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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

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light of my life, fire of my loins. be a good baby, do what i want.

summary: requested: Andy Barber gives me such strong sugar daddy vibes I haven’t watched the show but he just looks like the kinda guy who would spoil the shit outta someone

warnings: smut everywhere. and you know, sugar daddy shit, so. also, doesn’t make a lot of sense. I have a lot more that I actually wrote, I just wasn’t sure where I was going with this. so...prompt sugar andy daddy if you want more???

word count: around 10,400

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: anon! I want you to know that I started working on this as soon as you requested it! I just wanted to make sure I really got sugar daddy andy down and that it wasn’t steve rogers that I was writing. I am so sorry bc you definitely deserved this a very long time ago! if there are any typos, I apologize, I just needed to get this posted before work.

When you met Andy, you had been juggling three jobs, gaining more debt than you would probably ever be able to pull off even with a degree, fairly sucky grades caused by how much you worked, resulting in stress, anxiety, all that great shit that comes along with being someone in America that dares to want to pursue higher education.

After a few months dating Andy, you had one job that you only kept for autonomy reasons, shrinking debt, excellent grades, and truly, no stress at all. Instead of spending a night waiting tables at the restaurant near the campus, where disgusting men would flirt with you because you were on the clock and literally could not leave, you were in a tiny ass dress, covered in diamonds, drinking champagne, and trying not to be too obvious about the cum dripping down your thighs.

Obscene was often a word that you played with in your mind whenever you were with Andy. Your outfits were indecent because he loved seeing as much of your skin as he possibly could. Your behavior was shameless, you showed up, you laughed, you hung onto him the entire night with the smuggest of smiles. Your willingness, especially in public, was vulgar, the way you let him touch you in front of everyone. Salacious. Indecorous. Immoral. Debauched.

These parties that he took you to were only half of it. According to his son, Jacob, Andy hadn’t been one for socializing before the divorce. He claimed that this was something new his father picked up, something that he theorized was the consequence of loneliness. You figured that you also fell under that category. These people weren’t actually his friends and you weren’t actually his girlfriend.

Andy wanted a distraction and you were just fucked up and high-maintenance enough to be perfect for the job. Getting into the swing of things had been quite the task at the start, much to your surprise. Who didn’t want a gorgeous man to spoil them? Apparently you, if your earlier behavior was any indication.

You had started this with wanting to be as professional as possible. When you had pictured how this would look, it was you listening to him speak whenever he wanted, you would respond when prompted but it would be short, succinct, and your main concern would be maintaining your physical attractiveness. You tried to think of him as your employer, you were his employee, and that meant that there needed to be respect and boundaries. You pictured a lot of pretending. Pretending to laugh, pretending to care, pretending to enjoy his company, pretending to come.

You had also thought you were going to smart. This wasn’t some stupid Lifetime movie and you had dreams and goals and if you played your cards right, this man could put you on a sure path to reaching all you had ever hoped to accomplish. At least, that was what you were telling yourself when you’d had the mental quandary: were you a prostitute?

Thankfully, both phases of resistance had been dropped—possibly around the first time he went down on you. You were no expert, but “professional” probably barred him from fucking you in about 90% of his chosen locations. And whether you were a “prostitute”, an “escort”, a “hooker”, or whatever other demeaning word anyone could come up with, was another unimportant matter. Anyone could call you anything, at the end of the day, you had money.

It was supposed to be clean, a black and white exchange where you showed up and he paid you. At any point, you could step on the brakes, he could step on the brakes—something you had once found relief in, but was now a source of insecurity, not that you would ever tell him that. He didn’t need to know about your life, what you wanted to do after school, who your friends were, your shaky relationship with your parents, the reasons why someone like you wanted to enter this relationship.

But he asked about those things because rules seemed to either not exist to him, or they just weren’t meaningful. And you hadn’t felt pressured to answer or anything, if that was the case, you would have just lied. The fact of the matter was that eventually you told him these things because you didn’t mind him knowing about your life.

He was not supposed to be kind or smart or interesting. He was not supposed to be a good guy. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo. There should be an official organization that lets men know you can’t just be perfect and spoil someone if you look anything like Andrew Barber.

It was the middle of April in Massachusetts and that meant it was still just a little too chilly for the slinky slip Andy had picked out for you, but that was what all the champagne was for. You were buzzing and it wasn’t just that you were getting drunk. Summer was approaching and he often spoke about all of the things he wanted to do with you now that you had more free time and he gave you these looks and you could just get lost in his eyes and plans even though you knew better.

You had been doing this long enough that people had finally stopped staring. The first few times Andy brought you, they were blatant and downright rude, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. Despite the disproportionate wealth shared amongst this group, it wasn’t too often that someone brought along a much younger woman that they were undoubtedly paying. Most of these men were married and either brought their wives along or tales of their affairs.

The rich people here treated this like an elite group, so when people like you were around, not everyone was welcoming. The other few women that had similar situations to yours were kind enough and tried to get to know you better—shared experiences create great friendships, right? Andy didn’t think so, he discouraged any type of communication and claimed that it was because they didn’t tend to stick around long. You theorized he just didn’t want you spending time with anyone that wasn’t him.

The woman across from Andy, Francesca, had been around for as long as you could remember. She had long, dark brown hair, flawless eyebrows, a great jawline, and an even greater ass. She was a few years older than him and several older than you.

You often pondered just how much more interesting than you she was. See, she had never hidden that she was attracted to him, but Andy seemed oblivious. You couldn’t tell if he actually was or was just pretending not to notice. You told yourself it was deeper than just the age, that there was another, much different reason that he wasn’t interested in her.

But, of course, you couldn’t ask. You couldn’t talk to him about other women because that was teetering on the edge of possessiveness and jealousy. Those were two of the few luxuries that you would be denied. Romance would not be found here, just a lot of mutual lust and understanding.

She laughed at something he said, pulling you back into the moment. As you sipped on your champagne, you returned to your favorite activity at these parties: people watching. You were starting to pick up on some of the drama and whatever blanks were left at the end of the nights, Andy usually filled them for you.

There were certain types of men that always bred the most scandalous scenarios. Those are the same few men that had only just recently stopped trying to buy you away from Andy by offering you more money than he was paying you. Yes, technically, that was what you were here for, but Andy was not like these men.

For starters, most everyone in attendance was a lawyer. They followed the model of: the worse the job was, the better the pay. Unlike them, Andy didn’t represent sleazy, rich rapists or murderers. That was just the start of the differences. He didn’t get so drunk that he caused a scene at these parties, he didn’t touch drugs, and he wasn’t going through some tragic midlife crisis that he was trying to placate with cars or women.

When you looked back at the pair, Andy was texting and Francesca was eyeing your hand around the glass were sipping from. She was looking at your rings—oh, your rings. You loved your rings.

Originally, you’d thought you weren’t going to ask for or accept anything stupid. You just needed your bills paid, your rent, your car. You wanted to be able to eat more than once a day. Andy quickly realized that you wouldn’t ask, if he wanted you to have something, he was just going to have to give it to you.

(On your very first date, he’d given you a diamond bracelet. You had been stunned, maybe even a little uncomfortable. It was hard to accept such expensive items from strangers. However, you did like it and wore it almost every day even though it made no sense with most of your outfits. You’d simply grown fond of it because it had come from him.)

(On the fourth date, he gave you a three-strand diamond necklace that strongly resembled a collar. You adored it, not the way you adored your rings, but it still gave you butterflies whenever he would clasp it around your neck and then kiss the skin directly under it. These were things that he’d called gifts, but you recognized them for what they actually were, signs of ownership.)

The first ring had been a reward. You’d made it through midterms, so he took you to the jewelry shop that’s on the way back to your apartment from his house. After three hours and a lot of wine—you’d needed to be drunk the first few times you knew he was spending money on you—you left with the tiara ring for your pinky finger. It was a loud piece of intricate curls on top of and underneath a row of tiny hearts. This ring was the most special, the first, you rarely ever took it off—only for school.

The second had been an apology. He’d convinced you to spend the night at his house even though he knew you really didn’t want to. He had kissed your neck and your face and had two of his fingers inside you, he had whispered all the things he still wanted to do to you that night. Around two in the morning, you’d gone to get water from the kitchen. You were in a pair of panties and one of Andy’s shirts that you didn’t bother to button up. That was how you were dressed when you met his son for the first time. Two days later, you had the butterfly ring in its spot at the base of your index finger. It was gaudy and expensive but did little to quell your anger and humiliation. You loved it, nonetheless.

The third had been an anniversary present. This relationship had reached its 100-day mark, he took you to his favorite restaurant, the same one he had taken you to for your first date. Which wasn’t romantic at all, there were a lot of terms being discussed. This time had been much different. He asked you for your hand and slipped the ring onto your third finger without a word, he merely eyed the only empty finger with the unstated promise that that finger would soon have one as well. It was this huge oval cut diamond that covered the width of your finger, atop two bands of smaller but still fairly large identically cut diamonds.

A little less than three weeks after that, it had been…well, you still weren’t quite sure what the fourth ring was. It wasn’t often that Andy didn’t drive you. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you had only one class so he would drop you off and pick you up during his lunch break so you could get coffee together. On Wednesdays and Fridays, you had more than one class so he would drop you off and he would pick you up when he got off work.

One Wednesday morning, your first class had been canceled so you ended up driving yourself. Andy took Wednesdays and Fridays as his early days off because he didn’t want you waiting in the library too long after your final class let out, so those had become the simple nights when he would come over to your apartment even though he really didn’t like it there—you figured he was struggling with the urge to buy you a much bigger apartment, one that would probably coincidentally be closer to his house as well.

You had made the plan to cook dinner that night so before heading home, you drove to the grocery store… Fortunately, no one was hurt. Unfortunately, at your place just in front of the stoplight, a car in the turn lane drove right into your car. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal considering your life of absolute privilege and you just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Andy wasn’t quite as level-headed. The other driver was a middle-aged man so Andy felt no reluctance in throwing a fit. You had been torn between being humiliated that he was fussing so much over you, flattered that he cared, angry that he was treating you like you were a fragile vase, or maybe just a little turned on because he was so angry.

That night, instead of your place, he took you to his house and spoiled the hell out of you. He undressed you and kissed you everywhere, he bundled you up in one of his sweaters and a throw blanket, sat you down on the bed, and made you hot chocolate. You were not allowed to lift a single finger. That was the first night you spent at his house, and since Jacob wasn’t there, Andy didn’t hesitate to fuck you for hours and make you scream as loudly as he wanted you to.

The next morning, when you woke up, the black velvet box was set on the pillow between you and him. He was propped up on the headboard with his laptop and the clock on his bedside table was saying that it was well past noon. Clearly, he decided to stay home from work and if there wasn’t jewelry in front of you, you would have given him a lecture.

It was a princess cut diamond—which he would later explain with ‘you are my princess’—with a double halo and a diamond-encrusted band. It was smaller than all the rest but somehow just went perfectly.

You weren’t bragging, at least not in a petty way. It was just that any time you noticed someone staring at your hand, you couldn’t help but try to draw more attention to it, or the other jewelry Andy showered you in.

You supposed that maybe that meant something, maybe during your little back and forth a few hours prior when he had accused you of being spoiled, he was onto something. Regardless, the only person who could be blamed for that was him.

You almost got lost in the diamonds on your hand when Andy reached out to you, pulling some hair over your shoulder. You looked up at him, he was smiling softly. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you ready to go?”

He really didn’t like these parties; he was always the one that wanted to leave and would slyly place the blame on you. You were tired, you weren’t feeling well, you had a tough week and you just wanted to go home. You never minded because it wasn’t as if you got anything out of these parties either, and if that was the easiest way to pull him out of there, so be it. It was Sunday anyway, he had to work tomorrow and you had to go over your weekly schedule with him before the night was over.

“Sure.”

It started as a quiet drive, just like it always did, but then he placed his hand on your thigh. You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. He simply smirked and kept his gaze on the road. You opened your legs wide, guiding two of his fingers inside you. “Can you feel your cum in me?”

“Not enough.”

“You’re the one that made me stand for almost an hour.”

“I’ll fill you up again before you go to class tomorrow.”

You snorted. “Lucky me.”

He shot you a look. “Oh, you don’t like it?”

“Never said that.”

“Well, if you don’t, I don’t need to—”

“I was kidding,” you whined.

He gave you a look, pretending he was unconvinced. “You’ve had an attitude all night.”

“You spanked me,” you reminded. The memory, the sore feeling on your ass whenever you sat down, had kept you wet all night. “Hard.”

“You talked back.”

You had because you wanted him to spank you. The first time he had, it was quite the discovery. It was after a drink, after you were feeling a little daring. He told you no, and you really hated when he did that. You couldn’t even remember what you had said, but it was bad, it was enough to get your skirt torn down, you bent over his knee, and well, the rest was a blissful blur.

This time it was because he was in a mood. You were getting dressed and he was watching you and that always meant something. You weren’t sure what exactly, but there were a few things you picked up on with Andy. When he wanted to be in control, he didn’t necessarily just want you to submit completely. When he gave you a look, you knew that he wanted you to fight just a bit. So, he told you to wear a specific dress and you refused initially. Cue the spanking. After your whole body felt hot and flushed and your legs were shaking and your cunt was dripping, you obliged, and he was so damn smug about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, because my fingers are inside you and you want me to make you come.”

“Well…yes.”

He laughed and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved the sound of it. Andy so rarely laughed but you took it to mean that he felt comfortable enough around you. “If you can be patient, I’ll fuck you when we get home.”

Home. His home. Whatever. “And if I can’t?”

“Then you’re going to have to wait until the morning and I might not feel like letting you come. Deal?”

You nodded. “Deal.”

But he didn’t play fair. He drove slower than usual, fingers still buried inside you, and he moved them. A lot. He tried to cover it with stupid things, like driving over a pothole or making a sharp turn. If you moved your hips once, just barely, you lost. So, you sat there, completely still, gripping the seat like it was a lifeline.

Upstairs, you waited for him to make the rounds. Jacob wasn’t there, thankfully, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been there earlier. Andy went around every door and window and made sure they were locked.

In that time, you got undressed and waited for him. You had a couple of red marks across your ass that you could see in the mirror on the opposite end of the bedroom. He always liked seeing your skin marked up in some way if he was the reason.

When he entered the room, you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “Stand up.”

You quickly did so, turning your back to him so he could see your ass. His palms lightly felt along the marked skin there. “It doesn’t hurt.”

He rarely asked, but you found that he fucked you better when he knew for sure. You just started letting him know and it seemed he trusted you enough to voice any boundaries you had if he ever crossed them.

One hand slowly trailed up your spine and slid across to your shoulder. He pressed you down quickly and you caught yourself on the mattress with both hands. You could hardly stay still as you heard his belt and zipper.

He easily pushed into you, body flush against yours. He let you adjust around him, staying perfectly still as he leaned over you and kissed your back, neck, and shoulders. Andy didn’t move until you angled your hips and pressed back a little more, whimpering nonsense.

This was so unlike the two times earlier. In the closet, after he spanked you, he sat you on top of his lap and made you ride him. At the party, in the bathroom, he stood you in front of the mirror and gently fucked you until he had filled you with his cum. This was fast, rough, and maybe a little detached if you really thought about it.

Andy took your waist in both hands and held you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly. Slapping skin, your soaking wet pussy, the bed banging against the wall on his particularly hard thrusts, these had become noises you were more than used to, noises you had grown to crave. Being with Andy was never supposed to be like this, but you didn’t have a single complaint.

You buried your face in the blankets, hands clutching tight at the sheets around you as your muffled screams filled the room. You knew he was close when his hands began to wander. One carded through your hair and pressed you down more, the other moved under you to reach your clit.

“You were such a good girl in the car.”

Your response was unintelligible, but yes. You had been more than just good. You had waited for him even though he was being a tease, and now, you wanted what he owed you. Which he didn’t deny you, not for a second.

He made you come. Once. Twice. Maybe three times. But after that, it was all just nonsense, satisfying, endless nonsense. He was still holding you by the hair, but he’d turned your head so you could breathe, and he was still circling his fingers around your clit.

Your back arched, allowing him in deeper—one of the tells of your approaching orgasm. You felt your pussy tighten around his fingers and began begging him to let you come. Even in this hazy, fucked-out state, you wanted to please him, you wanted his praise and approval.

He gave you permission like he always did and fully intended to fuck you through it. He only paused because he felt you spilling down his thighs, felt the wet sheets against his skin, heard light drops on the hardwood floor. Fuck.

He pulled you against him immediately, your sweat-slicked back to his chest. One arm draped across your chest, the opposite hand wrapped around your neck. You were watching him, eyes clear with curiosity. “You just squirted, princess.”

You blinked and attempted to voice your confusion. Problem was, his hips were still moving. You had no time to recover and there was no chance your brain had at making sense of anything in that moment.

“It was fucking hot and you’re going to do it again.”

Needless to say, you skipped classes the next day.

Andy liked to celebrate the monthly anniversaries.

He was big on creating traditions, you assumed that was just that part of him that had been hardwired to crave a normal family. He hadn’t told you much about his life and you didn’t want to pry—his dad wasn’t around and his mom had been but she died when he was pretty young. He shared this only after he asked about your parents.

The most personal he had ever gotten with you was one night when he had intended to take advantage of your drunk and thoroughly fucked state, obviously convinced that you wouldn’t remember the question in the morning. Do you believe in love?

It was weird given the setting and that you and Andy simply didn’t talk like that. It was dangerous because this could never be more than it was. You were both only allowed feelings of lust, maybe even obsession, but nothing of the usual sense. And Andy was so strict and controlled, you were surprised he would cross any sort of line.

You tried to play it off, tried to tell him that you had more important things to worry about. He didn’t like that response. He pressed because he was just like that, his career was all about pressing and sometimes, he brought it home. You ended up telling him that you viewed marriage as a waste of time. Your parents divorced, all your aunts and uncles, even the younger friends who got married out of high school were on the fast track to messy court dates and vicious custody battles. You also pointed out his situation. If someone as perfect as him couldn’t stay married, no one could.

