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maddiwrites · 3 years

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The Hybrid (Prologue)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: So happy to be back with another series!!! I honestly really missed posting. Unlike Secrets of the Shore, updates will be slower because I don’t have them all written out yet. A couple things I wanted to let you know before you read. I based Y/N’s family off of Gilmore Girls. I thought they were the perfect fit for this story and the show in general and I just love their dynamic. (Including Luke who I renamed Steve for obvious reasons). Chapter 1 will explain more obviously but I wanted to give you guys a little snippet of the characters and relationships. So let me know what y'all think!

Word Count: 3.3k

Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. As you know, the Outer Banks is essentially divided into two groups. If we want to be blunt - it’s the rich and the poor. Figure Eight is home to the rich. Aka the Kooks. With houses bigger than necessary with extra rooms that go untouched, boats the size of homes on the Cut - the other side of the island. Most people who live on Figure Eight are your naturally raised assholes. People who don’t know the value of a dollar and take advantage of people who do most of their dirty work that lets them prance around the island with perfectly manicured fingernails. These hard workers are the Pogues. They live on the south side of the island where most Kooks wouldn’t be found dead. They serve fancy meals at the country club for shitty tips, mow lawns, and work their asses off at any other job for minimum wage. The drastic difference in lifestyles tend to cause many spats and arguments between the two communities. Especially between the teenagers who still don’t know how to control their raging emotions or know when to bite back their tongue. For the Kooks, every fight is a fight for dominance where as the Pogues fight for equality - to put the Kooks in their place. Many of these fights happen at summer parties where the two groups clash to find a good time with their friends filled with alcohol, drugs, and good music.

That’s where they find themselves tonight. The infamous Pogues. John B, JJ, Kie, Pope, and now Sarah Cameron. Although born a natural Kook, she’s earned her spot next to the adventurous teens and her boyfriend. Unlike her brother Rafe who basically is the leader of his notorious group. Topper and Kelce are his best friends who follow him blindly.

The Pogues watch them from their spot surrounding the keg. Kie purses her lips in distaste as the boys cat call for the ladies around them. Somehow most of them finding it flattering. Sarah sips on her beer to hide her embarrassment, often wondering how she and her brother grew up to be so different. Pope and John B stay mostly disinterested, only worried if they try to make a pass at an unwilling girl or fire a degrading comment at their short tempered friend. JJ Maybank is known around the island for his trouble making behavior. Usually if he gets in trouble for fights, no one ever asks who the other people were in the scuffle. Because if JJ Maybank is in the fight, he’s the one who started it, right? Wrong. In fact, JJ usually is never the one to start it. He’s good at keeping his head down and only speaking when spoken to when it comes to the Kooks - the only form of advice worth taking from his father. But his short temper is something the Kooks his age loved to take advantage of because they liked getting a rise out of him. It was like an adrenaline rush.

Luckily, tonight both groups were keeping their distance, either only talking to each other or random Tourons that have found their way to the party. This is usually JJ’s favorite part of a boneyard party. Finding his one fish in a sea of many that he can reel in just for the night and never have to worry about seeing them again.

He has his eyes set on a beautiful blonde making her way to the bonfire when all of a sudden Kie’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“What’s she doing here?”

JJ follows her line of vision, spotting you walking down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, pulling your best friend behind you by his wrist. He first notices your smile and how it brightens up your entire face. Then of course his eyes scan down your slim but athletically toned body. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts and a cropped white T shirt that says UNC across the chest. Who knew someone could look so good without even trying?

Well JJ did. He’s known it for a while.

“Careful. I think you’re drooling,” John B whispers in his best friend’s ear.

JJ pushes him away and mutters, “Shut up. No I’m not.”

But maybe he was.

Y/N Y/L/N is a unique resident of the island. Unlike majority of the island, she doesn’t fall in either Kook or Pogue category. She’s what everyone calls the Hybrid.

People who work hard for what they have but haven’t fallen to be Pogue status. Quite literally living in the middle in a place they call the Crest.

Your story is well versed among the gossipers of the island (which tends to be just about everybody). And mainly that’s because of who your grandparents are. Claude and Doris Y/L/N. Two of the riches people on the island, living in a three story house on the beach. Many people fear them, others envy them. Most feel both. Even Ward Cameron walks on egg shells around them, which is quite often, considering he works for Claude. They’re the kind of people who have never heard of Barefoot wine or Walmart. They keep their noses up and turn a blind eye to the suffering communities around them. Thirty four years ago, Doris gave birth to a daughter that couldn’t be more opposite than them. Lorelai Y/L/N was a wild child. A rule breaker. She snuck out at nights, dated boys her parents would never approve of, dabbled in breaking the law here and there. It didn’t matter how many times her parents disciplined her. She always managed to make her parents’ life a living hell.

No one was surprised when word got passed around that Lorelai had gotten pregnant at eighteen. Although it was with another Kook, she brought shame upon her family name when she refused to get an abortion, even when her mom tried dragging her by her hair.

Lorelai risked everything by running away from her parents’ home in the middle of a windy night. With only one suitcase, the baby daddy out of the picture, and less than a grand in her pocket, she managed to make a life for herself on the South side of the island. She worked two jobs, found an affordable apartment for cheap rent, and managed to save some money before her babies were born.

Yes, babies. As in more than one. Five months after running away from home, she gave birth to twin girls and they instantly became her entire life. With the help of her best friend Steve, who she met one month after being on her own, meeting him at his automotive shop when she very much literally rolled her junky car into the garage, she raised you and your sister on the Cut. The two of you are her greatest accomplishment. Every now and then, she mentally throws up a middle finger to everybody who doubted her, proud of who the two of you have become.

Right before you turned ten, your mom took a business risk and opened her own Cafe. The Bikini Beans cafe, very popular amongst both Kooks and Pogues. The business did so well that she was able to move the three of you out of your shitty apartment into a beautiful one story home with three bedrooms in between the Cut and Figure Eight, aka the Crest, the summer going into your freshman year.

You actually used to be best friends with John B Routledge, JJ Maybank, and Pope Heyward. It was easier being friends with them than the girls, finding more joy in sports and rough housing than makeup and gossip.

Doing the same summer that you moved, your mom pulled you out of Kildare County High and placed you in Outer Banks Private Academy. Aka Kook Academy. Around this time, your grandparents had also become more involved in your life, and you wondered if they had somehow bribed your mom into forcing you to transfer schools. You tried asking her during one of your many fights that started with you begging her to keep you at Kildare County High, but she quickly shut you down and told you to be grateful. That was ironic coming from the woman who ran away from the people giving her an expensive high school career.

You had no choice but to do what your grandparents wanted and attend Kook Academy. Making friends was a lot harder there than it was in Kildare County High. You managed to make one friend in your freshman year. Andre Cortez. Due to an incident a couple years back, you built thick walls and Andre was the only one able to break them down. You were grateful for your friendship, but hanging out with him was nothing like hanging out with the Pogues.

When you transferred schools, you lost touch with the Pogues slowly. Your life became busy with school and playing dress up for your grandparents and the boys were starting to work. Eventually all contact was cut and ever since, you’ve felt a void in your heart.

“Look,” You tell Andre. “I told you I would be your wing woman and I’m not backing down from what could possibly be the most important role in my life.”

You didn’t notice the Pogues or any of the stares around you. It’s true you’re not much of a party girl. I mean, you’ll go out here and there, have a drink or two, but you felt more comfortable at places where you weren’t surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers.

“He’s probably not even here,” Andre says. He’s trying to look nonchalant but you notice the way his eyes dance from face to face of the people around him.

“He told you he was going to be here, right?” You ask him with one brow raised. Andre nods. “Then, we’ll find him.”

Sarah and Kie never made any effort to talk to you at school, but to be fair, neither have you. You’ve heard mixed reviews, some people call them spoiled brats, ungrateful...some even go as far as calling them ‘The Cut Sluts.’ Of course you never take any of those things to heart. You can’t judge a book but it's cover. Plus, they’re friends with your old best friends. They can’t be that bad for John B and JJ and Pope to be hanging out with them, right?

“You think she'll come over here?” Kie asks. No one’s ever said it out loud, but her friends wonder if deep down, Kie was a little jealous of you. Because you were their first real girl friend. You were the first girl they ever let in and opened their heart too. That was a tough pill for Kie to swallow when she originally thought she was that girl. Of course the boys don’t like you any more than Kie and vice versa. But sometimes Kie wishes she could have grown up with the boys the same way you had.

“Probably not. Unless she’s drinking,” Pope says and motions towards the keg they’re near.

“I have an idea,” John B says and fills up a red solo cup. He hands it to JJ. “Why don’t you go offer her a cup.”

JJ snags the cup out of John B’s hand and glares at him. “Fuck off, dude.”

“Do you guys ever see her around at school?” Pope asks the girls.

Sarah shrugs. “Not really. She doesn’t really get a long with my old group of friends.”

Kie rolls her eyes. “No one gets along with your old group of friends.”

Sarah playfully shoves Kie by the shoulder and they laugh.

“I heard she turned down Raymond Easterling a couple weeks ago and he didn’t take it very well,” Pope says, remembering the words he heard from the kids in his class roaming the school hallways.

Raymond goes to Kildcare County High with the Pogues. He’s known to be a trouble maker and a class clown. He works with JJ at the country club. The kid can make JJ laugh sometimes, but he wouldn’t necessarily say he likes him all that much. He can be an arrogant asshole with an ego bigger than it should be.

“She turns down everybody,” Sarah says. “Some people at my school call her ‘The Heart Sucker’ because she can pull people in with the snap of her fingers and break their heart just as quickly.”

Something stirred in the pit of JJ’s stomach.

“Hey! Where you going?” John B calls out to JJ who’s making his way deeper into the sea of people on the beach.

“Taking advantage of a good boneyard party, my friend,” JJ calls back and slugs the rest of his beer. Looking left and right, he searches for the blonde he had eyes on earlier. Because right now, he needed a distraction.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The party starts to die down a little after midnight. Some people leave to find another party, some are passed out in the back of their cars, and others had already found what they were looking for - someone to leave with.

The boneyard party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be. You had found a couple of kids from your school who were nice enough to make small talk with you while Andre left to find a guy named Devon, a Touron he’s been talking to who’s renting for the entire summer.

Now you’re waiting for Andre to come back so the two of you can walk home. You find comfort under a slanted palm tree towards the back of the beach, scrolling through random apps on your phone to pass the time.

“Y/N?” You look up from you phone and smile when you see your former best friend inching closer to you, squinting in the dark to see if it’s really you.

“Maybank? What are you still doing here?” You stand up and pat the sand off your hands on you thighs.

Your heart skips a beat in your chest when you look at him. He’s beautiful. Lucious blonde hair, perfectly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes. You always knew JJ was going to grow up to be gorgeous. He was cute when he was younger. At least you always thought so.

“I was just leaving, but I thought I saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were all right.” He knows it’s not like you to stay this late at a party, especially all by yourself. When he first saw you sitting there, he didn’t know if he should say something. Mostly due to nerves of seeing you again. But the other Pogues had already left and he didn’t trust anyone else at the party to be near you alone late at night. It didn’t matter if you were sober or not.

“Aw. Was JJ Maybank worried about me?” You tease. Talking to him felt easy. As if you never stopped being friends. A few years ago, you and JJ had the best banter. Despite constantly bickering back and forth, John B always swore the two of you would get married one day. The two of you just always clicked like a natural connection. And even now, when only seeing each other every now and then for a few minutes at a time, it felt normal. You smirk when JJ rolls his eyes. “I’m kidding. Yeah, I’m okay. Just waiting for my friend to come back from his little rendezvous,” You say.

JJ nods. “Did you have a good time? I feel like I never you see at these things.”

“Yeah. Parties aren’t really my thing. But Andre was nervous to meet this guy he’s been talking to for a little while so I came for moral support.”

“Looks like he didn’t need much of the support.”

You shrug. “It’s better that way, anyway. I don’t mind waiting for him. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you have a good time tonight? I hear your quite the ladies’ man at these things.”

“Come on, Sparky. You know better than to believe everything you hear.”

Your face lights up at the mention of your old nickname. You use to always be busting out the seams with energy. On days where the boys just wanted to chill and play video games, you would drag them to the park for a game of kick ball. Or when they wanted to sleep in after a long week, you showed up at 8 am to drag them out of bed to catch the morning waves. So one day JJ started calling you Sparky, and it stuck with the rest of your little gang. You always pretended to hate it, but secretly you loved it.

“Oh I don’t believe everything I hear. I do, however, believe what I see. And your arm around that tall blonde in the little black dress looked quite convincing.”

You first saw JJ at the party when he was making his way to the pretty girl by the water. Your teeth involuntarily clenched and there was a twisted feeling in your stomach you couldn’t shake whenever you looked at them.

In that instant, JJ felt grateful for the dark sky. He felt the rush of heat rise up his neck to his cheeks before he could stop it. He knew the motivation to see that girl was because of you. He just wished you never saw it. But he didn’t know why.

“I walked her home. She wasn’t my type,” JJ plays it off.

“I didn’t realize you had a type,” You giggle, but a small part felt relieved to hear this. “So what is it? Your type?”

Hybrids with a Pogue attitude, bright smile, beautiful eyes, and a mouth that could make any sailor turn around, JJ thought.

“I don’t know. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, when you figure it out let me know.”

“Why? So you can transform into my ideal girl?” He teases.

Now you’re the one thankful for the dark sky. “In your dreams, Maybank. But so far, I do have the perfect wing-woman track record, so if you needed help -”

“I don’t think I need any help in that department. Thank you very much.”

You throw your hands up in fake surrender. “Ooo. Touchy subject.”

JJ rolls his eyes at the same time your phone pings with a text message. You pull it out of your shorts pocket and open the text from Andre, telling you to leave without him because he’s gonna stay out late with Devon and won’t know what time he’s going to be done.

“Everything all right?” JJ says, watching you read the message.

You lock your phone and stuff it in your back pocket again. “Like I said. Perfect wing-woman track record.”

“That was Andre?”

“Yeah. He’s most likely not coming home tonight.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“At least one of us is,” You joke.

JJ’s grin slightly falters but you don’t catch it. You have no idea how much he wishes the two of you could be equally as lucky. Together.

“Well, I should probably go,” You say and bend down to grab your flip flops.

“Let me walk you home,” JJ offers.

“Oh no. It’s okay -”

“You’re cute. It’s wasn’t up for debate. I’m not letting you walk back by yourself.”

You scoff lightly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Just humor me.”

You roll your eyes and smirk but choose not to argue. In fact, you’re excited to spend more time with JJ. It’s been so long.

“Fine.”

“And here I thought you might’ve grown out of your stubborn phase by now.”

You shove him playfully by the shoulder. “Shut up!”

And just like that, it felt like old times.

#jj fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx imagine #obx fic #jj maybank one shot

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hamliet · 3 years

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Unless a Grain of Wheat Falls and It Dies...

Or, why I am pretty optimistic about the fates of Jean, Connie, Gabi, and all titanized people this chapter, which is also an excuse for me to talk about SnK’s allusions to Russian literature.

There are strikingly parallel ideas The Brothers Karamazov and Attack on Titan, as well as parallel plot points and imagery to the point where if it isn’t deliberate, it’s uncanny. (NB: before people yell at me about comparing a Japanese and Russian work, Isayama has used Russian names since the start of SnK--Shiganshina is a Russian name.) In particular, there are narrative allusions to a portion of the novel known as “The Grand Inquisitor,” which is a short story within a novel. The central thesis of “The Grand Inquisitor” is as follows:

nothing has ever been more insupportable for a man and a human society than freedom.

This parable is told within the story by Ivan Karamazov, a character whose intellectuality is his gift and his curse. He tells his brother Alyosha that the motivation for creating this parable is precisely the evils done to children (oh look, a major SnK theme) and specifically cites an example which was unfortunately taken from real life in Russia and which Isayama has an uncanny parallel:

I want to see with my own eyes the hind lie down with the lion and the victim rise up and embrace his murderer. I want to be there when every one suddenly understands what it has all been for. All the religions of the world are built on this longing, and I am a believer. But then there are the children, and what am I to do about them? That's a question I can't answer... If all must suffer to pay for the eternal harmony, what have children to do with it, tell me, please? ... if it is really true that they must share responsibility for all their fathers' crimes, such a truth is not of this world and is beyond my comprehension. Some jester will say, perhaps, that the child would have grown up and have sinned, but you see he didn't grow up, he was torn to pieces by the dogs, at eight years old...

... How are you going to atone for them? Is it possible? ... What do I care for a hell for oppressors? What good can hell do, since those children have already been tortured? ... I want to forgive. I want to embrace. I don't want more suffering. And if the sufferings of children go to swell the sum of sufferings which was necessary to pay for truth, then I protest that the truth is not worth such a price. ... too high a price is asked for harmony; it's beyond our means to pay so much to enter on it... It's not God that I don't accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return Him the ticket.”

The actual parable of “The Grand Inquisitor” is Ivan’s answer to Alyosha’s question about Ivan’s lines above. Ivan tells a story about how freedom is actually what dooms humanity: it is the curse. (Alyosha does not believe this.) Jesus comes back to earth and is promptly arrested, because his existence and return threaten the wellbeing of society. To be happy, one cannot be free, but one or two strong people in society should be free and bear the burden for everyone else (you can see the parallels to King Fritz/the Reisses).

Nothing is more seductive for man than his freedom of conscience, but nothing is a greater cause of suffering... all his life he loved humanity, and suddenly his eyes were opened, and he saw that it is no great moral blessedness to attain perfection and freedom, if at the same time one gains the conviction that millions of God's creatures have been created as a mockery, that they will never be capable of using their freedom...

This is SnK’s thesis: to be free, there will be suffering. It is part of human nature, and yet to not have it is to be lost. But SnK, despite its explorations of human darkness and monstrosity, has a higher view of humanity than does Ivan. SnK’s view is more alongside Alyosha’s, who says what is honestly the truth about not just the Reisses, but Eren now:

"Who are these keepers of the mystery who have taken some curse upon themselves for the happiness of mankind? .... It's simple lust of power, of filthy earthly gain, of domination—something like a universal serfdom with them as masters—that's all they stand for.”

Mikasa is akin to the Christ figure in the story, akin to Alyosha: Christ is constantly asked to speak, asked to act, and he does not until the very last moment, when he kisses the Grand Inquisitor on the lips. After the story is over, Alyosha then does likewise to Ivan.

Not to mention when Alyosha worries about Ivan’s mental state, he then answers with this:

“Listen, Alyosha,” Ivan began in a resolute voice, “if I am really able to care for the sticky little leaves I shall only love them, remembering you. It's enough for me that you are somewhere here, and I shan't lose my desire for life yet.”

A simple leaf can save a life. A leaf can save the world. A leaf, grown from a tree that started as a seed falling to the ground, dead, only to grow life from that death. Alyosha himself notes SnK’s central thesis of chapter 137 in the (very long) novel’s final pages:

...some good, sacred memory, preserved from childhood, is perhaps the best education. If a man carries many such memories with him into life, he is safe to the end of his days, and if one has only one good memory left in one's heart, even that may sometime be the means of saving us.

There’s a lot more to this, but this is the epigraph to The Brothers Karamazov, the central thesis of the entire novel:

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." -John 12:24

Suffering can grow great fruit in an individual life, and by giving something up, by even death, something beautiful can come. Through cruelty, you can find life.

This is not just a long-running theme in SnK, but a pattern in its plot. Often those who surrender then receive exactly what they had surrendered (but admittedly, not always, like Erwin).

Mikasa accepted Eren’s loss, and got him back.

Mikasa let Armin go, and got him back.

Falco gave up hope of survival, and got another chance:

Hange was going to die alone, feeling guilty for having failed her comrades, but saw everyone again, and they told her well done:

Historia gave up being free, but now we know she will be.

Levi gave up on his revenge, and then got it. Annie thought she would never see her dad again, but she did. For Mikasa, accepting that she has to kill the boy she loves coincides not just with her acceptance of her love, but with the acceptance and knowledge that he loves her:

It always comes with sacrifice, increasingly hard sacrifice, but usually the seeds that are dropped grow and bloom.

This chapter, everyone surrendered their hearts. They let their dreams fall to the ground, and I honestly think the story will allow it to plant life. Yes, the world as a whole is saved and that is enough to make thematic sense, but it works even better if the very people who were titanized this chapter also bloom again. They chose to trust Mikasa, Levi, Falco, and Pieck to finish the task.

The characters giving up their lives only to get them back make sense, and give Mikasa’s sacrifice of Eren. For Mikasa, Eren was her world, and she gave it up when she had lost everyone else. She had nothing left, and she still did it. I would hope she’d be narratively rewarded beyond just the world being saved, because Mikasa has always been motivated by her personal relationships.

Moving on from Mikasa: Connie’s mom has been kept alive and the concept of turning mindless titans back to humans was already brought up specifically in relation to her:

Connie giving up on his mother a dozenish chapters ago only to get her back now--not through sacrificing a child, but through saving the entire world--would fit the themes and patterns of SnK.

Thirdly, Gabi should not die. She’s Eren with positive development, and cannot meet the same end. Even people who are skeptical of every titan being saved seem to agree that she’ll be fine. It’s possible she’s the only one saved, but imo, not likely.

See, the only shifter characters who are going to have the option of self-sacrifice are Falco and maaaaaybe Armin. The others look like they’re about to die right here and now, never mind choosing someone to save: the mindless titans are ripping at their napes. Armin also looks to be in bad shape.

Yet Armin cannot narratively commit suicide; two chapters ago he was still screaming at himself for being useless and thinking he would be better off dead. He’s already tried the heroic sacrifice, too, so why would it work this time around? It does not work for his arc. Falco dying for Gabi was the plan without any freedom from the titan curse; it’s more powerful if ending the curse changes things, rather than forcing him to make the same choice that Reiner has always been trying to make: a heroic suicide. It could happen; it’s just not as narratively strong.

