The younger boy - I guess, fourteen at the time, I think - was named Sam. He introduced me to his brother, Dean, but not his father. Apparently only Dean and I noticed the hard glare the dark haired man gave his hazel-eyed son.

“Nice to meet y’all,” I had said compliantly. “Do y'all need time with the menu before you decide?”

“I'll just have a coffee, black,” the man grunted.

I nodded and looked to Sam and Dean, my eyes lingering on Dean’s clenched fists.

“Can I have pancakes and milk?” Sam asked.

“Anything you'd like, kid,” I replied with a true smile, one that even released my rarely seen dimple. God, he reminded me so much of my own brother.

“Anything for you, Dean?” I couldn't help the slight twinge of ‘I'm humoring him’ in my voice as I looked at the older brother, and I didn't miss the shift in his expression as he looked up at me with a calm gleam in his green eyes, the skin around them crinkling slightly as he smiled.

“I'll have the same as Sammy,” he said in a voice almost mimicking his father’s, but it was different in some way I couldn't really identify. I laughed as Sam argued that his name wasn't Sammy, and left to give them their drinks.

Needless to say, I liked him and he liked me.

“And what kind of music do you listen to?” He asked, still distasteful, but clearly teasing.

“I love blues… can’t stand anything but,” I said. “Well, except for one more modern band.” I reached for my backpack. “I actually have a tape of my favorite ‘modern band’ with me.”

“Well, pop it in,” he replied after a beat of silence.

Radiohead’s “OK Computer” first track of “Airbag” pumped through the Impala’s speakers.

“Ahh, so nineties rock,” Dean said nodding as if saying ‘typical’.

I socked his shoulder and laughed. “We’re still in the nineties, and I'm still seventeen, so I think I'm safe. At least for another two weeks.”

Dean started to smirk, but he smothered it, shrugging. “I dunno, I think it might be a dealbreaker.”

I playfully gasped, laughing at him immediately after. “Deal breaker, huh? Have you even listened to anything past the eighties?”

Dean chuckled, a breath passing through his nose. The laugh was all in his eyes, though. I knew he was happy.

“I have, and that's exactly why I'm sticking to the eighties. Take this trash outta this beautiful car.”

I laughed again and almost wanted to be mad at myself for laughing too much. I needed to shut up, didn't I? I probably sounded dumb.

“I like your laugh,” he suddenly said, and I only laughed again; quieter, more bashfully and almost nervous.

“Thanks,” I replied uneasily, accidentally releasing an awkward silence to follow my words. “Wanna hear my favorite song on this tape, though?”

Dean seemed to shake himself, and he shrugged nonchalantly.

Fast-forwarding the tape to the sixth track was a familiar action and “Karma Police” started quickly.

“My favorite song on the album,” I said quietly, suddenly self-conscious of everything I, as a person, liked and did in front of Dean.

He was reclined in the driver’s seat, his arms propped up on the backrest as well as the sill of the driver’s window. His left hand had his head propped up and he nodded his head to the beat of the song.

I felt myself biting my lip once. I wanted him to like this song despite evidence showing he wouldn't. I couldn't describe the feeling I was struggling with. It wasn't shyness, I didn't feel small.

There was just tension.

I peeked over to Dean and saw he was already looking at me.

I laughed softly and tried to look back at the dash, but something kept my eyes on Dean.

Casually he scooted from his spot in front of the wheel, to slightly more in the middle; and motioned me to come closer as well. I wanted to stay put; the tension-feeling I felt finally started feeling like it was a rubber band that was threatening to snap at my stomach…

But I moved anyway.

The rubber band snapped as his lips met mine somewhat suddenly. I didn't react for a moment, just stared wide-eyed at his own half-lidded eyes. Then he moved his lips just a fraction, his warm tongue moving gently over my own lips, and I was gone.

We made out in the Mustang to Radiohead.

It was finally my eighteenth birthday.

Dean took me to a tattoo parlor, to my surprise. He took serious a late-night, totally-not-sober conversation to heart.

“What should I get?” I asked Dean, accidentally beaming at him. I did that a lot around him…

Dean grinned down at me, and kissed my cheekbone. “Anything you want. My treat.”

He spooned my back as we stood at the counter; I was short enough to be comfortably under him as he leaned both hands on the counter. It was like I was in a Dean Cave as I leafed through the tattoo art samples.

I liked it. I felt safe.

I actually zoned out and missed a few pages, but I was brought back to attention when Dean’s ringed hand rested on a certain laminated page.

I looked over the designs on both sides and pursed my lips, uninterested in any. It was more metal/punk designs.

I nudged Dean’s hand, signaling I wanted to go on, but Dean’s hand stayed put. I looked up at him curiously, and noticed that Dean had that far off, thinking look in his eye.

“Dean?”

That snapped him out of it.

“What about this one?” He asked, his tone hollow, nonchalant. I looked down his arm to where his finger now pointed.

“A pentagram?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

“A pentagram.”

“Yeah,” he repeated, even more hollow and nonchalant sounding.

“Dean, are you okay? You sound weird.”

“I'm fine, Winnie,” he snapped playfully. “I think you should get that one.”