It was then that he told you the happiest moments of his life were carving pumpkins or decorating the Christmas tree with Jacob. He had loved Valentine’s Day with Laurie, he was the one that had always insisted on doing something. He even looked forward to the smaller holidays, Independence Day, Memorial Day, any day that got Jacob out of school and him an extra day off so they could have a cookout in the backyard.

It wasn’t his intent, but it had sort of created a barrier between you two. You wished he still had his family even if that meant never meeting him. He was that kind of man, a good man, and you could tell that it weighed on him every day that he no longer had his perfect family.

He’d never pictured his life like this, a failed marriage, a child separated between his parents. He never would have entertained the idea of needing someone like you. He didn’t say that last part, but you knew. Sometimes, it was just in the way he looked at you. You feared he would grow to resent you one day, but you always tried to push that thought far away.

Regardless, the distance was there and he realized it even if he didn’t say it. There was also the matter that school had just let out meaning you had zero excuses for saying no to him when he proposed the trip to New York that would coincide with the 7-month mark of your relationship.

You’d never been and you’d always wanted to see Moulin Rouge on Broadway. He’d decided to drive to New York because you had once made the mistake of telling him you hated airports. It was a short road trip, one you weren’t entirely unwelcoming of. Especially not when he kept his hand on your thigh most of the time. It was late when you made it to the hotel and surprisingly, he had no issues with you diving straight into bed.

The morning was quite different. The hotel window had a perfect view of the city and he felt inclined to fuck you against it as soon as you both woke up. Then, he wanted to take you shopping. For nearly two entire days, he spoiled the hell out of you. Anywhere you wanted to go, he would take you. Anything you glanced at, he wanted to buy it for you.

On the night of the show, he finally took you to Victoria’s Secret. You’d seen pictures of it before, but you had not anticipated how beautiful it would look in person. You went crazy, you took him to the fitting room and tortured him on every single floor with both clothing and lingerie. Several hours had been devoted to teasing him and he let you know that after the show, you would regret your decisions.

Before you managed to get him back to the hotel so you could get ready, he needed to spend another awful amount of money on you. There was a jewelry shop just down the street from Victoria’s Secret and he couldn’t let you leave the state—as he claimed when he saw you frown—without at least one diamond.

You wanted nothing, but you knew the chances of him allowing that were nonexistent. So, you told yourself to keep it small, but one thing that had become a harsh reality since you met Andy: you were a sad, pathetic victim to larger, shinier diamonds. You immediately fell in love with a short string of sizable heart-shaped diamonds, the one larger heart dangling in the center is what had caught your eye.

Regardless of this terrible habit you had developed—this feeling that you craved, the pure joy that you got from people knowing that Andy was buying you diamonds—you tried to protest when he caught you staring. You just wanted a bracelet, really. He rarely ever gave you bracelets.

Instead, he sent you off to get coffee. You knew exactly why that was. He often got rid of you when he was about to make decisions that he knew would make you feel bad. You wanted to refuse, but what was better? Blissful ignorance or sitting there just watching him toss out the money for that necklace?

Learning what Andy liked at Starbucks had been a process. He didn’t like his coffee sweet so that eliminated 90% of the menu. His home coffee was some brand you’d never even heard of, the shops he went to were all nearly older than him. He liked cappuccinos with extra espresso, but he preferred the straightforward coffee he would get anywhere else, so he claimed. However, you knew he liked pumpkin spice lattes. You planned to prove it the day they released them for the year.

When he came out, the bag in his hand was much larger than one that would be used for just a necklace. He smiled at the horrified look you shot him and claimed that he was given a great deal for the entire set.

While you were getting ready for the show, you realized that this was the most normal you had felt with Andy in a while. There had been tension that neither of you wanted to address, but this trip was making you realize just how stupid that tension was. One day, this was going to end. It was impractical to think an arrangement like this was going to have a long shelf-life.

Shouldn’t you just enjoy it? Being here with him was fun. You liked the city and all the noise and bustle. You also liked being with him away from home and the lives you two had created long before you met one another. This was just you two, isolated together. Normally, you couldn’t ask that of him. He had his job and he was a father and you understood that completely, but you liked this.

During the show, Andy whispered to you several times. He couldn’t wait to be fucking you. He couldn’t wait to taste you. He couldn’t wait to hear you scream and cry and beg. He placed your hand over his lap just so you could feel how hard he was.

Back at the hotel, and maybe it was because of all that he had said, you didn’t want to tease. Almost immediately, you stripped completely naked—fuck all of that expensive lingerie, apparently.

He finally gave you your diamonds. He started with the necklace and you couldn’t even be upset. It fit you so well, you loved seeing it against your skin, you loved seeing how he looked at you while you were wearing it. Then, he gave you the matching bracelet. You had said you wanted a bracelet, right? You couldn’t complain. The earrings, you told yourself, were fine because you didn’t have a pair of diamond earrings yet.

You felt weighed down by these diamonds but not in a bad way. You felt tied to him, owned like you were one of his prized possessions. It was temporary, you reasoned, so was there any real harm in that? He watched you climb off the bed he had ordered you on mere minutes ago, arching an eyebrow as you lowered to your knees before him.

Andy rarely had the patience to let you go down on him, despite loving the feeling. Mostly, his main source of pleasure came from the things he could make you feel. He also couldn’t understand what you got out of letting him fuck your mouth. You weren’t much of a fan before Andy, you could admit since you had a total of zero pleasant experiences, but you felt that this was your only way of spoiling him.

It was nonnegotiable tonight, you would throw a fit if needed. You looked up at him for a moment, almost asking for permission. But not quite, maybe more for compliance. His promise was made by unzipping his pants for you and then letting his hands fall to his sides.

You took him out of his pants and opened your mouth. Staring up at him again, you took as much of him as you could. He was fine until he felt you gag, then his jaw set and his hands became fists.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Moaning around him, you slowly pulled back. One of his hands disappeared in your hair before you could get too far. He had to keep you there for a moment, attempting to calm himself down because he could tell how much you wanted this.

He brought his hand forward, touching your cheekbone. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He slipped his fingers under your jaw and thrust his hips forward gently. He didn’t go too deep and it was at a torturous pace that he pulled out. This man’s control was one of the sexiest things about him. It made him seem so powerful and stable and that was what you craved more than anything in this world.

“Touch yourself,” he directed.

Your hand dove down, two fingers instantly burying inside your pussy. You moaned loudly around him and he cursed again.

“You want me to fuck your face?”

You nodded as well as you could.

He nodded, taking another deep breath. His hold under your face tightened just a bit, thumb and fingers pressing into your jaw. He didn’t thrust, instead, he moved you with his hand. Each time he brought you down on him, he made sure to choke you a little because he knew you liked it.

By the time he was close, your jaw was sore, made worse by his tight hold, your ribs hurt from how hard you had been gagging, the back of your throat was testament that he had lost it a couple of times, and went a bit harder than he meant to. Your entire hand was wet, your thighs shaking and your hips still rolling.

He told you to come with him, told you he wasn’t going to until you did. You pressed the heel of your palm down on your clit and fucked your hand harder. Andy brought you down as far as your throat would allow and held you there, moaning as you attempted to swallow around him.

His hand slid down to your neck and he began to squeeze when he knew you were close, hips moving fast and sloppy. You placed one hand on his thigh to keep yourself balanced, turning your gaze up to him once more.

You felt him start to spill down your throat. He moved harder, hips jerking and cock slamming into the back of your throat each time. The cum that was in your mouth was now beginning to slip out from the sides of your lips.

He pulled out before he was done, one hand in your hair to angle your head back, his other hand stroking his cock as his cum leaked out along your jaw and neck. “God damn, you are fucking gorgeous.”

You stared at him as the tip of your tongue came out to the corner of your mouth where you felt some of his cum.

Immediately, he pulled you onto your feet and shoved you back onto the bed. He was on top of you instantly, using his fingers to collect his cum off your skin so he could feed it to you. As you laid there, licking his fingers, he brought his opposite hand down to your pussy.

“I love feeling your cunt after you’ve just finished.” He teased you several times, just dipping the tips of his fingers in before he pushed two inside you.

You whimpered, lips closed around his fingers. Once he pulled them out, your mouth was free to speak, which was rarely ever a good thing when you two were in bed. “Well, are you going to get inside me, or did you need a minute?”

He arched an eyebrow—it didn’t bother him when you joked about his age, but he pretended it was grounds for true punishment. “Maybe I need several minutes, I guess I just have to keep you coming until then, huh?”

You hummed in protest.

He brought his hand up to grab your jaw, wet fingers pressing tightly into your skin. His lips hovered over yours as he asked, “You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

He scoffed. “You’re shameless. I don’t know how you got this bad.”

But he did know, and he would do whatever he possibly could to ensure that you would just get worse. Andy’s success was measured by your bratty episodes. It showed how comfortable you had become with him but also just how much you wanted him.

For the record, you weren’t accusing Andy of being some evil mastermind who had planned this whole…ordeal. That would be insane because it would imply a lot of things that you knew were simply not true about him. He wasn’t a bad person, he was actually one of the best that you had ever met.

But…he was a lawyer. He had picked up some bad habits that came along with that. That meant, that though he didn’t plan this, he was enjoying it thoroughly. In short, you were accusing him of being an opportunist.

The first time you met Andy, he had brought Jacob to that hellhole of a restaurant you used to work at. So, technically Jacob knew you, but he was on his phone the entire time and they were low-maintenance customers, so he’d maybe seen you for a total of 5 minutes over their 2-hour stay. Andy did come back and bring Jacob several times, but it was always the same. He never paid you any mind, and why would he?

So, when you “met” him, half-naked and covered in bruises and bites—something that still made you glare at Andy if you thought about it too much—Jacob already knew you. He just didn’t know you. And after that one encounter, you couldn’t imagine what he thought of you.

This made you realize just how worried you were about how temporary you knew you were. Andy hadn’t said anything so you wondered if Jacob just didn’t tell Laurie. You wondered if she would even care if he had told her. Maybe Andy did this all the time, maybe she just couldn’t be bothered because they weren’t married anymore. You had no idea because Andy rarely spoke to you about Jacob and never spoke about Laurie.

Your grand solution was just trying to avoid Jacob at all costs. Mostly, you were successful, and Andy didn’t seem to mind, per se, but he did not encourage it. He loved his son and he didn’t want part of his life to be completely unknown to Jacob, but you kind of did.

It was one terrible morning when you were a bit hungover from the night before and Andy was making breakfast. He’d just set down a plate of pancakes in front of you, kissed you on top of the head because you were letting him baby you, when Jacob came in, so you didn’t even have an excuse to leave. It would be pathetically clear what you were doing. Were you seriously scared of a 17-year-old boy?

Yes. But you could pretend you weren’t, and you would pretend. There was no other choice. It wasn’t until you were all sitting down for the world’s most awkward breakfast that Andy’s phone rang. He often got calls in the morning and you never minded. Until then.

You shot him a threatening look that he clearly didn’t take seriously. He excused himself and with each step further away, your desire to suddenly die increased.

There was more painfully awkward silence and you wracked your brain for ways to fix it. You could ask him about school, his plans for the day. But that was the easy part. How were you going to word the question casually, unforced? You didn’t have to think on that much longer because he decided to speak first.

“Is my dad your, like, sugar daddy?”

And before you were subjected to having to respond, his friends showed up. Which was great because you couldn’t have formed a response if your life depended on it. But that shock had well worn off by the time Andy returned. He was throwing out apologies and explaining that he was being given an update on one of his cases. He seemed unaware of your silence until he realized Jacob was gone.

“Where’s Jake?”

“He left with his friends.”

“Oh.” He sat down at the table and you glared. “Come on, I didn’t know he was going to be here—”

“He just asked me if you’re my sugar daddy!”

“Well, I am.”

“You are not.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Then what am I? I pay your bills, I buy you things, in return, you spend most of your free time with me. What does that make me?”

You were mad but not about the idea that he was your sugar daddy. Of course, you’d played with that phrase a few times, but it seemed so unrepresentative of your relationship. At least, to you. He clearly saw it that way, and maybe you weren’t even mad about that.

You might not have been mad at all, maybe just scared. You knew that Andy was in love with his ex-wife still and he always would be. She was this terrifying person that you’d never met that essentially held the cards to your life. You figured that if she expressed any anger towards Andy’s relationship with you, that you would be gone. You would have to go back to your life before, like when the carriage was a pumpkin. And the scariest part of that was not that you had no money. It was that you two would just be done as if you never even happened at all.

“Your boyfriend?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he warned.

“I’m going home.”

“No, you’re not.”

Once more, you rolled your eyes. You pushed away from the table and stormed out of the kitchen and to his bedroom.

He came in moments later after you had thrown his shirt on the bed. You were in nothing more than a pair of panties as you searched for where he’d tossed your clothes the night before. He shut the door and locked it, but you refused to respond to his tactics to make you talk.

“Get on the bed.”

You scoffed incredulously, turning over your shoulder to him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

His hand wrapped around one of your arms and he spun you back to him. You set your hands on his chest to push him away, but he pulled you in so tight that you couldn’t move. He kissed you like it had been years since he last did so, in reality, it had been a little over an hour. It was demanding and fast, he left you no room to protest, but it wasn’t like that mattered because with each passing second, you were giving in.

His free hand slid down between your legs and you broke the kiss to moan. Your head fell back, your body pressed closer to him. It wasn’t a surrender exactly, just a promise that you would get over it and never bring it up again.

But then he said, “Call me daddy.”

You froze, turning your head back to him. “What?”

“Call me daddy,” he repeated. “You want to come? Tell daddy how to make you come.”

It was just a matter of time before it was brought up. Unbeknownst to him, it was on your mind. Unbeknownst to you, it was on his. He hadn’t been the kind for it, then he met you. There was something primal inside him that was triggered when you would whimper and whine, when you were choking on his cock and staring up at him with your beautiful eyes, when you were crying his name. And sometimes, it didn’t completely sound unlike daddy. When you were breathless and fucked good, and nearly mindless. Sometimes, it was close enough that it made him wonder what it would be like.

And you’d been curious too. Ever since he spanked you the first time. You saw Andy as this powerful, good man. He was perfect and didn’t even know it. But all of that was what everyone could see. There were these dark parts of him that made you wet just thinking about. You would never tell him, but once, just one time, he was busy and couldn’t see you one weekend. Meaning you had to take care of yourself. Your dreams were vivid and filthy, and you might have called him daddy in one…so, yeah.

“I’m not going to touch you if you can’t follow orders, princess.”

It took you a moment to find your voice, especially with the way he was looking down at you. “I…don’t know…” It felt weird, like you were admitting this terrible secret. You were aware he had asked you to, but it still felt wrong. Kind of.

“Well,” his fingers slid over you again, a teasing touch that was too light for any real relief, “do you want daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded.

“What about daddy’s cock?”

“Yes.”

“Or maybe daddy’s mouth?” He kissed your forehead first, then your cheek, and finally all over your neck. “Hmm?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want.”

“You know what I want,” he pointed out, pulling back to look at you. “Tell me what you want first.”

He was not letting you out of this and did you actually want him to? Andy was a complete daddy. He spoiled the hell out of, almost literally got off on taking care of you, and he was a kind, beautiful man who had no problems fucking you like he hated you.

“Will you eat my pussy, Daddy?”

Wordlessly, he sat you down on the bed and pushed you onto your back by your shoulders. His eyes on yours, he took you with his mouth over your panties and any doubts you had about this just faded away.

Your breath was shaking as he held you down, his hands gripping your arms tight. You draped your legs over his shoulders and pulled him closer. He pressed his tongue flat against you each time he licked up your aching cunt. “Oh, god,” you blurted out when you felt him at your clit.

He turned his head, nipping at your thigh. It was a prompt.

“Daddy,” you breathed, and he returned his mouth to you. “Daddy, please.”

He hummed. What are you asking for?

“Please, take them off,” you begged.

His fingers slipped under the band of your underwear and he tore them into pieces, without any skill whatsoever, as his tongue sought out bare skin. You’d heard several tears by the time his tongue was inside you.

You arched your back and grabbed a hold of his hair with both hands. He almost instantly took your hands and held them down to the bed again. “Daddy, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please make me come.”

He pulled your clit between his lips and you knew that you weren’t going to last much longer. You knew this was your biggest loss so far. He was never going to let you forget that you’d come up here throwing a fit, trying to push him away, only to beg him to eat you out.

Your hips rolled against his face, he seemed surprised for a moment, but he moaned against you, so you kept doing it. “Can I come, Daddy? Please?”

He hummed again, a confirmation.

When you moved instead of waiting for him, you could feel his beard. That was the only reason you kept canting your hips up to meet the swipes of his tongue that were toeing the line of being too good.

He let his tongue drop down to tease your entrance, earning a frustrated whine from you. Your clit wasn’t neglected for long, you felt the tip of his nose hovering just right there. So, if you were to move, if you bucked your hips just right, you discovered quickly just how to get the right kind of pressure there.

Andy loved every second of it, he loved the smell of you and the taste of you, and he knew he was never going to be a better position to indulge in both. You were wild even though he was pinning you down, you were hardly ever this desperate, this upfront with your desire. It was the sexiest thing he ever witnessed.

You finished on his tongue and he let no drop of you go to waste. He was selfish in the way he ran his mouth along the oversensitive parts of you. Before reality had even made its way back to you, he’d placed you on your knees before him. Your body was moving without your brain, like pure instinct. Your mouth opened for him before you even knew you were on the floor and you took him in as deep as you could.

He took a handful of your hair and held you in place, hips slowly, gently moving back and forth. You were gagging around him but he was letting you get used to it, telling you that you were such a good girl, reminding you how well you knew how to suck his cock, how you’d always been so good at it.

He didn’t want to come in your mouth, he just wanted to get close. He threw you down on the bed just as soon as he’d gotten you back on your feet and then he was on top of you. His hand wrapped around your neck as he slotted his hips between your thighs.

His eyes locked on yours, he slowly sunk into you. It was damn near painful the kind of restraint he was using, how he was denying you that fast kind of fucking he knew you loved. He pulled back, using his knees for balance, and kept his hold on your throat.