As for whether the worldbuilding rules, we know that mindless titans are not truly dead nor entirely mindless; they just don’t have freedom. Ymir’s case of getting herself back after decades shows that they aren’t quite dead or absorbed. They still have consciousness that can be awoken; Ymir described it as being in a long “nightmare.” Dina still went looking for Grisha. Connie’s mom remembered and recognized Connie, telling him “welcome home.” There is plenty of evidence that there are parts of these people that are still in there even if they are forced to become monsters (oh hey, it’s an Eren parallel; he was conscious of it and had choices while mindless titans do not, but the parallel remains).

#snk 138 #snk meta #aot 138 #aot meta #mikasa ackerman #eremika #eren jaeger #armin arlert #the brothers karamazov #gabi braun #connie springer #jean kirchstein #ymir #falco grice #galco #reiner braun #annie leonhart #levi ackerman #historia reiss

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

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Attack Of The Winter Wolf: Prologue

Summary- 7.1k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. The Alpha gets upsetting news from Natasha. Not ready to share yet, when you want to leave the compound for a quick errand, Steve asks you not to. Thinking it was all settled, he is caught by surprise that you chose to do the opposite instead.

Warnings- Alpha and Little One getting into a heated argument. Also some furniture might have some damage due to the Alphas strength.

A/N- Hello everyone! I’m excited for the next installment following Welcome To The Pack and hope sincerely that you all enjoy the continued life of Alpha and Little One. You all have been so supportive and encouraging. I really love all your thoughts and suggestions when it comes to this series. I welcome and encourage them, please don’t hesitate to drop a message. Wolf Picture Request at bottom by @bostongirl13. Thank you for sending in the inspiration babes.Divider made by @firefly-graphics, be sure to check out her selection. Much Love and Happy Howling. 💙🐺

Masterlist

Steve was in the bedroom closet, finding the clothes he needed for spending a day out in the snow, the temperature dropping low for even the shifters' naturally heated bodies. Just as he was finishing buttoning the last shirt over the layers, his cell phone chirped with a message from Natasha. Quick to go check it, knowing that she was slowly making her way back to the area after tracking there missing packmates all over the country the past few months. The Alpha was looking forward to her either returning home for a while or having some good news to pass on. Unfortunately her message made his good mood quick to turn to one of worry, as it was short and vague.

S, call me.

Quick he pulled up her number and not even a single ring issued when Natasha answered with her usual “Rogers.”

“What's going on Nat?”

“Well I’m closer than you think. Another pack was destroyed overnight. Barely any survivors, Alpha missing.” She continued on, the details worrying him further.

“So what… Do you have any idea of who it is? Is it…” Steve didn't even want to voice it. Didn't want to think it could be his best friend and his missing members of his pack. Natasha was quiet on the other end before she started calmly, clearly having thought of how to answer this.

“I can’t say for sure Steve, but the trail I’m following keeps intersecting these attacks. Everyone I’ve seen is brutal destruction and we both know he has the power himself to do that. Let alone with someone as strong as Wanda, Pietro and Clint.”

Steve felt his throat tighten a bit at the news, the Alpha hyper aware now, wanting to check their borders for any signs of intrusion. It was an inner war, he wanted his family back and safe, but it sounded like they were a danger to all of them now if what she was saying was true.

“Okay, I hear you. If you come closer let me know. Stay safe.”

“Warn the pack Steve.” Natasha left with that last warning before hanging up and Steve sighed, pocketing his phone and rubbing at his face for a moment, worried about what this all meant.

You were currently searching the cupboard for sugar. Out of everything to run out of. You thought to yourself as your hands fell to your hips and you scowled a bit at your situation. Going to the fridge, you added yet this other thing to your long list of supplies needed. Absently your hand went into the box of Cap’n Crunch you had been snacking on. For whatever reason it became your go to comfort food after a Heat, which you just finished. That too was empty.

Another thing on the list, another reason to go to town.

Jotting it down, Steve was messing with the buttons on his flannel, and you side eyed him a moment. The Little Wolf, still feeling the lasting effects of the heat immediately perked up sensing the Alpha nearby.

It's because he’s wearing extra clothes, down girl.

The Little Wolf purred instead, her head resting on her paws while admiring her Alpha across the room while he was making his way through the living area to the kitchen.

You were still standing at the list, chewing your lip while Steve brushed past you, taking a nip at your neck on the way to the coffee pot. “What are you thinking so hard about Little One?”

“We are just about out of everything. I know it snowed heavily last night, but I could take the truck down easily and take care of it while you are up at the lumber yard?”

Steve paused a moment, the phone call he just had with Natasha replaying in his mind. Pouring the majority of the pot in a thermos, he flicked off the coffee maker and placed the last of the coffee in a mug for you, pushing it in your hand. “How about we go tonight when I get back. I don't want you on the roads alone.”

You gave a shrug as if it wasn't a big deal but Steve caught your chin, looking in your eyes.

I'm not commanding her.

<Then you should tell her why> The Alpha countered and Steve internally growled at his wolf.

She doesn't need to worry about it. Steve was sure to keep the bond cut off between the two of them so the Alpha didn't pass over. The Wolf bristled and Steve could feel the hairs on his neck stand up, but he didn't have the time. He was doing what he felt was right in the moment, as he wanted to be able to really discuss it with you and how to approach it with the rest of the Pack. Perhaps a bit of him was just not wanting to break the blissful peace bubble. “Wait till I get back, please? I won't be too late.” Placing a kiss on your lips, sure to nip on your bottom lip in an apology to the small huff you pressed into the kiss and let you go to grab his jacket, his phone ringing. Before you got another word, he dug it out of his jean pockets and scowled at it. “Shit… Okay, I really gotta go Little One, I will see you tonight. We can go out to dinner so don't have to cook.” And then he was gone, leaving you there with your list and a hot cup of coffee in your hand.

Your hand fell to your hip and you sighed. “What even just happened?” The Little Wolf stretched and started grooming herself now that she wasn’t distracted by her Alpha nearby.

You grumbled at how slick your Alpha was.

The morning wore on, you have done everything you could think of around the house when finally you felt cooped up. Working your lip, you make a decision to go anyways, sure that the only reason Steve wanted you to stay was because of the possible snow on the roads. But by now they should all be plowed and cleared.

Your Little Wolf stirred awake while you went to shrug into a jacket and headed out the door towards the garage to get one of the trucks. <I thought Steve wanted us to stay home?>

He did, but it's not all that bad out now. Your eyes wandered up to the bright sun. Looks could be deceiving, as warm as the sun looked, it gave no warmth on that winter day. Ducking into the garage, you grab a pair of keys off the pegboard and reading the label, you figure out the pickup that they went to. The Little Wolf started kneading her paws a bit while pacing, flicking her ears back and forth in a bit of unease.

It will be okay, calm down, would ya? You retorted while starting up the truck and was soon pulling out of the garage and turning onto the road heading down the mountain.

Halfway down the road though the truck started to shudder and whine, stalling out. Your foot shifted from the gas to the brake to start to ease it to a slow while it kept jerking. “What the fuck.” You growled out, the wheel jerking as if it wanted to do the opposite. But you weren't having it, and with a final pull, the truck shuddered to the side of the road, giving an exhausted sigh before it cut off dead.

“I can’t believe this.” You sputtered while trying the key, which resulted in a pathetic whine from the engine and then completely dead again. Slamming your hands against the wheel in frustration for a moment, you felt your pockets for your phone, but of course it just occurred to you that it was charging, on your nightstand. The Little Wolf paced back and forth since you were agitated, huffing out without saying anything. You snapped before she even could.

I know… Just our luck the truck breaks down this time. You don't have to say anything.

<I wasn't going to> She retorted and retreated into your subconscious, leaving it quiet in your mind. Grabbing your bag, you got out of the truck after leaving the hazard lights on and debated just making the shift and letting the Little Wolf take you back home.

A truck pulled up alongside of you and one of the pack members rolled down his window, an older wolf named John. “Y/N, you okay?”

“Yea, the truck broke down.” You motioned over your shoulder towards the truck now useless on the side of the road. John craned a look over his shoulder.

“How about I bring you back up? I can have it hauled back up once we get back.”

Breaking out in a relieved grin, you made your way around, and soon enough John was dropping you back off in front of home. Making your way inside, you kicked off your boots and went to go change back into comfy clothes.

Steve was rubbing his hands together while they got another truck loaded and the chains in place. His hand rubbed appreciative at the base of the tree, the rich maple with its rings. It was always one of his favorite woods to work with. But this order was being made into premium wood for sale across the country. Giving Sam the thumbs up they could pull out, he watched the truck leave the plot when his cell phone rang. Digging it out, he had hoped it was his Girl, just to talk to you and hear your voice. But the number was one of the pack members, which he promptly answered.

“Hey John, whats up?” Steve asked as he started towards the next load.

“Oh just wanting to let you know I'm taking the Mater. Your missus was driving down to the store and it broke down on her.” That's when Steve’s footstep faltered.

“Where is she now? Why didn't she call me?” Steve’s voice sharpened, demanding answers from John.

“She’s back home, I just dropped her off. I'm sure she will be calling you soon Alpha.”

He immediately turned from his original goal, softening his voice while talking to John. “I'm sure, thank you for giving me a heads up. I will catch up later to take a look at the truck.” Passing by one of his crew, he passed along that he had to head home and that they should get the last truck loaded for the day.

You had just changed into your sweatpants and hoodie when you went to grab your phone and dialed Steve’s number. But it just went to voicemail, which you left him one asking him to give you a call back.

It wasn’t needed, because moments later the front door slammed shut and Steve’s voice bellowed out your name. “Y/N, where are you?”

You hopped up from the bed to go greet him but the Little Wolf whined in warning, lowering as she picked up his tone. You didn't hesitate though, holding up your phone. “Hey I was just leaving you a message.”

“Uh, a bit late isn't it?” Steve's hands fell to his hips, his tone leveled as he looked down at the counter a moment and then lifted back up to you, his eyes blue fire at the moment. You wanted to drop back a moment, which you did. But then you hitched your chin up.

“Your phone was off Steve.”

“Why were you even out Little One?” He snapped and you winced at the use of his name for you. “I said to wait for me.”

“Steve, you are overreacting. It was only a few miles down the road and John gave me a ride home.” You folded your arms over your chest and straightened a bit to keep from making yourself smaller and look like you were subduing to him.

That didn't deter your mate though. “You went out after I said not to.” Steve growled from deep in his chest, his fingers gripping the kitchen island till his knuckles went white and the wood groaned in protest while his fingers made permanent dents along the edge. Subtle but there. “How do you want me to react to that Y/N? You could have been hurt, gone off the road. You didn’t even have your fucking phone on you.”

“Stop talking to me like I'm a child Steve.” You snapped back at him, feeling your temper rising and the Little Wolf pacing around, whining sharply in distress. Your arms hugged around yourself in a protective manner, but you wouldn't shy away from this, not like you might have in the past. You weren't just some pack member, you were his mate. Your chin lifted a bit in defiance, holding onto that fact that if anyone got to defy the Alpha, it was you. “Might have forgotten, but I'm a grown damn woman who can make her own decisions.”

With that he turned, advancing on you. A shiver ran through your body at how menacing he looked, his features set in harshness, broad shoulder and a stagger to his stride as he crossed the rooms to reach you. “You sure as fuck didn’t act like it when you took the keys hanging on the peg. The truck that only half works, lucky it even had fucking snow tires on it or else you would be down the side of the mountain. Not to mention who might have come across you.” The Alpha was raging in Steve’s mind at your recklessness, that this new threat he had not entirely come clean to you about could have been out there, ready to just take you away from him.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know that specific truck was being repaired on? Seems like half the shit here is constantly getting fixed.” You bit back in anger, not actually meaning it, but you didn't want to fess up to you being wrong, and he was right. Not yet anyways. “And what's that supposed to mean? Who would come for me Steve? Hmm?” You rounded on him, stepping up to poke your finger in his chest just to piss him off that much more.

The taps against his chest didn't phase him any, he had much worse with his ex and some part of him was a bit shocked at how you were arguing back with him, knowing that months ago you wouldn't have dared to out of fear. Now here you were, fighting back without hesitation. “You didn't answer me about the phone Y/N, You couldn't even call me to tell me that the truck broke down the side of the road. What the fucks the point of having it if you are not even going to use it? What would you have done if John wasn't coming back up? You didn’t even tell me you were leaving, just fucking left without so much as a-”

Your own temper was rising the more he spoke, effectively feeling like he was treating you like a child, not his partner. Your eyes rolled at him while snapping your teeth in a snarl. “Oh I don't know Steve, guess I could have shifted and strolled home. Or am I even allowed to do that, Alpha?” You knew it was a low blow, implying that Steve really restricted you from anything. He hadn't even made it a command for you to follow, he simply said this morning to stay home. No impulse for you to follow behind it. But at this point you weren't thinking that. “I forgot the fucking phone this one time Steve.”

That little eyeroll of yours had Steve’s temples throbbing at that point. Sure that his blood pressure was rising just as fast as this conversation between them was. Your dismissal at the dangers you had put yourself in made him grit his teeth trying to keep from shouting at you. “You’re an Omega Y/N, the Alpha’s Omega who was just out of heat. Any shifter outside of the pack could have smelled that and went out of control.” Now he was shouting, a deep rage burning in his chest. “You never think of your safety Y/N!”

You glared at him, shaking in your anger at your mates brashness in belittling you. “You don’t think I don't know that Steve?” You yanked the collar of your shirt to show off a faded scar, satisfied as you saw some of the rage shrink from his face seeing the mark on you, turning to guilt at his accusation. Your voice was raised just as much as his was at this point. “Trust me, I won't forget how people can be.” You let go of your collar and tug it back in place. “Not ever. Not even those we should trust.”

Steve growled out and whipped away from you, fisting his hand in his hair for a moment in frustration. “You know that's not what I mean Little One.”

“But you still said it, and you can't take back words Alpha. No matter how much you want to.” You wiped at the angered tears on your face and breathed out. “I gotta get out of here, I can't breathe.”

This turned Steve around just as quickly, his brows arched. “Where the hell are you going?” He asked as you were tugging on your coat and stuffing your feet in your boots.

“Out, away. Natasha’s. Just as long as you are not there. I need space right now from you.” All you knew was you wanted to be alone and was opening the door when Steve planted a palm against the wood, shoving it shut again. “Let me the fuck out Steve, Now.” You pushed against his chest, and this time he didn't resist, stepping back as you opened the door and slammed it behind you, trudging off the porch. Steve was quick to follow you out. Standing on the porch while watching you walk away. Any nearby packmates openly stared at the scene in shock, for they had never heard Steve and You shout at one another.

You flinched when you heard Steve snarl in rage and the snapping of railing on the porch, but you didn't look back while holding your head up high, making your way past others before you snapped out at them. “Don't you have something you should be doing?” Which set off the flurry of activity again until you made your way across the compound to Natasha’s and let yourself in, shutting the Pack and Steve away for now.

Steve could feel himself losing patience with himself. He went back inside and slammed his door hard enough to rattle the cabin windows, locking himself away from the world for the moment.

It wasn't long till it spread to the others that the Alpha and his Little One were fighting. Sara was the first to approach Natasha cabin, softly knocking on the door. “Y/N? Can I come in?” she waited, listening intently, but heard nothing that invited her to come in. Defeated, she retreated back to her home, shaking her head at Sam.

Sam tried next with Steve, less subtle then his mate had been. His fist pounded against the door, bellowing Steve’s name. When there isn't an answer, he went around to the back to see Steve brooding on the back deck overlooking the lake. Making his way towards the Alpha, who was leaning forward, his elbows planted on his knees, and his hands fisted together that he had his mouth pressed against as if lost in thought, Sam was careful in his approach. Everything vibrating from him said caution to Sam. Leaning against a railing, Sam cleared his throat. “Sara sent me over to come check on ya.”

Steve just grunted in response, his eyes not breaking from the lake.

“Gotta say man, that was quite the argument you two had.” Sam shifted a bit, hoping Steve would snap out of it and respond, but the Alpha didn't make any notion he was paying attention. “Y/N wouldn't answer the door, we figured she was still cooling off. Wanna talk about what is going on between you two?”

Steve finally sighed and shifted to lean back, his legs stretching out before him. “She was reckless, not taking her safety into account. Anything could have happened. There are rogue wolves possibly in the area. She didn't have her phone.” Steve just released his frustrations up in the air and Sam cocked his brow.

“Okay, and what? you lost your temper? Did she even know there was anything for her to worry about such as rogue packs?” Sam nailed it on the head and Steve clenched his jaw, glaring at his friend. “Don’t give me that look, what's the first thing you did? What you have done in the past I bet. Instead of talking, you let your worry and anger take over.” He shrugged a bit.

“Fuck off Sam, I don’t need this shit.” Steve growled at him and Sam put up his hands to placate him.

“Just give it some thought Steve. Of course you had every right to be worried as hell, I would have been furious and scared if it had been Sara. Hell that had been Sara a time or two, just like I have done dumb shit with her. Just remember who Y/N is before you lay out your anger on her man. Maybe tell her why you were so pissed off in the first place.” Sam shifted from where he was leaning against the railing and started back down the steps, letting the Alpha sit with his words.

After the silence got to deafening, Steve pulled to a stand. Shedding his clothes on the porch, he was quick to shift to the Alpha. Shaking his fur out and stretching his head back to get his muscles stretched, he bounded off the porch and disappeared from sight into the forest.

Sara waited another day. But the rumors of you locking yourself in the cabin and the Alpha disappearing overnight into the forest had made the rumors become crazier with every passing word. Within a night the word was that you were leaving the pack and Steve was going to cut the bond.

So Sara made her way up the steps again, this time she knocked loudly and waited. She heard a shuffle, but no answer. “That��s it Y/N, I'm coming in.” And with a twist of the door handle, Sara walked in and looked around the dim room before she went over to the main window and pushed the curtains to open and let the light in. There was a groan from the couch, in which Sara twisted to see you wrapped in a blanket. As well as a bottle of vodka on the coffee table. “Oh girl, what are you doing?”

You groaned at her words and hid your head when Sara approached, removing the bottle and taking a whiff of it before wrinkling her nose. “Fuck I forgot that Nat liked this shit.” She muttered while going to pour the last fourth of the bottle down the sink.

“What are you doing here Sara?” You groaned while flipping the blanket off your head, and she rinsed the bottle before putting it in the recycling.

“Think it's obvious, coming to make sure you are okay. Be a girlfriend, let you cry on my shoulder about how annoying your man is, all that good stuff. Then tell you to get your shit together and go home.” She stated as she worked on getting the coffee pot started, searching Natasha’s cupboards till she could find what she was looking for.

“Oh is that how it goes.” You blinked your eyes trying to adjust to the light. “But I assure you I'm fine.”

“Right, why you and Steve had a shouting match the whole pack is talking about, and for the first time ever you slept away from Steve’s. Sounds fine to me.” Sara listed off while measuring the coffee and starting it. She twisted to lean against the counter, looking at you as you shuffled into the kitchen, rumbled clothes and tried patting down your hair while trying to look perfectly fine even though you had red rimmed eyes.

“Okay… we had an argument.” You sniffled a bit, your Little Wolf brushing against you to make you feel better.

Sara gave a sympathetic smile and circled an arm around you while you rested your head against her shoulder. “Actually a big one and he hasn't tried to come over and anything. Last night I was so damn mad at him I drank most that vodka wanting to yell at him more, and now I have a raging headache and don't know what to do.”

Giving a rub on your back, Sara let you go to pour you a cup of coffee and pressed it into your hands while leading you back to sit down. “Talk to him. Steve might be hard headed but once he cools down, he typically can be reasoned with.”

You stared down in your coffee cup, going to sip from it and take out some of the pounding from behind your eyes. “Ugh, never let me rage drink again.”

Sara snorted a bit. “Girl, you go to rage drink, you best be coming to get me for that.” She teased and nudged you lightly with her shoulder, which you chuckled softly.

“So everyone heard us huh?” You groaned out and she nodded.

“Heard it and added to it. Right now everyone thinks Steve kicked you out and that you're leaving for good once you got your shit packed. What happened anyways?”

You shrugged. “Honestly, I didn't think that it was going to be a big deal. Steve wanted to come to town with me because he was nervous about the snow, he claimed. But it was just a quick trip to grab some groceries. So I didn't think he would really care. Grabbed the keys, of course to the truck that he and Sam had been working on, it broke down the side of the road. Forgot my phone, since it was just a quick trip. Luckily Jonathan was headed back up and gave me a ride. He called Steve to let him know.”

Sara listened, once in a while patting your knee with sympathy or shaking her head. The she wolf knew the Alpha was over protective of those he considered his, but You hadn't even made it off the mountain. Only going a few miles at that point when the truck had broken down. “I can see why you would be mad at Steve. He didn’t need to go off like that and let his temper get the best of him.”

You wrinkled your nose while picking at your fingers. It felt really unnatural to you to be staying at Natasha’s, really just wanting to go back home now. But you had no idea if Steve was still mad at you or not. That was the worst feeling, thinking that your mate was angry at you. “I know he was just looking out for me but fuck it made me feel stupid, like a burden to him that he has to take care of me all the time. I still don’t even know why he is really all that mad. Sure forgetting the cell phone was stupid on my part, but plenty of the pack travel on that road. It was minutes before I was found and helped.” You rubbed at your face. “So the pack is really worried we will split up?”

What if some of the rumors are true? Your thoughts darkened and the Little Wolf rumbled a bit to make herself known.

<Don’t. You know better than that.>

Well he was really mad, what if-

<Y/N, shut it down now.> She snapped out while pushing up to make a stand against your negative thoughts swirling. <Steve didn’t even make you leave. You walked over here to cool off.>

Sara spoke up, drawing your attention back to her. “You know how rumors go. They catch any trouble in paradise kind of thing and it blows up.” She scooted over closer and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You both have cooled off. Maybe it's time to go back home and talk to him? I'm sure he misses you as much as you miss him.”