“I dunno…” I hesitantly objected. “I'm not really into that kinda stuff…”

Dean seemed too quiet for a long moment.

Sighing, I made up my mind. “One condition.”

“Anything,” Dean responded, sounding grateful. Why?

“You have to get it too. I'll pay for yours, you pay for mine.”

Dean was silent.

“Shouldn't be too expensive, if we don't get them too fanc--mmph!” Dean interrupted me with a strong kiss.

“I like it.”

“Okay,” I replied laughingly, confused but amused. Bemused.

I couldn't help but feel a bit emotional as I watched Sam and Dean teach my brother how to shoot pool as I worked.

I laughed at first, brushing it off. But when I had a moment to breathe, I found my breath heavy as I looked at them. I found myself smiling big, and I had to sniffle a bit before moving on.

When I finally was relieved of my shift, I joined them at the tables and greeted my kid brother with a playful ruffle of his messy hair, a pat to Sam’s shoulder, and a kiss on Dean’s cheek.

“Hey there, Winnie,” Dean greeted quietly, a flirtatious smirk teasing me.

“Hey there, Dean,” I mimicked, grinning. “Thanks for teaching this kid how to be useful.”

Dean shook his head, chuckling as Pete socked me in the side in response. “No problem at all. Dad didn't want us around today.”

I looked to Sam and smiled warmly. “Need anything to eat, you guys?”

I settled Pete and Sam at one of the tables and Dean joined me in finding the waitress of the section we left them in.

We stayed away from Sam and Pete for as long as we could; as long as until the waitress - Clara - made her way to ‘em.

He held my waist from behind as we waited at the bar, swaying softly to the beat of the shitty country music the owner loved so much.

I felt his warm, calloused hand trail up my forearm and bend my elbow so he could see the tattoo on my arm. He ran his thumb over it.

“What inspired you to get the pentagram?” I wondered out loud, looking up at him over my shoulder.

Dean shrugged. “Looked cool.”

I snorted. “Okay.”

Dean sighed, but left it alone, turning me around and placing his hands on either side of my jaw. He closed his eyes briefly as he pressed my forehead to his.

I felt my brow furrow. “What's up, Dean?”

He opened his eyes and I was lost in them at this close range.

“Just… nothin’.” He shook his head and created space between our faces. “Clara’s going to Sammy and Pete.”

I nodded and glanced over his shoulder at my friend, but I looked back up at him and held his hands in place.

“Love you.”

Dean seemed to freeze, but I was comfortable with what I had said.

“Now, what inspired that,” Dean asked, his tone sad, but his eyes crinkling.

It’s all in the eyes.

I shrugged with a small, understanding smile. “I guess you're my muse.”

Listening to Johnny Cash was our music medium.

“If I Were A Carpenter” played on a stereo Dean had hauled to the roof for us to listen to.

“You should leave with me,” he said quietly after the song ended. “It could be us against the world… June to my Johnny.”

I got caught up in that goofy smile of his when he made a corny joke and a whirlwind of thought.

I could move from this town.

I could run away with Dean.

I could leave.

I could go.

But... No. I couldn't.

“My brother,” I murmured breathlessly, apologetically.

Dean’s eyes, however, only lit up in understanding and admiration. At least, that's how I read it. I missed one emotion, though; guilt.

“I can dig that,” he said softly, fiddling with my hand. “I wouldn't leave some podunk town if it meant uprooting Sam… he's already uprooted.”

I gave him a scolding glance. “That isn't your fault, Dean,” I defended. Dean knew how I felt about their father. He just shrugged. “Feels like it sometimes. Especially when kids pick on him for not having friends.”

I looked over to him. “That shits’ started again?” Dean nodded, looking ahead at the field my house sat on. “It's been, what… two months?” I asked, beside myself. Dean nodded again. “I swear to god, I hate kids.” Dean’s head swiveled to me, but I kept looking ahead.

“You hate kids?” Dean asked, somewhat confused. I looked to him and shrugged guiltily. “I hate the brats,” I clarified uneasily. “My grandpa had this saying, before he died… he was a teacher for, I think, thirty-eight years. He used to say, ‘Show me deplorable children, and I'll show you deplorable parents’.”

Dean chuckled, taking a swig of the bottle of whiskey I had jacked from the old liquor cabinet in the house.

“I think I'd want kids,” Dean murmured in that gruff way he got when he was serious, offended, or angry. He seemed calm, so I looked over and smiled softly. He offered the bottle to me and I took it. “Maybe one of each… but that won't be for a long, long time.”

I couldn't help but feel sad. He said that so downheartedly...

“I’d want a boy,” I said, taking a swing and settling into his side, his arm going over my shoulders. “I’d wanna teach him how not to be.” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “I dig that.” We were both silent for a moment before he spoke again.

“I’d want a boy to teach him about the impala… teach him how to take care of her. I'd want a girl to spoil. I think I'd like being wrapped around a little girl’s finger.”

I grinned at him and studied him. I found myself doing that recently. I'd just look at his features… take him in.

How green his eyes were, how his freckles showed more at sunset than any other time of day. How blonde his hair could be…

My smile faded, and I felt unafraid all of a sudden. “Dean?” I asked. “Mm.”

“What do you and your father do?”