His thrusts were too gentle, several agonizing times, until you were squirming and whimpering. He didn’t seem concerned with what you wanted then, he merely kept his eyes moving over your body.

“Andy,” you complained.

He tsked. “Baby girl.”

“Daddy,” you corrected instantly. “Daddy, please. I need you to fuck me.”

Instead, he leaned back down and kissed you. He started at your mouth and then moved to your jaw. His hips barely moved, just enough to keep you on this edge of murderous rage. Seriously? After what you just went through? He wasn’t going to fuck you to make it up to you?

He sat back again and tightened his hand when you opened your mouth. It was the nicest way he was ever going to tell you to shut up, but he was telling you to. You were too scared to show any signs of disobedience at this point.

He pulled out and you whined unintelligibly. You received nothing more than a brief ‘hush’ before he was laying down next to you. He was on his side, propping one of your legs over his hip as he slid back into you. He lifted you up so you could lay your head on his bicep and used that arm to grab your opposite thigh, pulling it out to the side so you were completely open for him.

“Daddy,” you mewled. You couldn’t keep doing this, you needed to come. You needed him to make you come. He dragged his cock out and then shoved back in, earning a strangled yelp from you. You brought both hands up to hold the forearm that was still pressed between your breasts.

It was then that he started this horrible pattern of fucking you hard, hard, until you were just about to come. You would be shaking, begging like you never had before, promising you would never talk back to him again, and then he would just stop.

He never denied your orgasm. If anything, he just threatened to, didn’t follow through, then made weak threats that he would next time. It was a nice routine and you weren’t sure why he wanted to ruin it.

He told you to leave your thigh where it was and then brought that hand up. He started at your mouth, he ordered you to close your lips around his fingers. He was choking you still and now gagging you and you were abruptly lightheaded. He’d never given you a safe word, you were sure he never intended to go too far. The idea that he might, though… Ugh.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and they were soaking wet because he didn’t give you the chance to swallow. He dragged them down your body, stopping to pinch one of your nipples painfully until you gasped, and then down to your pussy.

Tears filled your eyes immediately as he pressed his fingers down on your clit. He kissed the side of your face several times before stating, “I can’t keep giving you what you want if you’re going to be such a brat, baby.”

“I’m not being a brat,” you protested.

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he scoffed. His fingers began to rub circles into you.

You shot him a desperate look. “Daddy, please I need you to make me come.”

He arched an eyebrow, hips still but hand moving. “Oh, you need me to?”

“No one else makes me come like you do.” It was clear that you were just saying anything you could think to make him give in. True? Yes. But were the words sincere? Not at all, and you didn’t want him to know that. Yes, you liked spending time with Andy, you even loved fucking him, but this was not a relationship. It was an arrangement first and you had to protect yourself.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Transparent.”

You let your head fall back into the pillow with an exaggerated sigh. “Please?”

“No.”

You looked at him instantly, eyebrows pulling together. “What?”

“No,” he repeated slowly.

He’d never just told you no. Maybe in a roundabout way, he’d talked his way through the fact of no, but never once had he just out and said it. You had no idea how to reply. After all, he was in charge here. If he said no, did you have to accept it?

He brought his fingers down to where your bodies were connected and pulled out completely. He dipped his fingers into you at the same time he was easing his cock back in.

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself to relax. He was always a tight fit, even without the addition of two of his thick fingers, even on those weeks when he fucked you every day, numerous times a day.

“You’re okay,” he promised. “You can take it.”

You tried spreading your legs even more, hoping that would make him easier to take.

“Good girl.” He pulled his cock and fingers out briefly before working them both back in simultaneously. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“It hurts a little.”

“But you can take it, can’t you?” He kissed along your cheekbone. “You want it, right? Because you’re my good girl.”

You were nodding before you even truly thought about it. You wanted anything he wanted to give you, in reality. You supposed this was not the exception to that rule.

He continued pulling out and teasing back in, going just a little deeper each time.

Your cunt was aching by the time you propped yourself up on your elbows to see. The sight of him inside you was sinful and delicious.

He felt you flutter around him and kissed the side of your face again. “You like when I stretch you out, baby?”

You nodded. That was exactly how you felt. Stretched. It still hurt but not in any kind of way that you didn’t like. Your cheeks were flushed since he’d been denying you a finish, otherwise, you would be blushing terribly. It was a toe-in-the-water of humiliation, you felt a little objectified, or reduced to a single body part. Again, not something you were opposed to because your mind was fucked up enough that your body would respond ecstatically to anything Andy wanted to do to it.

“Do you want another one?”

You weren’t sure, but that didn’t stop you from claiming you did. You watched the tip of his third finger collect the slick on the base of his cock and slide into you. He began pulling out and gently pushing both fingers and cock back in until he was buried several inches and two knuckles into your pussy.

“You are soaked, baby.”

Part of you hated that. How bratty could you be from here on out if you were this wet for him? If your cunt was literally begging him for more of his fingers? That was the pride part of you. The sick part of you stopped to think about how he had 7 more fingers to fuck you with, if he wanted. “Can I have another?”

He smirked. “I think 3 is enough tonight, princess. I don’t want to hurt you too much.”

“I want all your fingers inside me, daddy.”

He scoffed. “Not sure that’s possible, you’re still so tight. But I do have a little more I can give you.” As he pressed more of his fingers in, beyond that second knuckle which made you gasp and squirm because it burned, he also gave you more of his cock.

You were shaking, hand settling on his forearm once more. “Oh, daddy…I feel so full.”

“And your desperate cunt still wants more?”

“Anything from you, daddy. Can I please come?”

He didn’t answer, his hips merely began moving. He roughly fucked into you as he pulled just so with his fingers to keep you painfully stretched.

You were getting close again. That stinging sensation was starting to fade away with the building pleasure. When he angled his hand and let his thumb massage your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “Daddy, please.”

“You can’t come.”

You whined. “Daddy!”

“I said no.”

You pressed your hand to his stomach to still his hips, but he paid you no mind. “Daddy, I’m going to come.”

“You better not,” he warned, but didn’t do anything to help you want that. If anything, his hips snapped a bit harder.

“Please stop, daddy,” you begged, voice pathetically small and whiny. You didn’t care how you sounded or looked, you just didn’t want to come without him letting you. You didn’t want to disappoint him. “Daddy, I’m close. Please stop.”

He scoffed, free hand coming up to your face. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

You frantically shook your head. You weren’t so good that you wouldn’t come, so really, you needed him to stop.

“You don’t want to come without my permission?”

“No, daddy.”

He pressed his thumb down harder and rubbed faster, earning an unintelligible, sad sound from you. “It’s okay, baby girl, you can come. Daddy wants to feel you coming around his cock.”

You lifted your hand back up to his arm, trying to turn into his body as much as you could. He understood immediately and moved his hold from your neck to drape his arm across you, resting his hand on your back. You set your head in the bend of his neck as you started to come.

He groaned when he felt you get tighter. “That’s it, baby. That’s what I wanna feel.”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time you were coming. Your body had never felt relief so strong. Andy shushed you through it all and told you that you were so good and didn’t stop until he had you filled with his cum.

He let you settle before urging you onto your back. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” You were more than just okay. You were sated and aching, you were exhausted and blissful. It had been a while since he’d spent so much time on you and you felt good, doted on, paid attention to.

He carefully pulled his fingers from your cunt, eyeing your face as he did, but then quickly took your jaw in one hand and shoved the fingers into your mouth. You instantly began sucking on them. “A few things. First, you do not roll your eyes at me. Second, you do not leave the table unless I tell you that you can. Third, do not ever walk away from me. Fourth, when I tell you to get your ass on the bed, you better get your ass on the bed. Are we clear?”

You nodded, speaking around his fingers.

“Glad to hear it.” He slowly extracted his fingers, massaging your jaw with the opposite hand. “When you can walk again, I’ll take you shopping—”

You hurriedly jumped out of bed, rushing for the shower. “I’ll be ready in an hour!”

requests to be tagged:

@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

#andy barber x reader #but we all KNOW he's the best sd in existence right????#let's rate evans characters by how good they'd be as sd's! talk to me in my inbox about it let's go!#love you thank you for reading okay bye #my writing

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angrylittletrashpanda · 3 years

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Jude x the Ghost headcanons

Here are headcanons for my stupid-ass fic (wip).

1. Mutual reluctance - Jude thinks he’s a haughty jerk, who aways has problems with everything she does and takes pleasure in criticizing her. The Ghost thinks she searches praise for everything she does.

2. Jude never grew to trust him (=Oak’s would-be murderer). So, when Nicasia told her someone whom she trusted had betrayed her, the Ghost is beyond suspicions. Paradoxically.

3. Locke, wanting to see Cardan’s grief (he is also possessive and wants Cardan for himself, so tires to show the King how deceitful women, especially mortals,are) orders the Ghost to seduce Jude. He is not very happy about it, since perceives Jude as disgusting (bitten nails, different body type than female fairies’ etc).

4.The Ghost feels self-disgust, when discovers he’s attracted to Jude:

a/sense of guilt - he realizes Jude does not deserves being sth like Locke’s toy/ wants to respect her chastity;

b/Jude’s just a filthy mortal, he’s too good to lust after such a moose;

c/He is mad at Jude for being such a ‘provocateur’, because it is easier than admitting that she could be appealing.

5. Both of them are not the best people ever.

6. The Ghost finds Jude not especially tallented, yet extremly hardworking and self-determined.

7. Grows to understand why Jude ‘searches praise’ when he sees how Jude is poisioning herself. He starts to develop feelings for her: concern, pity, something like admiration.

8. Feels unworthy of her. Although he has human ancestors, he realizes he lost all traces of humanity he had ever had.

9. When the Ghost starts to show Jude kindness, she grows to feel safe with him (although she still does not trust him at all), He is, in fact,the only supportive person she has. And can calm her down.

10. When Jude realizes the Ghost’s attractive for her, she thinks she has found a ‘cure’ for Cardan (fight fire with fire etc).

11. And yet she feels ashamed she is so shameless.

12. Jude is disgusted by the fact that the Ghost, older than Cardan, might have had numerous lovers.

13. She’s a little mad at herself for liking the Ghost too much (his tenderness vs. blind loyalty to Dain)

14. The Ghost tells Jude he loves her literally a few hours before he gives her up to Queen Orlagh’s people.

More #trash available on my ao3.

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curtsycream · 4 years

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The Village - Sarah Cameron

This is kinda said mostly because it deals with acceptable and being denied that. So this is more of a sad but fluffy Sarah imagine that is choppy but I’ll fix it later. I hope you enjoy and if you want to request an imagine check out my pinned post. It kind of turns into a platonic big brother Topper x sister reader imagine at some parts.

Y/N knew she was different when it came to the norms of the kook side of outer banks. At the age of seven she was wrestling her older brother and his friends. While he didn't mind and cheered her on when she would make Rafe tap out. Her mother didn't like that her daughter wasn't in touch with her feminine side.

Mrs. Thornton was always rubbed the wrong way when it came to her daughter showing a more masculine side. Y/N was never one to dress up in pretty clothes and throw tea parties with stuffed animals. She would rather follow her brother around and get dirty just for fun.

“Can I tell you a secret?” A twelve year old Y/N asked her older brother.

“Sure why not?” The thirteen year old responded while looking up from his homework.

The two siblings sat in Topper’s room doing homework for school. As the two sat in silence for a while Y/N finally spoke up revealing the secret she held for months.

“I think I like girls.”

“Oh,” was all Topper could say while fidgeting with his pencil. He didn’t see an issue with it since he also liked girls and thought it was normal. But when he finally looked back up he saw the tears in his sister’s e/c eyes.

“Do you think that’s bad?” She whispered.

“No, I like girls too so if anyone has a problem with you just tell your big brother.”

Puffing his chest out Topper smiles when his sister giggles at him. Pulling her close to him the two embrace holding one another tightly. “No matter who you like, you’ll always be my sister.”

When she turned fourteen she wanted to cut her hair since the length didn't make her feel like herself. Her mother didn't approve but she did it anyway smiling at her short hair in the mirror. The haircut made her proud as that haircut was the start of her journey of self identification.

Her mother was not happy that she cut her hair reprimanding the young girl. Thinking it would be best to explain to her daughter what she always did, that girls are supposed to be prim and proper. Just to brush off Y/N’s protests to remind her that it was a phase she would one day outgrow.

But that day never came, holding her girlfriend close to her chest Y/N sighs. It was one of those rare days where her parents were out and no one could stop her from being herself. She learned that the best way to be herself in the Thornton household was to hide all the things that made you different. While her brother hid his excessive drinking and drug use. Y/N hid her sexuality from her parents which meant hiding her girlfriend.

Sarah Cameron.

Sarah was in a similar situation one where her parents thought she was dating Topper instead of Y/N. Which the two girls used as their cover up story thanks to her brother agreeing with the cover up. Having to hide who they were made them think that there was something wrong with them. As if what they were doing was a sin that needed to be corrected.

“Do you think that our parents are right?”

The question was asked by Sarah while they were drunk and dancing at a party. Her lips close to Y/N’s ear as she whispered out the question. Taking a step back Y/N grabs ahold of Sarah’s hand before leading her to a quieter area of the party.

Holding Sarah’s face between her hands she presses a kiss to her nose. That lead Sarah to release a small giggle, “We love which is one of the purest things a person can do. Loving someone should never be wrong no matter what gender the person you love is. Our parents grew up in an day and age where people like us wouldn’t have a chance. Where loving who you want came at a cost and people would mock and try to hurt you for it. Now we live in a time where things changed slightly and can possibly be corrected. So no our parents aren’t right they just don’t understand yet.”

“But when will they get it? When will they understand that they’re hurting us? I hate having to hide just because my parents think what I’m doing is wrong. I’m supposed to be this example of what a kook should be yet I can’t even live the way I want to.”

Pulling Sarah close she runs her fingers through the blonde’s hair. “They may never understand that’s the thing even if we try to explain it to them. But there is no room for explaining especially when your family has status and a position in society to maintain. Which does hurt but guess what?”

“What?”

“No matter how much they hurt us we still have each other because there is nothing wrong with the way we love.”

Not even a week had passed before rumors went around about Sarah Cameron and Y/N Thornton. How they were brainwashed by media to think that loving the same sex was okay. It was as if the adults had no remorse or humanity when it came to love. They still wanted to write it off as an experimental phase that was wrong.

“Do you know how disappointing this is, I have people walking around talking about how my daughter likes girls. Do you not understand how much that affects this family. I thought we talked about this first you wanted to rough house with your brother then cut your hair. Now you want to kiss girls and act as if what you’re doing is normal. I’ve had it Y/N M/N Thornton, you better break up with that girl and start looking for a boyfriend.”

The harsh words she received from her mother left her in tears. Her phone gripped between her fingers as she repeated the words in her head. She had noticed the stares when she walked around and how adults would shake their heads. As if she was disgusting and had the devil leaning against her shoulder. It made her feel sick to think people would judge her and think she needed to be fixed.

Later that night she laid in bed with Sarah the two cuddled up together. Holding on to one another for dear life as if the other was their only life source. The two girls didn’t notice when the door first began to open. They were too late to see Mrs.Thornton standing in the door frame with a face red with anger. “Get out! I want you out of my house, tainting my daughter!”

It didn’t end well with Sarah being kicked out and her mother forcing her to break up with Sarah. Which Y/N found hard to do so Mrs. Thornton did it for her. While she begged her mom not to do it her mother’s mind was already made up.

“Why can’t you just be happy for me? Sarah makes me happy what does my gender have anything to do with the love in my heart?”

“You don’t understand love what you had was nothing but sinful lust. A woman should be with a man that’s the way the world works. I knew I should have sent you to Iverly maybe then you wouldn’t have sinned. Why don’t you follow your brother’s example, he’s straight why don’t you be like him.”

Her mother’s shouting drew the attention of Topper who had just come into the house. Confused about what was going on he walks into the living room to find his mother and sister arguing.

“What’s going on?”

“She kicked Sarah out and tried to make me break up with her. Now she’s telling me who I love isn’t who I should love. You can’t force me to love men you can’t that’s not who my heart wants me to end up with.”

Pulling his sister into his side he nods his head, “No matter what you do Y/N will always be Y/N. Who she is shouldn’t change because the norm is that women should love men. You can’t force someone to change when change isn’t something they’re capable of.”

After Topper had defended Y/N their mother left the room. Only to bring the topic up again at dinner to which her father supported his wife. Y/N was not allowed out of the house for a few weeks and had to take sessions at Iverly a correctional institution. It was her family’s way of showing her that she was wrong when they knew nothing of love themselves.

As for Sarah she hadn’t heard from her in a while as the two weren’t allowed near each other. But that didn’t stop Sarah from calling Y/N late at night or sneaking in through her window. While their parents believed they could keep the two apart. Sarah and Y/N would find ways to outsmart them which only made their love stronger.

Y/N was surprised to see her older brother walk into her room a few nights later. Almost immediately Topper pulls his sister in for a hug holding her close. Y/N could no longer hold the tears in crying out into her brother’s polo shirt. While her parents never agreed with Y/N when it came to her life choices. Topper always took her side even if it meant his parents would question him as well.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s true there’s something wrong in the village. But regardless of that I still love you for who you are, you’ll always be my sister.”

#outer banks #imagine #reader insert #fluff #angst #sarah cameron imagine #sarah cameron x reader #Spotify

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thatoneitaliangirl · 4 years

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Obey Me! Soulmate AU Asmodeus

Asmodeus’s chapter was the whole reason I even started this whole series. I had the idea for his in my head and was like, “I can’t write one and not the others.” lol. Of course, it took me forever to get this part out because of personal reasons, but in the end, I think it came out pretty good! I hope you guys like this part and I look forward to hearing your responses!~ And just as a reminder, these are all going to be multiple parts each, so if it seems like it left off at a cliff hanger, it did lol. Also, there's a song mentioned in here called Sandra Dee, and its a song from the musical Grease. You don’t have to know the song or the tune since its just a little thing, but if you want to hear it, please check it out! Its a fun song to bop too lol.

Opening Paragraph

Asmodeus was fine with how his life was going. Party all the time, all the men and women he could want; there wasn't a thing he was missing. But even so, he was probably the most eager of his siblings to find their soulmates. He could only imagine what they would be like!