The Alpha dodged off the usual trails he followed not wanting to come across any others that might be stretching their legs and started making his own through the heavy February snow. He didn't wander far though, because he felt your sorrow on your shared bond. It made his ears flatten against his skull and his staggering gait circled him back towards where he knew you were several times during the night, sure to check on Natasha’s several time to be sure you were safe. Even now he could catch the scent of you from the cabin that didn't belong there. It belonged at his cabin, with him. Where he could wake up and bury his nose in your neck, and feel your soft body welcome him. Where you sang in his kitchen unaware he was listening. Or curl up on the deck with your book pretending to read, but you were having private conversations with the birds and squirrels coming to the feeders, lost in your own little world. Again he circled Natasha’s cabin, his muzzle lifted to try to find you again, his ears twisting back and forth, searching you out. Your voice was muffled with another’s, but it was there and the Alpha sighed.

He hated the temper that flared so strongly and suddenly. Yes he was upset and his fear at how reckless you had been had flared into this ugly thing that pushed you away. Now it was time for him to make it right, bring you home. Pacing around the cabin, he paused at the steps and settled down to sit. The Alpha let himself sink into the bond, reaching out to meet his Little One gently. He felt when You were aware he was close, the sadness easing a bit but still cautious.

You paused what you were saying when warmth blossomed through you and a bit of a foreign ache. Sara tilted her head watching you as your jaw snapped shut and you rubbed at your arms. “Y/N? What is it?”

“Steve is close.” You said under your breath and Sara gave a small knowing smile, being familiar with that sensation with Sam.

A deep howl started just outside of Natasha’s front door and you felt a rush rise up in your throat, the Little Wolf aching to answer him back. You went to the front door and eased it open to see the large Silver Wolf singing at the door, when he heard the creek of the door open, he gave a slight thump of his tail against the packed snow and tilted his head looking at you. Folding your arms over your chest, you stepped out further with a soft.

“Alpha, what are you doing here?”

He pushed to a stand and gave you a play bow, his tail curling over his back while swaying in a wag, enticing you to join him. You went down the few steps and he mouthed your hand, tugging it gently to join him. Running your hand over his head, your hand rubbing deeply at his softer ears and giggling when you saw him get a blissed look at your touch, you shook your head. “Okay okay.” Quickly you tugged off your clothes, tossing them behind you. Which Steve leaped up to catch, still very much in a playful manner till the front of Natasha’s place was littered with your clothes and the Little Wolf was prancing around the Alpha, who was nipping at you twisting around to keep up with her.

Sara stepped out onto the porch, leaning against the railing watching the two of you play with one another, chuckling when Steve rolled you to your back and stood over you stiff legged, which you played as the good little submissive wolf, nuzzling under his chin and whimpering. It lasted all of five seconds before you heaved against him to knock him off balance and twisted to bolt off, leaving the Alpha chasing after you out of sight. The woman shook her head with a snort at the two of you and proceeded down the steps to gather your abandoned clothes to take back to your proper cabin. Making sure Natasha’s place was closed back up.

On her way towards Steve’s, Sam caught up to her with an arm around her shoulder. “I see it worked.” He grinned and she leaned slightly into her mate, letting his scent and warmth surround her.

“Of course it did, they are both just too damn stubborn and needed a slight push.” Sara said as she started up the stairs and let them in to drop Y/N clothes on the coffee table, turning towards her mate and wrapping her arms around him. “Were we ever like that in the beginning?” Sara wriggled her brows teasing and Sam let his hands rest on her hips, pulling her in closer, chaining nips and kisses over her face till she was nuzzling into him.

“Babygirl, of course we are still like that. Remember last week?”

Sara smacked against his chest with a laugh and pushed against Sam to get them back out the door. “You are such a pain in my ass Wilson.”

“Yet you keep me around still.” He grinned while they left, both of them feeling accomplished that Steve and You were now interacting once again.

“For now, till I find me another stud.” Sara shrugged and Sam tickled her sides to get her laughing.

You paced along the tops of frozen snowdrifts, Steve following along nearby but not risking to follow you into the deeper snow as he was much heavier and would sink where you wouldn't. He kept up easily with you though, familiar with where you were leading him and when you rolled off the embankment to land next to him, he took over. Nudging you with his muzzle and steering you towards the thinning trees, you both broke out onto one of the lake's beaches.

Here the wind picked up, lifting loose snow to twirl around across the ice that the lake had turned into. You both bounded onto the lake, chasing after the swirls of snow with snapping jaws and bounding leaps into the air. Powered haunches folded underneath you before you leaped into the air, landing heavily on your forepaws and rolling into a run which the Alpha streaked past you and dug in his claws to keep from slipping too much. He was quick to turn back though and slide alongside you, this time you picked the way you two traveled together, slowing down to an easy going lope. It wasn't long till you both ended at another beach further away from the compound. This one scattered with old weathered logs that you balanced beamed along, Steve jumping over them easily till you both circled back into the forest that was muffled with fresh snowfall.

Easing you both back home, when you hit the deck and scrambled up the steps, the Alpha was right behind you and shifting to ease open the door leading into the bedroom, which you were quick to run into the bathroom and shifted back yourself to turn on the hot water.

Steve silently joined you in there, the both of you stepping under the hot water. Steve twisted your back to his chest, sliding chilly hands along your skin while you tilted your head back into the water, sighing as the heat felt good on your chilly body. He dropped a kiss to your shoulder while grabbing the shampoo bottle and squirting a generous amount on his palm.

“Step out of the water Little One.” He rumbled and you obliged, his hands working the soap into suds and massaging into your scalp. You sunk into that relaxed state where you let Steve simply take care of you, moving the way he eased you back and forth in the water.

Steve rumbled gently with content now that his Little One was back with him, knowing he was going to have to tell you why he snapped in anger. But right now having your trust was everything and he did his best to make sure you had just what you needed. Even needing to do the same for him when you turned and insisted on washing him.

The soap foamed against his chest as you followed the familiar path you've traced countless times now while talking in bed, pressing in close and back up to wrap your arms around his neck and hug yourself in close, nuzzling in against his neck. It wasn't sexual in nature, just the desire to be close, your fingers skating over his upper back and sighing against him as his warmth and scent wafted over you, making you feel calm for the first time in a couple days. “Little One, we should probably get out.” He left off the ‘and talk’ but you knew that it had to happen. With a nod, you back up for him to rinse off.

Afterwards he twisted the knobs off so they could dry off. Gathering a fluffy towel, he whisked it over your body till the majority of your skin was dry. He might have left a few tempting drops on your shoulder that he lapped off with a stroke of his tongue, just further marking you as his.

Once you both left the bathroom, Steve eased into his leather chair across the room, and tugged you into his lap, his hands soothingly stroking your thigh. You let your arm ease around his neck, watching as he traced your legs with the gentlest touch, you never would have known those hands could be capable of anything else. “I'm sorry I left Alpha. I didn't mean to make you worry.” You broke the silence and cold blue eyes lifted to warm looking at you, the furrows between his eyes deepening which you smoothed a thumb over to smooth back out, make him relax. He caught your wrist and brought your fingers down to his lips, just pressing them against your fingers till he sighed against your fingertips.

He needed to tell you because you deserved to know. “Little One, I wouldn't have normally reacted that way. Just that morning Natasha called me to tell me some news that had me worried and I should have told you. I was trying to spare you from worrying.”

Now it was your turn to furrow your brow, a bit of a frown tugging on your mouth as you pulled your hand back from him to rest your hand against his chest. “What? What did she tell you?”

You could see his jaw clench a bit, hating that this perfect bubble that your lives had been since Pierce would be taken away. Tilting your head forward, you nudge your nose against his, and his forehead leaned against yours a few seconds till he drew back to speak. “Some rogue wolves are taking out Alphas. There are some survivors but the packs get destroyed in the process. Natasha keeps running across the attacks while tracking Bucky and the others.”

You gasped out, your eyes widening in surprise. “You don’t think it could be…?” You drifted off, not even wanting to say the words and Steve shook his head.

“I really don't know Little One. Fuck I hope not. But Natasha said that they were efficient in their attacks. Bucky and Clint both have the training for it. Wanda and Pietro are powerful in ways beyond being shifters. I need to talk to the rest of the Pack. Especially since they are heading this way, warn others in the area.”

You nodded, your touch against his chest feeling the vibrations of the rumbles of unease rising from his chest. “Means you will have to contact Stark.”

Steve sighed, resting his hand against your hip and sliding you in closer till you laid your head on his shoulder. “He would do the same for me.” Since the incident last fall, Steve and Tony had kept away from each other, well within their respective boundaries, but Steve wouldn't let that keep him from warning him of the imposing danger.

“What do you think the whole Council will do?” You questioned next.

Steve couldn't help the growl that escaped him then, the Alpha mimicking it himself with great distaste at the supposed council that was supposed to help the Packs.

“Whatever the fuck they want I suppose. As long as they don’t try to interfere with us.” He rumbled out and you shifted in to bite gently on your mark at the crook of his neck and shoulder, giving a gentle lap of tongue to calm your mate once more. The Little Wolf crossed the bond to be closer to the Alpha, nuzzling the growling intimidating beast till he settled back down. “When I found out you were gone… Fuck Y/N, all I could think of was what if something happened to you.” He sighed out his confession now to his anger and you let it sink in, thinking of how it had affected him. You had heard what had happened when Pierce had injected you and you went under. Steve lost his tight control and almost attacked anyone coming close to you, if it wasn't for Bucky, who knows what would have happened then.

You cupped his face and turned him towards you, kissing him slowly, drawing it out while you poured your love for him into it. “Thank you for finally telling me, I understand now why you were so upset.”

Steve sighed against your mouth, inhaling your scent like a healing balm to his fears at what might be coming to their borders. “I will do better I promise Little One.”

You simply hugged around him tighter and committed how he felt to memory, all that power kept in check against you. “We both will Steve.”

#attack of the winter wolf #alpha steve x little one #amber writes #sweater writes #the pack #steve rogers au #shifter steve rogers

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dcbutinamrev · 3 years

Note

*bonk* i’m also sending you a few prompts for a lams shot :)

26, 28, & 34 perhaps?

Of course bestie!!!

Modern au with of course, their historical appearances. (I'll add 28 and 34 tomorrow- )