Dean was painfully silent for a long moment, his eyes moving from me back to the field.

“The family business.”

It didn't hit me until I was smiling in bed, thinking upon my day with Dean.

It didn't hit me.

But when it did, it felt like cinderblocks.

“FuCK,” I hissed as I bolted from my room, barely remembering to grab a jacket, before getting to my truck.

He was leaving today. He was leaving, and I missed it. He didn't say anything explicit to insinuate he was… But why would he ask if I wanted to leave with him? Why would he have given me that serious of a goodnight?

I broke any speed limits in this stupid town to get the the motel they’d made their home. I slammed on my breaks with a cry when I didn't see the impala.

Anywhere.

Ever again.

Charles’ seemed sober now. Sober and somber.

“Sounded like a good kid,” he said gruffly.

She nodded. “He was.” The words sounded soft and sad.

“In another life,” she sighed softly. “I would’ve been his… no broken promises. It would've been good.”

Charles looked sadly at his friendly neighborhood barkeep and laid out money for his drinks, and a good healthy tip.

“You should get home, Winnie,” he said gently. He took her hand and laid a ticklish kiss to her knuckles. “You look very tired.”

Winnie nodded and waved as Charles drove away on his bike.

The bar felt hollow and lonely as she stood there, her hands resting a shoulder width apart.

She didn't collect her money, and she didn't move. She just stood there and stared as the sun rose.

Her eyes slowly wandered down to the pentagram on her arm.

She sniffed, clenched her jaw, collected her tip, and put the rest of the cash in the register.

She went on cleaning glasses until she saw her coworker pull up.

Four Years Later…

Dean never expected to see the the neon green sign of O’Briens’ shining on his hood again.

Memories of driving up flickered through his head like a film skipping in a projector.

He looked over to Sam to see the behemoth looking up at the sign too, a similar look of familiarity on his face.

“Hey, is this where w--”

“Yeah,” Dean interrupted Sam with a quiet sense of finality. He pulled into the motel parking lot and they went in the lobby to check in.

“You'll have room fifteen, right to the left if you walk out the door,” the old man grunted kindly, nodding in the direction he instructed.

Sam thanked him and left the lobby, expecting Dean behind him, but the elder brother lagged, hesitantly approaching the desk again.

“Can I help you?”

Dean nodded distractedly, looking over his shoulder. “Y-yeah… do you know if a girl named Winnie still works over at O’Briens’? Pentagram tattoo on her forearm?” Dean gestured to his his own forearm as he asked.

The motel owner seemed blank-faced for a very long time before he pursed his lips suspiciously. He nodded guardedly and answered with a curt “yeahp”. “She don't have the tattoo anymore, though. Got somethin’ else to cover it up.”

Dean’s face became carefully blank, and he nodded his thanks.

He walked to the Impala but couldn't see Sam in sight. He checked the room, but the door was locked and dusty.

He looked across the street to O’Briens’ and noticed a very tall head of hair walking into the door.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered to himself and was stuck debating whether to follow Sam or to lock himself in the motel room.

The moment he entered the building, the smell of beer, musk, and good food flooded Sam with memories.

The place hadn't changed a smidge in eighteen years.

Sam chuckled in nostalgic disbelief as he took in details he hadn't noticed in the decor and wandered to the pool tables.

“Howdy, sir, is there anything we can get you today?”

The voice was familiar, if not deeper now.

Sam turned and saw her.

She didn't look like a young woman anymore; her eyes looked heavy yet still just as meaningful and kind. She was thin and lean, but she had muscular biceps and more curved hips. Her hair was longer than he remembered, in a long french braid, and a deeper blonde. She had a tattoo sleeve on her left arm now, a flowing visual of a vine of flowers.

“Hello?” She chuckled, snapping her fingers briefly, a brief look of polite concern on her face.

Sam shook himself free of whatever had possessed him to become so still and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, are you… Winnie?”

She furrowed her brow slightly, but smiled nonetheless. “Yeah, that'd be me. Who wants to know?”

Sam smiled softly. “Hopefully you remember me.” He laughed. “I was fifteen when we were here last.”

She smiled despite confusion and shook her head.

“Um, my name’s Sam. Sam Winchester. Brother called me Sammy?”

The smile vanished as soon as he uttered “Winchester”. Her deep blue eyes bounced to over Sam’s shoulder and to the door of O’Briens’ and back.

Sam smiled sympathetically. “Sorry to barge in like this… but we were in town and I wanted to see what was done with the place. Hasn't changed one bit.”

Winnie still just stared.

“You still look as beautiful as ever,” he continued, quiet and genuine.

Winnie shook her head free of her stillness and she brought a hand up to her forehead in silent disbelief.

Finally she managed to speak, croaking, “We?”

Taglist:

@notnaturalanahi @wordstothewisereaders @violinmyhead

#SPN #SPN Family #Mara's Supernatural Song Challenge #Super Late #Dean Winchester x Winnie (OC)#Dean x OC #One That Got Away #proud of this #Sam Winchester #Mean John Winchester #Long Term Stay In A Certain Town idk #im tired

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nazariolahela · 4 years

Text

Best Beloved: Chapter 3

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow @lady-calypso @irishwhiskys-blog

This chapter contains scenes of underage drinking. Please read at your own risk.