Stunningly beautiful, very well experienced, willing to do . . . All sorts of naughty things. His mouth was practically salivating at the twisted little fantasies going through his head. And even though he doesn't think he's very capable of love, he doesn't care!

I mean, the one night stands are fine and all, but who was he to complain if he were to come home from a night of partying to a nice piece of ass willing to grant him his second wind. Well, this is Asmo we're talking about, so more like his eighth wind. But all the money, sex, drugs, and nightclubs in the Devildom could not have prepared him for this . . .

Taking the glittering key from his 'older' brother, Asmodeus smiles and places the key into the hole . . . Only to imagine a school setting. Unlike where they had found their adorable exchange student, this school was smaller in size, with only one building.

Entering through the door, Asmodeus smirks. Of course, his s/o would be prowling around a college campus! This is where most sex and partying goes on in the human world. "Maybe they're a lab rat!" Levi says, lolol-ing afterward. "Or like some smart know-it-all like Satan!" Mammon joins. Clearly, the two think they're funny.

"And what does that matter to you? I always wanted a sexy scientist." The brothers blush and try to rephrase themselves. Imagine that! They thought they could fluster Asmo? How long have they been brothers? Even back in the Celestial Realm, their comments were never able to bother him.

And a few millennia of being a hoe, you learn to ignore others' opinions of you. It's not as if he's ashamed of it; he's the Avatar of Lust for fuck's sake! It's just that, deep down, he has those little insecurities. The ones that tell him he's not worthy of love.

That his reputation makes him disgusting, unappealing, and dirty. He's been able to push those way down into the depths of the Devildom, but all this has made them resurface. A little bit.

"I wonder what they're wearing? Maybe a little cleavage? Oh, I hope so!~" As the brothers follow Asmo through the school, they all have the feeling things aren't going to go the way Asmo thinks they are. Lucifer especially isn't too confidant there's a human or being out there that could satisfy the pure lust Asmo has.

Though it's not shown often, these sins are like a curse to the brothers. Similar to Beel not being able to stop the hunger, Asmo can't stop the lust. And despite all the shit they give Mammon, they know he can't stop the greed. Though for some of them, they've been able to push it down and control it, a few of them physically can't survive without their sin.

Again, Beel is a perfect example. This poor human is going to have to spend their life attempting to satisfy every need of Asmo's. "I think a left here . . . Oh! This door feels right!~" With dramatic flair, Asmodeus opens the door.

Hello! Welcome to the Wetbord College Art room! How can we help you?" A girl with long blond hair and sparkling eyes greets the boys. One look at her and Asmo can tell that she's not the one. Not that she's not attractive. Any normal day, he would have her charmed, naked, and on his bed in a matter of seconds. With nimble fingers, Asmo lifts the girl's hand into his and kisses the top.

"Hello, darling. We're looking for a girl, about your age," She giggles and smirks. "If that's how you pick up girls, then I'd hate to see your track record. Though, with a little more smooth talk, you may have my attention."

Asmo smirks, hiding his irritation. As if he would ever have to try. If he really wanted to, he could have her begging for him to fuck her while he held her by that pretty blond hair of hers, but this is not the time, nor place. "Actually, I'm serious. Her name is _____, I believe." Her smirk drops as Asmo lets go of her hand, and she pouts.

"Fine, if you really want to know where she is, she'll be here in a few minutes." A blue-haired girl wearing a pair of sorts and a paint-covered apron joins the conversation and puts in her two cents. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you want to see _____?" Asmodeus smiles and puts a hand on his hip.

"If you really want to know, darling, I'm going to fulfill her every sexual desire tonight. Wanna join?~" His eyes glow with anticipation. Obviously, these girls have the hots for him; who wouldn't? He's absolutely gorgeous and- His smile turns to a frown as the two girls begin to laugh loudly. One even has tears falling from her eyes as the other clutches her stomach.

"Sexual desires? Oh my God, I think I'm gonna pee myself!" The blond one says, hand resting on the blue-haired girl's shoulder. "And why is that such a joke to you? I'm sure she has a reputation." He says with certainty, though he doesn't actually know. He's just assuming based on his own preferences. Was that wrong?

Again, the girls begin laughing, this time whipping the tears from their eyes as they look at the seven brothers, all of whom are confused. "Let's just say, there's a reason everyone around town calls her Sandra Dee." They snicker at the nickname as Asmo raises an eyebrow.

"Who?" The blond one flairs out her skirt and dramatically batts her eyelashes before she begins to sing. "Look at me, I'm Sandra Dee-" Blue puts a hand on her hip and leans on blondy. "Lousy with virginity!~" Blondy holds out her left hand and wiggles her ring finger.

"Won't go to bed till I'm legally wed- I can't! I'm Sandra Dee!~" The two begin laughing again, much to Asmodeus' displeasure. Seriously, they sound like a band of cackling hyenas! "Are you guys making fun of me . . . ?" A meek and soft voice from beside them asks, the figure clutching a sketchbook.

"Oh, please, _____! Don't act as if we're bullying you." "Yeah," Blue buts in. "It's just a cute nickname." _____, face hidden behind her hair, turns around and walks out as the girls giggle to themselves. "Well, it bothers me . . ." Belphegor hears her whisper. It seems he's the only one to hear her since he's the closest to the door.

"Aren't you going to go after her?" Belphie asks Asmo, but stops short when he sees the look on his face . . . He seems shocked for the most part. His eyes are cast downward and his mouth is open just a few centimeters, with his eyebrows furrowed together. The world seems to sway around him as he tries to come to terms with what just happened.

What kind of sick joke was their father playing on them? All his brothers so far had wonderful soulmates with personalities that seemed to fit them perfectly. So then why did Asmodeus have to suffer like this? He's the former Jewel of the Heavens! Doesn't he deserve the best? "Asmodeus?" Lucifer puts a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. "I think it's best if I go home for now . . ."

#obey me! x reader #obey me! asmodeus x reader #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! lucifer #obey me! mammon #obey me! leviathan #obey me! satan #obey me! beelzebub #obey me! belphegor #soulmate au #soulmate #obey me! soulmate au #obey me! soulmate

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magnolia-penn · 4 years

Text

Future Vision Chapter 2

DIO? God?

Oop- sorry this took so long. It took me forever to write and I had no motivation to type it all from my notebook.

Also, brownie points to whoever finds the Avatar: The Last Airbender reference.

Warnings: Swearing (so much swearing), Spoilers (sorta), mention of death (no one important) lemme know if I missed anything

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"31 years!" Polnareff shouted in disbelief.

"Apparently." You shrugged, already over it.

The men were flabbergasted about your current predicament. Stands were a fairly new concept and to think that there was a Stand strong enough to pull you from the future, breaking all sorts of time and space laws? You'd have to be crazy!

Yet… There you were, completely adapted to the strange situation. You were thrown almost double the amount of years you existed and all it took was a quick scream session behind a sand dune for you to calm down?

"You seem so startled. Stands have crazy abilities. My friend, Magnolia, works alongside a mafia boss with the ability to create infinite life and make it so you can never truly reach death!" You pumped your fist in the air in excitement. "Time travel doesn't seem that far out. My Stand isn't too terribly special, especially compared to some of the other Stands I've seen, but it's pretty cool."

The group's confusion settled deeper as you went on a tangent about future Stands that your friend has described from her time working at the Speedwagon Foundation. You used words that didn't make sense, phrases they didn't understand, but your growing excitement caused them to nod along with you.

"OH! And Stands can be upgraded! Although we do-" You cut yourself off suddenly, eyes zoned out.

You didn't say anything, just stared into the endless expanse of sand and heat. It was Kakyoin who spoke up first.

"Y/n? Are you alright?"

You snapped out of your trance with a start. "I FORGOT TO FEED MY FISH SHIT SEND ME BACK!"

Your sudden outburst sent Polnareff jumping back into Mr. Joestar, your attention dragged to him as his face dropped from confusion to somber defeat.

You picked up on the nervous weight shifts and glances away. You tried to look back at the man who brought you here, only for Mr. Joestar to clear his throat, bringing the attention back to him. He fumbled with his words a bit, trying to justify the shift in attention, but he ultimately failed.

"Oh ho no, I see what's going on," You said after Mr. Joestar gave up on trying to explain. "This fuck-" a pointed finger towards the corpse behind you, "was my only ticket back to the future?"

"Well no. Technic-" You cut the older man off.

"'Uh well no'," you mocked. "Lemme guess, he would've been the easiest way?"

"Now, Miss Y/n, there is no need to be so aggressive. I'm sure we can figure everything out. Our enemy, DIO, has a lackey-"

You cut Avdol off as well.

"DIO? God? In Italian? What kind of narcissist names their kid 'God' in Italian?"

You gave a snort before falling into a fit of mocking laughter. Your humor was short lived, though, as Jotaro finally spoke up. Or shouted I guess.

"Can you shut up? Good grief, all you do is yap! God, all you women are the same."

You stopped your laughter to stare at the teen clad in black, sizing him up. It was a tense couple of minutes, an unstoppable force and an unmovable object locked in a stubborn standoff.

After a bit, you let out a chuckle and let your head fall back to face the sky. You watched the clouds for a second before sighing.

"You know, Joots," You catch him visibly tense from the nickname. "I see why you become a marine biologist in the future. The ocean is powerful and terrifying. It's been like that from the beginning. My friend often describes me like the ocean, although, unlike the tides, who have decided to kill you millions of years ago," You bring your hand up near your face before clenching it into a fist, shimmering from the effects of your Stand. "I still haven't made up my mind."

Jotaro's face turns sour in fear for a split second before returning to the default steely glare. You watched in amusement as his Stand began to manifest, but the hesitation you saw in the purple being's eyes told you all you needed to know.

Jotaro was, at the very least, cautious of you.

But also curious.

You managed to make full contact with Hierophant Green, something no one can do unless a Stand is initiating the contact. Kakyoin also couldn't see you, so how could it've climbed up you? Stand don't act on their own violations.

You also mentioned the future Jotaro. He becomes a marine biologist? And one famous enough to be known by teenagers? Jotaro can't even name a famous marine biologist.

He figured killing you know would be disastrous, there was still much to learn from you. Maybe you held knowledge that once came with hindsight.

"Nice to see we're in agreement." Jotaro gruffed out, allowing Star Platinum to fully dissipate.

A small smile graced your features as you extended the same hand you threatened him with.

"Well then, a truce. Until we decide to kill each other."

Jotaro nodded and took your hand, allowing a handshake to secure your mortalities.

For now.

"MON DIEU! I THOUGHT SHE WAS DEAD!" Polnareff wailed suddenly, startling the group.

Tension rolled off all of you as Avdol let out a sigh of relief. "I am quite surprised you are alive as well. Not many people can insult Jotaro and walk away intact, Y/n."

You chuckled and waved off the man's concern. "I may only have six brain cells, but I'm not stupid. He wouldn't do shit. Not without knowing what I can do."

"Is that so?" Jotaro let a small smirk slip out. It's hard not to grin when you were acting stupid.

You nodded and hummed in agreement. "I like to think I'm good at reading people."

Jotaro only scoffed and rolled his eyes, although there was an inset glimmer of amusement deep with those cerulean orbs.

"So what exactly does your Stand do?" Mr. Joestar asked the elephant in the room.

"Hmm? Oh, my Stand. Okay, so, here's the thing. My Stand is actually really weak." You confessed.

"My Stand, Chemical Romance, is only really good for getting info from people. I'm often called in to the Speedwagon Foundation to help with interrogations. My Stand allows me to talk to and understand other Stands. All those unintelligible noises your Stand makes are actually your soul trying to communicate, and Chem translates them for me. Even silent Stands or Stands with no humanoid form." You glanced at Mr. Joestar. "I can also touch and interact with them, like I did for Hierophant Green. Also, and we think this might just be a radius effect, but Stands become more sentient around me. They think for themselves."

And….. just like that you lost them. It's hard to understand such complex Stands when all they know is Many Punch, Tasteful Nudes, French Sword, Fire Bird, and Shiny Rock.

"So… You can't actually follow through with your previous threats?" Kakyoin asked cautiously.

"Excuse you! Just who in the hell do you think you are? I am a whole ass person shaped can of whoop ass and no weak ass Stand or Death Parade wannabe looking ass is going to beat me!" You pumped your fist in the air again.

"Whew- That's the sort of can-do attitude our team needs." Mr. Joestar chuckled. "Wait, that wouldn't be a bad idea!"

"Oh ho? Does the great Joseph Joestar have an idea? Careful, Old Man, thinking can hurt ya." You joked.

"No no no no no hear me out. You need to get back to the future, we need to stop DIO from murdering everybody and taking over the world." Mr. Joestar explained. "We both have to get to Cairo for DIO! Join us! You and your Stand are really useful!"

Surprise crossed your face before slipping back to its usual cool façade.

"Nah, I was kind of digging the idea of shriveling up dead in the desert. Although~" you drawled. "I guess, if you're so desperate for my help. It would be immoral for me not to help you, you're so old, even thinking about fighting DIO is going to trigger a heart attack."

You snorted out a laugh and Mr. Joestar did chuckle a bit before you realized something.

"Sooo. Who exactly DIO? Other than some bitch who wants to take over the world."

As quickly as a light flicking out of existence, the once humorous and airy atmosphere of the group became tense and tragic. The utter rage, disgust, and hatred for this mysterious man was palpable. Even the fun and boisterous Jean-Pierre Polnareff extruded murderous intent.

"DIO is a very bad man." Avdol broke the silence, but found himself unable to say more.

"Thanks for the life lesson, Dad," you spit sarcastically. "No. Who is he and what might he have done to sound so familiar."

"DIO is a monster that was created by greed and a lust for power. He is a vampire who ruthlessly slaughtered those who took him in when he was orphaned at the age of twelve." Mr. Joestar explained grimly. "He rejected his humanity to become something monstrous and immortal, but even now, that wasn't enough for him."

"He's notorious throughout the Speedwagon Foundation, whose founder fought him a hundred years ago. I wouldn't doubt it if his story still circulated in your years, Y/n." Avdol completed.

"All of us are here now because of DIO. Polnareff and I were under his control because of a flesh bud, Advol was almost conned into the same situation, and Jotaro's mother, Joseph's daughter, is under attack by her own Stand because it was forcibly awoken by him." Kakyoin said, then shot you a soft smile. "And I guess you as well."

"Oh yeah! Eli did mention they were looking for a girl who could strengthen DIO's Stand, so I guess he is why you're here!" Polnareff's smile returned to his face at the prospect of making a new friend who was in the same boat as them.

"Y'know, think back on it, I do vaguely remember my friend mentioning your mom, Joots." That damned nickname again. "Stand Sickness is what we call it now. That might be where I know DIO from." You shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "Anywho, now that that's settled, can we get out of the desert? I'm roasting to death."

"Oh! Of course! We have to get to the next town before nightfall anyways. To the car!" Mr. Joestar cheered.

You all piled into the three rowed vehicle. Jotaro and Polnareff sat in the way back, you and Kakyoin sat in the middle, with Mr. Joestar and Avdol occupying the front.

The road to the next town was filled with fill ins. They explained how they came together and how they defeated their foes that found them at every turn. You spoke of how the world has changed and advanced. You showed them your music and all the apps on your phone. You found that you were still connected to your home wifi at full strength, but you couldn't comment or post anything. All true contact to those in the future was cut off, but you could still consume media.

As the dust and corpse was left behind, you could feel the newly forged bonds between you and the men around you strengthen and grow, becoming more entangled and intertwined. And you felt happy about it.

#Future Vision #chapter 2 bitches!#its finally here #the exposition #my english teacher would be appalled #jojo kakyoin #kakyoin x reader #kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin #tenmei kakyoin

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

Text

La Pomme ~ Chapter Seven

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 11,800

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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Sam, Dean, and Castiel had been stomping around the bunker determinedly for the past hour looking for Jack.

After getting back from being Michael's pack mule the evening prior, Dean had gone to talk to him, but he wasn't in his room. He searched a few other places and when he came up empty, he went to Sam and Cas. When they joined the search and all three came up empty, they began to worry.

"Anything?" Sam asked as Dean and Castiel both returned to the map table room from opposite sides of the bunker.

"Nothing," Castiel admitted with a defeated tone.

"No one's seen him since yesterday. The few people I saw either saw him in his room playing video games or getting food from the kitchen," Dean added, his tone was worried-angry. He couldn't help but mutter in annoyance, "Can't believe you let him get video games."

"So, no one saw him leave?" Sam asked for confirmation, ignoring his grump brother, and the two other men shrugged in hesitant affirmation.

"Alright, well let's regroup. We'll do a quick full sweep together, talk to everyone we see, and look for any sign of him or an explanation," Sam decided. "If that comes up empty-"

"We'll hit the streets. Let's start in his room; if he did leave on his own, maybe he left a note and I missed it." Dean reasoned before the three of them went to search together.

They spent the better part of 15 minutes tearing the room apart and had yet to find anything useful.

"There's nothing here, guys," Sam shook his head frustratedly, setting the mattress back down on the bed.

"Certainly no explanation for where he went," Castiel added dejectedly, closing the dresser drawer he'd been searching through.

"The problem is, there is something here." Dean gestured to the room and said, "all of Jack's stuff. It doesn't even seem like so much as a pair of shoes is missing."

"Haven't found his phone yet," Sam pointed out frustratedly as he tried calling him once more, "not that he's answering it."

As the three stood there watching him call again, the door started to open and they all turned hopefully. When they saw Tim-one of the camp refugees-stick his head in instead of Jack, there was a collective shoulder slump.

Tim was in his late 40s but looked much older. He had a 80s punk style, with torn up, oversized dark pants, a black and white ragdoll band shirt, and huge black boots. Tim completed the look with a short green mohawk attop his head, long ZZ Top, salt-and-pepper beard, a spiked collar and matching spike through his nose.

Dean didn't like him.

"Tim?" Sam acknowledged the man when he spotted the group.