26: "I've been in love with you for an embarrassingly long time."

~~~

Nineteen year old high school student and football star and your typical Prince Charming type, whoops and hollers along with his friends who have been with him since Freshman: Richard Kidder Meade, Tench Tilghman, Robert Hanson Harrison, John Fitzgerald along with Benjamin Tallmadge bursts through the Washington Cafe in downtown Manhattan on a clear Friday afternoon.

Eighteen year old Alexander Hamilton sits on a stool behind the counter, waiting for customers to approach to take their orders. He huffs out a breath, glancing around the non-busy cafe, watching customers doing work on their laptops, taking occasional sips of their drinks or munching on their pastries, listening to distant conversation. His foster father, who also happens to be his teacher as well, George Washington would work in the back where the Manager Office is but he's currently finishing up some documentation and paper work at the school, his older foster brother Gilbert Marquis de Lafayette works in the kitchen and takes the orders to the right customers, while Hamilton sits by himself, alone, at the cashier with a violet apron around his black short-sleeved shirt and black jeans. Hamilton's striking dark red hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail, a few curls falling in front of his ears and bouncing slightly on his forehead.

"Anything?" Lafayette asks as he pokes his head through the cracked door to the kitchen.

Hamilton shakes his head, resting his cheek in his palm as he turns to gaze out the windows. "Notta."

"Hm," is all Lafayette says before he slams the door shut and continues working.

Hamilton sighs again, shaking his head before finally, out of mere boredom, pulls out his phone from his back pocket, scrolling lazily through his socials.

"Uh...excuse me?" a distinctly southern voice says, snapping Hamilton out of his distant, far off look.

Hamilton yelps with surprise, whipping his head back and forth before finally landing on, let's be honest here, his crush since Freshman--John Laurens--stands before him. Hamilton tenses when he sees the beautiful, angelic man before him. He breathes in slowly, holding his breath when his violet-indigo blue eyes lands on bright summer blue ones.

Is it hot in here or is that just me? Hamilton thinks, furrowing his brows slightly.

"Yes...?" Hamilton asks after a few moments of silence, clicking his phone off before sliding it back into his pocket and turning to face the blonde man before him. Hamilton stares at the man's hair. It's bright, rich in color and looks like silk. Smooth and flowy, almost the color of honey. Hamilton suddenly wishes to touch the boy's hair.

Laurens glances at his friends behind him, who nod encouragingly with unusually bright smiles. Laurens clears his throat, turning back towards Hamilton who now has his arms crossed over his chest and his head tipped back, an eyebrow raised challengingly and expectantly at the same time.

Laurens presses his lips together and scratches the back of his neck. "I um..." He clears his throat. "I um...can I talk with you...for a moment?"

Hamilton hesitates, glancing over his shoulder where he sees Lafayette in the small rectangular window, hissing out a curse in French. Hamilton grimaces when he hears something clatter onto the floor before turning back to Laurens.

"I don't talk to strangers," Hamilton says.

Laurens chuckles. "Cheeky. You know I'm not a stranger, Alexander. I've known you since Freshman. And we're both in the same classes together." A pause. "English--with Mr. Washington--Biology, Calculus, Theatre, Band--"

"I know, John," Hamilton giggles.

"Then why--?"

"You know how my brother is," Hamilton interrupts, leaning forward with his arms crossed over his chest. "Especially with people like you. Even if he knows who you are."

Laurens ticks his eyes at the kitchen door behind Hamilton's shoulders before turning back towards Hamilton, nodding reassuringly. "It'll be quick. I promise."

Hamilton sets his mouth and sets his jaw, giving Laurens a look.

Laurens tosses both hands up. "Just...five minutes. That's all..."

Hamilton glances over his shoulder a second--or third--time before huffing out a breath and nodding, sliding off the stool and following Laurens towards the male's bathroom nonetheless.

Hamilton furrows his brows as he follows Laurens, his brows furrowing together and tensing when he sees Laurens swings open the bathroom door. He's noticed things like this in movies. In his peripheral, he can see Laurens's friends nodding eagerly and flashing him bright smiles with thumbs up.

Laurens slams the door shut after shoving Hamilton into the bathroom. Hamilton stands just a few feet behind Laurens, watching him carefully with his arms crossed still over his chest, an eyebrow raised as he tenses at Laurens's every move.

"Relax, it's not Hollywood," Laurens says, mirroring Hamilton's position and leaning against the white sink. Hamilton simply gives him an untrusting look. Laurens sighs, defeated. "I...I wanted to talk to you. Privately. For a reason."

"And that is...what...to murder me?" Hamilton whispers, taking another step back.

Laurens shakes his head. "No! I told you, Ginger, this isn't Hollywood!"

"Then why else would you have--"

"If you would just shut up, Ginger, and listen to me then perhaps you'll find out yourself," Laurens snaps, raising an eyebrow.

Hamilton rightfully clicks his mouth shut. Laurens nods curtly once.

"Good," Laurens says. "Anyways, I brought you here so I won't make a fool of myself in front of the boys."

Hamilton just simply gapes at him confusedly and suspiciously,

"I um..." Laurens clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. He pulls something from the back of his pocket, causing Hamilton to stiffen. Hamilton relaxes instantly when he sees the boy hand him a simple sheet of paper. "...Happy birthday, Alex..."

Hamilton's birthday was last week, Janurary 11. Hamilton eyes the paper before snatching it from Laurens's hands. He unfolds the crinkling paper and his eyes widen instantly. Laurens smiles as Hamilton holds a small box now and lifts the lid, revealing a necklace.

"It was my mother's..." Laurens says, breaking the silence between them.

Hamilton whips his head sharply at Laurens's direction, his eyes wide as his fingers fiddle with the silver chain, the small silver heart resting in his palm.

"She uh...she told me...that if..." Laurens clears his throat, taking a step closer to Hamilton. "She told me that...that if I...if I had found true love...then...this is theirs."

Hamilton's breath hitches in his throat, making Laurens's small smile grow wider as he nods with confirmation.

"Alexander...Alex...we've been friends for months, years even and...well...since you've walked onto those steps at the school... I uh...I've just been...I don't know...I just--"

Laurens's words are suddenly cut off when he feels soft lips against his. He stiffens, unsure what to do, his shoulders up to his ears and his hands hover in the air by Hamilton's elbows. He stares down at Hamilton wide-eyed, shocked by the sudden action, but melts into his embrace after a few minutes.

Laurens shifts around so both of his hands now rest on Hamilton's hips, shifting around again so he's even more taller than he was before, dipping his head down and at an angle to capture those beautiful soft, pink lips of this unique redheaded boy from the depths of the Caribbean.

Laurens grins when he hears Hamilton sigh lightly as they slowly pull apart, breathing sharply, their foreheads touch, chest nearly touching. Hamilton scoffs out a laugh, tipping his head back up to meet Laurens once more, brushing a loose strand of honey blonde hair behind his ear, resting his hand under Laurens's jaw.

"John--"

"Jack," Laurens says.

"What?" Hamilton gasps, eyebrows high and deep violet eyes dilated.

"Jack," Laurens says again. "My family calls me Jack."

Hamilton feels the corner of his lips quirk up. "Am I family?"

Laurens smiles wide, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind Hamilton's ear. "You...you are something more...than family."

A pause.

"Jack...I...I've been in love with you for an embarrassingly long time..." Hamilton confesses, a shy smile on his face.

Laurens grins, leaning down to steal a kiss.

"So have I."

*Bonus under the cut!*

A few weeks later...

"Uh...John?" Hamilton says as he sits with Laurens and the boys at a table, discussing random things like class work or homework or football or crushes or gamers. Hamilton now sits upon Laurens's lap, Laurens's arms around his waist.

"Hm?" Laurens questions, raising an eyebrow as he rests his chin on the back of Hamilton's shoulder.

"Um...how am I...how are we going to tell Gil about us...?"

"Uh...we won't," Laurens says. "Not unless you're ready, my dear boy."

Hamilton hums, giggling softly before pressing a kiss to Laurens's lips.

Hamilton doesn't know how long it's been since they've began kissing but Hamilton knows they're now almost to the point of making out against the booth, the others groaning, complaining and shielding their eyes, when he hears a sharp shriek.

Hamilton tenses and pulls off, fixing the collar of his shirt before whipping his head over his shoulder to find his brother standing behind him. Hamilton and Laurens both pale.

"JOHN FUCKING LAURENS! Get the fuck off my baby brother right now!" Lafayette barks.

"I'm dead aren't I...?" Laurens whispers into Hamilton's ear.

Hamilton nods, never taking his eyes off of Lafayette's. "You are so dead, babe."

"BABE?!" Lafayette shrieks.

"Well, I'll uh...I'll see you after school, yeah?" Laurens whispers.

Hamilton nods. "Yeah..."

"Keep the change," Laurens says, slapping a twenty into Lafayette's palm before patting his shoulder before bolting out of the door.

Lafayette turns his sharp, intimidating gaze before turning to face Hamilton, who shrinks and grimaces.

"Uh...I can explain?"

Lafayette simply stares at Hamilton, his protective instincts getting the best of him as he mumbles something incoherently under his breath in French before stomping out of the room.

Hamilton let's out a sharp breath.

He has never felt that terrified around his brother before.

Ever.

After a few minutes of silence, Meade breaks it.

"Well...that escalated quickly."

#asks #ask liz #liz writes #prompts #writing promts #historical lams #lams #lams fic #ficlet #fluff #alexander hamilton #john laurens #washington's aides #marquis de lafayette #protective lafayette is yes #bedtime now #i am so exhausted #lee!

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magicbaaaaaby · 3 years

Text

I "met" the smart, funny and kind @lkhosla some time last summer, since we thirst over a lot of the same wrestlers. At one point I said "I think the only reason Cena and Orton didn't kiss on TV like Shawn Michaels and Triple H did was because Randy couldn't keep his tongue out of John's mouth." We bounced ideas back and forth until a whole fanfic emerged. In belated honor of lkhosla's birthday, here is what we came up with. Enjoy!

PS Give him a follow, he's delightful and posts hot content

CenOrton

It was their most heated match yet and Randy Orton was giving John Cena a serious run for his money. As they stood face to face, John decided to try a new tactic to distract Randy: he planted a kiss right on his lips! The crowded arena gasped in unison. Never one to back down, Randy slipped his tongue between John's lips. Accepting that challenge, John wrapped his lips around the Viper's fat tongue, their nipples rubbing together as they squeeze each other tight

Forgetting about the match, Randy grabbed a hold of John’s face while John felt up Randy’s butt. The crowd went wild when Randy's baby oil started to get on John's chest as they're feeling up each other's bodies. It dripped down to their crotches and they grinded their bulges together, grunting and panting with each thrust..

Randy undid John’s baggy jeans while he whispered dirty thoughts in John's ear. "I've seen you stare at this viper for years. I know you want a taste..." he told him and John could only blush because it was true.

The sensation of Randy's lips and warm breath on John's ear alone was enough to get him very fired up. He reached down and stroked Orton's viper, which was already oozing some "pre-venom"

Randy groaned in pleasure as he kissed down Johns neck while he’s grasping that famous fat ass

Randy dragged his tongue from John's neck to his beefy chest and started working on those nipples. John's eyes rolled back in his head, he let out a whimper as Randy began with tender kisses, then licks, then sucks before he bared his teeth for some nibbles and bites to John's hard nipples.

As Randy bit down on his nipples, John brought his left down on Randy’s ass and squeezed it before pulling him even closer while his right hand traced down Randy’s muscular back. He couldn't take it anymore and pinned Randy on his back, kissing, licking and nibbling Randy's nipples. Randy shuddered as John moved his mouth down Randy's sweaty torso until he arrived at his crotch. John pulled down Randy's trunks with his teeth, took a whiff of Randys bush, and wrapped his mouth around Randy's throbbing, leaking viper. Randy moaned and surrendered to the pleasure. He stroked his fingers through John's hair while the other hand massaged his shoulder in encouragement.

Randy lifted John's head to attach his mouth to John's, his large fat tongue thoroughly exploring John's mouth, tasting himself. He positioned John on all fours, kissing down his back until his face reached John's muscular bubble butt. John arched his back as he felt Randy's tongue lightly tickle his tight hole. It delved deep into his bubble butt. John's eyes rolled back as Randy placed both of his hands on either of John's cheeks, spreading them apart.

John turned to look at Randy, with need and desire in his eyes---he was ready. Inch by inch, Randy slid his diamond-hard stiffness into John's eager hole. John drew a sharp breath through his teeth as he felt Randy pump in a solid rhythm. Randy moaned, his hand gliding cross John's chiseled torso, the other stroking John's hard dick.

Randy opened his eyes for a few moments to admire John's complete rapture: his dropped jaw, his breathless panting, his eyebrows raised in ecstasy. He loved what he was seeing. Randy grabbed John's hips and pulled him closer as he thrust powerfully into him and held that position. John gasped; Randy put his lips to John's ear: "Tell me how much you love it." "I--" before John could finish, Randy grabbed John's head and slid his tongue deeply into John's mouth, muffling the words Randy had asked of him

As Randy's tongue was shoved deeper into John's ready mouth, Randy grabbed John's chin and forced his head up so that they could lock eyes. Randy's were filled with a cold fury and animalistic intensity, while John's were open with surprise at the sudden submissiveness, they both knew their places in life.

Randy pulled his tongue out of John's mouth just long enough to murmur "Say it. Say you love it" before giving John's ass another powerful thrust. "I love it," John managed to say between moans. Randy pulled out, laid John on his back with his legs up and entered him, continuing his prior pace. Randy looked John dead in the eye: "Say it again." "I--mmmph" John sighed as he felt Randy's long, thick tongue explore his mouth once again; he loved Randy's dominant kissing. John gently sucked Randy's tongue as he felt Randy pull it out. "I love it," John moaned returning Randy's intense gaze, "I love you."

Randy smirked and flicked his tongue out at John's confession. "Good" he says, "now you're mine John, better get used to the feeling of my Viper in your ass". As he finished the sentence, he hoisted John's legs upwards and placed them over his shoulders. John's lower back lifted off the mat as Randy continued to pump deep into him. "Hmmmm, maybe I love you too" Randy muttered as he thrusted faster. John eyes rolled into the back of his head as he sunk further and further into submission.

Randy groaned as he felt John tighten in response to his increased thrusting speed. John reached up to caress Randy's sweaty face, Randy turned his head to suck John's index finger. Their eye contact was intense, lustful. John gasped, he felt Randy's dick swelling inside of him. He pleaded "I want your cum. Please, let me taste you Randy!" In one swift motion, Randy pulled out of John's ass, shoved his dick into John's mouth and continued pumping until he unleashed a hot creamy load. The sudden burst and the salty, sharp taste of the Viper's thick venom aroused John so much, he came all over his own torso.

As John swallowed Randy's load, Randy dismounted from John's mouth and lowered his face to John sweaty, cum-slick torso. John trembled as Randy extended his long, thick tongue to lick up all John's cum from his meaty tits and chiseled abs. Randy brought his face to John's, their gaze lingering for a moment before tracing John's lips with his tongue and sliding it into John's mouth. The taste of their combined cum was enough to get them both aroused in short order. "Wanna go again?" John asked hopefully. "Yeah, but let's go back to our hotel room this time. The crowd has seen enough," Randy said. And with that John and Randy climbed out of the ring hand in hand, eager to get back to their hotel room for Round 2 as the crowd cheered, clamored and "popped" like never before

#john cena #randy orton #hot wrestlers #wwe #fanfic #lkhosla

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rowyn-writes · 4 years

Text

Dying From a Broken Heart

Part Two of Confidence

Warnings: Violence, angst, language, arguing, blood, fluff

Pairings: Jack x Winchester!Reader

Characters: Jack Kline, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Eros, Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: While you and Jack are at the motel, you make a shocking discovery. You're not dealing with a pack of werewolves like you thought, but Eros, God of Love and Lust. You finally figure out the connection between Eros and the victims. . . Only to find out that you're next.

You and Jack were still doing research when Sam and Dean came back. "Okay, so get this." You said, turning around in your chair. "Every year, six people go missing and are found dead with their hearts torn out."

"A ritual?" Sam inquired.

"Exactly what I was thinking, dear brother." You grinned. "Now, big city like this, six missing people is something you'd hardly notice."

"Yeah, but why would a werewolf preform a ritual?" Dean asked.

"That's what Jack and I kept asking ourselves." You said, looking over at your boyfriend. "Why in the world would a Purebred werewolf need to preform some kind of ritual?" You stood up, rummaging around in your backpack for a book. You gave a triumphant smile as you held up your Greek Mythology book.

"Eros. God of Love and Lust." You opened the book to the page that was dedicated to the god.

"But their hearts were torn out." Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "What would Eros want with hearts?"

"It's a sacrifice for him." You informed the men. "Think about it. None of the vics had bites or even scratches. At first, I thought it was a Purebred werewolf because the attacks didn't line up with the lunar cycle. But the more I thought about it, the more that this makes sense. People used to worship Eros and make sacrifices for him, but now hardly anyone believes in him anymore. So Eros goes out and gets his own sacrifices."

Sam and Dean seemed impressed while Jack seemed proud. "Okay." Dean nodded. "That means that since he failed with the last victim, he's going kill again."

You tried your hardest to think of some kind of connection with all the deceased. You knew there had to be something in common since they were dealing with a god. They seemed to be picky with their sacrifices.

"What are you thinking about, Y/n?" Jack asked, resting his hand on top of yours, something that didn't go unnoticed by your brothers. Dean was about to say something when Sam stomped on his foot, earning a grunt from Dean.

"I'm trying to find the connection between everyone. Because I know there has to be one." You picked at a tear in your jeans while you tried to connect the dots.

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. You stood up abruptly, startling the men in the room. "I know what Eros looks in for a sacrifice." You stated, grabbing your notepad to look at the stuff you had written down. "Everyone we interviewed said the victims just had a big announcement. The 55 year old man was celebrating his 30th anniversary with his wife, the 28 year old woman was newly engaged, the 45 year old man just started dating again after his wife died, and so on until the fifteen year old girl. She had just gotten her first girlfriend when she was attacked."

"What are you saying, Y/n?" Jack questioned.

"I'm saying that Eros is targeting people with an immense amount of pure love. That's what he's looking for!"

"Wow." Sam said, looking at his little sister in admiration. "That's genius, Y/n." He patted her on the shoulder, only to furrow his eyebrows. "What's that on your collarbone?"

You gave Sam a confused look as you headed to the bathroom. There, on your collarbone was a dark red circle. You sucked in a sharp breath.

"I know who the next target is." You told the men.

"Who?" Jack seemed worried by the look on your face.

"It's me."

. .

. . .

"How did this even happen?!" Sam exclaimed.

"I don't know!" You defended yourself, your voice raised slightly. "The whole time we were out I was with you guys. Jack and I never left the motel room while you two were gone."

"That is true." Jack nodded. "Y/n and I stayed in here and she agreed to be my girlfri-"

You put your hand over his mouth. "Now's not the time, babe." You could feel Dean glaring a hole through you and Jack.

"Okay, let's think about this for a second." You said, trying to calm everyone down. "Maybe this is a good thing."

"A good thing?!" Dean roared. "Y/n, how in the hell is this a good thing?!"

"Dean." Sam hissed, cuffing his brother. "Calm down and let Y/n talk." You threw Sam a grateful look.

"This way we can lure Eros out, and kill him. Apparently all it takes is a wooden stake dipped in lambs blood."

"I don't like this plan." Jack muttered.

"See! Thank you." Dean said, clearly pleased with the Nephilim.

"Jack-"

"No, Y/n. You're not going to put yourself in danger just to kill this god. I won't allow it."

"Oh for the love of-" You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Eros is coming for me either way. It's better to be prepared and have a plan rather than to just sit here and let him tear my heart out!"

"Don't talk like that!" Jack insisted angrily. You understood that he was worried about you, but you were a grown woman and could make your own decisions.

"It's inevitable, Jack." You said softly. "Eros will come for me. We know from the victims that he kills them 24 hours after being marked. I have maybe 18 hours at best."

Dean was furious. "This is your fault!" He growled at Jack. "You're the reason my baby sister is being targeted!"

Jack looked taken aback. "I didn't want this for Y/n." He said sincerely. "If I could trade places with her, I would."

"That's the problem!"

"Dean-" You started, only to get interrupted by your oldest brother.

"You think you're in love with her, but you're not! It's unnatural. Nephilim, they can't fall in love. All those stupid movies that Y/n and Sam let you watch made you think you're in love with her. You can't love Y/n."

You felt your throat close up, hurt by Dean's words. "Is it that hard to think someone could love me?" You whispered.

Dean's hard glare softened as his eyes landed on you. "Of course not, sweetheart. But Jack. . . He's not right for you."

"Oh, and you know what's best for me?" You growled. Your hurt turned to annoyance and anger.

"Yes, I do. I'm your brother."

Sam and Jack gave each other looks. It was bad when Sam and Dean argued, but when you and Dean argued, it was catastrophic.

"And John was my dad, and he never knew what was best for me! That doesn't mean anything!"

"Oh, so family doesn't mean anything to you?"

"Dean, come on man, you know that's not what she meant." Sam tried to reason.

"Stay out of it, Sam!" Dean yelled.

You could tell Sam was growing annoyed with Dean. His frown deepened, his eyes hardened, and his hand began to twitch.

"No! I won't stay out of it. I am tired of you mistreating Jack and Y/n!"

"Oh, I do not mistreat them!" Dean argued. "Jack, do I mistreat you?" Jack seemed uncomfortable being put on the spot. You knew he looked up to Dean, but Dean had also said some rather hurtful things about Jack.

While Sam, Dean, and Jack continued their argument, you were able to slip away unnoticed.

You were crying now, the thought of dying scared the crap out of you. And your brothers and Jack arguing didn't help the situation.

You looked around the parking lot, looking for something to hotwire. You came across a black Harley Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport. And the dumbass was stupid enough to leave the keys in the ignition.

You started the engine, listening to the bike purr. You threw back the kickstand and began driving. You didn't know where you were going, all you knew was that you had to get out of there.

You weren't stupid, of course, you had your gun and a silver dagger just in case.

You planted both of your feet on the ground at a stop light. You were still crying, and you couldn't figure out why. You were just so angry.

You ended up stopping at a small dive bar outside of Little Rock. There were a total of ten people there, and most were men.

You flag down the bartender and order a beer. Around twenty minutes later, a man slide in the seat beside you. He said nothing as he ordered a drink. The man seemed so familiar to you, but you couldn't put your finger on it. He had curly, dark brown hair, and beautiful blue-grey eyes. He was handsome in all aspects of the word. But he was nothing compared to Jack.

"I've never seen you here before." He said to you.

"Oh, I uh - I'm just passing through." You gave him a tight smile.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You grabbed it, looking down to see that Dean's as calling you. You sent him to voicemail, something that was bound to piss him off.

"Guy troubles?" The man inquired.

"More like brother troubles." You laughed. "I'm Y/n, by the way."

"Elliott." He smiled, showing off a gleaming row of white teeth. "So, what's going on with your brother?"

"Brother's, actually. They treat me like a baby, just because they're older than me."

"That's what brothers are supposed to do." Elliott shrugged. "They're supposed to look out for you, protect you." Your phone rang again, this time, it was Sam. You sent him to voicemail as well and put your phone on silent.

"Yeah, I guess." You agreed. "But -" You cut yourself off, not wanting to dump all your feeling onto this random stranger.

"But what?" He asked, curious to what your response was.

"There's this guy, this amazing, wonderful, sweet and funny guy. He cares about me, and I care about him, but my oldest brother, he thinks we shouldn't be with each other." You confessed, taking a sip of your beer.

"Is he respectful towards you?" You nodded. "He cares about you and treats you right?" You nodded once more. "Then what's the problem?"

"I don't know." You mumbled. "My brother just doesn't trust him, even though he has no reason not to."

"Call it a brother's intuition." Elliott grinned. You blinked as your vision began to blur. "Hey, you okay?" You let out a slurred response. "Let's get you some air." Elliott helped you out of your chair and outside. You felt the cold air nip at your cheeks, making you feel a thousand times better.

Your head began to spin, the world shifting around you. "I don't feel so well." You groaned. Your body went limp, and the last thing you felt was a pair of strong arms wrapping around you to keep you from falling.

. .

. . .

"Guys!" Jack yelled over Sam and Dean, trying to catch their attention. "GUYS!" Jack's eyes flared orange, finally getting Sam and Dean to stop arguing. "Where's Y/n?"

Sam and Dean looked around the room frantically. Jack looked into the bathroom and found nothing. "Damnit!" Dean growled. "How could she have left without us noticing?!"

"Well, you and Sam were rather angry, I think it was very easy for her to slip away." Dean glared at Jack.

"So help me God, if a single hair on her head is out of place, all hell will break loose, and it'll be on you." Sam sighed, shaking his head.

Dean dialed your phone number, looking apprehensive. "Y/n, I swear if you sent me to voicemail on purpose, I am going to kill you! Answer me, damnit!"

"Let me try." Sam mumbled. "Y/n, please call and let us know you're okay. We're worried."

"I can find her." Jack said hopefully. He closed his eyes, searching for any sign of you. He saw you sitting next to a guy in a bar, he saw the man put something in your drink, and he saw you pass out outside of the bar.

Jack grew angry. He knew what happened to you was wrong, he could feel you were in distress. "She's in trouble."

. .

. . .