Synopsis: What happens when you find yourself crushing on your best friend? For years, Damien and Kaia have been best friends, while secretly harboring feelings for one another. Everything changes one night after a little too much alcohol and years of pent up feelings. Can they control their emotions and salvage their friendship, or will the feelings they hold for one another destroy everything they have?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: The gang attends their first college football game and frat party.

Kaia

I laid back on my bed and threw my arm over my head, my phone pressed to my ear. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear to a college football game, Nadia. Can you please come over and help me?”

She laughed. “Just wear something with the school logo on it. You’re telling me you don’t have anything Bobcats in your closet?”

I sighed. “No, I forgot to run over to the bookstore and pick up a shirt. Do you think they’re still open?”

“You can grab one at the team store on the way to the game. They’re always open before kickoff. Just throw a cute tank top on and slip the shirt over it. Or change in the bathroom.”

I huffed and shoved a Twizzler in my mouth. “Fine. I gotta let you go so I can jump in the shower. Text me when you’re on your way.”

“Will do,” she singsonged and hung up the phone. I dropped mine on the mattress next to me and tried to work up the courage to get up. The mattress wasn’t the most comfortable, but after the crazy first week of classes I had, it was more tempting than getting up to go to a football game. Or a frat party. My roommate Victoria marched in, holding a bag under her arm.

“Just call me your fairy godmother,” she said, tossing the bag on my bed. I sat up and looked inside, seeing a Hartfeld Bobcats t-shirt inside.

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

“Bought one last weekend, but it was the wrong size. I’ve been meaning to take it back, but I never got around to it. Try it on. If it fits, you can have it.”

I jumped off the bed and pulled the shirt from the bag, slipping it on over my black cami. I gasped when it fit like a glove. I stood in front of the floor-length mirror in our dorm room, checking myself out. Daaaamn, I looked fine! I engulfed her in a hug. “You’re the best!”

“It was nothing really. Go have a great time at the game. And tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“You’re not going?” I asked.

“Nah. I met this guy the other night and we have our first date tonight. He’s taking me to this Italian restaurant the next town over. Apparently, the plates are bigger than your head.”

“Ooh! New guy? Dish,” I probed. I didn’t know much about my roommate’s love life. Mainly because she kept things like that to herself. Although, I did find out that first night we hung out that she lost her virginity to some guy named Spike. She told me he roared like a motorcycle when he came. We laughed about it for a good twenty minutes.

She turned crimson, hiding her face behind her long black locks. “Well...his name is Drake. He moved here for school from some foreign country named Cordonia, but he doesn’t have an accent. I think he said his family is from Texas, but he grew up overseas. He’s kind of brooding. Wears a lot of denim. I really like him.”

I squealed and pinched her cheeks. “Well, good luck. And if you bring him back to the dorm, put a sock over the doorknob so I know not to interrupt anything.” She blushed and I winked at her. “Okay, I gotta hit the shower. My cousin will be here shortly.” I grabbed my clothes, a towel, and my shower caddy and made my way down the hall to the shared bathroom in our dorm. Thankfully there wasn’t a line, so I took the first open stall.

After my shower, I slipped on my favorite pair of Levi’s jeans and the Bobcats shirt Victoria gave me. I applied neutral eyeshadow, false lashes, a light sweep of blush, and a swipe of nude lipstick on my lips, checked my reflection one last time, and headed back to my dorm. My phone chimed with a text from Nadia announcing that she was on her way, so I grabbed my crossbody and a hoodie in case it got chilly and headed downstairs. I saw Nadia and Sloane sitting in the cab of a royal blue 1990s Chevy Silverado pickup.

“What is this?” I asked, holding my hands out.

Nadia jumped out of the driver’s seat and rounded the vehicle, swinging her arms out like she was Vanna effing White and this truck was the grand prize. “You like? It’s Steve’s. He’s letting us borrow it to go to the game.”

I scrunched up my nose, examining the beat-up body of the pickup. Is...is that a racing stripe?

Sloane remained in the truck, fiddling with the dials on the in-dash radio. “Come on, you two! We’re going to be late,” she shouted from the front seat. My eyes darted to Nadia, then back to Sloane. I sighed and moved over to the passenger’s side, crawling up onto the bench seat next to Sloane.

We drove the five minutes it took to get from the dorms to the Robert Q. Harris Memorial Stadium, going over our game plan for the night. As we pulled up in the parking lot, we noticed a tailgate in progress.

“Ooh! This is going to be exciting! Your first tailgate, Sloane!” Nadia squealed. She pulled into a spot and put the truck in park. “Okay, girls. Here are your pom-poms,” she said, handing Sloane and I each a pom wand. We exited the truck and walked over to where some other students were playing beer pong.

“Oh, my gods! I’ve heard of this game, but I’ve never seen it played up-close,” Sloane said, clutching her hands to her chest. She moved toward the table and watched the two guys in Bobcats jerseys line up their shots. The first guy’s ball bounced off the rim of the red Solo cup, and his companions all groaned in frustration.