Dean watched Tim's surprised expression closely as he addressed Sam, "Oh, hey, Chief! What's shakin'?" He looked at the other two men and Dean noted a slight sweat begin to form on his forehead. He gulped and asked, "Jack here?"

Sam frowned, "No. Have you seen him?"

Tim seemed nervous, "Uhh, not since yesterday. He let me borrow his headphones," he reached into his pocket and held up the pair of headphones, "so I was just returning them."

"When exactly did you last see him?" Came the gruff follow up from Dean as Sam reached out and took the offered headphones.

"Late last night? He was playing video games with that dumpy, frigid gal."

"'Frigid'?" Castiel questioned. He thought it was an odd choice of descriptor. Sam wasn't pleased with Tim's choice of words either, but for different reasons.

Tim nodded, "Yea, ya know, tall, blonde, cute face but real icy, like she's better than you even though she's got a little too much junk in the trunk."

Dean and Sam shared a disgusted expression before Dean asked, "Full of opinions about her body but don't know her name, huh? Stay classy, Timmy."

"I assume he's referring to George," Sam offered with an annoyed tone.

"There's a woman named George?" Dean wondered.

"She's new, from the camps. She's been... connecting with Jack," Sam explained vaguely to his skeptical brother, though it came out a bit wrong.

Tim shrugged nonplussed, "Never caught her name, but she's always hanging around the kid. A little too much if you ask me," Tim gave them 'the eyes' and Sam narrowed his in disbelief at what the guy was insinuating.

"Wait, so first this girl is frigid and now you're saying she's… what? Lusting after Jack?" Dean asked dubiously.

"She's not a girl, she's our age," Sam corrected and then added, "Also, I doubt she was doing anything inappropriate." He didn't want to say why he doubted it, because it was none of Dean's damn business.

Tim hesitated and then said, "Look, all I know is I came by last night to borrow his headphones and the two of them were on the bed playing video games. They looked awful close to me. And she seemed pissed when I showed up, like I was interrupting something."

Of course Sam was not inclined to believe this story. Based on his own personal experiences with her, he was almost positive it wasn't Jack she was interested in. That was even more true if she was the woman he'd dreamt about so long ago. Which she obviously wasn't considering she was from an alternate reality. And she was real, whereas the dream, of course, hadn't been. So, it made no sense and he hadn't really allowed himself to entertain those thoughts since he first thought about it.

And, to be fair, he had been very wrong about women in the past.

"Interrupting what, exactly?" Sam demanded to know.

"I don't know, Chief. But when I left, I heard her asking him if he was 'ready to go'," His eyes were wide for emphasis and there was a creepy smirk on his face.

"Go where?" Castiel asked quickly, missing the innuendo. Tim just bounced his eyebrows in response and the three men frowned and shared curious expressions. Sam's expression was more doubtful than the others.

After a long pause Dean asked dubiously, "Jack doesn't even know how to do that… right?" None of them knew, and there was an awkwardly long silence before they realized Tim was giving them all a strange expression.

"Need anything else?" Tim asked, inching away from the doorway, "I'm supposed to meet up with Jules for a hunt."

"Tell Jules you need to sit this one out and don't leave the bunker," Dean demanded. "We might have more questions for you later."

Tim nodded in understanding, starting to back out of the room again, "And just, by the way, she isn't from the camps."

"Sorry?" Sam asked in confusion. "She's not?"

Tim shook his head, "No, sir. As second in command of third-shift security detail, it was my job to know everyone. I'd never seen her until I came here. Figured she was one of yours," with a shrug, he left.

"Alright, well we need to find whoever George is. Now!" Dean started to leave and Sam stopped him.

"Hold on, you believe his story?" He asked with a frown. He realized he barely knew her but… he felt connected to her. Dean and Castiel looked at him for a reason not to and he explained, "Listen, I know her-kind of. I-I've seen her with Jack and there's nothing that-"

"So, maybe Punk Rock Douche is wrong about things being inappropriate, but he says he heard her ask Jack if he was ready to go, and now Jack's not here, so..." Dean shrugged and Sam nodded begrudgingly. He couldn't disagree with that logic, so off they went.

As the three of them searched for George they became increasingly concerned. Just as Tim said, none of the camp refugees knew her, other than to say that they'd seen someone matching her description 'lurking' or 'sneaking' around the bunker after they showed up. They didn't know her name, they all swore she didn't come from Apocalypse World, and they had no idea where she was staying.

Sam became more and more deflated the more people they spoke to. On one hand, he didn't want to believe a word Tim had said about her, because most of them were awful. And in the admittedly limited amount of time he'd spent with her, he found her to be nothing but pleasant. And charming... Adorable. Incredibly kind hearted, but intensely competitive in a way that amused him. Had his instincts about her really been this off? Was she that good at duping him? Or, he worried, was he that good at being duped?

On the other hand, if she really was from this reality and just snuck into their bunker and lied to them about it, why? Certainly dreaming about her made a bit more sense now that she was of his reality, but was that a good thing or a bad thing? A happy coincidence or Gabriel's weird attempt at a long con? Or had the dream been real after all?

Why was he so bad with women?

Jack's phone had been blowing up with calls from Sam for the last two hours, so George figured it was time to return it. He had let her borrow it the night before when she'd mentioned wanting to listen to music. Really, though, she was trying to get in contact with Rowena regarding her trip home. She'd heard hide nor hair of the crazy redheaded witch since she'd left her there weeks ago, promising to find a way to get George home "in no time." She'd been here so long now that she'd DONE LAUNDRY. More than once! And-fun fact-the 70+ year old bunker didn't have an electric dryer! She'd have to remember to add that little factoid to Wikipedia when she got back.

Truthfully, though, being there had been like the world's best vacation from her normal life. Other than missing her friends and inexplicably worrying about the wellbeing of her students, she felt amazing. The meds she typically took to regulate her anxiety and depression had been left back at home but surprisingly she hadn't needed them. Maybe because the situation was so crazy exciting she didn't have time to be anxious or depressed? Whatever the reason, her new environment was strangely comfortable.

However, she knew the longer she was there the more dangerous the situation became. So, when Jack and her started to become friendly, she spotted an opportunity to try and get in contact with Rowena. Using the ruse of wanting to listen to music, he let her borrow the phone and made sure to give her the headphones. Which, she now couldn't find. Considering she had no way to replace them, she was kicking herself for losing them.

She checked the nooks and crannies of her tiny room one more time before giving up. Hoping Jack would take pity on her, she grabbed his phone and headed for his room. As she walked the now familiar path, her attention was on the phone, checking the messages again. She let out a frustrated growl when she saw that there were still no replies.

Texting Rowena once more to let her know that she was giving the phone back to Jack and not to respond, she added, "But DO get back here and get me home. NOW! Please?" before deleting all the texts she'd sent.

As George huffed frustratedly, she turned the phone off and looked up finally. The second her attention wasn't on the phone, all the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she got a sick feeling in her stomach. She was being followed. As she took a sharp turn toward the kitchen, she caught a glimpse of Dean-turned-Michael skulking behind her. Her heart started beating faster, all the blood felt like it drained from her body and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. The thought that this must be what true terror felt like briefly popped into her head. Just as her vision began tunneling, she found the strength to move her wobbly legs and dart into the kitchen.

Unfortunately for her, there had been a small bunker party the night before; beer bottles littered the floor. She just happened to kick right into a small pile, sending three bottles crashing across the room. The echoing clangs made her feel nauseous and dread began spreading through her chest.

Nice and stealthy.

A large cleaver sitting atop a cutting board on the prep table caught her attention. Thinking quickly, she lunged for it and then flung herself back across the room to the entryway. She slammed clumsily against the wall with a clear, obvious thud. The cleaver was clutched against her heaving chest. Doing her best to catch her breath quietly, she tried to listen for his approach. Unfortunately, the loud, obnoxious sound of her own blood rushing was muting her surroundings.

Aftering standing poised and ready for attack for what felt like a crazy long time, George finally-slowly-peaked her head around to check the hallway. From her vantage point she could see very clearly down the left hall and hadn't seen anyone moving since she got there. Her breath was held almost unconsciously as more and more of the right hall came into view. Her grip tightened on the cleaver and she slowly raised it on instinct, but it didn't take her long to see that Dean-Michael wasn't there.

Maybe he passed me while I was panicking? It didn't make much sense to her but she hesitated to put too much thought into it. Every molecule of her body was screaming for her to run back and hide, but she knew she had to find Sam and warn him.

Lowering the cleaver quickly, she shoved her hand in her pocket and ripped out Jack's phone. She'd planned to text Sam a 911. Just happened to turn her head half an inch at the right time when she saw a flash of plaid and scruff flying at her from inside the kitchen behind her. The phone dropped from her hand in surprise and she swiped the cleaver on instinct.

Her reaction was surprisingly effective as the blade connected and sliced the underside of Dean's arm. Unfortunately, it also came too late; he was too close. He grabbed her hand with his good arm and twisted the weapon out of her fingers painfully. Using his grip on her hand, he easily flipped her around, wrapped his-now bleeding-arm around her neck and locked both arms together.

As she struggled against the tight chokehold, she tried to fight the panic that was building. Scratching and clawing as his arm and struggling to breathe, she tried to drop her weight. When he followed her down without loosening his grip, she tried lifting her legs up off the ground in desperation. To her shock, he easily lifted her back upright. Almost without thinking, George kicked her legs out. When they connected with the opposite wall, she pushed with all her might.

Dean stumbled backward. When he made contact with the wall behind him, she felt more than heard a deep, rumbly-perhaps annoyed-groan escape him. Unfortunately, however, his grip around her neck didn't loosen and her vision was starting to tunnel. Digging her nails hard into his arm, she felt him grunt in pain again but there was nothing more she could do. With the lack of oxygen, George's body started going limp as she quickly began passing out.

He finally let go, just before she was totally out, laying her down on the floor. She was vaguely aware of some shuffling noises, a long stretch of silence, and then her limp body was lifted up and tossed over his shoulder like a bag of rice. Mercifully, air was flowing into her lungs again but she couldn't focus on much. He was carrying her through the hallways, at a determined pace, for a while. Turning into a room finally, she was aware of lights being turned on and metal scraping against the floor.

The next thing she knew she was being set down unceremoniously in a chair. It was an ancient, mostly metal chair with an old, worn leather seat. Her head flopped forward limply. As she struggled to regain her senses, Dean used her weakened state to affix her arms and legs to the chair with handcuffs. Then he stuffed a folded bandana into her mouth and tied it around the back of her head.

Suddenly, she felt him sprinkling her with something wet. Slowly lifting her head up, she saw him approaching her with a small, shiny blade. Normally, she'd freak out but she was still recovering from the lack of oxygen. Mercifully, all he did was press the blunt side of the blade against the skin of her arm. When she noticed the curious expression on his face, she realized what he was doing. Assuming the blade was silver, she realized the earlier liquid had probably been holy water.

The stars dancing in George's vision had finally cleared when Sam appeared in the doorway. As he walked in, her eyes went wide and her heart stopped. She started shouting incoherently behind the gag and there was a loud clanking sound as she tried to lift her hands and wave him out. Sam froze, looking at her in concern, then looking at Dean questioningly, then back to her.

The sight of George tied to a chair with a gag in her mouth registered slowly for him. He recognized her sitting there, dressed in a long sleeve black ribbed Henley t-shirt and khaki shorts. It took a moment of looking at her-perhaps distracted again by the bright artwork on the pale skin of her thick thigh-to notice the handcuffs and gag.

He jerked his head angrily toward his brother, "Really, Dean?! I told you to go easy! What the hell is this?!"

George stopped screaming in surprise when she heard Sam call him Dean, "'Ah'ss-eeennnn?!"

Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing over at George, and shrugged indifferently, "She had Jack's phone. And she has a secret hideout in our bunker that we didn't know existed." Sam looked shocked and turned to look at her quickly, then back at Dean when he lifted his arm to show off a bandage and added, "And she attacked me with a cleaver!"

"I-'hawt-ooo-err-'IKE-UHL!"

Sam listened carefully and then gave Dean an exasperated expression, "She thought you were Michael, you idiot. Of course, she attacked you! She probably thought you were going to kill her." Still, Sam hesitated to let her out of the cuffs immediately. He had to be sure.

Just then, Cas walked in with a piece of paper in his hand, "Other than a few clothes and food wrappers, her room was pretty bare. Like, Sam's room but with slightly more warmth. I did find this though. It appears to be a spell of some kind." George raised a confused eyebrow, watching them closely.

"A spell?" Sam was starting to get concerned. He definitely hadn't expected her to be a witch. A witch working with Gabriel would explain the dream situation though, he thought a bit disappointedly. He ignored that for that time being though. If the dream had been real, it wasn't a can of worms he wanted to open just yet.

Cas nodded, "I'm having trouble figuring out what it means, I think it's written in code. From what I can tell, the intended effect is to debilitate something called a 'pull out game?'" There was a muffled groan from behind the gag, as all the color drained from George's face.

"What?" Sam asked, confused. Castiel passed the paper to Sam to inspect.

"Some kind of a sports term?" Dean muttered with a frown, trying to read it over Sam's shoulder. "What's W-A-P?" Another loud groan escaped her lips.

Cas shrugged, "It's hard to follow because the context jumps around. I'm still trying to decipher it. I think it mentions some ingredients: weed-which I believe to be a colloquial reference to the plant cannabis, a king cobra-doesn't specify alive or dead-and something called 'punani Dasani'." As Sam scanned the page his eyes got wider and wider, then he quickly looked away from it.

George was struggling against her bindings even harder now, "Iss 'ought a ss'ell, iss a soo'g!"

Sam set the paper down on the table and walked over to her, taking the gag off. Dean quickly swooped up the paper and started reading.

As soon as her mouth was free, George shouted, "It's not a spell! It-"

"What's a 'Kegel'?" Sam, Cas, and George all turned to look at Dean's confused expression with a concerned look of their own.

Cas answered, "It's a type of exercise for strengthening pelvic muscles." Dean still looked confused. Sam and George looked surprised that Cas knew that and he added, "I assume it's used as part of the ritual for the spell?"

"Oh my god, it's NOT a spell!" George cried, blushing from head to toe.

Cas narrowed his eyes, "If it's not a spell then-"

"It's lyrics!"

"Lyrics?" Sam asked.

"Yes! Lyrics; for a song!" All three of them looked skeptical.

"A song by who, Chris Brown?!" Dean asked doubtfully.

George suddenly looked offended, "What?! No! It was written by women!"

"Written by women?!" Dean's head tilted questioningly and he stuttered, "'Beat it up, catch a charge?' 'Not looking for a fight, but I'm looking for a beating?' 'I want to gag, I want to choke, I-'" Sam rolled his eyes and reached out, snatching the paper away from him.

George struggled against her bindings more, waving her hands in surrender, "Dude, I refuse to sit here and explain or defend consensual rough sex for you…" She paused and looked in deep thought for a moment before muttering, "though I may have written fanfiction about doing that exact thing, actually…"

Dean and Sam shared a strange look and she said quickly, "The point is: that," she indicated toward the paper Dean was trying to annoy Sam into letting him read again, "is just a rap song, by Cardi B. I've had it stuck in my head since I got here but I can't listen to it because it doesn't exist. One night it was driving me nuts, so I finally just started writing out the lyrics hoping it would help somehow. I'm not a witch," She assured, and then looked at Dean, "and I'm not a demon! Or anything that's bothered by silver. I'm not anything! I'm just human!"

"With interesting taste in 'music'," Dean mumbled with some air quotes.

"And by the way, yes, I one hundred percent thought you were Michael! I saw you coming down the hall and nearly had a heart attack. If I'd known it was-" she looked him up and down with a strange mix of appreciation, awe, and terror, "really you… Dean Winchester." She thought for a minute and then shrugged, "Well, I probably still would have hid, but I definitely wouldn't have tried to stab you."

The guys were quiet for a moment before Cas asked them, "What do you think?"

"I believe her," Sam said definitively and George's stomach fluttered nauseatingly. "I know she thought you were Michael. We've been talking about it around here for weeks and you've not been back that long."

"Well, it's still feasible she heard about it…" Dean said but his tone indicated that wasn't what he really thought. "I've still got a lot of questions, but I'm inclined to believe her on these so called 'lyrics' at least," Dean said, begrudgingly, "I mean, what spell have you ever heard of that says 'if he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder'?"

"Christ," George closed her eyes tight. If she weren't so terrified she would laugh. When she opened her eyes again finally, the smirk on Sam's face made her stomach do flip flops, so she closed them again.

"Alright," Dean addressed her again, "So, where's Jack?"

George's eyes flew back open and she frowned, "Jack?" She looked at Sam confused and then asked, "What do you mean 'where' is he?"

Sam was studying her, reading her reaction, before answering, "We can't find him in the bunker. He's gone, but nothing else seems to be missing."

"Except his cell phone, which was missing until I found you," Dean added accusatively, picking Jack's phone up off the table and holding it up. "So, when did you see him last?"

George frowned deeper, a concerned expression on her face, "Yesterday, but not for long." She looked over at Sam and explained, "As he's been getting better at the games, he's been more interested in single player. And seeing as how I'd rather gouge my own eyes out with a melon baller than watch a teenageish boy struggle to play video games that I could beat in my sleep, we've been hanging out less. He usually only comes to see me if he's really stuck or when he wants to talk about something that's bothering him."

Dean's brows furrowed curiously as he wondered who this woman was that seemed to be getting so close to his brother and his kid. "Why did he come to you yesterday?" He asked gruffly.

"I, uh… went to him, to ask if I could borrow his phone and listen to some music. I ended up staying to chat for a minute because he was pissed when I found him."

"Why?" Castiel asked with concern.

George smirked a bit, "Because he couldn't get a good picture of Gyrados in Pokemon Snap?" Dean looked confused and highly annoyed about it; Sam couldn't help but chuckle.

"Is that… another ambiguous song lyric?" Castiel looked confused.

"No, it's just a challenging video game," George explained. "So, hang on, are you sure he's gone-gone? Maybe-"

With a frustrated sigh, Sam nodded and cut her off, "We're sure, unfortunately. Can you just walk us through yesterday, when you saw him?"