"Wakey wakey, sunshine!" Elliott cheered as he threw water on your face. You gasped, bolting awake. You found that you were bound in a chair, the thick rope cutting into your skin. You looked around to see that you were in some kind of a abandoned building.

You were relieved to see that you still had on all your clothes. "I was worried for a second. I thought I might have given you too high of a dose for your body."

"You roofied me." You groaned.

"I did! But you have to understand, Y/n, I would have never gotten you out of there otherwise. You're one of the strongest sacrifices I've ever had."

"Eros." You said in realization.

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" Eros almost seemed happy by the situation. "You are going to be one of the best sacrifices I've had. A hunter with a strong heart full of compassion and pure love. The perfect candidate."

"Please," You whimpered. "Let me go."

Eros sucked in a breath, faking remorse. "You see, I wish I could. . . But I can't. I need you. Ever since the last sacrifice escaped, I've been looking for a new one. And then your brother's, boy wonder and you roll into town. I knew as soon as I saw you that you were perfect. Almost too perfect."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek. "Please. I don't want to die. I'm only 21, there's so much things I haven't done yet. Let me live." You pleaded.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Eros grinned, pulling up a chair in front of you, sitting with his chest on the back of the chair. "I was actually looking for a wife." He gave you a wicked grin that made you squirm in your seat. "I need an heir, or heiress, I don't discriminate. I just want someone to pass my powers off to, to teach. So, I can let you live if you agree to be my wife."

"Rot in hell." You spat, disgusted by the thought of marrying Eros. He grew annoyed, as he punched you, your head snapping back.

"That's too bad." Eros shook his head. "But, at least I'll get to enjoy killing you."

You watched in horror as Eros' fingernails grew into sharp, claw-like hands, almost like a werewolves. You screamed in pain as he drew his finger over your face. "Shh, shh, love. It's gonna be okay." You gave out a small cry, struggling against the ropes.

"The more you struggle, the more it's going to hurt." Eros said in a singsong voice.

You began whispering apologies in your head, to Sam, Dean, Jack, Cas, Rowena, everyone. There were so many unfinished words, so many unsaid 'I love you's,'

"I'm sorry." You whispered. You screamed out once more as Eros dug his nails into your chest.

"Y/N!" You heard Dean yell. Sam, Dean and Jack appeared from behind a crate, your brothers carrying guns, and we'll, Jack himself was a weapon.

"Ah, ah, ah." Eros grinned wickedly. "I am holding her life in the palm of my hand; literally. So put down those shiny guns, and step away from them." Sam and Dean looked at each other. Eros scowled as he dug his nails deeper into your skin. You cried out in pain, feeling his nails getting closer to your heart.

"Alright! Alright!" Sam said hastily, setting down his gun and stepping away, encouraging Dean to do the same.

You were quite the sight for the men. You had blood coating your clothes, a bruised eye from the blows that Eros landed earlier, your hair was a mess and you face was streaked with tears.

"Get away from her!" Jack bellowed.

"Oh, look, it's your lover boy." Jack's words only made Eros angrier, as he retracted his hand, and swiped his claws over your face, creating four long gashes.

"I said get away from her!" Jack's eyes began to glow orange, and he trembled with anger. Eros looked frightened as he was sent flying back into the wall.

Sam and Dean surged forward, both carrying a wooden stake dipped in lambs blood, while Jack went to help you.

"It's okay," He whispered. "I've got you." You gave out a small whimper as he cut the ropes. "Can you stand?" You tried to stand up with the help of Jack, but your knees buckled beneath you. Jack scooped you up in his arms. You buried your head in his chest, turning away from you brothers, who were currently killing Eros.

"Take me home." You mumbled before darkness enveloped you.

. .

. . .

When you awoke, you were in your bed at the bunker, surrounded by Cas, Sam, Dean, Jack and Rowena.

"Y/n." Dean breathed a breath of relief as he hugged you. You winced in pain, your body still sore from you attack. "I am so sorry. I never should have said those things to you. I'm so glad you're okay."

"It's okay, Dean." You assured him. Even though you said you were fine, there was still pain swimming in his eyes.

"We couldn't heal your wounds with magic," Rowena informed you. "Since Eros was the one to injure you, it will have to heal naturally. I did make you some herbs that will stop the pain, however."

"Thanks, Rowena." You smiled. The room began emptying out, everyone wanted to let you rest. Jack, however, didn't leave your side.

"I'm sorry, Y/n." He whispered.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked, squeezing his hand.

"I let you get hurt. I should have gotten there sooner." You saw there were tears in his eyes. You frowned as you scooted over.

"Come lie beside me." Jack hesitantly climbed into the bed, pushing aside the covers. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your head on his chest. "You got me out of there when you did. I'm okay, and that's all that matters."

"But-"

You cut Jack off with a kiss. "I don't want to talk about it anymore." You mumbled, cupping his cheek. "I just want you to hold me."

"I can do that." Jack nodded, pulling you closer to his body. You decided to put on a movie as you and Jack cuddled. Halfway through the movie, you ended up falling asleep. Jack didn't sleep that often, but he felt so at peace that he fell asleep as well.

When everyone came to check on you again, their hearts melted at the sight of you and Jack. "Oh, just look at them." Rowena whispered to the men. "They're so cute."

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "They are."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tag List: @mila-dans @blairrrose

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sgt-paul · 4 years

Text

Paul McCartney Is Still Trying to Figure Out Love – The New York Times Magazine

By David Marchese, Nov. 29, 2020

Paul McCartney, like the rest of us, this year found himself with an unexpected amount of time stuck indoors. Unlike the rest of us — or most of us, anyway — he used that time to record a new album. The pandemic-induced circumstances of its creation may mark “McCartney III” as an outlier in the former Beatle’s catalog, but as its title suggests, it does have precedents: Like “McCartney” (1970) and “McCartney II” (1980), the album, out Dec. 18, was primarily recorded by McCartney alone, with him playing nearly all the instruments and handling all the production. “At no point,” McCartney said, “did I think: I’m making an album. I’d better be serious. This was more like: You’re locked down. You can do whatever the hell you want.” Which was a gas, as always. “What I’m amazed with,” McCartney explained, “is that I’m not fed up with music. Because, strictly speaking, I should have gotten bored years ago.”

It seems to me that working on music by yourself, as you did on the new album, might allow for some insights about what you do and how you do it. So are there aspects of “McCartney III” that represent creative growth to you?

The idea of growing and adding more arrows to your bow is nice, but I’m not sure if I’m interested in it. The thing is, when I look back to “Yesterday,” which was written when I was 21 or something, there’s me talking like a 90-year-old: “Suddenly I’m not half the man I used to be.” Things like that and “Eleanor Rigby” have a kind of wisdom. You would naturally think, OK, as I get older I’m going to get deeper, but I’m not sure that’s true. I think it’s a fact of life that personalities don’t change much. Throughout your life, there you are.

Is there anything different about the nature of your musical gift today at 78 than in 1980 or 1970 or when you first started writing songs?

It’s the story that you’re telling. That changes. When I first said to John, “I’ve written a few songs,” they were simple. My first song was called “I Lost My Little Girl” — four chords. Then we went into the next phase of songwriting, which was talking to our fans. Those were songs like “Thank You Girl,” “Love Me Do,” “Please Please Me.” Then came a rich vein as we got more mature, with things like “Let It Be,” “The Long and Winding Road.” But basically I think it’s all the same, and you get lucky sometimes. Like, “Let It Be” came from a dream where my mother had said that phrase. “Yesterday” came from a dream of a melody. I’m a great believer in dreams. I’m a great rememberer of dreams.

What’s the last interesting dream you had?

Last night’s was pretty good.

What was it?

It was of a sexual nature, so I’m not sure it’s good for the Kids section. Pretty cool, though. Very interesting, dreams of a sexual nature when you’re married. Because your married head is in the dream saying: “Don’t do this. Don’t go here.” And just to let you know, I didn’t. It was still a good dream.

You know, I was conscious of not mentioning the Beatles early in this interview, and you’ve already mentioned them a few times. So let me ask you: The band broke up 50 years ago. You were in it for roughly 10 years. When you’re not doing interviews or playing concerts, how central to your own story of your life are those 10 years from half a century ago?

Very. It was a great group. That’s commonly acknowledged.

Generally speaking.

[Laughs.] It’s like your high school memories — those are my Beatles memories. This is the danger: At a dinner party, I am liable to tell stories about my life, and people already know them. I can see everyone stifling a yawn. But the Beatles are inescapable. My daughter Mary will send me a photo or a text a few times a week: “There you were on an advert” or “I heard you on the radio.” The thing that amazes me now, because of my venerable age, is that I will be with, like, one of New York’s finest dermatologists, and he will be a rabid Beatles fan. All of that amazes me. We were trying to get known, we were trying to do good work and we did it. So to me, it’s all happy memories.

“McCartney III” will come out very close to the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. Has your processing of what happened to him changed over the years?

It’s difficult for me to think about. I rerun the scenario in my head. Very emotional. So much so that I can’t really think about it. It kind of implodes. What can you think about that besides anger, sorrow? Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can’t get over the senseless act. I can’t think about it. I’m sure it’s some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it. Having said that, of course I do think about it, and it’s horrible. You do things to help yourself out of it. I did an interview with Sean, his son. That was nice — to talk about how cool John was and fill in little gaps in his knowledge. So it’s little things that I am able to do, but I know that none of them can get over the hill and make it OK. But you know, after he was killed, he was taken to Frank Campbell’s funeral parlor in New York. I’m often passing that. I never pass it without saying: “All right, John. Hi, John.”

And how about your perspective on the work you did together? Has that changed?

I always thought it was good. I still think it’s good. Sometimes I had to reassure him that it was good. I remember one time he said to me: “What are they going to think of me when I’m dead? Am I going to be remembered?” I felt like the older brother, even though he was older than me. I said: “John, listen to me. You are going to be so remembered. You are so [expletive] great that there’s no way that this disappears.” I guess that was a moment of insecurity on his part. He straightened me up on other occasions. It was a great collaboration. I can’t think of any better collaboration, and there have been millions. I feel very lucky. We happened upon each other in Liverpool through a friend of mine, Ivan Vaughan. Ivan said, “I think you’d like this mate of mine.” Everyone’s lives have magic, but that guy putting me and John together and then George getting on a bus — an awful lot of coincidences had to happen to make the Beatles.

People always ask you about John. I’ve noticed they rarely ask about George, who of course also died relatively young.

John is probably the one in the group you would remember, but the circumstances of his death were particularly harrowing. When you die horrifically, you’re remembered more. But I like your point, which is: What about George? I often think of George because he was my little buddy. I was thinking the other day of my hitchhiking bursts. This was before the Beatles. I suddenly was keen on hitchhiking, so I sold this idea to George and then John.

I know this memory. You and George hitchhiked to Paignton.

Yeah, Exeter and Paignton. We did that, and then I also hitchhiked with John. He and I got as far as Paris. What I was thinking about was — it’s interesting how I was the instigator. Neither of them came to me and said, “Should we go hitchhiking?” It was me, like, “I’ve got this great idea.”

Why is that interesting?

My theory is that attitude followed us into our recording career. Everyone was hanging out in the sticks, and I used to ring them up and say, “Guys, it’s time for an album.” Then we’d all come in, and they’d all be grumbling. “He’s making us work.” We used to laugh about it. So the same way I instigated the hitchhiking holidays, I would put forward ideas like, “It’s time to make an album.” I don’t remember Ringo, George or John ever ringing me up and saying that.

How strange is it to share an idle recollection from your youth, as you just did with that hitchhiking story, and then have the person to whom you’re sharing it — in this case, me — know the memory? It seems as though it would be weird.

It’s quite annoying, David. It’s like people at dinner yawning when I’m telling stories. This keeps happening to me.

I even know the details. You and George slept on the beach.

That’s right.

Some Salvation Army girls kept you warm.

Yes.

Then at some point you sat on a car battery and zapped your ass?

That was George who did that! I have a very clear recollection. He showed me the scar. Let’s set the record straight: It was George’s ass, and it was a burn the exact shape of a zip from his jeans.

Do you remember the last thing George said to you?

We said silly things. We were in New York before he went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him. We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I’ve never told this — I don’t want to hold George’s hand. You don’t hold your mate’s hands. I mean, we didn’t anyway. And I remember he was getting a bit annoyed at having to travel all the time — chasing a cure. He’d gone to Geneva to see what they could do. Then he came to a special clinic in New York to see what they could do. Then the thought was to go to L.A. and see what they could do. He was sort of getting a bit, “Can’t we just stay in one place?” And I said: “Yes, Speke Hall. Let’s go to Speke Hall.” That was one of the last things we said to each other, knowing that he would be the only person in the room who would know what Speke Hall was. You probably know what the hell it is.

Yep.

I can’t amaze you with anything! Anyway, the nice thing for me when I was holding George’s hands, he looked at me, and there was a smile.

How many good Beatles stories are there left to tell that haven’t been told?

There are millions. Sometimes the reason is that they’re too private, and I don’t want to go gossiping. But the main stories do get told and told again.

Can you think of one now that you haven’t told before?

Hmm. I will rake through the embers. Oh, I’ll tell you one! I thought of one this morning. It’s pretty good. I don’t think I’ve told it. You’re going to have to say in the article, “I forced this out of him,” because it’s a bit telling-out-of-school.

I am hereby twisting your arm.

So when we did the album “Abbey Road,” the photographer was set up and taking the pictures that ended up as the album cover. Linda was also there taking incidental pictures. She has some that are of us — I think it was all four of us — sitting on the steps of Abbey Road studios, taking a break from the session, and I’m in quite earnest conversation with John. This morning I thought, I remember why. John’s accountants had rung my accountants and said: “Someone’s got to tell John he’s got to fill in his tax returns. He’s not doing it.” So I was trying to say to him, “Listen, man, you’ve got to do this.” I was trying to give him the sensible advice on not getting busted for not doing your taxes. That’s why I looked so earnest. I don’t think I’ve told that story before.

Tax filings — that’s some deep arcana.

I have dredged the barrel.

I know that your goal with making music is to do something that pleases yourself. What’s most pleasing to you on the new album?

I’m very happy with “Women and Wives.” I’ve been reading a book about Lead Belly. I was looking at his life and thinking about the blues scene of that day. I love that tone of voice and energy and style. So I was sitting at my piano, and I’m thinking about Huddie Ledbetter, and I started noodling around in the key of D minor, and this thing came to me. “Hear me women and wives” — in a vocal tone like what I imagine a blues singer might make. I was taking clues from Lead Belly, from the universe, from blues. And why I’m pleased with it is because the lyrics are pretty good advice. It’s advice I wouldn’t mind getting myself.

There’s a song on “McCartney III,” “Pretty Boys,” that is kind of unusual for you in how the music is sort of unassuming but the lyrics have an almost sinister edge. What inspired that one?

I’ll tell you exactly. I’ve been photographed by many photographers through the years. And when you get down to London, doing sessions with people like David Bailey, they can get pretty energetic in the studio. It’s like “Blow-Up,” [the director Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film thriller about a fashion photographer, thought to be loosely based on David Bailey] you know? “Give it to me! [Expletive] the lens!” And it’s like: “What? No, I’m not going to.” But I understand why they’re doing that. They’re that kind of artist. So you allow it. Certain photographers — they tend to be very good photographers, by the way — can be totally out of line in the studio. So “Pretty Boys” is about male models. And going around New York or London, you see the lines of bicycles for hire. It struck me that they’re like models, there to be used. It’s most unfortunate.

“Lavatory Lil” is another song I was curious about. That’s quite a title.

“Lavatory Lil” is a parody of someone I didn’t like. Someone I was working with who turned out to be a bit of a baddie. I thought things were great; it turned nasty. So I made up the character Lavatory Lil and remembered some of the things that had gone on and put them in the song. I don’t need to be more specific than that. I will never divulge who it was.

I have another bigger-picture question. In your experience, how is the love in a marriage different at different stages of your life and in different marriages?

I don’t think it’s different. It’s always a splendid puzzle. Even though I write love songs, I don’t think I know what’s going on. It would be great if it was smooth and wonderful all the time, but you get pockets of that, and sometimes it’s — you could be annoying. To Nancy I’m pretty complex, with everything I’ve been through.

In what ways?

I’m some poor working-class kid from Liverpool. I’ve done music all my life. I’ve had huge success, and people often try to do what I want, so you get a false feeling of omnipotence. All that together makes a complex person. We’re all complex. Well, maybe I’m more complex than other people because of coming from poverty.

And how do you think about money these days?

It has obviously changed. What has stayed the same is the central core. When I was in Liverpool as a kid, I used to listen to people’s conversations. I remember a couple of women going on about money: “Ah, me and my husband, we’re always arguing about money.” And I remember thinking very consciously, “OK, I’ll solve that; I will try to get money.” That set me off on the “Let’s not have too many problems with money” trail. What happened also was, not having much money, when anything came into the house, it was important. It was important when my weekly comic was delivered. Or my penpal — I had a penpal in Spain, Rodrigo — when his letter came through, that was a big event. When they had giveaways in comics with little trinkets, I kept them all. Some people would say that’s a hoarding instinct, but not having anything when I was a kid has stuck with me as far as money. You know, I’m kind of crazy. My wife is not. She knows you can get rid of things you don’t need.

You’re a hoarder?

I’m a keeper. If I go somewhere and I get whatever I bought in a nice bag, I will want to keep the bag. My rationale is that I might want to put my sandwiches in it tomorrow. Whereas Nancy says, “We’ll get another bag.” In that way, my attitude toward money hasn’t changed that much. It’s the same instinct to preserve. One of the great things now about money is what you can do with it. Family and friends, if they have any medical problem, I can just say, “I’ll help.” The nicest thing about having money is you can help people with it.

Something that has been a constant for you musically is your ability to keep coming up with melodies. It’s there on the new album — the melodies all flow. Is your facility for writing a catchy melody ever an obstacle to getting the songs to be more than just catchy? Because a good tune by itself is not always enough to make a good song. “Bip Bop” would be an example of that. Do you know what I’m saying?

No, I know. “Bip Bop” is not lyrically stunning. I was always embarrassed about that song. Literally, it goes, “Bip Bop / take your bottom dollar.” It’s inconsequential. But I mentioned that to a friend, a producer, a few years ago, and he said, “That’s my favorite song of yours.” So you don’t know what people like. It’s enough if I like it and enjoyed putting it on record and don’t particularly want to think of any more lyrics. I don’t want to sweat it. Sometimes maybe it would be better if I sweated it. Once or twice I tried to sweat it, and I hated it. It’s like, What are you doing this for?

Sixty-something years into writing songs, do you feel any closer to knowing where melodies come from?

No. There is something with my ability to write music that I don’t think I’m necessarily responsible for. It just seems to come easier to me — touch wood — than it does to some people. That’s it. I’m a fortunate man.

#paul mccartney #old paul #grandpaul #*m #(the start of the interview was pretty worrying (with him bringing up yesterday like after 5 seconds) but actually?#it turned out to be a decent one)#favourite bit hands down paul's dirty dreams. DUDE... he cannot keep it in his pants even when he is in his dreams #well actually he said he did but lmao #but yeah many other great bits. ''i'm a keeper'' ... loved that one #the complex man rant #and the john and george bits #him being the instigator #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love this guy :)

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sgtbradfords · 3 years

Note

Sorry your getting a ton of prompts off of me 🙈

Can you write a version of SE2E11

But slightly different

Caleb is a tech wiz and hacks the police computers

They think Lucy is just running late, they’re in roll call and the screen flickers on and it’s a live video of and unconscious Lucy strapped to a table getting her Day of Death tattoo

And basically it’s plays out similar, but they see her nearly escape they see her being forced into the barrel, and they have the live feed of her inside the barrel

Alright anon, first off thank your for your patience the past couple of weeks. I hope this does your request justice. Enjoy! :)

The only thing that Lucy Chen wanted to do was go home, unwind and crawl into bed. But according to her training officer she needed to go out, blow off some steam, in order to forget about the long and restless day they had endured. She thought over his words as she changed, reluctantly deciding he was right as she fished her phone out of the front pocket of her jeans, pulling up her social media messaging app, scrolling through before finding who she wanted, pressing his contact.

“Hey.” She said into her phone. “I know it’s late, but do you want to go get a drink?”

“I’d love to.” He said with a smile in his voice. “Want to meet back at Las Torres?”

“See you in twenty.” She told him, hanging up.

Caleb Wright was someone that Lucy never expected to stumble upon, let alone a person who found her somewhat worthy of being flirted with. It started when she met him while waiting at the counter of the bar, words and flirtation coming easily. Though she was not very forthcoming until the last minute about her occupation, she found him to be intriguing, and was surprised when he showed up at the station just to give her his number. She spent days playing the should she, shouldn’t she game which resulted in Lucy cyberstalking him on his social media pages.

Tim scolded her for not being on task as she sat next to him in the shop, scrolling through his Instagram and scoffed when he caught her later in the day watching a video of him playing with his dog, making sure to tell her that it probably wasn’t even his dog as she rolled her eyes at him. But, her training officer was also the first person to officially meet him, Tim going as far as to intimidate and question Caleb when the man visited the precinct, before he reluctantly handed over the number he had taken out of Lucy’s hands.

---

“Hey, have you seen Lucy?” Jackson West asked John Nolan as he walked out of the locker room. “She didn’t come home last night.”

“She’s a grown woman. Why, you worried?”

“No. Yes. A little? It’s just- she didn’t come home last night.”

Thinking that their friend may just be running late, the two rookie officers headed to roll call, taking their seats at the front.

“Where’s Chen?” Tim asked as he walked into the room, noticing his missing boot.

“We don’t know, she had a date last night and never came home.”

Alarm bells began ringing in Tim’s head as John turned around in his chair, asking his training officer, Nyla Harper if Lucy was in the locker room. The detective’s response sent chills up Tim’s spine. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts to find hers. The phone ringing continuously before going to voicemail.

“Something’s not right.” Tim said, hanging up before quickly walking back out of the room and into the bullpen. “Sergeant.” He said as he approached their superior. “Chen’s missing.”

“What do you mean Officer Bradford?”

“My boot is missing sir. Nolan and West have not been able to reach her, and I just tried her cell myself.”

Nolan spoke first. “She had a date last night.”

“And she never came home.” Inputted Jackson.

“A date? Did she go out with that guy, the one she met at the bar?” asked Tim. “Caleb… Wright, with a W.”

Jackson recalled her plans. “Yeah, she was headed to meet up with him when we walked out together last night, about 8:30? We haven’t heard from her since.”

“If she comes in late and we sound the alarm, she’ll be in more trouble than what it’s worth.” John pointed out.

“Her phone could be dead.” Mentioned the Sergeant.

“No.” spoke Tim, shooting the suggestion down. “I just called it and it rang before going to voicemail. She also keeps it fully charged with a charger in her bag.”

“She could be stuck in traffic or maybe she’s overslept and is still at his place.”

John and Jackson spoke together. “No, Lucy doesn’t do one-night stands.”

“This guy, Caleb Wright, he came by the station yesterday, gave her his number.” Tim told the other officers.

“What else do we know about him?”

“Nothing.” Said Jackson.

“I met him yesterday, he told me he works for a medical supply company. She watched a video of him playing with a puppy.” Tim told them as they gave him an incredulous look. “Chen was checking out his social media page.”

Grey shifted on his feet. “Bradford, take West and go run this guy’s name through NCIC and LAPD’s database, see what you can find, warrants, tickets, previous charges, anything before we go knocking on his door.”

“I can run a trace on Lucy’s phone, get her into MUPS and NaMus systems.” Nyla told her commanding officer before walking away.

Tim moved quickly, beckoning Jackson to follow as he approached an available computer terminal, sitting down behind the desktop as he began his search.

“What do you think?” Jackson asked as he pulled up a chair to the terminal.

Tim worked on punching in what he knew about Caleb. “I think that we’re working a serial killer’s case and that given the circumstances, it’s not looking good.”

“She’s going to be ok, right?”

Tim continuously glanced at the clock in the corner of the computer screen, watching as the numbers for the minutes went up.

“Officer Bradford. Officer Nolan said you were looking for me?” Detective Nick Armstrong asked as he stepped into the room.