“I’m usually way better than this,” the guy protested as his friends laughed at him. We watched a few more rounds of the game before moving on to another group. Three girls in cut-off Bobcats t-shirts were holding a funnel and a tube above another girl’s head and pouring beer into the funnel.

“Why are those girls drinking beer out of a funnel?” Sloane asked.

“That’s a beer bong. They do this so they can get drunk faster,” I explained to her. She nodded her head, watching the girls in concentration as they assisted their friend in “funneling” her beer, then cheering when she finished it.

“Fascinating,” Sloane said, observing the girls as they lined up for another hit. We made our way through the parking lot, stopping occasionally at different groups to check out their tailgating activities. After several minutes, we made it to the stadium gates. Nadia fished our tickets out of her purse and handed them to the attendant. He scanned our tickets and let us through. We walked through the concourse, checking out the different food and drinks offered at the concession stands. We found our gate and made our way to our seats.

We took our seats and settled in, squeezing into the front row of the bleachers, right behind the home bench. A guy in a BU Wolves jersey sitting at the end of our row slid across the bench and wrapped his arm around Sloane’s shoulder.

“Hey, cutie! You here to check out a little sports ball? Greg here will tell you all you need to know. So, the guys in burgundy are the home team. They’re who you need to root for. That weird spherical object in the middle of the field is called a football. That’s the name of the sport.”

Nadia leaned over and gave the guy a death glare. “Excuse me! Are you actually trying to mansplain football to my friend?”

He raised his hands in defense. “Calm down, babe. I’m just trying to help her out. She doesn’t look like she’s ever watched a game in her life.”

“Who are you to assume she’s never watched football because of how she looks? Get lost, creep,” I spat out.

Sloane cleared her throat. “I’ve got this, girls.” She straightened her glasses and turned to the guy. “For your information, I’ve watched plenty of organized sports. Did you know that the main physical actions of American football, such as blocking, running, and tackling illustrate several fundamental concepts in physics, biomechanics, and math? It’s quite interesting to calculate how many pounds of water a player loses on the field or how much energy it takes to stop a running back in a full-on sprint.” She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked at the guy. He hung his head sheepishly and got up from his seat, scurrying away embarrassed. Nadia and I sat there in awe, then dogpiled her in a group hug.

“Have I told you you’re my hero?” I asked her.

“I’m dating the first-string wide receiver and I didn’t even know that,” Nadia chimed. Sloane laughed and returned our hug before turning her attention back to the field. Both teams were announced and we leaped from our seats and cheered as Steve jogged past us to the bench. He spotted us in the crowd and shot Nadia a wink.

The game kicked off and the Bobcats received the ball first. The quarterback threw a 20-yard pass to Steve on the first play, and he took it to the house an additional 60-yards to put the first points on board. I thought Nadia was going to pass out with how hard she was screaming and jumping up and down.

The opposing team got the ball next and their running back broke through the line on the first snap for a 45-yard play before he was tackled by the Bobcats defense. They drove down the field on the next play and tied it up. Both teams went score for score throughout the game, and it came down to a tied score of 35-35 during the final two minutes of the fourth quarter.

The Bobcats had the ball at their own 45-yard line. It was 3rd and 2. The running back lined up in the backfield while Steve lined up off the line of scrimmage to block and wait for the center to snap the ball. The QB called an audible at the line and when the ball was snapped, he slung it to a wide-open Steve, who danced down the sideline 50-yards as time expired to give the Bobcats a 42-35 win. Nadia tossed her popcorn and her pom in the air as the stadium erupted in cheers. Steve’s teammates engulfed him as they celebrated on the field.

We filed out of the stadium and waited by the team entrance for Steve to arrive. When he emerged a few minutes later, Nadia took off in a dead sprint and leaped into his arms, nearly tackling him to the ground.

“YOU DID IT, BABY! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU,” she shouted as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, peppering his face with kisses. Sloane and I watched in amusement as Nadia and Steve mauled each other in the parking lot.

“Okay, lovebirds. Let’s save some of this for the afterparty,” I said, rolling my eyes. Steve set Nadia down and we made our way to where his truck was parked. We climbed in and set off for the Delta Mu Kappa house.

When we pulled up to the curb, the party was spilling out onto the front lawn of the frat house. We exited the pickup and weaved through the throngs of partygoers to enter the house. The bass thumped through the room and dancers moved erratically to the beat on the makeshift dance floor.

Steve held Nadia’s hand and guided us through the living room to the keg set up in the kitchen. The guy operating the tap extended his hand to Steve for a high-five, which he returned, then poured beer in cups for him and Nadia. He then offered Sloane and I a drink. I declined, but Sloane accepted. The guy poured her a beer and she took a sip, a dollop of foam coating the tip of her nose. Her face turned up in disgust.

“This tastes awful,” she said, wiping the foam off her nose and upper lip and handing the cup back to him.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Steve laughed, taking a sip of his own. Nadia pulled on Steve’s arm, urging him to the dance floor. He nodded at Sloane and I, then followed her to the living room. Keg Guy pointed to a red cooler and offered us a couple of Smirnoff Ice Wild Grapes. Sloane and I took the drinks, clinking the bottles together in cheers, then each took a swig.