George was getting worried; was Jack really in trouble? Was this another Big Bad trying to kill them? Was she going to have to hide in a small space again?! Did she have time to pee first? Where the hell was Rowena? Half of her was ready to go home, now, even if it had to hogtie and yank the other half with it.

After collecting her thoughts for a minute she said, "Sure. It was late evening. I went to his room to ask for the phone and found him chucking a controller at the wall," She and Sam shared a smirk and Dean narrowed his eyes curiously. "We talked about him being pissed at the game and I told him no one can get a picture of that fucking impossible pokemon, so not to beat himself up about it. Then I offered to play something multiplayer with him to get his mind off it. We played for a bit but the zombies were overwhelming him." Sam had to hold back a chuckle at the fact that she didn't seem very sympathetic. "I could tell he was just getting pissed all over, so I pretended I was tired of playing and we turned it off. He didn't feel like talking, so I made an excuse about being tired and told him I'd bring the phone back today."

"Where were you sitting?" Dean asked matter-of-factly and Sam flinched at the question.

"Scusi?" George didn't understand.

"When you were playing together, in Jack's room. Where were you sitting?" He asked again.

She looked at him like he had two heads, "What?! Why does it matter where I was sitt-" Her breath caught in her throat a little when she realized why he might be asking the question. All the blood drained from her face save for the deep, angry flush in her cheeks. She could see Sam fidgeting uncomfortably out of the corner of her eye.

The question offended her deeply and made her feel shame she didn't deserve to feel. She'd been sitting on the floor, per usual, and even so there was nothing going on between her and Jack. She doubted he'd even call her a friend; she'd helped him out with the games and listened when he needed someone to talk to a few times. That was it. Period. But the mere fact that Dean had asked the question had now planted the seed in everyone's mind. Even though she's innocent, and even after they find that out, she feared the question would always be there. She'd never be able to have a normal friendship with Jack, now.

You moron! You aren't going to be staying long enough to have any kind of friendship with any one of them, what. are. you. doing?! Just answer his moronic, misogynistic question and get this over with already.

She took a deep breath and unclenched her jaw to answer him, "I wa-" but then stopped and thought, although, when are you ever going to get the opportunity to put Dean Winchester in his place again?

Then she shook her head emphatically and, hands gesturing noisily, said, "No, ya know what? Fuck that. I honestly don't think it's any of your fucking business what square footage of space my ass was taking up inside of a room you weren't in. And I know for a fact that if I had a penis you would not be asking me this question at all, which is both ergregiously misogynistic and heteronormative. Unfortunately for you, I have a strict rule against answering such questions, sooooo thanks and g'fuck ya'self." She just told Dean Winchester to go fuck himself. She was proud but also felt like she might vomit.

Dean's eyebrows raised high. His expression slowly went from shocked, to pensive, to mildly agreeable. With an amused smirk, he gave a quick nod, "OK, you might have a point. But, I wouldn't be asking the question at all if certain people hadn't expressed concerns about the location of your ass inside the room."

"Dean," Sam was really uncomfortable with this line of questioning; though certainly not as uncomfortable as she deserved to be. He felt sure that Tim's accusations were baseless, but Jack's life could be on the line and there were definitely things she hadn't been honest about. He couldn't let his desire to believe her negatively affect Jack or their ability to find him. Still, he didn't think it was necessary to humiliate her, so he interjected gently, "George, while you were hanging out, did you talk about anything that stood out? What was his mood like?"

George swallowed hard and blinked back the shameful tears, before answering quietly, "We didn't really talk about anything special. Game shit-talk, mostly." Purposefully omitting the fact that she spent most of the time peppering Jack with questions about Sam. It seemed unnecessary to mention it now anyway, since obviously Sam felt she was being inappropriate with Jack.

"Did he say he was going somewhere? Or ask you to take him out again like with Gamestop?" Sam followed up.

George shook her head, "No. The only place he talked about wanting to go was hunting with you all. He wanted to find Dean, of course. But he wasn't worked up, just normal complaining. It wasn't anything new or concerning."

Dean asked gruffly, "Did anyone else see you two together?"

She frowned at him, "What do you mean?"

"Can anyone corroborate that you were with Jack or that you left him, alone? And yes, I would ask that question even if you had a penis," He finished with a smirk.

"Dean," Sam growled, shaking his head in frustration.

George stared daggers at him before swallowing back her snarky reply and smiling politely. At this point, no hogties were necessary; she was ready to go home. She felt mortified and ashamed, so she'd play the game if it meant being done with this. After a moment of thought she said, "Uhm… no, I don't think so. Well, maybe Tim?"

All three men shared an intrigued glance. "Blink-18Tim?" Dean clarified.

George couldn't help a wry chuckle, nodding affirmatively, "After I left Jack's room, he bumped into me in the hall. He didn't see me with Jack but he saw me alone after I left him."

"Did he know you'd come from Jack's room?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know, maybe? After I left I turned the corner, bumped into Tim-dropped the damn phone like a clumsy idiot. He picked it up and handed it back to me and then…" Pausing, she rolled her eyes to the ceiling and let out a begrudging sigh, "Well, lets just say, he wasn't respecting my personal space despite repeated attempts to create distance. So, I didn't stay long enough to explain my comings and goings to him."

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized with another deep frown. He was starting to feel like a massive tool. And he made a mental note to have a chat with everyone in the bunker about sexual harassment in the hunt space.

She clenched her jaw and looked back at Dean, shrugging, "I'm used to it." That only made Sam feel worse but George continued on, "Anyway, Tim probably can't corroborate that I was with Jack but he saw me alone in the hallway around midnight… with Jack's phone. I don't know if that helps me here, or not, actually," She finished with a deep sigh. Unconsciously, she tried to lift a hand to run through her hair, only to be reminded it was handcuffed to the chair. She huffed and gripped the arms tightly instead before adding, "Listen, I don't know what kind of information you're trying to get from me, but I can tell you with complete and total honesty: I do not know where Jack is. And my vagina and I have nothing to do with why he's gone missing," That was directed at Dean, to whom she gave a pointed stare.

Ignoring her snarky decree of innocence, Dean asked slightly more nicely, "Did you see where Tim was going when you left him?"

"I didn't. He turned down the hallway toward Jack's room…" She trailed off, thinking back to that night, "but I can't say for sure where he went. Like I said, the guy was giving me the creeps, so I left quickly."

There was a dense silence in the room as the three men digested her story. They huddled together and murmured to each other for a moment.

"So, do we believe Creepy Tim or Lil Kim?" Dean asked sarcastically motioning to George with a slight nod.

Castiel was unsure, "I don't know…" He looked the woman over with a skeptical eye, feeling inexplicably uneasy in her presence but he couldn't figure out why. "Something about her is… unsettling me."

Sam frowned, "What? You think she's lying?"

"No, no, it's more… Well, truthfully, I can't explain it. I don't think she's lying necessarily, but I think there's more than meets the eye."

"Is that just a fancy way of saying she's hiding something? Because, she's definitely hiding something," Dean said definitively, glancing back at the paper with the lyrics again.

"She's answered all our questions so far," Sam defended. "Even the ones that some could construe as offensive."

"Jack's missing and she was the last one seen with him. Just because you're sweet on her, doesn't mean she's not evil," Dean sneered.

"Historically speaking, it would make her more likely to be evil," Castiel added helpfully and Sam looked deeply offended.

With an annoyed huff, Sam grumbled, "She's the last one to be seen with him according to Tim. Obviously, their stories don't match up. Look, I'm not saying there isn't something strange about her," with a glance back at her he lowered his voice, "and obviously she wasn't honest about where she came from, but I really don't think we know enough yet to say she's responsible for Jack going missing. And Tim is definitely on my radar now."

Castiel seemed doubtful, "I don't know. Do we now believe her over Tim? The people of the camp fought beside us against Michael. Against Lucifer! He's our ally, isn't he?"

Neither was sure how to answer that. Sam thought for a minute, remembering something. With a brow furrow, he looked back at George suddenly, asking, "What music did you listen to?"

George looked confused, "What?"

"You said you borrowed the phone to listen to music?"

George's eyes went a little wide and she sputtered, "Oh… right, yea, the phone. Music." With what she hoped looked like a calm shrug she explained, "I didn't actually get to. Jack broke the speakers on the phone and…" she paused guiltily, "I might have... misplaced the headphones."

"Misplaced?" Castiel asked curiously as the three of them shared another look.

George rolled her eyes in annoyance at herself and said, "OK, yes, I lost them! They were attached to the phone when Jack gave it to me but when I got back to my room, I couldn't find them..." She trailed off guiltily.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel looked at each other with urgency and Castiel nodded before turning to leave quickly, "Tim. On it."

George looked confused but remained silent, watching them carefully. Dean and Sam spoke quietly to each other.

"Tim brought those headphones back when we first saw him at Jack's room, right?" Sam asked, even though he knew he was right.

Dean nodded and said, "And she said when she dropped the phone he handed it back to her. Probably swiped them then."

"You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I'm thinking Tim is at the top of my suspect list now and I'm pretty close to pounding on his face, yea," Dean and Sam nodded in agreement and then glanced over George again.

"What about-"

Dean shook his head, unsure, "I don't know, man. You seem to be pretty sure she's innocent and based on what we know right now, I'm inclined to agree with you… but there's still something odd about her. And Tim was right about one thing: she obviously lied about coming from Apocalypse World. No one knew her. And she was hiding out in that room we didn't know existed until today, which is honestly kinda creepy. So, where did your little stalker come from and what is she doing here?"

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Why don't we just ask her?"

Dean thought about it for a minute and then shrugged, "Alright, I will." He turned away from Sam and back to George, looking at her curiously, "So, George." The look she gave him was very done and he smiled, "Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot-"

"Oh? To which foot are you referring? The one where you strangled me or the one where you all but accused me of sexually assaulting a teenager?"

Dean smirked and gave her an apologetic expression, "Both. Mostly the first. I wasn't trying to hurt you, exactly-"

"Yea, I get it. You were just doing your job," George sighed, still annoyed about the sexist insinuation about her relationship with Jack, but understanding about the interrogation. If Jack really was missing, she knew they had to 'work the case.' It's just, so far as she knew, Sam was the only one who had ever seen her and Jack together and to hear Dean tell it, there were some concerns about their friendship. It hurt her more than she wanted to admit to think Sam was the one with those concerns.

"Right," Dean nodded slowly and then asked, "So, how did you end up here? At the bunker."

George's expression went from annoyed to surprised and then nervous, "Uhh, what… what do you mean?"

Dean shrugged, "I mean, Sam said you told him you came from Apocalypse World?"

George glanced at Sam and then darted her eyes around the room nervously, "I don't know if I said it so much as he guessed and I didn't correct him, but..."

When George didn't offer any further explanation, Dean and Sam exchanged a glance and Dean said, "Yea, and uh… Jules said the two of you were close."

"She did?" That was interesting.

Dean nodded emphatically, "Oh yea! Said the two of you fought together in Apocalypse World. Said you killed a lot of those giant squid aliens together?" Sam had to force himself to not roll his eyes at his brother's ruse.

"G-giant squ-?" George's eyes went wide and she muttered, "Holy-I really need to pay better attention to this show..."

"What?" Sam's brow raised.

George cleared her throat and said, "Nothing! Uh, just… yeah, I-I guess if that's what Jules said then… yup, I-I… I did that?"

"That sounds like a question?" Dean asked with an eyebrow raise. "Did you fight and kill giant squid aliens or not?"

George paused and then said slowly, "Whatever Jules said is exactly, uh-what happened."

Dean had to fight to keep his face expressionless, so he paused before saying, "Right. Well, hey, in that case I want to extend my condolences." Dean looked down and Sam tried not to react to whatever his brother was doing. "She told us how you lost your half human-half giant squid alien husband to the fight."

Her jaw dropped in surprise and a quiet chuckle of absurdity escaped her lips before she could stop it. As she struggled to keep her expression from showing the immense confusion she felt, her mind was drawing a complete blank at how to respond to this information. Was this in the show?!

Sam also struggled to keep his composure, lifting a hand up to rub his nose oh-so-casually, hiding a smirk.

When she couldn't respond Dean encouraged-slowly, as he was also struggling, "That must have been difficult? Losing Flurbert like that."

George grimaced and started nodding slowly, still looking very uncertain. She wasn't exactly sure how to feel about losing her imaginary human-squid alien hybrid husband. "Ye-eah… always hard to lose someone…" Finally sputtered out of her mouth.

Dean's eyes widened quickly in disbelief that she hadn't cracked at 'Flurbert'. With determination, he pushed forward, "Jules said it was real recent, too." George made an exaggerated noise of sad agreement, trying desperately to control the I-think-I'm-going-nuts laughter that was bubbling up. She was kind of nervous that the struggle might make her vomit.

With a sad shake of his head Dean continued, "I can't imagine what you're going through. I mean, I just don't know how you're going to do it all alone."

George narrowed her eyes a bit and managed a confused, "Do… what?"

Sam quickly turned away as Dean explained, "Raise all the babies." Luckily, he'd realized what was about to happen a split second before Dean said it, otherwise his face would have given them away.

"The fuck?" George blurted.

Dean's expression was innocent and he explained, "Yeah, Jules told us about the pregnancy, too." Sam couldn't turn back around, he was biting his fist to keep from laughing.

George's face twisted into a nearly crazed look of disbelief and asked, "Sorry-Jules... told you... that I was an ex soldier in a war against, er-giant squid aliens... who is also pregnant by her dead... human-squid... alien hybrid husband?"

Dean gave her a little 'oops' face and asked earnestly, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Were you not announcing yet?"

George was silent for a long time before finally, unable to stop it, she burst into the most insane laughter she's ever experienced. Between gasps she managed to get out, "What-the-fuck-is-happening?!"

Sam and Dean shared an amused look. Dean looked proud of himself and Sam rolled his eyes at his dumb brother. He could have easily just told her they knew she wasn't from Apocalypse World, but Dean loved the drama.

"Did you guys get new writers or something, what the hell!?" George managed to squeak out before another round of laughter. The look the brothers shared next was one of confusion. As she calmed down, tears streaming down her face, she said, "Oh my lord, I've gone beyond Oz at this point. Giant Squid Aliens?! That's Star Trek, not Supernatural!"

"Supernatural?" Dean asked and Sam whipped around to her, suddenly serious again. George saw them looking at her suspiciously and her laughter died away. She knew she had no choice but to tell them the truth now.

"Wha-" Sam furrowed his brow at her and asked dubiously, "Are you a fan of Supernatural?" His face fell suddenly and he swallowed nervously, "Did Becky send you?"

"Ha!" Came barking out before she could help it. With a pensive expression, trying not to laugh again, she said, "Um… Well, yes to the first question; hard no to the second."

Dean was getting angry and growled, "Explain."

George took a nervous breath and said, "OK… well, here's the thing: I wasn't lying about being from an alternate reality, I just was lying about which one I came from. When you ask if I'm a fan of Supernatural, I assume you're talking about the books. By Carver Edlund, right?" Dean and Sam both nodded affirmatively with a slight frown. "OK, so, I'm not a fan of the books. I've actually never read them because they don't exist in my reality," George looked guilty and paused again.

The brothers exchanged another confused look and Dean asked more than stated, "OK?"

"I'm confused," Sam took a step closer. "You're a fan of Supernatural but you come from an alternate reality where Supernatural doesn't exist?"

"I said the books don't exist…" George gave them a nervous smile, waiting for them to come to the conclusion on their own. They weren't, so she said, "Think back about six-ish years ago?"

Following her directions, Sam's face slowly went from confusion to disbelief and then shock. Dean's face did the same, on about a five second delay. George squeezed her lips shut to keep from laughing.

"Wait… Are you saying you're from that-that alternate reality where this is all a TV show?" Sam asked, extremely skeptical. Then again it certainly explained a lot of her little idiosyncrasies.

George winced guiltily and nodded, "Yeah."

No one knew what to say and they all felt equally as awkward suddenly.

"You think we're actors?" Dean asked finally.

George shook her head a little and shrugged, "I don't really know how to answer that question." A nervous laughter bubbled up and she looked queasy suddenly, "I'm in a new reality for fucks sake. When I first got here? I definitely thought you were all actors, yes. Which was incredibly embarrassing because I couldn't remember Rowena's real name-er, Rowena's actress' real name? You know what I mean. Anyway, it definitely took some convincing, to say the least, but I've been here a while now and I've kinda gotten used to it? I mean, I think I know that you're really Sam Winchester and you're really Dean Winchester and this is all really… real." With a pair of wide eyes, she let out a huff of apologetic frustration, "Still, it's not every day you're suddenly ON a television show. I still get embarrassingly nervous whenever I see another charac-person I recognize," she shook her head with a light blush. "Which is exactly why I was trying to avoid you all while I waited for Rowena to help me get back home. But then I kept fucking up and running into Sam and then I woke up in his room and then Jack found me there and-and-and then he found me in the kitchen and he looked so sad; I had to help! What was I supposed to do?! And then Gamestop and Sam had a beard and things just spiraled! I-I-I-" He near breathless rambling stopped short when she met Sam's sweet eyes and her blush darkened.

"She woke up in your room?" Dean asked with a curious look to Sam.

Ignoring him, Sam quickly interjected, "Er-Rowena? What does she have to do with all this? Does she have Jack?"

George shook her head vehemently, "Nono, no! I told you, my being here has nothing to do with Jack being missing. I'm not part of this story, I don't belong here; I'm just… like one of those little fish that stick to sharks. Just looking for a safe place to hang out, maybe mooch a little bit of food here and there, until I can get back home to my reality. I'm not here to mess with anything. In fact, I think it's best for everyone if you let me go back to my hovel and consider me not here! Just pretend I don't exist because I'm definitely not supposed to. Here, that is."

Sam frowned for a minute and asked, "How do you know?"

"Know what?" She asked in confusion.

"That you aren't supposed to be here?"

"Oh, well funny you should mention that. To add some glitter to the glue I've obviously been sniffing-if I may borrow a phrase," She shot a smirk to Sam. He furrowed his brow in shock, remembering having said something similar when he was without his soul some eight years prior. She then grimaced and finished apologetically, "I come from the year 2020."