“Lucy Chen is missing. No one’s had contact with her in close to thirteen hours and Harper just sent me a text that her phone is turned off and that the GPS has been disabled.”

“And you think it’s connected to Rosalind.”

“I think that there’s no such thing as coincidences.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes, Caleb Wright.” Said Jackson. “But we’ve gotten no hits on any database.”

“Any social pages?”

“He has something, but we haven’t started a search.”

“May I?” he asked gesturing to the chair. Tim stood, moving out of the way as Nick sat down. “Name?”

“Caleb. Wright, with a W.”

Nick began punching the information that was given to him.

“Huh. And you’re sure that he’s on the internet?”

“Yes.” Tim told him, pacing.

“That’s weird because Caleb Wright doesn’t seem to exist.”

“What?” he said as he rushed over. “That’s impossible I seen him playing with- with a puppy on it yesterday!”

“Well, whatever it was on, it’s gone now. He must have deactivated it.”

“Even if he deactivated it, we can contact the company and-“

“On what grounds? We have nothing to back up what is being implied Officer Bradford. If he is our guy, he’s already faked one identity.”

“Bryan Coleman.”

“Exactly. This guy stole Coleman’s life to gain access to the old zoo, where he used the isolation to kill his victims.”

“He’s already got fresh blood, now he’s going to need new killing ground.”

“He already has it. If we can find the land, that’s where we will find Officer Chen.”

“We don’t have a picture of the guy, how are we supposed to find him?” asked Jackson.

“West, you work on pulling the security cameras from the front desk and the back hall. I am going to go sit with Isaac downstairs and see if he can compile a sketch from what I remember, it will be better than nothing.” Tim instructed as he quickly made his way downstairs.

Thirty minutes later, Tim was taping up the sketch of Caleb onto the whiteboard at the front of the room as Nyla worked on putting up the necessary information.

“Officer Bradford.” Jackson said walking into the room, lingering by the door. “A word.”

Tim walked over, crossing his arms as he stood in front of the rookie.

“We have a problem. There’s no footage.”

Tim looked at him in disbelief. “What do you mean there’s no footage?”

��The footage from yesterday has been wiped.”

Tim shifted on his feet. “Wiped.”

“Yes sir, I checked the timeframe that you told me he was here and all the footage, an entire hour is nothing but static.”

“Son of a bitch! How did he- when did he-“

“What do we know?” Sergeant Grey asked, walking into the room, Detective Armstrong trailing close behind.

“Any footage of Caleb inside the department yesterday has been wiped.”

“He hacked our servers so we can assume he’s very good with technology which is why we were unable to find any social media pages.”

Nolan spoke up, raising a hand. “If that’s true then he has access to anything we have on Rosalind.”

“Not everything.” Pointed out Armstrong. “Almost all of our findings from her earlier kills have never been scanned into the system, those reports are all still on paper.”

“Who has those?”

“They are locked up in storage in the basement which you have to sign out but you’re in luck, I’m old school. I happen to keep a paper copy of all my cases, for if and when technology fails us, and those copies? Are in my office.”

“Get them.” Ordered Grey. “In the meantime, we do have an update.”

“The bartender at Las Torres recognized Lucy and Caleb.” Detective Armstrong stated, pulling up the security feed onto the smart TV. “The good news, there’s a security camera in the parking lot so we know that they left at 9:05. The bad news is that the angles on the camera are shit which means we are unable to confirm faces.”

“He knew where the cameras were.” Stated Nolan from a table in the middle of the room.

“Correct Officer Nolan. Now, we were able to obtain footage from a neighboring business and have footage of this car driving by four minutes later,” Armstrong told them as he played the footage on a loop. “the plates are missing but it matches the description of a car that was reported stolen yesterday morning.”

“Now, Officer Chen’s car was found in the alleyway where she left it last night. Unfortunately, the amount of evidence that we have discovered gives us every inclination that Caleb is Rosalind’s protégée.”

The sounds of the room came to a halt as the words sunk in. They had all thought it, but no one had uttered the suspicion.

“Officer Chen is one of our own, and I know how upsetting this revelation is, but we have to remain focused. We owe her that.”

Tim closed his eyes, clenching his fist as he fought the wave of nausea that sat in the pit of his stomach.

“Nora was abducted two nights ago and we found her eighteen hours later, already tattooed and about to be put into a barrel to be suffocated. We believe that Caleb’s timeline from abduction to death to be twenty-four hours.” Nolan told them as he took over.

“Officer Chen has been missing for almost fifteen hours now, giving us approximately seven hours to find her.”

“Unless the timeline is wrong and she’s dead already.”

Tim stood from where he was leaning on the table. “You’re wrong. Chen, she’s not like the rest of the victims, she’s a fighter.”

“I haven’t known Lucy as long as the rest of you, but Bradford is right. She’s going to do everything that she can to stay alive until we save her.” Spoke Nyla, gaining a nod of appreciation from Tim.

“I’ve issued a BOLO to be broadcast for Caleb Wright and Officer Chen all over LA and surrounding counties, so I will need more officers answering the tip line as the phone calls come in.” said Grey addressing the group of officers before he began to call them out by name, giving them their tasks, leaving the close knit group of officers in the room.

“Detective Armstrong?” the officer from the front desk asked, knocking on the glass door as she stepped into the room. “Someone dropped this off at the front desk for you.” She told the group, extending the hand holding a manilla envelope.

Nick reached out, grabbing the envelope, observing the information on the outside, finding his name printed on the paper. “No return address.” He stated, looking up at the officers around him.

Tim reached into the pants pocket of his uniform, pulling out a black pair of gloves, slipping them on before he reached out a hand to take the possible evidence. He carefully undone the metal clasp, using the flashlight from his duty belt to peek into the open package. Tim looked around at the faces of the other officers that had gathered around, carefully shaking out the contents, a lone USB drive falling out.

“What the fuck?” he mumbled under his breath.

“He’s playing with us, just like Rosalind.” Armstrong said as he ran a hand over his head. “We need to plug it in, see what’s on it.”

Tim picked up the stick, palming the drive in his gloved hand. “And what if it’s just another game?”

“And what if it’s not.”

“I’m not going to let my boot become another one of their casualties!” Tim told Armstrong, his voice raising with every word.

Sergeant Grey sighed. “We need to find an unsecured computer, one that is not attached to our servers.”

“I can help with that. I’ve got my laptop in the truck, Lucy made flashcards for us to study on the internet, and we were planning on studying after shift.” Offered Nolan.

“Get it.” Grey instructed as he pulled out his phone.

Nolan walked away quickly, returning just as fast with a bag in hand. He pulled the device from the bag, powering it on as Tim connected the USB drive, a lone URL link popping up on the screen as they crowded around.

“Click it.” The sergeant ordered as words began scrolling across the screen.

‘Detective Nick Armstrong. Let it be known, this one’s for you.’

The room was silent as they read the scrolling words on the screen before they disappeared, a video popping up in its place.

“Oh my god.” John said in shock at the video before them.

“Is it live?” asked Tim, his voice cracking with emotion.

“I don’t- it doesn’t-“ Spoke the rookie, stumbling over his words.

“Is there audio?” Tim demanded, his voice raising.

Sergeant Grey placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, grounding him. “We have to assume it is. She’s not in the barrel yet so she has to still be alive. Officer West, assist Detective Armstrong in going over the files he has. I want you to check out every file that has Rosalind’s name on it, in it, attached to it. I want history, financials, background, anything that may help us get a location. Find me something Nick. In the meantime, let’s get someone from IT up here to find us a location. Officer Nolan, you stay on the computer and if she wakes, Wright shows up or anything on that screen changes, you let me know immediately. Harper, contact her parents, don’t,” he said hesitantly. “don’t give them the full rundown of what’s going on but make them aware and that the LAPD is doing their best to find their daughter.”

Each officer went out the door, heading their separate ways as they went about the task they were assigned.

“Sir.” Tim said moving to the door, towards where his superior was walking out. “And me?”

Wade glanced over Tim’s shoulder at Nolan who was intently watching the monitor.

“She’s your boot Bradford, you know her better than anyone. Stay with Nolan and watch the feed.”

“But sir-“

“Watch the feed Bradford.” Sergeant Grey commanded as he left the room.

Tim sighed, running a hand over his face. He pulled out his phone, dialing the one person he knew he could rely on. “Hey, Lucy’s been taken. I need you.” Was all he said, hanging up the phone, clenching the metal device in his hand before stepping back into the room.

“Get Grey back in here, she’s waking up.”

“Hey Sarge!” He yelled out the door, running over to Nolan and the computer.

-----

Lucy Chen came to in a daze, her head throbbing, her mouth dry and her left side was burning. She knew what had happened as she glanced around the bare room, the realization that she had become one of them hitting her full force.

Instinct told her to pull at the restraints, the tape around her wrists not budging, making her realize that she wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until her numb body became more aware. She took in her surroundings, noticing the blinds we’re drawn, the sun filtering through, the wooden entertainment center and desk to her right, both covered in dust.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty.” He spoke from behind her, his footsteps heavy as he walked into the room she was being held in. “I’d offer you some, but it’s better if your stomach is empty, for you know, later. All the screaming and lack of air tends to make you-“ he said before pretending to gag.

She glanced around the room, looking for anything that could potentially give her a clue as to where she was being held, spying the bottle of water on the wooden table.

“Can- can I at least have some water?” She asked, remembering that water is more sustainable, no matter the circumstance.

“Oh, of course.” He said as he moved over to the table, reaching for the bottle. “I’m not a monster.”

Caleb sat his plate down as Lucy took the time with his back to her to further observe her surroundings for the split second she had, before he turned back around, twisting the cap off as he walked over towards her. She opened her mouth, taking any water she could get. “Ah, don’t get greedy.” He chastised as she swallowed the sip he had allowed her.

“Is this why you hit on me in that bar? Why you asked me out? So you could make me a victim?”

“No! Not at all!” he told her as he took a bite of the apple from his plate. “Though, I see the confusion. You weren’t the target Lucy, you were just an opportunity. I was there scoping out Armstrong. Honestly, I don’t know what Rosalind sees in the guy. But who am I to judge, we all have our fetishes.”

Lucy swallowed harshly, “Are you gonna bury me in Rosalind’s third unmarked grave?”

“You know, that was the plan. I was gonna put Nora in there, but then your friend screwed that up.”

“Why are you doing this?” She asked, her voice raising.

Caleb smirked, “You know, that’s more of a second date question. And we’re just not gonna get there. I’m sorry.” Lucy could feel her heart stop as his words confirmed her fears. “Now, I’ve got a lot to do before I put you inside-“

Lucy panicked as he began to walk away, she needed to know, she deserved to know “Wait!” she yelled, causing the retreating man’s steps to faulter. “Why- why the tattoo? Is it… some display of ownership? Knowing that you have the ultimate control over a person, deciding when they die?”

“No.” he huffed a laugh. “It’s not for me, silly. It’s for you, to force you to face the truth of your death. It is the gift of something we rarely get in life, clarity.”

“Did Rosalind teach you that?”

“No.” he said, his voice raising as his tone became irritated. “That’s mine.”

“Rosalind is your mentor, is she not? So that would-“

“No!” he interrupted. “No, It’s not like that. We are equals.”

“Does she know that?”

Caleb laughed. “You’re good Officer Chen. But I would think carefully of how you want to proceed, because this, I’m going to enjoy this.”

________________________

The room was quiet as they watched Caleb’s retreating back, the conversation they just witnessed settling in. “The window to the left of the screen is obscured, so there’s no way to find out where she is. Dammit.”

“How long till IT gets here?” Nolan asked grimly.

“Soon. Officer Nolan, I want you and Harper to assist West and Armstrong, the more eyes we have filing through the paperwork, the better chances of finding where this house is.”

Nolan stood, walking out in search of his training officer.

“Officer Bradford, I need you to stay here and monitor the feed, she may not know of the camera but look for any identifying characteristics in that living room that could point us in the right direction. If he comes back, notify me immediately.” The Sergeant instructed before walking away.

Tim sighed sitting down into the seat that Nolan had vacated, watching as his boot took in the details of the room, her fingers twitching against the wooden arm rest. “We’re going to find you boot.”

Twenty minutes later, the sound of two pairs of footsteps walked into the room, dragging Tim’s focus away from what the IT analyst, Marcus, was working on on a second computer. “Hey. Thanks for coming in.” He said standing as Angela and Wesley walked in.

“Of course. What are you working on?”

Tim clenched his jaw, extending a hand to show what was on the screen.

“He’s recording her?” Wesley asked in disbelief.

Tim nodded his head, “We think the camera is hidden so she’s not aware that she’s being watched. Day off?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Wesley said as shared a glanced with Angela. “Can I help?”

“What’s your tolerance level for cranks and asshats wasting your time?”

Wesley couldn’t help the smirk on his face. “I’m a public defender.”

Tim rolled his eyes as they walked out of the room. “There’s an empty spot next to West so help yourself to a notepad and a phone. Besides, nothing says we’ve got squat like listening to the public.”

Wesley sat down as Tim began walking back to the room, Angela walking beside him as he took large steps. “This is useless. We should be out on the streets, kicking down doors.”

Angela placed a hand onto Tim’s arm stopping them in the middle of the pen. “Whose doors Tim? They wouldn’t be able to tell us where he is keeping her.”

“I don’t know.” He said shaking his head. “I-I can’t just sit here Ang.”

“I get that, but you’ve got to get your head in the game.” She told him as she pulled him to the side.

“I don’t need a pep talk Lopez.”

Angela searched his face. “Then why’d you call me? Because clearly, you need to get something off your chest.”

Tim looked away, glancing around the room for possible prying eyes and listening ears before he looked back to his friend, letting out a sigh. “Look, she- she wanted to go home. Okay? Go to bed. And- and I told her that she should focus on something else. She went out with Caleb because I told her to Angela.”

Angela Lopez had been witness to the many emotions of Tim Bradford over the years that she had known him, but the one he was displaying now, was one that she hadn’t seen in a long time. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I should’ve! I’m a fucking cop.” He told her, his voice raising with every word as he stepped closer to his friend, lower his voice. “I was standing this close to the guy. Okay? Right across from him, and I never saw him coming.” He vented, his hands returning to his duty belt as he quickly got himself in check. “But she did though. She- Some part of her didn’t feel right about this whole thing. She hesitated and I-I pushed her right into him.”

Angela stood there, her mouth opening and closing as his admission of guilt left her speechless.

“Sergeant Grey!” exclaimed the voice of Marcus, as he stuck his head out of the door of the room.

Tim snapped his head towards the trembling voice as his feet quickly carried him, Angela hot on his heels.

Tim immediately went to the computer, finding a empty and broken chair on the screen. “Where the fuck is she?”

Marcus hurried back in, quickly pulling up footage on the second computer. “She escaped.”

Tim felt his eyes grow wide as he watched the recorded scene play out before them.

Lucy saw the opportunity, having previously checked the stability of the wooden chair by wiggling the pieces ever so slightly to find the weak spots, she waited for the best moment to make her escape. The chair was wooden, making it easier to break, and as soon as the front door closed, her knew it was time. As hard as she could, she pulled her right arm that was strapped to the wood, the wood splintering as she moved her wrist to her left hand, undoing the duct tape before removing the tape from her right wrist and then both of her calves.

She never heard the door open again, her hands shaking with adrenaline as she moved quickly to the back wall.

“Okay. We are ready to go.” Said Caleb as he walked into the room.

Lucy pulled her arm back and threw her punch as he walked into the room, knocking him to the ground as the force and lingering drugs forced her unsteady body to the ground. She quickly got to her feet, running towards the door as Caleb gasped in pain on the floor.

“Where did she go?” Sergeant Grey asked, his voice tainted with excitement of her escape.

“There’s no other cameras so we can’t- Shit.” Marcus cursed under his breath, typing furiously into Nolan’s computer. “He cut the feed.”

“What do you mean he cut the feed!” asked Tim, moving closer, finding a black screen in front of him.

“It’s gone, it’s still broadcasting but he must have turned it off.”

Tim ran a hand through his hair as he stepped back.

“What about a trace on the broadcast?”

“The signal is being run through an anonymizer, meaning that each time I try to back trace a location, the ISP is in a different location. He’s keeping it local to LA and the surrounding counties but it’s going to take time that we don’t have to get a better trace.”

The shrill tone of Angela’s phone broke the tension in the room. “Hey. What? He may, let me find out and I will get back to you.” She said ending the call. “That was Nolan, we may have a lead.”

Angela informed the group of Nolan’s suggestion, gaining approval from Sergeant Grey before she made her way to Wesley.

“Hey.” She said as he hung up the phone. “Do you have any clients at the Central California Women’s Facility?”

“Sure.” He said running a list of his clients through his head. “Three, I think.”

“They need to tell you who’s running contraband into the prison.”

“Okay, but I can’t do anything that would incriminate a client.”

“No one cares about black market cigarettes. Getting the smuggler might be out only hope at finding Lucy before it’s too late.” She urged.

“Okay.” Wesley said, picking up the receiver. “Let me make some calls.”

Thirty minutes later, the feed was back online, the screen showing the dirt on the ground, as faint voices could be heard in the background.

“Can we make it louder, hear what their saying?”

Marcus shook his head. “No, this is as loud as it gets for the real time audio.”

A loud rustling could be heard before the image on the screen became distorted, showing Lucy sitting in the barrel.

“So I can watch.” Caleb’s voice came through the speaker before he placed the lid onto the barrel, positioning the camera in Lucy’s face.

“Can you go back?” Grey asked as Nolan’s computer continued showing the live events.

Marcus pressed a variety of buttons on his computer, going back to when the camera showed Lucy sitting inside the metal barrel.

“Slow it down. There.” Grey pointed out. “That tree in the background, if we can get a location...”

Tim’s eyes stayed trained on the live feed, watching as Lucy began panicking. The nauseousness that Tim had felt all morning intensified as he witnessed his boot being sealed into the container, her fate being decided. He couldn’t stand there and watch what was about to happen, watch her- he walked out of the room, heading straight for the locker room.

Angela gasped as the clack of the lock snapping into place echoed through the metal, Lucy’s breaths becoming shaky as a loud thud and tumbling could be heard before coming to a stop, dirt settling around the barrel as Lucy let out a whimper.

“Mute the computer.” Grey instructed somberly, knowing what was about to come.

“Sarge?” Angela whispered.

Wade turned away from the screen, “Did Wesley get anything from his clients?”

“I.. Let me go check.” She told her commanding officer before walking out of the room, returning five minutes later with Wesley in tow.

“Benjamin Lassie. He’s who you want.”

Sergeant Grey turned towards the couple. “Start pulling everything we can on him, if you see Bradford and West grab them, we could use the hands.”

Angela nodded, walking out of the room and towards where she thinks Tim may be.

“Hey.” She said noticing him walking out of the men’s locker room. “Come on, we’ve got a name from Wesley’s client.”

Tim walked ahead of Angela, flexing his left hand, the motion not going unnoticed by the officer, but Angela chose not to comment as they walked to the closest computer terminal.

She worked on pulling the information about their lead, finding out that the low-level criminal had recently been paroled. “He’s on parole, Officer Scott Francisco.”

Tim and Jackson were able to easily find the man, making a traffic stop, obtaining the name and information that they needed.

Jackson glanced at the superior the entire ride back to the station as Tim made the appropriate phone calls, acquiring a no-knock warrant from a more than happy judge and the Mid-Wilshire’s SWAT team. The two uniformed officers parked a block away, staging as SWAT suited up and went over the plan for the breech.

Tim could feel their moods tumble even further down as their promising lead turned into a bust. “Caleb used Jerry’s identity to get into the prison, get close to Rosalind.” He realized, staring down the man sitting in the floor. “And you were our last shot at saving her.”

He stormed out of the house, throwing his gear into the back of the shop as before slamming the hatch closed. He wanted to lash out, yell at someone, chase down every lead they could grasp. But Tim Bradford was slowly giving up hope.

“Hey, check it out.” Jackson said, pulling the older officer out of his pity.

“What’s that?” he asked solemnly, gesturing towards the folder in the rookie’s hand.

“Copies of every credit card statement from the card that Caleb used in Jerry’s name. He may be good with tech but even when you steal someone’s identity, you can’t erase what’s been bought.”

Tim stood, pulling the folder out of Jackson’s hand. He glanced over the statements, a hopeful smile taking over. “There could be charges in here that leads us to Caleb. Let’s go, we’ve gotta get back to the station, get everyone on it.” He said in a rush, closing the folder as he hurried to the driver’s side of the shop.

Jackson pulled out his phone as he sat down in the passenger seat, hitting the contact for the person he needed as the phone began ringing. “Hey, Caleb stole Jerry’s identity just like Brock Coleman’s. Jerry had copies of every credit statement and gave them to us, we’re on our way back.”

“Good, we’ve got a lead here too. Wesley has been going over some of Rosalind’s biographical data, if we can cross-reference those statements with the data, we can find where he’s keeping Chen. Wesley thinks it’s somewhere that’s near and dear to Rosalind’s heart.”

“We’ll be there in ten.” Jackson told her, hanging up the phone, reaching for the file that was haphazardly thrown onto the dash, scanning through the documents.

True to his words they rolled into the parking lot ten minutes later, both walking quickly into the bullpen, finding Sergeant Grey, Angela and Wesley gathered around a table.

“Hey, hey, we’ve got something. Caleb used Jerry’s identity to rent a post office box in Kern County near the prison. But, he kept it up even after he quit. Stills pay for it, so there must be a place close by.”

“Wait, Kerns County?” Angela asked, digging through the piles of papers in front of her. “Rosalind’s family – her trust owns a farm there.” She said handing the paper over to Tim.

Tim grabbed it, looking at the information as he let out an incredulous laugh. “Son of a bitch.”

“Sergeant Grey!” Marcus huffed as he ran to the table. “She’s not got much longer.”

Sergeant Grey stood, pulling out his cell phone, scrolling through his contacts as he delivered orders. “Call Nolan and Harper, get them headed in that direction.” He instructed before speaking to the other person on the phone. “Hello Sir, we believe we have found Officer Chen. Yes Sir. Thank you.” He said as he ended the call. “Chopper will be here in five. Let’s go.”

The four officers stood on the helipad, Jackson keeping an eye on the live feed with his phone. Angela was on the phone with Kern County Sheriff Department, giving instructions to the other person on the line, telling them about the situation and where they were heading, requesting local backup.

“It looks like she’s talking to herself.” He mumbled, moving the speaker of the phone next to his ear, listening to the quiet melody coming from one of his closest friends. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Tim asked, turning to Jackson.

“She’s- she’s singing.” He whispered in disbelief, pressing the volume button of the already maxed out device as a chill went through his spine.

Jackson pulled the device away from his ear, handing it over to Tim who held it up to his own ear, hearing the soft voice of his rookie come through the speaker.

‘Say nighty-night and kiss me

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me

While I’m alone and blue as can be

Dream a Little Dream of Me’

Tim knew his rookie’s voice, whether it was sitting next to her for hours on end in the shop or listening to the hours long recording of her reading sentence after sentence to help him prepare for his Sergeants exam, he knew her voice. He had heard her sing before, quietly under her breath as she sung along to the song playing on the radio of the shop or her mumbling the words of the song stuck in her head that she had heard on her drive to work that morning. But he knew those words, the melody of the song that he was hearing her softly sing, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

The LA police department helicopter landed on the helipad as Tim stood frozen in place, his rookie’s oxygen deprived voice ringing in his ears.

“Bradford.” Jackson said questioningly. “Sir? Are- are you ok?”

Tim absentmindedly handed the owner of the phone their device back, the wind from the blades of the chopper hitting him, pulling him out of his trance. “Yeah.” He said clearing the emotions that were held his throat. “Let’s go.”

“She’s lost consciousness.” Spoke Jackson through the headset over halfway through the flight. Tim leaned his head back onto the metal wall, silently saying a hopeful prayer as a sense of dread overcame him.

Thirty minutes after takeoff, the helicopter was beginning its decent into an open field when something out of the corner of his eye, caught Tim’s attention.

“A tree.” He said pointing out the right side of the aircraft, remembering the piece of wood from a different perspective. “That’s the tree from the video.”.

The chopper landed, the passengers aboard hastily making their way out of the aircraft as they met the local deputies.

“If our calculations are correct, we’re out of time. Bradford, Lopez make your way up there to the tree, look for fresh dirt. Sheriff, Officer West and I will take your SWAT team and head towards the house where we believe our suspect to be.”

Tim took off in a run, Angela along with a few sheriff deputies following hot on his heels as they quickly approached the hill, scaling it with ease, swiftly reaching the top. He made his way towards the dead tree as Angela instructed the other officers to spread out in different directions in order to cover more ground as he walked the parameter around the dead tree, hoping to find something as he looked for any signs that the ground had recently been disturbed.