“Oh my gods, this is delicious,” she shouted over the loud music. We leaned against the kitchen counter, scanning the crowd. After a few minutes, she noticed someone from her Spanish Comp class and excused herself to say hi. I continued to crowd watch, sipping on my Smirnoff, when I noticed Damien striding toward the keg. His eyes met mine and a grin spread across his face.

“This doesn’t look like your scene,” I said to him.

“Yours either,” he retorted.

I laughed. “Touché. Nadia’s boyfriend invited us. At least the refreshments are top-notch.” I tipped my drink up to him. He chuckled and moved over to the keg, grabbing a fresh beer from Keg Guy. He nodded thanks and walked back over to where I was standing.

“Nadia’s here? I’m going to have to say hi to her sometime tonight.”

“Yeah, she and Steve are out dry-humping on the dance floor.”

He threw back his head in laughter. Gods, I missed that laugh. “So, what do you think of your first college party so far?”

“Who said this was my first college party?”

“Just a guess. If it was, I’m sure we would have run into each other by now,” he said, taking a drink. “Nice shirt by the way. It looks good on you. Did you go to the game?”

I looked down at my shirt, noticing the way it hugged my curves. My cheeks flushed as I avoided his gaze. “Yeah, Nadia’s boyfriend is the star wide receiver so we went to watch him,” I said, brushing a piece of lint from my shirt.

“Mhmm, Tennyson. Yeah, he had a hell of a game. That 50-yard TD at the end was nuts. No one could cover him. The kid’s a machine.”

What a weird thing to say. I took another sip of my Smirnoff and scanned the crowd. “So, where’s your girlfriend tonight?”

He sputtered and started choking on his beer. I leaned over and slapped his back a few times until he regained his composure. He wiped the beads of beer dribbling down his chin with the back of his hand. “She’s around here somewhere. What about you?”

“My girlfriend is at home waiting for me. Parties aren’t really her thing.”

His eyes widened, which caused me to burst out laughing. “I’m kidding, I don't have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend for that matter. I’m just here with my friends. Who have all conveniently disappeared. But that means I can scout the local talent for my next boo.”

He cleared his throat and hid a smile with his cup. “Well, good luck with that. You have your pick of the litter with this new crop of freshmen. What about him over there?” He pointed his cup to the dance floor.

I squinted, trying to follow his line of sight, but with it being so dimly lit, I was having trouble making out most of the faces in the crowd. “Who?”

He leaned in to guide me to where he was looking and I got a whiff of his scent. Masculine. Earthy with hints of leather and sandalwood. I closed my eyes and inhaled, trying not to make it obvious. The smell caused the butterflies in my stomach to flutter wildly. Memories of our last night together flooded my mind and I took a step back and chugged the rest of my drink, trying to tamp down my urges. I spotted the guy he was pointing at — a shorter guy with curly brown hair and glasses — nursing his beer as he made eyes with different girls on the dance floor. “Wait...I-is that Brad?”

He burst out laughing and I leaned over to slap his arm. My palm touched his bicep and the firmness of his muscles against my hand caused my breath to catch. I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. “Not funny, dude.”

“It was worth a shot. Hey, I’ll be right back. I gotta hit the head,” he set his empty cup on the counter behind me and winked as he moved through the crowd toward the bathrooms. I watched him until he disappeared from sight and clutched the empty bottle in my hand, willing my nerves to calm. You can do this, Kaia. It’s just Damien.

But could I?

***

Damien

I made my way through the packed fraternity house, trying not to bump into anyone as I headed for the bathroom. When I reached my destination, the door was shut and only one person was waiting. I leaned against the wall and tapped my fingers against my thigh. The door swung open and a drunk guy stumbled out, allowing the girl in front of me to enter.

I looked back toward the kitchen and could still see Kaia leaning against the kitchen counter. The strobe lights danced off her features as she was leaning over talking to the kid manning the keg. Whatever he said made her throw her head back in laughter. A tinge of jealousy coursed through me. Why was I jealous? She wasn’t mine. And besides, I had a girlfriend. Somewhere in this house. Speaking of. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent her a text, asking her where she was.

The girl in the bathroom came out, and I entered. I shut the door and leaned forward, resting my hands on the sink. Staring at my reflection, I sucked in a deep breath and tried to get my emotions in check. Having Kaia back in my life after four years was fucking with my head. When she laughed, I wanted to do everything possible to keep hearing that sound. When I leaned in to point Brad out to her on the dance floor, her hair brushed against my nose and I inhaled the scent of her shampoo. It smelled like lavender and rosemary. When she smacked my bicep, I wanted to grab her wrist and pull her to me, to feel her body pressed against mine.

My phone chimed with a text from Alana, breaking me from my Kaia spell. She said she was in the backyard and asked where I was. I gave her my location, then set my phone back down on the sink and turned on the cold water faucet. I cupped my hands and splashed water on my face. A few moments later, someone knocked and I heard Alana’s voice on the other side. I swung the door open and she strutted inside, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it.

“Well, looks like we’re all alone in here, huh?” she said, sashaying across the bathroom to where I was standing. “Why don’t we pick up where we left off since we were so rudely interrupted the other day?” She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my head down, capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

“Alana, baby. We can’t. Not in here.”