Both the boys looked yet more stunned and exchanged dubious expressions. Even Sam was starting to feel worried about this woman's mental health.

"Those lyrics I wrote down? They're from a song that was just released a few months ago, which is why I can't listen to it here. All the shit you're going through right now-Michael, apocalypse world? Ya, all of that has already happened for me. On the show, I mean."

It hit Sam hard suddenly just how much she knew about them-him, and it felt like he'd swallowed cement. He was ashamed of all the horrible things he'd done, the pain he'd caused so many people. It wasn't reasonable to expect a partner to be understanding about any of it, which is partly why he'd been reluctant to pursue relationships more and more.

But he'd been really hoping that maybe she was meant to be part of h-the story, so he asked anyway, "But... how do you know this is supposed to happen? That you aren't supposed to be part of… the 'story?'"

George guffawed and said, "Look, I'm admittedly behind on watching these last few seasons-and maybe I wouldn't be considered the world's biggest Supernatural fan-but I'm pretty confident that I was never actually on it," She finished with a definitive nod. Was it her or did Sam seem strangely disappointed.

"OK, tell me something only a fan of Supernatural would know," Dean said dubiously.

She narrowed her eyes in doubt, "Like… something just about major events or something personal? I-I know you killed Hitler?"

The two men quickly looked at each other in shock and then Sam shook his head, "Wait, that does not count. He tells that story to anyone who'll listen."

"I know you can lift Thor's hammer!" She replied back to him, grinning at the memory. That was pretty hot.

Dean turned to his brother with a smug smirk, "You were saying?"

"Something more personal, then?" Sam asked sheepishly.

"Uuuuhhhh…" George was frozen, unsure how to answer until finally she blurted, "OK, how about I know 'Carver Edlund' is really 'Chuck Shurley' is really motherfucking GOD with a capital G! Huh? Or, ooh! How about Sam's imaginary friend person? I can't remember his name, but he was some kind of being called like Xanadu or Zanzibar or-"

"A zanna," Sam choked out, all the air missing from his lungs suddenly.

"Sure, right! A zanna! Honestly, I mostly remember that episode because of the mermaid. It was sad when she was killed; I love mermaids." Sam looked nauseous and Dean suspicious, but both their eyes were wide. The three of them were all staring at each other, unsure what to say.

Finally, Sam gulped, "Dean, no one knows about Sully."

"I don't know Sam, I'm just not convinced. A time traveling superfan? C'mon! She could have gotten this intell from... anyone…"

George thought for a minute and then said, "Well I know a few more personal things but it feels kind of… icky telling you about yourself like that." Dean and Sam exchanged nervous glances and then she said, "How about the fact that-in my reality-Castiel is played by a different actor because Misha Collins was murdered? And that, while the official word was robbery-gone-wrong, I think the three of us know the cause of death was a bit more Supernatural than that, hmm?" She looked at the two of them pointedly, with a small, sardonic smirk.

That one shook both of them and they looked very guilty, especially Sam. Then, looking at Dean, she kept going, "Like I said I'm not the biggest fan but if we're talking most recent seasons: I know you had the mark of Cain for a bit. I know you stabbed Death with his own scythe and released the darkness who started as baby Amara and then grew up real fast. And I also know you were kinda, sorta feelin' her for a while-no shame. She was hot," Dean gulped and George began listing off factoids like it was a grocery list, "I know she brought your mom back to life. I know that Sam got kidnapped and tortured by the British Men of Letters. I know they tried to kill you both but obviously they didn't know who they were fucking with and it didn't go well for them… I know that stuffy psychopath Ketch 'died'," she air quoted, "but then came back with some bullshit twin story which I don't really remember why because I was only half paying attention and I personally still think Ketch is a tool, but that's neither here nor there." She paused and Dean made a nod of agreement at her last comment, giving Sam a curious look. The young Winchester could do little else but blink rapidly and panic internally. Neither one could wrap their heads around this.

With a head shake and a frustrated eye roll, Dean asked, "So, let me get this straight, not only do you come from an alternate reality where Sam and I are just two douchey, Polish actor dweebs, but you're also from the future of that reality?"

"Well... I think only Jared's the only one who's Polish, but…" George shrugged helplessly, "essentially, yea." The deafening, dumbfounded silence returned.

Dean frowned and he asked slowly, "To do what? And how did you get here?"

George winced and deep sighed, "Yea, still working on all that. Honestly, I hadn't even thought about the 'why' of it; I was more focused on a general 'wtf' and 'how do I get out of here before I fuck it up and get the show canceled or something.' As for how I got here, I couldn't tell you. One minute I'm in my apartment, getting ready for a date, and-"

"Oh, a date?" Sam asked, a little too sharply, standing at attention. Dean snickered at Sam's doofy, fake innocent expression.

George nodded off handedly, "Yea, this guy I met online. We were supposed to meet up for the first time at Marin Headlands Park for a hike to watch the sunset." She finished wistfully, as though it was incredibly romantic. Sam and Dean looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

"Let me get this straight. You 'met' a guy online-so basically a stranger-and he asked you to go to a secluded, wooded area alone with him at dusk?" Sugar coating wasn't Dean's forte. "Can I get 'what is a thousand red flags' for $500 Alex?"

She narrowed her eyes defensively at him. "He's not a stranger, he's… he's… he's LuvsToHike79!"

"Oh my God," Dean's voice went high and Sam made an "oo, not good" face. Pulling his most smug 'told ya so' look, Dean held out his arms to an imaginary audience, "might as well be notaserialkiller19! No question that loser was going to club you over the head, drag you back to his basement, and chain you to the floor."

As George struggled to remember the guy's real name, she could feel her cheeks begin to burn. After a moment, she decided that she would not be accepting questions or comments regarding her barely-there love life from Jared Padalecki or Jensen Ackles…or Sam or Dean Winchester for that matter!

"Says the 'loser' who nearly suffocated me, carried me to the dungeon in his secret bunker, and handcuffed me to a chair?" Lifting her wrists demonstratively, the handcuffs clanged loudly against the metal armrests. Sam looked like he wished the floor would swallow him whole while Dean nodded his head in resignation at her point. "The point is, I was in my apartment and then… something strange happened, like loud music and a big shove, and then suddenly I was in the library with Rowena. After she dropped the alternate reality bombshell, she said she'd been casting some spells to help boost the power and keep the rift open for you guys to be able to get back. Somehow I came through the rift, too? When she left me in that hobbit hole-which by the way she conjured out of thin air. It was really cool-she promised to come back after she was able to ensure your safe return. That was nearly a month ago," She finished with an annoyed smile. "She certainly lives up to her reputation and I can't tell if that's comforting or incredibly annoying."

"Why not both?" Dean offered with a knowing smirk.

Before anything else could be said, they heard erratic footsteps approaching. All three of them turned to see Castiel leading a very reluctant and struggling Tim into the room. Tim started elbowing and slapping at him and, in frustration, Cas shoved him hard. George let out a yelp of surprise as the guy went crashing to the ground inside the dungeon. He landed at Sam and Dean's feet. Looking up at them slowly there was a panicked expression on his face.

He gulped when Dean grinned like a cat about to eat the canary, "Hiya, Tim."

Tim scrambled to his feet and tried to bolt but Dean tripped him. He stumbled and then turned around and swung at Dean hard. Dean dodged the punch and landed one of his own into the guy's gut. There was a loud clanging sound as George instinctively tried to bring her hands to her face in shock. When he started trying to get up again, Castiel elbowed him in the back and he crumpled to the ground with a disoriented groan.

Sam quickly picked up the keys to the handcuffs and walked over to her, "We're probably going to need that chair back now."

"Happy to oblige," George nodded enthusiastically and yanked on the handcuffs that were holding her down. Sam unlocked her hands and ankles in record time and she vacated the chair quickly.

"Sorry about that, we just have to be careful, you know?" He apologized, nervously watching her move away from the hot seat and toward the desk in the corner of the room. "Are you hurt?" Sam asked with some concern when she rubbed her wrists absentmindedly.

She shrugged and stopped, "Actually, no. Just habit."

"You get handcuffed a lot?" Sam joked, sounding relieved, while moving to help Dean haul the guy into the chair.

"Only when there's a safeword involved," She assured with a wink.

Sam let out an "Aheh!" and some silent chuckles followed as he locked the cuffs on Tim's wrists and ankles. George couldn't see his face but she pictured he was blushing and it made her smile.

Dean, who'd secured Tim on the other side, stood upright again. He gave both George and Sam a bemused once over, then said aloud to himself, "Yea, it's all starting to make sense now."

George's smile dropped and she asked curiously, "What?"

Dean chose not to answer. Sam finished snapping the cuffs and then stood upright, just as Dean tossed a flask of holy water at Tim. His skin sizzled and he was alert again suddenly. Growling in pain, he struggled against his bindings fiercely and his eyes flashed black. George shivered in shock, goosebumps covering her entire body.

Whoa, that's intense.

Sam turned toward George and warned, "So, this," He motioned toward Tim, "might get a little..."

"Intense?" She filled in the blanks, watching Dean set the flask down and pick a knife up off the table next to her. He gave the blade an appreciative once over that made her gulp. Nodding before Sam could even answer, she headed for the door, "Well, then, that's my cue."

Sam followed behind her a bit, walking her out. When they were almost to the door, they heard the demon formerly known as Tim comment, "Letting the chubby little slut go, hmm? Did she tell you where she's hiding Jack, yet? Someone do a thorough check between her legs?"

While Dean adjusted his grip on the blade and took a step forward, Sam unholstered his gun, cocked it, and aimed lazily, "Would you like to repeat that, Timmy? Didn't quite hear you."

The menacing timbre of his voice gave George goosebumps, yet she was barely paying attention, glaring at Tim with a white hot rage. After a beat, she forced herself to relax and cleared her throat.

Her finger raised in the air, as she took a step forward, looked at the demon with a polite smile, and began sweetly, "First of all, wow are you obsessed with my body. Sorry not sorry: even if you weren't a demon, hard pass. Second, you can aim all that tired slut shaming at someone who actually gives a shit, because it ain't me. Third," Sam lowered his gun, watching her take another step and gave Tim an expression of such pity that it made even Dean uncomfortable, "what kind of demon takes a shot at the Winchesters and misses? Hmm?" Dean, Sam, and Castiel watched, stunned and confused. They were poised to step in if she got too close as she took another step toward the suddenly confused demon and continued, "Oh wait, I know!" She placed her hands open on either side of her mouth and shouted, "EVERY OTHER FUCKING DEMON who's come before you, TIM! Far, far better demons than you. Meg? Dead. Abaddon? Dead. Alastair? Lilith? Ruby? You guessed it: dead. Well, OK, there was Yellow Eyes," she admitted, feigning resolve.

"Nope, actually, we got him too," Dean interjected helpfully, thoroughly enjoying this. Plus, as endearingly irritating as he found her, watching a confident woman verbal bitch slap a demon was hot. He could tell from the look on his brother's face, he felt the same.

George acted mock surprised, "Ope! You don't say! I have a hard time keeping track." She looked back at Tim and said, "You know, these guys have killed so many demons, that where I come from there's an entire wikipedia page just listing name after name of all the demons who came for them and died trying. I'm sure you realize that a lot of them were smarter than you. Yet for some reason, you, Tim-or Krampus or whatever the fuck your demon name is-"

"I-It-It's actually Cleetus…" Came a pathetic stutter.

George's neck snapped back and she shared a 'wow' face with Dean. After a moment she said sarcastically, "Catchy. Yet, I've already forgotten it. Tim, you actually thought you were going to be different, huh? Thought that you were going to be the one to finally get them, right? That your name wouldn't end up on that list? Yet, your cover story is some played out all-women-are-whores BS, accusing me of trying to seduce Jack and kidnap him or something? Really? Your big play was a poorly constructed red herring? That's it?" The look of pity was back and Dean was almost feeling bad for the guy. "You thought if you wanted it bad enough that you'd actually pull it off, hmm? Well, buddy, I've seen every episode of America's Next Top Model and I've got bad news: 'wanting it more' gets you squat."

"No kidding, otherwise Natasha would have won season 8 like she should have," Dean chimed in matter of factly.

George's adrenaline was pumping at this point, so she was unable to process the absurdity of that statement coming out of Dean Winchester's mouth-especially since he was wrong; Jaslene was far superior. The look on Sam's face alone nearly broke her, but she pushed forward and made a mental note to address it later.

With a shrug she continued, "Now, sure, you infiltrated their bunker, bravo! But, I'm looking around and seeing: you, special little demon snowflake you," Sam wondered if George had the urge to boop the man on the nose, as indicated by her tone in that moment, "helplessly tied to a chair. And I'm seeing both of them," She held her thumbs out at both brothers smugly, "decidedly not tied to chairs. Oh yea, and holding weapons." Then she pointed to Castiel and said, "Also, not only is that guy an angel but I think he's also kinda the dad of the kid they're looking for and boy does he look pissed." Castiel was quick enough to mask his confusion with the rage he was feeling and she continued, "Sure, he's not currently holding a weapon, but honestly I don't even think he's going to need one, do you?" She gave Tim an exaggerated grimace and motioned around to the room, advising, "Tim, look at your life. Look at your choices."

The demon, whose brow was suddenly damp, watched her with a confused, somewhat deflated expression and began to say, "Well, I-"

Cutting him off, she began to step backwards away from him slowly, "Anyway, I'm gonna go ahead and take off now. It's one thing to watch pretend torture on TV but another thing to see actual torture. So..." She let her words sink in before she turned around and started heading for the exit again. The demon looked nervously between the three men, who were all looking particularly puffed up and menacing by that point. Tossing up a peace sign as she left, she called out, "Better luck next time, Tim!"

The four of them remained in stunned silence for an incredibly long time before Dean finally said, "OK, if you insist, I'll say it: That was hot as shit."

Sam gave him a disapproving frown for his phrasing, then nodded begrudgingly in agreement.

“For the record, Natasha should not have won that season. Jaslene was the superior model," Castiel added, giving Dean a pointed look, almost unconsciously unsheathing his angel blade and stepping toward Tim.

Oddly, Tim nodded enthusiastically and agreed, "Yea, Jaslene was way bet-"

"Can we focus please?!" Sam said in exasperation. Dean and Castiel looked like scolded children with matching apologetic expressions.

When Sam turned away, Dean grumbled quietly to Cas, "We'll talk about it later."

"There's nothing to talk about. Jasle-"

"Guys!"

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father-tobias · 4 years

Text

Tobias Keller swab abord the Serpent

EMPATHETIC & MAGNETIC MOODY & POSSESSIVE

Born to a Christian family at the tail end of the Hessian War, the Keller’s had a strong relationship with the church in part due to their family business of wine making. Tobias was at first a dutiful son and took interest in the family business, however as he grew older and grew closer to the church he felt a disconnect between their teachings and their practice. Yet still a faithful man he became interested in Lutherism, a big believer that salvation could not be bought but earned. Though he was still on the fence as to what faith suited him best his family discovered he had been speaking with a Lutheran priest and disowned him for fear he would hurt their business. Tobias sought out the priest again, unsure of what to do at the tender age of seventeen, and was taken to be taught to be a priest himself.

Once ordained he said he wanted to travel as more than just a missionary. He wanted to get to know the community seek out the downtrodden and bring them salvation. While Tobias never ignored the devout he found himself gravitating to those who weren’t so interested in the church. At first Tobias wondered why but soon realized some people were just too focused on survival in those life to care much about the next. So he tended to these people-- regardless of their faith. As he traveled he also met people of other faiths and discussed their ideas about God and the nature of man. After all, Luther had translated the bible so the common man could speculate about God. Was this not in line with his teaching?

In his early thirties Tobias found himself in Spain, a country going through a tumultuous time due to it’s wars but making plenty of money due to the colonies. Nor was it a very safe place for a man of his faith but he persisted, having learned long ago how to protect himself on the road. In Huelva, he met Francisca, a married woman with a deep interest in faith though not a religious person herself. Tobias loved to discuss faith with her, finding her opinions fascinating especially for a woman who grew up under the strict doctrine of Spain’s Catholicism. Tobias would confess lust was the sin that lead him astray the most. Before then he had kept his relationship with men, a much more scandalous relationship but also easier to hide. That was before Francisca of course.

When Francisca fell pregnant Tobias begged her to leave her husband and come with him to somewhere, anywhere, far away from all she knew. Francisca was appalled, confused on how a man of faith could really expect her to leave her husband, that he would be so selfish as to have her forgo her entire life just for him. Francisca told him he could do what he wanted, even tell her husband the truth, but she wanted nothing to do with him. Distraught, Tobias boarded a ship for the New World, landing in Port Royal.

At first he tried preaching but found the people much too free spirited to subscribe to such a strict doctrine. So instead, Tobias began to learn from the people, stepping away from scripture. Of course along the way he met even more men of faith from all different corners of the world and gained some insight as to what it meant to be at peace. Despite this, the incident with Francisca still shook him, epseically a year later when he realized somewhere out there a child with his face was walking about. Tobias turned to the bottle and lost several years in Port Royal.

One night in a dark bar, a man approached Tobias and while he may have been more a lay man than a man of faith at that time, he still held the charisma of a parishioner. The two talked and drank for hours their topic ranging from wealth to women to wine. The man explained he was a captain of a ship and offered Tobias a chance to sail with him and his crew. Tobias agreed, if for any reason to give him a chance to leave Port Royal. The next day he was aboard the Cursed Serpent-- his role simply as confidant to the captain.

While the idea of living on a pirate ship was a bit unseemly to Tobias at first, he enjoyed his time with Bradway and he grew to care for the other crew mates. Especially the younger members of the crew who he knew had full lives ahead of them. Bradway and Tobias would spend their nights debating and while things could get heated they would always end the night with drinks and smiles. Neither of them cared about winning the debate, only challenging each other’s ideals. All was well and good for ten years till Bradway said something to Tobias he could not shake. Appalled and disgusted, Tobias left at the first port the ship docked, citing that it was just time for him to move on as he had done for most of his life.