The late afternoon sun casted a glow onto the panoramic views around him, showcasing the dry California land that leaves everything in its path tarnished. But the burning star proved to be a blessing instead of a curse as the flash of something metal reflecting the sun’s rays back towards him, gained his attention.

He ran, stumbling over his feet as his knees slammed into the ground. A ring. And not just any ring, it was one his subconscious was familiar with, having seen it adorn her finger a countless number of times.

He picked it up, palming the warm metal holding the opal that was glinting in the sun. ‘She’s close.’ He thought as he stood, looking down at the ground around him before he began to stop on the ground, listening for anything abnormal.

It didn’t take long. “I’ve got her.” He yelled as his voice cracked.

Tim pocketed the ring, calling out once again, louder and more frantically as he fell to his knees, his voice echoing as the footfalls of Angela and the local deputies hurried over. He used his hands, moving away as much of the loose dirt that he could as other hands joined the effort, one of the deputies using an expandable shovel, casting it behind them.

“Come on.” He chanted under his breath as the metal lid of the barrel was exposed. He reached over, undoing the metal clasp as someone shoved the metal of the shovel under the lid, lifting the piece off in ease.

“Lucy.” He sighed as his arms reached in for her slumped form. “Help me get her. Let’s get her.”

“We need medical.” Someone said in the background, speaking into their handheld.

“Lucy.” He said once they extracted her as they laid her down.

“Is she breathing?” Angela asked as he glanced at her chest, finding no movement as his fingers went to her neck, feeling for a pulse.

“No, I’ve got no pulse.”

Tim leaned over, pinching her nose, giving her two rescue breaths as Angela moved beside him, counting out as she performed the thirty compressions. Tim giving her another two breaths, “Come on Lucy.” He whispered.

“Suspect had been neutralized.”

“MedEvac is five out.”

“Dammit Chen! Not like this.” He cursed as Angela counted to thirty once again as he leaned over, once again breathing for her. “Switch.”

Angela moved back and into Tim’s previous position as he laced his fingers together, pushing hard and fast into her chest.

“Tim…” Angela said worriedly.

“No!” He said in between counts. Angela was prepared to give another round of rescue breaths when a gasp came from before them.

“Holy shit.” Angela cursed, letting out the breath she had been holding.

Tim huffed out a laugh, smiling. “Lucy.” He breathed as both her arms rose, preparing for a fight. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re ok. It’s me.”

Lucy looked around with hooded eyes, as her head lulled to the side, staring at Tim as reality settled in, the tears escaping as she began to sob. He leaned over, pulling her into him, mindful of her injuries.

“I’ve got you Lucy.” He mumbled into her hair as her shaky hands grasped onto his uniform for dear life. “I’ve got you.” He repeated as she sobbed in his arms.

The next few hours passed in a blur, the medical helicopter flying in, loading up Lucy and taking her to the closest hospital.

“I’m going with her.” Tim sternly told the flight medic on board as they went to stop him from getting aboard. The medic knew then not put up a fight, watching as the officer climbed aboard, sitting next to his patient.

Soon they were in the air, Lucy holding on to Tim’s hand as the medic began their assessment. Her grasp never waned from his, even in her altered state of consciousness as he ran his free hand over her hair. He stayed by her side, never leaving her until they reached the awaiting staff of the emergency department.

“Sir, I know that she’s your partner, but I’m going to have to ask for you to leave.”

“I’m not-“

“We need to assess her injuries Officer Bradford.” The nurse stated firmly. “And in order to do that, you need to leave.”

“I-“ he hesitated as all the fight left him. “Ok.” He sighed, letting go of her hand. “Just let me- I’ll be back boot.”

Lucy sleepily smiled at his words.

He did come back, never leaving her side for longer than what he deemed necessary, keeping her unconscious form company as he sat at her bedside. They were two hours from home, affirming his decision to not go, at least not until he knew that she was ok. Wesley drove from LA, picking Angela up from the farmhouse with a change of clothes in the trunk, stopping by to give Tim his own fresh clothes and the emergency bag of clothes Lucy kept in her locker.

Jackson showed the next morning, giving Tim a break though he only left to stretch his legs before returning to the room. They sat in silence, Tim filling out his reports as Jackson scrolled through the apps on his phone. Around noon, Jackson stood mentioning going out to grab something to eat from the mom-and-pop burger stand that just so happened to have a second location nearby, Tim giving the rookie some cash and reciting the two orders he knew by heart.

He kept an eye on the clock, knowing that Lucy’s parents were due to arrive at any moment, Tim personally keeping them updated throughout the night on any improvements. There was none as the doctor chose to keep her sedated, but it was the thought that counts.

Tim was sitting on the doctor’s stool at her bedside when she came to, pretending to read a magazine as he watched her wake up. Lucy knew he was fooling no one as she chuckled.

“What are you reading, Teen Rebel?”

Tim looked at her with a teasing grin as he rolled over to her. “They actually have some really insightful political articles.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She said not believing him. “Oh. Which BTS member is your soulmate? It’s gotta be Suga, right?” she asked him as she leveled a look.

“Totally.” He agreed shaking his head as he skimmed the questions, not clear on what she was talking about. “What’s a BTS?”

Lucy laughed, a bad decision as her broken ribs protested at the movement. “Oh God.” She cried out in anguish as she took a steady breath, breathing through the pain.

Tim watched her with concern, masking it as she turned to him with a smile.

“Have you been here all night?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No.” he denied, shaking his head as he forced out another no, repeating the word as he looked away from her stare.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Mm-hmm.” She said about to call her training officer out on his lying capabilities when a knock sounded at the door.

“Hey.” Nolan smiled as he walked through the door. “You’re awake.”

Lucy turned her head, changing her posture in the bed as Jackson walked through the door, carrying a bag. “Hey. Is that food?” she asked excitedly, causing the men in her life to chuckle. “What, I’m starving ok?”

“I would wait on the food Officer Chen.” A quite voice said as they walked into the room, knocking on the door. “Doctor Allison Rivera. And you, Lucy Chen are one very lucky lady.” Lucy nodded absentmindedly at the words, she didn’t think herself to be lucky.

“You have several abrasions and a few stiches throughout, as well as a slight concussion along with two broken ribs and moderate dehydration.”

“Does that mean I’m going to be in the hospital for a while?”

“I believe that you can be discharged tomorrow. Your body is dehydrated, and I want to make sure no other complications arise.”

She turned her head, looking towards Tim. “How did you guys find me anyways?”

Tim opened his mouth to speak when Nolan interrupted. “It was all of us. I talked to Rosalind, Jackson found the credit card statements, Angela found the farm, Wesley talked to some of his clients and Tim made all the connections.”

Lucy nodded her head appreciatively. “Thank you.”

“Oh!” Nolan said removing the item from behind his back. “I brought you something.”

She smiled, laughing at the enormous pink teddy bear that was in his hands. “I can see that.”

“It was the biggest one I could find.”

“I would hope so.” She gingerly laughed once again. “Oh my god, I’m going to need a bigger apartment.”

“I think we’ll be just fine Lucy.” Jackson told her, smiling as he rolled his eyes.

“Thank you Nolan.”

“Hey!” Jackson weakly protested. “I brought you food! Besides, he cannot stay in my room.”

“Well, he is a she, and she is going to be sleeping with me in my bed, since I am clearly never going on a date again.”

“I’m not sure that should be your takeaway.” Doctor Rivera said from the foot of the bed, watching the interaction.

“Oh, hang on.” Nolan said looking at the doctor. “Statistically, that’s actually pretty safe.”

Tim quickly glanced at Lucy before looking away, nodding his head. “Definitely should.”

“Wow, so is this the kind of support and understanding I can look forward to from now on?” she asked as she looked around at each of them.

“Yes.”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh definitely.”

Lucy chuckled at their responses. “That’s great. That’s really good.”

“You hungry?” Tim asked her before looking at the doctor.

“You can eat, just keep the portions small and non-greasy for right now.”

Lucy nodded as she opened the Styrofoam container in front of her. “Wait. Is this- is this a veggie burger and fries with extra pickles?” she asked, looking at Jackson.

“Don’t thank me, it was all Bradford.”

Lucy picked up a fry, turning her head and smiled. “You know me so well.”

Tim laughed as she let out a sigh, chewing the greasy potato. “Too well.”

“Well, I’ve got other rounds to make but I will be back by this evening to check in on you. A nurse will be by shortly to take vitals and give you some medicine for the pain.” Doctor Rivera said, dismissing herself.

“Your parents called me on the way up and said they’re on their way, I’m gonna go meet them downstairs. Come on Nolan.”

“Oh great just who I wanted to see.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes as Jackson left.

“I’ve actually got a date with Grace in three hours, so I’ve got to head back to LA. But I will swing by your apartment tomorrow with pastries.”

Lucy’s face lit up at the word pastries. “Make sure there’s a bear claw!”

“For you, I’ll make sure there’s two.” He smiled, saying goodbye as he walked out of the room.

Lucy sighed, leaning her head back, closing her eyes. “Are my parents seriously coming?” she whined.

“Yes.”

She let out a groan, opening her eyes as she reached for the burger. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them, most of the time- but after all of this, I just don’t-“ she sighed, her words drifting off as she took a bite.

“You’re their only child Chen.”

She swallowed the bite. “I know, but-“

“Give them thirty minutes and then tell them you’re tired.”

Lucy turned her head. “Is that not the equivalent of going to the bathroom on a date and not returning?”

Tim shrugged before hesitantly speaking. “How are you?” he asked, his tone low and laced with concern.

“I’m-“ she began before letting out a sigh “I’m alive.”

He nodded at her honesty. She wasn’t ok, he wasn’t ok, and they both knew it.

She moved her left hand to the edge of the bed, leaving her palm up. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I don’t-“ she began, choking on her words as tears welled in her eyes.

“It’s ok Luce.” He whispered back, placing his hand in hers. Lucy relished in the feel of his hand in hers before a knock on the door tore them apart, her mom rushing in.

Tim rolled the chair away from the bed, wordlessly reminding her of his suggestion as her parents began speaking rapidly. Lucy looked past them towards Tim, her face pleading for help. He chuckled, shaking his head before moving silently towards the door. They weren’t ok, but with time (and a lot of therapy) they could be.

#tim bradford x lucy chen #the rookie fic #chenford fanfic #chenford fic #chenford #fanfic

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jaxxandcomet · 4 years

Text

Goodnight, Pogues ∞ JJ x Reader

Summary: The carefree, confident and kind kook turned Pogue has an encounter with Rafe on the beach, leading to a few shots being fired.

Warnings: Blood, death, swearing, guns, sexual assault, sexual references ( if there is more let me know! )

Word Count: 2k!

This was not requested but I had the idea of a series where the seemingly perfect girl gets in an accident and it changes how she sees the whole world. Loosely based on On My Block, at the end of Season 1.

GIF by heapass

The day had been amazing. Full of blue sky, puffy white clouds, and salty spray. The ocean felt amazing underneath your board. The sun shifting through the water and rippling the sand below.

“Surfs up bitches!” You yell jokingly as JJ hits a huge wave, riding it perfectly before falling off at the end. You and Pope, who stands in the shallows next to you, leaning on his surfboard, laugh.

“You never swear.” Pope says and you nod at him. He was right, you never did. You were the perfect daughter to the kooks, smart, independent, kind, confident, carefree but because you hung out with the Pogues, basically lived at John B’s, and were dating JJ, the high strung people from Figure 8 never called you their own.

“I was joking mother fucker.” You answer Pope, as he smiles, bursting into laughter.

“I guess you’re changing then y/n.” Pope says and you shake you’re head.

Little did you know you would have no choice over the change coming.

A few minutes later JJ and John B paddle towards you all and you fall into you’re boyfriends arms. John B splashes you as a joke and you sink under the water, swimming under your surf board to grab his leg.

Popping up a few seconds later, Pope and JJ are doubled over in laughter, leaning against their boards for support.

“You screamed like a little baby, man!” JJ moves your board to hug you and you flip off John B, who’s face is almost too red.

“Good one y/n. You and JJ are the funniest people in all of Kildare County.” Pope said and John B shook his head.

“Sorry Johnny, its true.” You joke and flash another smile. By the time you hit more waves and walk back to shore, JJ and John B are drinking beers and the sun says its almost four.

“Chief. Nice waves you caught, baby.” JJ gives you and smile and pats next to him on a towel. A group of tourons next to you give you a look and JJ flips them off as you sit next to him.

“Sorry about that.” You say to the tourons. Its not like they know that you and JJ are together. Maybe they want to get in his pants, which you can understand. If you were them you’d want to steal JJ for yourself.

“So whats for the eating boys?” You ask and Pope walks up, shrugging. He sits down to your left.

“You.” JJ says and you playfully slap his arm.

“Sarah Cameron.” John B says and you roll your eyes at both of them.

“Not girls, dingus one and dingus two. Thank you for the compliment babe, but I mean like actual food.” You say back and they look unfazed. When John B started dating Sarah it was like a blow to the heart for you. John B and JJ had been there for you when you’re father left and your mother married a rich kook on the other side of the island. You’d basically fallen apart then. You felt like he’d been replacing you. But Sarah and him were made for each other, and you couldn’t break them apart if you tried, and you never would.

“We could throw a kegger after begging Ki for free food?” Pope suggests and you shrug.

“I’ll pay for you guys. Ki told me once that they give the leftovers to the homeless.” You say and JJ squeezes your arm.

“Your too amazing y/n.” He was right, you were the calmest, neatest, therapist like person the Pogues ever met. You’d never be seen getting angry, or not seeing the other side of things. If you friends got into an argument, you were always the mediator and tried to help them see the other side of the misunderstanding.

Loading up your gear, as well as helping Pope out, you pile into John B’s van and head over to The Wreck, and you see Ki outside, taking someones order.

You let JJ and Pope get out first and then shut the door behind you to grab your boyfriends hand and rub the back of his hand comfortingly. Sitting down at one of the tables near the back of The Wreck, Ki comes over, wearing a light pink ruffle crop top and jean shorts. Her curly hair is pulled up into a half bun, the ends frizzing. Her eyes sparkle as she eyes you all down.

“I got your orders already in boys and girl.” She says and sits down, signaling to her father at the bar that she is now on break. “I get off work in 30, what are we doing?” She asks, leaning against Pope as his face turns red. You’ve known forever that he is head over heals in love with Kiara, and you can’t really blame him. She’s gorgeous, smart, cares about the environment. You’ve tried to get the answer out of her if she likes him, but she never says anything, so you stopped pressing. You didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

“Kegger,” John B says and you see him typing something on his phone.

“Inviting Sarah Mr Kook?” JJ asks and you try to read John B’s face. He smirks and then looks up.

“What? Uh, yes. I think.” You nod your head. Sarah is a good person, perfect for John B. She, too, was entirely beautiful, kind and the best girlfriend for John B. They fit together like puzzle pieces.

“Have you given her some of that John D already, mate?” JJ asks and you groan, fixing your posture after you leaned over in fake anger.

“You don’t have the answer that John B, but we all want to know.” You say. He’d told you that he nailed a few girls, which you were okay with. John B had nailed you and been your first kiss, which was hard to explain to JJ. You’d been so into him freshmen year, and then, it happened. But now, John B was entirely Sarah’s and JJ was yours.

“I mean, yeah.” John B blushed and JJ’s hand and his met in a high five, just before he setting a hand on your thigh. The warmth spread through your body and you grinned at your boyfriend, leaning in for a kiss.

“Thats my boy, Pogue style.” JJ says and you cringe.

“Okay ya’ll, this is getting weird. I’ll be back with your food soon.” You watch as Ki walks away, and then turn to JJ to see his gaze following her, landing on her ass.

“Well since the food isn’t here yet, JJ, do you want to go and get the stuff for the par-tay?” John B says, scooting his chair loudly to get up. JJ shrugs and you give him one more kiss as he walks away towards the door. Its just you and Pope now.

“Did you see him watch Ki?” Your best friend says and you nod.

“Don’t you feel jealous? Like I mean, if I were dating someone and the person looked at another girls butt, I would be pissed.” Pope says and you make eye contact with him, shifting your weight on the table.

“I don’t blame him. I know I’m beautiful, but he spent a lot of his life looking for a girl to have sex with. He told me sometimes it slips his mind. Then he feels bad about it. I love him, I know I’m enough for him. We are a good couple. I feel safe, you know.” Talking through it made your emotions feel better. Even though you didn’t get mad, the feeling of saying things out loud always helped.

A few minutes later, JJ and John B come back, and Ki brings the food. Once everyones eaten, you all pile into the car, and John B hands you the keys to his van. You smile at him.

You normally drove John B’s car, mostly because you were the most confident and had the longest attention span. You sat in the front seat and look back.

“Everyone buckled up?” You ask and Pope groans.

“Yes, Mrs bus driver.” JJ says in a high pitched voice, you break out a laugh, just like you have hundreds of times today. Sometimes your friends don’t understand that even though you feel great about your driving skills, and fairly sure you won’t crash the van, you just want them to be safe.

When you arrive at the boneyard, some kooks are already there, and you see Rafe Cameron with his stupid buddies Kelce and Topper doing a line of coke. Your face crinkles up with anger. Drugs are not a way to lessen the pain. Nor is drinking or smoking, for that matter, but especially not things like coke or dope. You shrug them off as people start arriving for the kegger, mostly just tourons looking for a good ol’ hookup on their week or two of vacation.

The sun starts to set as your boyfriend and John B set up the fire. You’re sitting next to Pope, who’s explaining something about dead bodies farting to a tourist that keeps checking her phone. You would normally listen to him, but you zone out.

Rafe, Topper, and Kelce are still doing lines of coke, even though they must be soaring high right now, and some blondie delivers a few cases of beer to them, adding to the pile of disguared bottles littering the sand.

After looking back at Pope and the girl, who walked away, you touch your best friends arm and pull him gently up.

“Want to go and look for sand dollars and watch the sunset?” You ask, and he nods his head. When you and Pope both met, you found matching sandollars, small and perfect, and got them made into bracelets. You’d been on the beach after a fight with John B, and Pope came up to you, wondering what a kook was doing on the cut. You didn’t explain the circumstance, and you don’t exactly remember how you both found the sand dollars, but now they were tied around your necks as perfect pendents, keeping you guys together.

You grab JJ’s arm and whisper what you and Pope are doing before he tells you to be safe. You lean in for a kiss and you can feel his smiling, tasting beer and mint on his lips.

“I love you, and I will.” You say, and he turns back to John B, who is talking to Sarah about something.

You and Pope walk past the other groups of people, getting wasted, as usual, and then find your way to the ocean. For a few minutes its quiet, just you and Pope shifting through the sand to look for anything beautiful, until you both sit down on the edge of the foam to watch the sunset. Its red tonight, a deep and startling color. Full of hints of gold, and sandy colors, and then some darker ones mixed in.

“You always try and watch the sunset.” Pope says as you pull out a small notebook from your shorts pocket. Inside, you describe the sunset tonight. Its colors, how it made you feel. Try and compliment it.

“I try to. Somedays I miss it, but its nice to see something beautiful every day.” You say, and then stand up suddenly. You see something in the sand in front of you. Bending over, you find its a broken sand dollar, one side torn to a sharp, serrated edge that would cut your skin.

“Ugh.” You say, kissing it before someone whiles behind you.

“Nice ass, y/n.” Rafe says, and you turn around to see him stumbling towards you, empty beer bottle in his hand.

“Thanks Rafe, but stop looking at it.” You say and he grins, tossing the bottle on the ground. Pope’s up in seconds, glancing back at the firelight where the kegger is still happening. Its the only thing, other then the moon, lighting the scene about to take place.

“I don’t want to. You know, maybe I could have some of it.” He says and you shake your head. He’s coming closer to you and Pope steps beside you, fear, and anger, in his eyes. Your scared to, but don’t let it on. No one can know your emotions, especially not this high, and drunk kook.

“I don’t think so. In fact, maybe go back to your friends.” You say as he comes into three feet of you. His hands reach out to grab you and Pope pushes them away, just as Rafe shoves him to the ground, kicking his side. You push the sandy haired boy and his knuckles dig into your skin. Pope is trying to get up, but Rafe must have broken a rib because his breathing is hard and flushed.

“You must have known you’d get fucked tonight, with that outfit you’re wearing.” Rafe says, and you kick him at his groin. You were wearing a pair of Levi jean shorts, a lacy white bra, and one of JJ’s button shirts to cover up your breasts, leaving the rest unbuttoned.

“What I wear has no affect on if I want to have sex with you Rafe,” you say, calmly, though fear is coursing through your bones. Rafe, struggles to get up, and almost falls over again, and your backing towards the waterline.

“Whatever you want to believe y/n, but you’ve made me very angry.” Rafe says, a little to loudly, and you cringe. Any chance at this not getting physical was out of the picture now. “And you know what happens to people that make me angry.” You stop moving backwards as your heals touch the water, and glance back at JJ, who, once he heard Rafe’s voice, came turning and walking quickly towards the scene unfolding.

While you were looking at your boyfriend, and now John B, who are both making their way towards you, Rafe, puts his hands on your waist and shoves you down. You try and punch him in the face, and grab his ankles and you kicks you in the side. Crawling away and standing up again, five feet away, he comes running at you.

Cold fingers slide around your neck, and you can’t breath. Rafe must be choking you out. With a last grain of effort, you spit in his face and try to back away, and then he pulls something out, and two shots are fired.

For a second, you didn’t know it was you that got shot. People were screaming and running away from the boneyard, and something wet was seeping into your shirt.

Then, the pain hit, and a scream came erupting from your mouth. Thousands of knives stabbed you right below your ribcage, in two different spots, and you fell to the sand, shaking.

This was like the movies. It was the movies. How could you be feeling so much pain? You must be dead already. It only made sense. This was to much. But you couldn’t leave JJ or Pope or John B or Sarah or Ki without saying goodbye.

Someone was right next to you, looking into your eyes. The pain was getting worse, and making your vision white. All at once, your hearing came back, and Pope was next to your left side, with JJ on the other. Both were holding your hands, which were laying in red sand.

You look down, but the pain stops you from seeing the bullet holes in your chest.

“Call 911!” Ki shouts and Sarah picks up the phone, dialing the number.

Your breaths come out in shocked waves, pulling and turning. Its getting harder to get oxygen as well. Somethings clogging up your throat.

As you wheeze for air, and try to stay afloat, you desperately want to watch whats happening, but your so tired. What time is it? It must be past your bed time by now. You have to tell JJ and Pope goodnight, just like you always do.

“I-I lo-love you gu-guys.” You muster out quietly, and JJ shakes his head. With each word and breath your getting more ready to fall asleep. “Goodnight, Pogues.” You say, and JJ clutches your face. You’ve never seen him cry like this before. Big tears sliding down his face.

“Don’t fall asleep. Please don’t fucking fall asleep!” He screams and you hear something wailing in the distance.

“But I-its getting hard-harder to breath JJ. I don-don’t want to fight any lo-longer. Please let m-me sleep.” Your voice is horse and choked. Your breathing is the same, only coming in short bursts.

“Don’t give up, please.” Pope says and you shake your head.

“Listen to Pope, don’t fall asleep. We love you. Keep fighting!” JJ orders, but you zone out. Is that blood in your mouth? Something tastes metallically.

“Don’t let her fall asleep JJ. She might not wake up.” John B says, and you watch as he stares at you, Sarah hugging him tight. She must have already called the ambulance.

“Look at me, okay,” JJ says. You try to, but yours eyes are closing. Pain stiffles a cry as Pope is leaning over your midsection, pressing something to seep up the blood pooling from out of you. “Your going to be okay,” JJ says.

“Goodnight John B, goodnight Sarah and Ki, goo-goodnight Pope. Goodnigh-good-goodnight JJ. I love you guys.” You speak slowly, and JJ shakes his head.

“Don’t fall asleep, please.”

“We love you Y/N. Please don’t leave us.” Ki sobs and Pope looks into your eyes.

The wailing is getting louder. Closer. And then the long awaited sleep breaks through.

Tell me if you want it to be continued!

a and c

@apoguecalledjj @drewswannabegirl @yuxsh06 @kindapinkskies @spider6oy @jjmaybankwildtimes @midnightmagicmusings @r0s3mm @pankowrudeth @ijustreallylovethem @love-chx @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @ceruleanjj @outrebanx @thegreatestofheck @anonymous0writer @poge-life @popcsheyward @ad-infinitums @jjsmaybcnk @collecting-stories @maybebanks @northcarolinanative

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missmarrypotter · 3 years

Text

It happened - i'm writing a outer banks fanfiction right now and that is the beginning.!

And it is about ... No not Rafe. I'm shocked too ... It's about .. Topper. Why? Idk. .. i just felt it

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"Rafe, can i ask you something about Y/N?" Topper asked his friend while hitting the golf ball as hard as he could. He probably should have looked at the Ball for that and not at his Golfing Buddy.

"Yes she has Nipple piercings" Rafe mumbled, sipping on his Beer.

"Uhm no .. i mean yeah i know i can see that every time she doesn't wear a bra" which was quite often.

"Those Boobs do not need any bra like ever. Those are perfect"

"Yeah totally … but what i actually wanted to know is .. like are you .. do you wanna date her?"

Rafe seemed a little surprised by the question but he took his time to think about it.