“Why not? We’ve never done it in the bathroom of a frat house before. It could be fun.” She said, pulling the shell of my ear between her teeth.

“What if someone comes in?”

She backed away from me and locked the door, never breaking eye contact. “Better?” she said, arching her eyebrow. I sighed and moved in, kissing and sucking the curve of her neck. She brought her hands up to my hair, raking her fingers through the thick strands. “See, this isn’t so bad, is it?”

I growled into her neck and dragged my hands down her hips, catching the hem of her shirt and pulling it up. When my fingers skimmed the strip of skin, she inhaled sharply. Our lips crashed together and she scraped her nails across my scalp. My fingers trailed lightly up her ribcage and brushed against the lace trim of her bra, causing her grip on my hair to tighten. A loud pounding on the other side of the door startled us.

“Yo, you about done in there, bro? Some of us gotta take a piss,” A guy’s voice called out.

Alana growled, “Motherfucker!” She huffed and pushed herself off of me. Fuming, she straightened her clothes, checked herself in the mirror and yanked the bathroom door open. The drunk frat bro on the other side jumped when she appeared.

“Whoa! I didn’t know it was this kind of party! Hey, baby! If you’re done with this dude, I believe it’s my turn,” he said, reaching out to stroke her arm.

She rolled her eyes and brought her knee to the frat bro’s groin, dropping him like a hot potato. The people in line behind him all groaned as Alana stomped away. I leaned down and rested my hand on the drunk guy’s shoulder. “You should probably learn how to talk to girls, bro,” I said, patting him a few times before walking off. I scanned the party for Alana, but when I couldn’t find her, I pulled out my phone and texted her to ask her where she went. Several minutes passed with no response, so I made my way back to the kitchen. I saw Kaia still standing in the same spot, talking to a girl with curly brown hair and glasses.

“Took you long enough. Did you fall in?” she said, raking her eyes up and down my body.

“Long line. It happens.” I turned to her friend, “Hi! I’m Damien. And who might you be?”

The girl extended her hand. “Sloane. Sloane Washington. So, you’re Kaia’s mysterious hot older friend. Wow, I can see why she’s so enamored by you,” she said, winking. My eyes darted to Kaia and her cheeks instantly turned pink.

“Sloane! What the hells?”

“Oh, whoops! Was I not supposed to say that out loud?” she giggled, slapping her hand over her mouth. “I probably should stop drinking these.”

I chuckled and turned back to Kaia. “Hot older friend, huh?”

Kaia looked down at the floor, her silky strands falling in her face. I resisted the urge to reach out and brush them away. “Don’t let it go to your head, Dames. You know how good you look.”

I cocked an eyebrow and Sloane giggled. “Well, thank you. I’m glad that my looks haven’t gone to shit yet. I figure I’ve got about five more years before Father Time superkicks me in the face.” My comment drew laughs from both of them.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Sloane asked.

“We grew up together,” Kaia answered quickly before taking a long pull of her drink.

“What she means is that she lived next door to me and always hung out at my house because all the kids her age were losers, so she wanted a ‘cool friend.’”

Kaia rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smile. I turned back to Sloane. “How was your first week of classes?”

She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Pretty good, but my Calc class is going to be tough. The professor is a nightmare.”

“Dr. Carson? Yeah, he’s a real ball-bust...err...I mean, he’s strict. When I had him freshman year, he made a girl cry the first week of class. He also grades on a curve.”

Sloane’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me that! I have to take Calc II with him next semester too.”

I laughed and turned to Kaia. “What about you? Any classes or professors you want to run screaming from yet?”

She shook her head. “Thankfully, no. Although there’s this super creepy guy in my Interpersonal Comm class that keeps hitting on me, even after I’ve rejected his advances.”

I hummed. “You should probably punch the guy. I’ve heard that gets your point across pretty effectively.”

She laughed and I felt my chest tighten. Gods, I loved that sound. I asked the girls if they both wanted another drink, and they nodded yes, so I made my way over to the cooler and retrieved three Smirnoff Ices. I handed them to the girls, and when Kaia took hers, our fingers brushed. Her breath hitched and a smile tugged at my lips. She twisted the bottle cap off, not meeting my eyes. I popped the top of mine and took a long swig, my face turning up in disgust. Holy shit, this stuff is awful. How do chicks drink this garbage? I looked over at Kaia and saw her watching me. She noticed my facial expression and burst out laughing.

“You gonna finish that?”

“Fuck, no. This is all you,” I replied, handing her the bottle. I moved over to the kid manning the keg and asked him if they had any rum.

“I think there’s some in the liquor cabinet, bro. Right over there,” he replied, pointing to a China Hutch on the other side of the fridge. I walked over and opened the cabinet, examining the contents inside. A few bottles remained. A thin layer of dust coated the shelves where liquor bottles once sat. I spotted the bottle of spiced rum toward the back. Thanking the liquor gods, I grabbed it and dusted it off. I grabbed a red Solo cup off the counter and poured two fingers of the golden liquid into the glass, taking a sip. Damn, this shit is smooth. I made my way back over to where Kaia and Sloane were still talking and held the bottle up to them.

“You girls wanna play a drinking game?”