"No Man. She is a great Girl. The best. But we're just having a good time you know?"he grinned.

After he downed his Beer Rafe hitched up his left eyebrow. "But why are you asking Bro?"

Topper sighted. He got into the Golf Cart, Rafe taking the place beside him.

"I always wanted to have my first time with my girlfriend i'm madly in love with but since your sister turned out to be more like a dead end i thought about asking Y/N if she could help me out on that" he confessed as they drove to wherever that fucking golf ball landed. He was so frustrated. He tried everything he could to be the perfect Boyfriend. He was patient, loyal and made sure she was happy all the time. But for what? To be cheated on? With John B.? Shit. That probably bugged him more than Sarah not letting him have his shot with her. And the boys teasing him about his still remaining virginity did not help either.

Rafe nodded his head. "Solid idea, you are probably going to enjoy it much more because you won't be the nervous wreck you were around my bitch sister aaand she actually knows what she is doing" he said, patting Toppers shoulder.

"Thanx for your support man but don't call her a bitch"

"I'm just saying it how it is buddy. So what's the plan?"

"I haven't actually thought about it that much. I mean it's really hard to catch her alone. It's either Kelce, you, me and her or we are out with our families. Or she is with you" He whined, currently searching for his golf ball.

"Huh true. You know what, we switching. I was going to do the grocery shopping with her after our game for tonight's sleep over but you, my boy, will do that with her instead" he suggested, downing his now third beer.

"Oh man, yeah. That would be perfect. I owe you." Topper thanked Rafe, playfully punching his chest.

Said shopping took place earlier than planned because that ball had vanished to god knows where. After almost an hour searching they gave up. Rafe drove Topper to Y/N's mansion, explaining the change of Plans. He left horny Topper and confused Y/N with a massive grin on his face.

After Topper and Y/N had everything they needed for tonight and much more, they headed back home. Topper had been awfully quiet the whole time. He felt like a frog was sitting in his throat. It was kind of a big deal. It could ruin their friendship. But on the other side - it's not like they haven't kissed or seen each other naked before. Drunken kisses and skinny dipping was very common in their clique. But sex was still something completely different than a drunken make out Session. On the other hand Y/N and Rafe beeing fuck buddys on occasion did not hur the groupdynamics either. So much thoughts.

"Topper?", Y/N asked while waving her hand up and down in front of his face. " You good Sweetcheeks? The icecream in your bag is going liquid" she giggled. Her bags were already empty.

He apologized while stuffing the icecream into the freezer next to what felt like 100 Pizza kartons. They'd need them tomorrow for their hangover for sure.

"You can put me there as well, I'm sweating like a marshmallow over a campfire. It's just so fucking hot today" she breathed out while she tried to fan fresh air into her face with her hands.

"I think we're done here. Does Changing into swimwear and a shower sound good or good right now?"

Topper nodded, following her upstairs. She went into her own bath while the boy went into the guest's bathroom. Well to be honest it was more like Kelce, Toppers and Rafe's bathroom than anything else. They stayed around so much that everything they needed was already stored in there. They even had a little wardrobe in there with all the clothes they forgot from time to time.

After he was done showering he put on a pair of short jeans he found in their treasure trove of clothes. They were a little tight. Whatever. As he was done he made his way into Y/N' room. She was sitting on her bed. The clothes she chose were a twisted bandeau bikini top with leopard print. It was washed out and looked almost vintage while her white skirt couldn't shine any brighter. It was that kind of school girl skirt you know from all those american High School Drama shows just without the scottish pattern. Yeah right that one you wanna wear when you have to pick up shit from the ground while everyone looks at you.

She smiled at him the second she noticed him

"My brother's shorts look good on you" she noted.

He was 13. That's probably why they were that tight on him.

"So you wanna tell me why you acting all weird or what?" She asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Fuck. She noticed.

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This will be my first smut .. and i hope i can pull it off 🤣

Like most other fanfictions that's my Version of the characters not like they are in the show.

English is not my first language so excuse my mistakes, please 🙈

Tell me what you think if you feel like it 🌟

#rafe cameron #Topper Thornton #topper imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx rafe #obx topper

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puckyeahobx · 4 years

Text

in the middle of the party b*tch get off of me

a/n: here’s some jj for you guys....this is a personal favorite of mine and very much so inspired by the one tik tok he posted where he had handcuffs O.o

summary: y/n and jj go to college together and celebrate halloween at his frat house <3 sexiness ensues

warnings: nsfw duh

It wasn’t that you thought JJ was dumb, but it was moreso that you thought JJ was focused on other things like fixing cars, finding the best weed in a fifty mile radius, and taking care of his friends. His criminal record also didn’t necessarily lend itself to an academic lifestyle either, now that you thought about it...but JJ had never ceased to amaze you as long as you had known him, so I guess you really should not have been shocked when he showed up on your doorstep with an acceptance letter to North Carolina State. He said it had nothing to do with you thinking of going there too, but you knew better.

High school ending had really been freaking him out even if he had tried not to show it. His friends were the one thing that had kept him grounded all of these years and he wasn’t sure what would become of him once you all went your separate ways. Luckily, though, you ended up choosing NC State. They had the best program for your major out of everywhere you applied and had offered you a decent chunk of cash. It had nothing to do with JJ going there...obviously.

Kie was at UNC Chapel Hill, Pope at Duke, and John B was on a gap year, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do, which left you and JJ to your own devices your freshman year. It was a big school and you both found groups of people you liked, JJ with his frat brothers (also a huge shock to you, but the guys in his frat were actually really cool and pretty pogue-like, he wouldn't be caught dead in a kook infested frat) and fellow social services majors, you with your roommates and friends from classes, but you two always ended up spending the most time with each other anyway. It didn’t take very long into your freshman year to realize that old habits really do die hard. Whether it was walking to class together, eating in the dining hall, studying in the library, you guys were always together. Sometimes your new friends joined you guys, but more often than not when you weren’t in your dorms you were alone together. This wasn’t an issue for you, of course. Just like the rest of the world, you had been into JJ since you first met him. And lately, through all the alone time and leaning on each other, it became clear that he might maybe feel the same way.

It was the small things like how his hand rested on your back when he walked up behind you or when his arm fell on your shoulders when you sat on your shitty dorm futon together or how anytime one of his friends flirted with you in front of you his jaw clenched and he suddenly was at a loss for his usual sarcastic banter. But you were getting ahead of yourself, right? You two were each other’s rocks at this time. It was probably all platonic like it had always been. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t push the limits of friendship and have a little fun from time to time, did it? No, no it didn’t. So when Halloween came creeping around the corner, you made sure you had your fun.

JJ’s frat was obviously throwing a party in celebration of the holiday, because if there’s one thing frat guys love it’s alcohol and almost-naked girls - the true nature of Halloween. It was a costume party but that was pretty much code for “Show as much skin as possible”, so you went for the classic angel look. A white bra, a white mini skirt you found at the back of your friend’s closet, and Party City wings. It was truly innovative. You tried to make it look like you actually tried by hot gluing some rhinestones on your bra and doing your hair and makeup all ethereal and sexy, but you knew that as soon as you stepped into that disgusting, sweaty frat house you would somehow go from an 11 to a solid 7 and that was just something you were going to have to be ok with. It was always dark anyway.

You didn’t arrive at the party until a little after ten because your friend went a little too hard at the pregame and had already vomited all over her devil lingerie, so you all had to deal with that mess before tucking her into bed and escaping out the door before things could get worse. But after many texts and snaps from JJ harassing you for keeping him waiting, you were finally there and your stomach was flipping with nerves. JJ refused to reveal what he was dressed up as, saying it was a surprise, and you just couldn’t wait to see him as someone else, hoping he’d see you as someone else tonight too. Someone he wanted to be with.

The music was heard from the front lawn as you stepped out of the uber and up the steps, waving to the pledge from your Comp 101 class, thankful that JJ had somehow weaseled out of his pledge duties for the night. Once you stepped inside you and your friends immediately scoped out your surroundings. There was a party going on in the main entrance and living room, but there was also lights and music coming from the basement, meaning JJ could literally be anywhere. Luckily, the ratio of guys to girls was positively halting so being able to single out a 6 foot man amongst a sea of girls shouldn’t be that hard.

And then, you saw him.

You almost fell over at the look of him. You could tell he had already started drinking and was a little sweaty by the sheen covering his face and the way his hair was standing up on its own, like it always did after he ran his hands through it. He was leaning against the wall, PBR in hand, assessing the crowd and laughing with the guy on his left. Your eyes travelled down from his hair and glowing skin to his neck and chest, both completely uncovered. He was in a navy button up that was incredibly tight around his biceps but only buttoned on the bottom two buttons. A gold badge was pinned over his right breast, and then it dawned on you.

“You’re a fucking cop!” You punched his arm as you snuck up on him.

Startled and rubbing his arm, he softened when he saw who had just assaulted him. “Never thought you’d see the day, huh?”

“What happened to ACAB? Looks like someone’s all talk…”

He scoffed and threw his arm around your shoulder, walking with you towards the bar, “It’s called irony sweetheart. I thought a genius like you would understand that?”

You rolled your eyes and shook his arm off you, laughing at his remark (and trying to not focus on the “sweetheart” of it all), “So, what branch of the police force is it that allows their officers to walk around half naked?” You teased as you walked up to the bar, asking the frat brother in nothing but a cowboy hat and too short cut off jean shorts for a cup of whatever the drink was tonight.

“Um the one with all the sexy stripper cops. They even gave me these,” You turn back around with your drink against your lips and you nearly spat it out when you saw what he was talking about. He had a pair of what looked like actual handcuffs dangling off his pointer finger, “Fully functional,” he finished with a wink.

You gulped and hoped he didn’t notice, “Very impressive, does the rest of the force know about the stash of weed in the loose floorboard in your dorm room?”

His face, and the handcuffs, fell. “You’re no fun, Y/N. It’s Halloween! You can be anything you want! And tonight, I’m the only cop that isn’t a bastard.”

You laughed at his mini outburst and put your hand on his cheek sweetly, still laughing. “You’re right I’m sorry. You make a very non-bastard cop. It suits you.”

“I always have looked good in blue.”

Lightly smacking him you rolled your eyes again and brought your hand back to your cup, looking at him as you took a big drink. He was looking directly back at you. You finished off the cup and tossed it at the overflowing trash can, “Let’s dance. I love this song.” This was a lie, you had never heard this song before in your life, but you just wanted an excuse to grab his hand and drag him on the dance floor.

Everyone around you was dancing ass to dick, going absolutely stupid in a true intoxicated fashion, but you weren’t nearly drunk enough for that yet. So, instead, you and JJ did what you always did was just jump and scream at each other, throwing in some limb flailing every now and then. If you were really lucky, he would throw in the sprinkler every now and then. This was all fine and dandy, a couple of songs deep, until you felt your elbow accidentally collide with something rock hard, immediately followed by something wet splashing all over your back.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-” you said, spinning around, mortified. You were met with the biggest man you had ever seen in your life who did not look very happy to see you looking back at him. But, considering his eyes looked glazed over, you figured that had less to do with you and more to do with the fact that he was probably off something far out of your league.

“Fucking watch where you’re going next time,” He gruffed at you as he jerked the arm you had hit away.

You were stunned by how aggressive he was, “I’m- I’m sor-”

But before you could stutter out an apology, JJ was pushing you behind him, puffing his chest out as he faced the roided-out gentleman giving you a death glare. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”

“She spilled my drink,” The giant said as if you had just murdered his dog.

“Yeah and this is a frat house, go turn on the faucet in the sink and I’m sure Captain Morgan will come out,” spat JJ.

Sasquatch scoffed and shook his head at JJ, “Just keep a better handle on your bitch, pledge. I don’t need some slut wasting all of our alc.”

“You son of a bitch.” You saw JJ’s arm wind back, his fist clenched ready to swing.

“JJ, no!” You grabbed his arm before he could do something seriously idiotic and didn’t let go of it until you had made your way off the dance floor and into the backyard. “What the fuck were you thinking, trying to throw a punch at that guy?! He looked like he eats whole goats for breakfast!”

His hands were running through his hair and he was pacing. You could tell he was trying not to punch the siding of the house - you had seen him worked up like this countless times over your near lifelong friendship. Loyalty was both his greatest strength as well as his greatest curse. “He called you a bitch, Y/N! And a slut! In the same breath!”

Looking at him now, his hair all messed up, his shirt still unbuttoned, and face as emotional as ever, you had never been more attracted to him. You closed the gap between the two of you and grabbed his face between your hands, “Thank you for trying to protect me, but I’d much rather be a bitch and a slut if it meant you weren’t pulverized by Bigfoot.”

At the feeling of your touch, his whole demeanor changed. You saw him swallow and take a breath, “Yeah, uh, well. You know. I’ll always protect you, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for, ya know. I live to serve and protect you know,” chuckling half-heartedly as he tapped the badge on his chest.

You tried to laugh along with him, but you were too busy staring from his lips to his eyes and focusing on the dizzying feeling of being so close to him. He made no effort to move out of your personal space and having him here, his back against the siding of the house, your hands on his strong jaw, you felt like maybe now was the time to bring up what you had been feeling these last couple of months. But before you could open your mouth to spill your guts, something in him snapped and he sprung forward at you.

Suddenly, your hands were in his hair and his hands were on your waist and now you were the one with your back against the giant brick building, the bricks scratching deliciously against your exposed skin. You whined against his lips as he pressed against you, the sound apparently shocking him out of his trance because just as suddenly as it had started, he was pulling away, leaving you completely dazed, lips still half puckered as your eyes fluttered open.

He was back to pacing, not daring to look at you. “God that was fucking stupid, I’m so sorry Y/N. You were just yelled at by some heavyweight douchebag and all I could do was not throw a punch and then I just had to go and kiss you like a fucking jackass,” he paused his pacing and looked at you, his face all screwed up with guilt, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

For a moment you considered the situation and didn’t move a muscle or say a word but then you just laughed. An eruption of manic giggles fell from your lips as you watched him go from guilt to confusion. “You’re a real fucking idiot you know that,” you managed to spit out between laughs.

“I mean, yeah, jackass, idiot...they’re one in the same I guess,” he seemed hurt by your words so you stepped closer to him again.

“No, God, shut up. You’re not a jackass. But you are an idiot. I don’t care that you kissed me,” you paused, “That’s not true. I care a lot, actually, because I loved it and I wish you wouldn’t have stopped because I was really starting to get into it after the, like, 12 longest, most torturous years of build up ever.”

He couldn’t believe the words you were saying, “Wait...so you- you like me?”

“What, you think I come to the frat parties for the mystery booze and trap music?”

Now it was his turn to laugh, his face completely breaking open in elation, “And to think I just assumed you were a party girl...turns out I’m just irresistible.”

“Oh shut up,” you sighed as you slammed your mouth against his again, pulling him down to your height. Once again his hands found their firm grip on your hips, holding on for dear life.

And then he pulled away again.

“Stop fucking doing that. Kiss now talk later,” you tried to lean back in.

“No, uh, I just,” he cleared his throat, “I was just wondering if you wanted to take this inside maybe?”

You smiled up at him before kissing up his neck and whispering in his ear, “Whatever you want.”

He shivered and groaned, breaking away from you, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside. You weren’t sure where he was taking you because, since he was a freshman, he didn’t live at the frat house or anything so it’s not like he had a bedroom. Not that it mattered. He could take you to a damn broom closet for all you cared. But he didn’t take you to a closet or even a vacant bathroom. You maneuvered around the sweaty crowd of people until you were back at the front of the house but this time going up the staircase where all the upperclassmen lived.

“JJ what are we doing up here…” You asked with a slight edge of concern in your voice.

His face was full of mischief as he looked back at you, smirk plastered across his lips. “Don’t worry about it baby, I’m just trying to find us somewhere a little more comfortable.” And with a wink, he was turning the knob on a door that definitely didn’t belong to him.

As far as frat boys went, you imagined this was a relatively well kept room. There were still some pizza boxes stacked on top of the desk and clothes spilling out of the closet but, all in all, it didn’t look infested or anything.

“JJ, who’s room is this?” You asked as you saw him lock the door behind you.

“Bigfoot’s,” he said with that same smirk on his face, complete and total pride practically bursting his seams.

Your mouth dropped as you looked at him incredulously. JJ was always one for pranks and revenge, but this floored you.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” You said in awe as he made his way back over to you.

“Maybe, but damn. What a way to go.”

Then he was kissing you once more, but this time he had guided you back towards the bed and you were laying underneath him, his body hot and hard against yours, making it hard to breathe. His hands ventured from your hips to your hair and back down again, making sure to give your tits a squeeze on the way back down, pushing them back behind you to guide your ass up so he could get as close to you as possible. You were back to your gasping and whining as you felt the effect you had had on him through his pants, grinding against him in desperation.

“Fuck you’re so fucking sexy, Y/N,” he moaned against your neck, leaving the slightest of nips along your jaw between kisses. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this or how many times I’ve thought of you exactly like this.”

“You can have me anyway you want. I’m yours,” You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying before the words left your mouth, but it didn’t make them any less true.

He growled against your neck and grabbed you again, scooting you up towards the top of the mattress. His hands found yours wrapped around his neck and took them in his hands, pushing them above your head.

“Anyway I want, huh?” He was sitting on his heels, looking down at you with hooded eyes. All you could do was nod. “Well, I do have these handcuffs, and it’d be a shame for them to go to waste.” You moaned at the implication and watched him unhook them from his shorts and attached them to your wrists, wrapping them around a bar of the headboard. “Told you they were fully functional,” he ended with a wink.

All you could do was whimper as he bent back down to kiss your lips and then your neck, taking a pit stop at your chest to move the cups of your bra aside enough for him to give plenty of kisses there as well, until he was finally trailing his tongue down your stomach. He looked up at you as he reached the waistband of your skirt. You nodded, “Please,” not even being mentally present enough to care about how desperate you sounded.

“So polite,” he muttered as he pulled your skirt and panties down in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare to him. “So damn beautiful.”

Then he was on you like a starved man. JJ had always been popular amongst the ladies on the island and while you always assumed his looks and bad boy nature had been enough to seal the deal, you now know why they kept coming back. He was a fucking machine. Between the way his fingers fucked you skillfully, knowing exactly where your g-spot was on the first try, and the masterful way he used his tongue on your clit, it was no wonder he had a body count in the double digits. You felt yourself catapult towards the finish line at an embarrassing speed. All you wanted as to grab onto his hair and grind yourself against his face. You were so close when he took his mouth off you and replaced it with his thumb, his fingers keeping their pace inside of you.

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Maybe he’ll hear you from downstairs. He told me to control my bitch but I’m not quite sure this was what he meant.” He crawled back up your body, one hand bracing himself beside your face and the other inching you closer and closer with every second, “You look so fucking pretty, getting fucked by my fingers, Y/N. You’re so wet for me already and I know you want to cum. So just do it baby, cum for me.” You did not need to be told twice because suddenly your legs were clamped shut, and your body was arching so far off the bed that your wrists felt like they might break against the handcuffs. He kissed your neck as you came down, whispering sweet little praises in your ear. “That was so hot.” You smiled weakly as he looked at you from above.

“Please let me touch you,” You whined as you struggled against the handcuffs, desperate to get your hands on him.

“God, yes, be my guest,” He laughed as he went to undo your handcuffs, kissing your wrists as he pulled them away. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about how these might hurt.”

“It was worth it,” You smirked as you grabbed his face, pulling him down to kiss you and then immediately pushing him onto his back.

You mimicked his style from earlier, starting with the lips and moving down the neck before making your way slowly towards the waistband of his shorts. You unzipped his shorts as his hands went to your hair, making a makeshift ponytail. You both worked together to shimmy off his bottoms until you were face to face with him.

Immediately, you took him into your hand and marveled at the size of him and the way he instantly moaned and threw his hand back as you started to pump him. Needing more of those noises, you wasted no time in licking up his length and taking him into your mouth. He helped you set a pace by guiding your head with his hand in your hair, profanities falling out of his mouth. “You take my cock so good, baby. Your pretty fucking lips...driving me fucking crazy…”

He started shallowly pumping into your mouth before pulling out just when you felt like you were starting to get good. “You’re fucking amazing princess, but unless you don’t want me to fuck you we’re gonna have to try that again some other time.”

You moved your way back up his body, this time fully straddling him. “I’m an angel, not a princess.”

Smirking yet again, he grabbed your hips and grinded you against the length of him, “Sorry, but last time I checked angels don’t spend a lot of time taking dick in their mouths.”

“Well in that case I can just head out if you want me too-”

He flipped you over again before you could finish your teasing, “You’re not going anywhere.” And then his lips were back on you and his hands were everywhere all at once, guiding your legs to take their place at the side of his waist. Before long he was lining himself up at your entrance, teasing you against your clit, before he finally plunged into you hard and fast. You were still so worked out from his previous work that you didn’t need time to adjust, instead just able to focus on the feeling of him filling you completely. Before long you had your legs stretched over his shoulders, giving him even better access inside of you, making you scream his name over and over again as you felt yourself start to clench and flutter.

“Your pussy is so fucking amazing, Y/N. So wet and tight for me. God you take it so good,” His eyes were screwed shut as he was trying so hard to focus on making you finish before he lost it. “Such a good girl for me, sucking my dick and fucking me like that. Oh, fuck.”

He leaned back, holding your legs in front of him, and started pounding you even harder. You grabbed a hold of the sheets next to you and screamed so hard your voice cracked in your throat as you came for the second time. You barely noticed him finishing after you, too far gone in your own bliss. When your soul came back to your body he was falling onto the mattress beside you and wrapping you up in his arms, both of you still panting.

His hands found your hair as you rested your cheek against his chest, his heartbeat hard and loud in your ears. He lent down to kiss the crown of your head and he sighed against it. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit is right,” You laughed as you rested your chin on his chest so you could look at him, “Well that was fun.”

“I don’t think fun really begins to describe it. I’d go with life changing.”

“Life changing? Wow, I’m honored. I think we should write Bigfoot a thank you letter for making this happen.”

JJ scoffed, “Pssh that guy? No thank you. No one gets to call my girl a slut and get a damn thank you note out of it. I don’t care how good the sex is after.”

You smile slightly and your voice softens, “Your girl?”

He looks down at you with a smile mirroring yours, his one little dimple making your stomach do backflips and his fingers tracing shapes on your back, “I mean yeah, I guess beating around the bush is a lost cause at this point. Is that ok with you?”

You laid your head back on his chest, reveling in the gentle way his fingertips were barely touching you, “That’s more than ok.”

Trying not to seem overeager he cleared his throat, “Cool.”

Laughing to yourself you responded, “Yeah. Cool.”

Unable to help himself he scooped you up in his arms tighter and pulled you even closer, his head resting in your neck trying to hide his smile. Your fingers danced along his scalp and you smiled to yourself. Yeah, you could get used to this.

#jj x reader #jj imagine #jj outer banks #jj fanfiction #jj smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #rafemaybank wrote this

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