Sloane shook her head. “I’ll pass. But thanks for offering. I’m going to go use the bathroom.”

My eyes darted to Kaia. She shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Let’s do this.”

I smirked and moved over to Keg Guy, asking if he had a deck of cards. He pointed me to a drawer next to the sink. I opened it and found a deck of adult-themed novelty playing cards. The box had pictures of women in various states of undress. I rolled my eyes. Classy. Kaia and I moved over to the kitchen table and I poured more rum into my glass. “Okay, so this game is called the Nazario Chug…”

“Wait...you have a card game named after yourself?” Kaia asked suspiciously.

I chuckled and began shuffling the cards. “Long story. We came up with it my freshman year. So here are the rules. You take the top card. Black card means dare, red means truth. If you fail or want to dodge your task, you drink according to the number on your card.”

“Ooh, a new twist on truth or dare. This should be interesting,” she said, taking a sip of one of the bottles of Smirnoff.

I smiled and cut the deck then placed it between us on the table. “Hey, save your drinks for the game. Okay, since this is your first time playing, you go first.”

She leaned over and grabbed the first card and flipped it towards me. “Five of diamonds. So, red.”

I nodded. “Truth. So, what do you think about Hartfeld so far?”

She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Softball questions right off the bat? I thought this game would be more of a challenge.”

I laughed. “I don’t want to be too hard on you your first time. Answer the question or drink.”

She pressed her lips together and hummed. “It’s okay.”

“Just okay? Come on. You can do better than that.”

“Well, the classes are good. The professors seem cool. And I’ve already made a few friends.”

“But…” I probed.

“I don’t know. It’s only been a week. I feel like I can’t give a more detailed answer just yet.”

I nodded. “Fair enough.” I reached over and pulled the next card from the deck. Three of Clubs and black. I shook my head and Kaia’s eyes lit up when I turned the card to face her. She laughed maniacally and rubbed her hands together. “You’re going to make me embarrass myself in front of the whole party, aren’t you?” I groaned.

She tapped her finger against her bottom lip, the motion drawing my eyes to her mouth. Her lips were so plump, I wanted to lean in and taste them. She caught me staring and snapped her fingers in my face. “Hey, space case. Pay attention. Here’s your dare. See that blonde doing a keg stand over there?” she pointed to the keg where a freshman girl — being held up by two frat bros — sucked the beer from the lever while a small crowd cheered her on. After several moments, she gagged and beer shot from her nostrils, causing her to start coughing.

“You want me to do that?” I asked. She giggled and nodded. I shook my head and moved over to the keg. One of the frat bros noticed me.

“Hey, man. You wanna get in on this?”

I sighed. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.” I braced my hands on either side of the keg’s rim and lifted my body weight. The two frat bros grabbed each of my legs and held me up as I grabbed the tap and opened the lever, allowing the foamy liquid to pour in my mouth. I chugged the beer as Kaia and the crowd around us started chanting, “Chug, chug, chug.” Thirty seconds in, the beer must have gone down the wrong tube, because I started choking and spat up beer. The crowd moaned and the two frat bros helped me down. I moved back over to the table, where Kaia was crouched over laughing, holding her stomach.

“Holy shit. That was awesome!”

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, freshman. Draw your damn card.”

She wiped the tears from her eyes and retrieved the next card. A frown formed on her face and she turned the card to face me. The King of Clubs, black.

“Payback,” I smirked. She groaned and threw her head back. My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for someone to recruit for Kaia’s dare. I spotted a kid with frosted tips and a denim jacket that screamed late ‘90s, leaning against the wall. He looked completely out of his element. Bingo. I pointed to him. “See that guy over there? I dare you to go over to him and pretend you’re his biggest fan.”

“Wh-what?”

“Then, you have to get a selfie with him.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip for a few beats, then nodded and took a deep breath. My eyes stayed glued to her as she rose from her seat and straightened her clothing. “I’ve got this,” she said with a cocky tone. She smirked and marched over to where the guy was standing. I watched in amusement as she gripped his arm with both of her hands and shouted, “Oh wow! Are...are you Niall Horan?” The guy gave her a confused expression as several people turned around to look at them.

She released his arm and pretended to fumble with her phone. She then tapped the screen and handed it to a random girl standing nearby. Jealousy coursed through my veins again as the guy snaked his arm around Kaia’s waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek. The girl held the phone up to snap the photos and I watched them, trying to tamp down the feelings. I pushed back from the table and started walking toward them when a pair of arms caught me from behind.

“There you are! I’m ready to go when you are,” Alana slurred, clutching my midsection as she swayed on her feet.

I watched Kaia as she chatted with the guy. A smile spread wide across her face as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear. As much as I wanted to go over there and claim her, I knew I couldn’t. I sighed and turned around, wrapping an arm around my intoxicated girlfriend’s shoulder. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

She slipped her hand in my back pocket and guided me through the crowd toward the door. I looked back and caught Kaia’s eye as we retreated from the kitchen. She stared at me, her face void of emotion. I gave her a weak smile and led Alana out of the house to our car.

#best beloved #pm au #college au #friends to lovers #perfect match #choices fanfic #damien nazario #kaia park #damien x mc #nazariolahela fanfic

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