Now without a crew Tobias returned to drinking and freeloading. He joined crews at random not caring if they were merchants or pirates or fisherman. Yet he never stayed around for long as the other crews only saw a soft drunkard who got in the way. For five years he lived that life till being abandoned in Westburgh. There on the docks he recognized a familiar sight. The Cursed Serpent, returned to him once again-- a sign from God one might say.

Quick Facts

He has few possessions save for his bible (written in German), a crucifix necklace, and a hunting knife.

Despite everything he is still very faithful and reads his bible and prays when he wakes up and before he goes to sleep. However he does not feel a need to convert anyone seeing it as a distraction to the cause of salvation.

Lust and drink are he main vices though he is much more open about the later than the former.

Wanted Connections

DRINKING BUDDY: Tobias loves the drink. While he often drinks alone he always enjoys company and would easily fall into a routine with one of the cremates.

DISAGREEABLE MINDS: While Tobias welcomes all faiths and ideas he is at heart a priest and tends to follow those doctrines. Someone on board disagrees and the two will discuss and debate ideas relating to the soul of man.

FATHER O FATHER: An older man Tobias can’t help but be a father figure to some members of the crew. He tries to council this person beyond what he normally would and may even open up about his own personal struggles.

#cs:intro

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persephonewing · 4 years

Text

Choosing a New Name for a Truer Body: Introducing Persephone

After coming out as a Transgender Woman a few days ago, nothing has really felt the same. Or, in more positive terms, everything is feeling more real. I’m openly talking about being and feeling like a woman. How my gender dysphoria has confused and harmed me for the past twenty one years and all the many transitions (Socially, culturally, physically) that will and are currently happening to me.

Upon this, just yesterday, me and one my best friends, Emma, were swimming at a nearby lake here at Eastern Washington University. We had been playing around with names. For a moment I was dead set on the name Camilla. It had a C in it, like my boy name so it felt familiar. It allowed me to feel comfortable, passable, and like a cis-woman. A simple name that no one would question, look at, or invalidate. In a way, the name Camilla itself made me feel like it would protect me from the cis, straight world but as all trans women come to know, I would never be accepted there. A fate Persephone came to understand too.

I expressed this to Emma on the trip. How I wanted to find a name. A name that really encompassed my story, my truth, and my unwavering love and comfortability in womanhood.

Emma is an art history major and is just an overall intelligent girl. I asked her about names that would fit me in her realm of knowledge. Maybe some from the greek classics and/or greek myths.

This is when she told me the story of Persephone, the greek goddess of spring and the underworld. I was in complete euphoria hearing the story and swaying on the surface of the buoyant, dirty water. I felt like a true women just then as Jalaja Bonheim’s writes on her website,

“When women get together, they tell stories. This is how it has always been. Telling stories is our way of saying who we are, where we have come from and what we know. Women have always found sacredness in the midst of the ordinary, harvesting spiritual wisdom from the fields and forests of their everyday embodied experience.”

Emma went on to tell me the story and the raping of beautiful Persephone. I felt myself slowly being connected to this woman. To her entire experience. I felt myself slowly unpacking, relating, and bonding to this mythical figure.

Persephone is seen as a more vulnerable goddess. Where relationships are essential to her life, as they are to my own. Her whole life, a relationship has taken the lead. Most times over what she really wants and desires. She is known for putting the needs of others over her own, something I have struggled with my whole life.

Her mother, the powerful goddess Demeter, is controlling and desperately wishes to be with her daughter at all times. Her rapist and husband Hades forces her for a third of the year to be imprisoned with him. She is even the goddess that welcomes the living and shows them the underworld and teaches them about life and death. Plus her constant affairs and dramas with the other gods all goes to prove that this woman takes the people and relationships in her life very seriously.

This isn't to be confused with weakness, confusion, or stupidity as so many people try to say she is. She loves and she loves hard. She knows both love and loss profoundly. She knows the horror of powerful men deciding and controlling her every move. She knows what it means to transcend through death (her being brought to the underworld with hades) and to be born again as a more powerful, authentic, and understanding woman (when she becomes free again with her mother, picking flowers). She knows sisterhood, struggle, and lust. To me, Persephone is the definition of my womanhood. She embodies a lot of what womanhood looks like for myself and my life.

The article “Greek Goddesses and the Wisdom of 7 Feminine Archetypes” by Ibtisaam writes about this group of vulnerable goddesses, saying

“Vulnerable Goddesses (Hera, Demeter and Persephone)... Correspond to traditional roles of wife, mother, and daughter. They are the relationship-oriented goddess archetypes, whose identities and well-being depend on having a significant relationship. They express women’s needs for affiliation and bonding… each of them also evolved, and can provide women with an insight into the nature and pattern of their own reactions to loss, and the potential for growth through suffering.”

Focusing more about Peresphone the author writes

“Persephone contains within her the dual archetype of the maiden (a young goddess, innocent and associated with fertility) and the Queen of the Underworld (“who reigns over the dead souls, guides the living who visit the underworld, and claims for herself what she wants”). To be the maiden has less to do with age than it does to do with “being the eternal girl who doesn’t commit herself to anything or anyone, because making a definite choice eliminates other possibilities”. While this allows for great adaptability, in order to truly grow, the Persephone woman must learn to make commitments and to live up to them. Failing this, she will forever be a victim of the will and power of others, becoming a long-sufferer or martyr. However, her descent into the underworld shows the possibility of pain forcing growth. As the Queen, Persephone symbolizes receptivity, intuition and empathy to the suffering of others. Thus, Persephone’s gifts include the cultivation of imagination and inspiration.”

As Emma contuined on with the stories I noticed many men started to take the form of Hades in my vision. My dad, my step-dad, my first love, my brother, and the male world at large. Hades had come to symbolize body dysmorphia and the privileged male world.

Here is Persephone, me. A girl picking flowers, enjoying and comforted by her mother, resting in her beauty and strength. Thinking of nights with her sisters, of lust and love. A girl that wanted to see things, know things, teach things. A girl that wanted the comfortable, dramatic, and loving life as a wife and sister. Just a woman, end of sentence.

Then a man comes. He corrupts, harms, and oppresses her. Steals her away from her mother and her sisters (stealing her away from her womanhood) and into a world of oppression, abuse, neglect, and pain. A world that some could see, as I do, as a males world. A world that I nor Persephone have been allowed to survive in. Hades kid-napes her, rapes her, holds her prisoner, and slowly tries to make her become what so many women fear to become: a shell of her former, womanly self.

I felt a massive connection here, I knew what it was like to be taken from the world of women (as I was younger) and into the world of men (when I was older) and feeling completely disgusted, unnerved, and wrong about it.

But, Persephone is not weak. She’s smart. She was able to become free. Hades had fallen in love with her womanhood the moment he saw it and she knew that this was his biggest flaw. She had something that she could use. She decided to be his wife because even though he symbolized and represented the worst of manhood, she knew there would be freedom in having access to both worlds. In having relationships in both worlds. She does this even when others don't understand it. Even when people try to rob her of her femininity, she powers on as the undercover ruler of both worlds.

I relate to this as a woman who consistently feels divided between these two spheres.

My world of womanhood where I am truly myself, beautiful, and authentic. With other women who protect and respect and care for me. Who love me. Where I can flip my hair, cry, drink wine, and talk about struggle. And the other world, the underworld, where I am surviving, working, and grinding to change and mold into a body and life that is not mine.

Persephone knows pain, hurt, loss, and grief. Her mission is to help every passenger, in both worlds, better understand themselves and the complexities of living life. This has always been my mission as well and hurt as been the greatest teacher to both of us.

Persephone symbolizes everything I have felt myself to be as a woman. Loving, forgiving, powerful. A woman who gets what she wants even when everyone thinks they have her in the bag. She knows growth and transformation. She is a woman that I have always felt myself to be.

So now, with the thanks of Emma and research, I am changing my first name to be Persephone. A name that my younger self would've cherished. A deserving name for a deserving woman.

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jlalafics · 5 years

Text

Part Four of “Rent Control”

We’re at the end...sort of. I’m a little nervous about this part and will be hiding with Toddler J (actually we’ll watching The Great British Baking Show in bed).

Please enjoy and I’ll see you at the epilogue!

If you haven’t read the other parts, follow the links below:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Summary: Katniss Everdeen has found the perfect home in San Francisco—great neighborhood, an easy commute and, best of all, it’s rent controlled. There’s only one problem; the landlord will only rent to a married couple.

Enter Peeta Mellark.

_____

Rent Control

Part Four

“Katniss! Get out here!”

Effie was getting impatient.

“I’m coming!”

Katniss stared at herself in the mirror, her hands dancing over the delicate fabric. Effie was right; the silhouette was still in fashion. Thanks to her mother, Daphne, and Effie, the gown fit perfectly to her body.

However, when she looked in the mirror, Katniss felt like a fraud.

A beautiful couture fraud—but a fraud, nonetheless.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!”

This time it was her mother.

With a sigh, Katniss stepped out of the Abernathy guest room and into the living room.

There was a collective sigh as the three older women gazed at her in all her bridal glory.

She turned to the mirror that Effie had placed in the room to take a real look at herself.

The gown was off-white, sleeveless, with a modest V-neckline. The skirt was made of tulle while the top half was a satin bodice with a tulle overlay. It suited her olive coloring, making her skin look even richer and her dark hair lustrous.

Her mother’s contribution was the periwinkle blue band on the gown’s waist so she would have her ‘something blue’ while the jeweled flower resting on one side of the band was from Daphne. It would be her ‘something new.’

“It’s missing something,” Effie said as she approached her. Reaching into her pocket, the woman pulled out an ornate pearl hair clip. “This was my mother’s. She wore it on her wedding day—” Effie swallowed shallowly before continuing. “—I wore it for mine.” She then arranged it so that it clipped back one side of Katniss’ long locks. “And, now you’ll wear it for yours. It’s your ‘something old and borrowed.’”

“Oh Effie.” Her hand went to the delicate clip. “I couldn’t possibly—”

Effie shook her head. “A long time ago, we found out that it would be difficult for us to have children.” She let out a shaky breath. “And, now it seems unlikely—but I’d like to think that if I had a girl, she’d be similar to you. I mean, you have Haymitch’s coloring and your scowls are very alike!”

Katniss wiped her eyes before giving Effie a smile in the mirror.

“I’d be honored to be your pretend daughter…even though you would have to had been around 17 when you had me!” Katniss replied.

Effie tapped at her nose. “Somewhere around that age.” She kissed Katniss’ cheek. “You look beautiful.”

Katniss looked at herself in the mirror; she did look beautiful—as radiant as the sun.

It wasn’t real though.

And, then she could no longer face her reflection.

++++++

Peeta knocked on the closed door of Johanna’s boutique, spying Katniss in the window. Giving him a drawn smile, she placed the till back into the register and rounded the counter to let him in.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something had shifted in their relationship. Katniss was different; it wasn’t that she was any less affectionate. When they were alone, they had more than their fill of passion—lately, maybe even more so.

That fire in Katniss, however, seemed to have dimmed since that first dinner with their families.

“Hey,” she greeted him as the door was opened and he walked in quickly. “Johanna just left and I’m finishing up.”

“Do you need help?” he offered.

“You just finished up next door,” Katniss responded. “You still want to help?”

“Of course—if it means we get some time to ourselves,” Peeta said. “What do you need? I can fold or arrange the shoe display…”

He gave her a playful grin and Katniss let out a laugh—it felt good to hear it. She had been off in her own world, at times, and Peeta wanted nothing more but to make her smile.

It wasn’t hard to admit that he lived and died for that smile.

“How about you wipe the mirrors in the dressing rooms and then run the dry mop through the floor?” she suggested instead. “Cleaning supplies are in the back.”

Before long, they fell into silence. Peeta could hear her arranging the hangers on the various racks in the store as he wiped down the mirrors.

“Katniss?” he found himself calling out.

The shuffling of hangers stopped. “Yes?”

“What’s going on with you?” Peeta knew that he was treading a thin line. There was no response. “I can feel it. You’re pushing me away. Not physically—” He placed the rag down and pushed himself onto a seat in the small dressing room. “It’s just that I wake up every morning and then we lock eyes…you used to give me this smile—a smile just for me. You don’t do that anymore…”

He looked down at his folded hands, waiting for her response.

However, there was only silence.

“I’m sorry.”

Peeta looked up to find Katniss in front of him, her gaze on his hunched figure.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked her.

Katniss knelt in front of him, her hand going to the nape of his neck. “No, you didn’t do anything.” She pressed her forehead to his. “It’s just been hard with our parents, your brothers, Prim…the fact that we’re supposed to get pretend remarried in like three days. It’s a lot.”

“I miss you,” Peeta admitted. “I mean, you’re with me—in my arms, in our bed—but you’re also a thousand miles away.”

She bit her lip anxiously before looking into his eyes.

“I know that I’ve been distracted, but there’s been a lot on my mind,” she said. “This whole wedding…and our families being so bonded now…it’s become bigger than us.”

He nodded in understanding. “I just don’t want to lose…us.”

“Scoot over.” Peeta shifted to give her space on the seat. Instead, Katniss sat on his lap. “You haven’t lost me. I guess I miss what we had before all of this craziness. I miss waking up to quiet mornings, lounging in bed and binge watching something on Netflix, Farmers Markets…you know this is the first time in almost two weeks that it’s just been us.”

“It has, hasn’t it?”

Katniss wrapped her arms around his neck. “Right now, I’m part angry, part exhausted, part horny…”

“Why are you angry?” he asked.

“I just want to find Gale and punch him in the nuts,” she muttered. “Him and his dumbass mouth—”

“Find me an address and I’ll come along with you,” Peeta said and Katniss grinned. “As for being tired, Prim told me before I left for work that she’s going out with Johanna and my brothers tonight for some sightseeing. I can draw you a bath so you can get some of that tension out.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “As for being horny…”

She shifted, straddling him, and Peeta groaned.

“I’m wearing these new linen pants,” Katniss started, her lips going to the side of his mouth. “They’re supposed to feel like I’m wearing nothing at all.” She moved along him and a sliver of heat ran up his spine. “What do you think?”

“How about you close that curtain and we make a comparison?” Peeta countered, his hands already reaching for the button on her waistband.

Katniss grinned. “Of course. Anything for a customer.”

++++++

“I hate you so much right now,” Johanna told Katniss the next morning.

Prim, who was shuffling through Katniss’ closet, turned to her sister and new friend.

“What did Katniss do?”

“You had sex in my store!” Johanna looked to Katniss, who looked down at the bridal magazine on her lap. “Don’t deny it! My morning lead just texted and asked why there’s handprints all over one of the dressing room mirrors! She says it looks like someone was trying to recreate that car sex scene in Titanic!”

“Glimmer is so dramatic,” Katniss replied. “It was not that bad.”

Johanna turned to her; arms crossed. “So, you don’t deny it?”

“No, I don’t.” Katniss closed the magazine before meeting her eyes. “It’s been weeks since Peeta and I have been alone. There are people in every nook and cranny of this building—and it was either against the mirror or on the seat. That cushion is disgusting!”

Johanna suddenly pulled her to her plush chest.

“I’m so proud…my little Katniss has finally done the dirty at work! It’s a milestone, you know.”

Katniss snorted. “Don’t get too excited. We did it at the coffee shop before all this craziness happened.”

“Gross!” Johanna grimaced. “Which roast was it on? I prefer no jizz in my coffee.”

“That was more than I needed to know,” Prim said. She met her sister’s eyes. “So, how are you doing? I know you and Peeta have agreed to continue on after…but this ceremony has kind of thrown a monkey wrench into your plans.”

“It has,” Katniss agreed. “But, what can we do?”

“I don’t know. How about admit that Peeta is stone cold in love with you?” Johanna said. “I mean, come on!”

“Love?” Katniss had a sudden interest in the bedspread. “We like each other, and we lust for one another, but love is a whole different spiral that we can’t get into.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Prim questioned. “I know you. Ever since that dipshit Gale broke up with you to sample what California had to offer, you’ve closed off. You were a romantic once—you followed a boy all the way to San Francisco—”

“And, what did that get me?” Katniss burst out.

“Open those pretty grey eyes, Katniss! It got you Peeta!” her sister countered. “And he is a hell of a lot better than Gale Hawthorne ever was for you.”

“I know.”

The bedspread was suddenly stained with tears.

“And it’s because we’ve stayed within the bounds of friendship. Anything else could be a disaster.” Katniss met her sister’s somber eyes. “And I’d rather have him everyday just as he is, than to not have him if it all falls apart.”

“Shit.” Johanna wrapped her arms around the Everdeen sisters. “This just became more complicated than a simple screw in my dressing room.”

++++++

“Where’s Katniss?” Peeta’s mother asked.

“She, Johanna, and Prim are having some girl time,” he informed her as they walked down the busy neighborhood, full of storefronts and restaurants.

“I think Katniss is going to be a great addition to the family,” Daphne told him, linking her arm through his. “She’ll be really good for you. She is really good for you.”

“Mom.” Peeta turned to her in e. “I want you to be happy for me because I am doing things for myself and I’m trying to prove that I can run a Mellark Bakery all on my own here. I don’t want you to be happy for me just off of who I married.”

“Peeta, I am happy for you,” his mother responded. “When we first arrived, there was a look in your eyes. I could see that you have come into your own. Katniss—she might not be all of the reason, but she is some of it. The Peeta I remember couldn’t even commit to a time to visit his mother and father.” She stopped and turned to him. “Now, he has committed himself to the love of his life.”

Love. There was that word again.

More and more the word played in his mind. It was the whispered word that escaped his lips whenever he woke up to see Katniss lying next to him.

“Thanks, Mom.” Peeta stopped to look around the busy street. “Where are we?”

“Your business proposal somehow made its way onto the breakfast tray that Effie and Haymitch gave your father and me this morning,” his mother said. “There was also a printout of this listing.”

Peeta looked up at the storefront. It was a two-story brick building with large display windows flagging the entrance door. It wasn’t much; but with a good layer of paint and from what he could see of the inside, a good layout and design for the interior, it could be something great.

“What do you think?” Peeta turned to his mother, who watched him in anticipation. “Do you think that this would be a good location for the first west coast Mellark Bakery?”

“It’s perfect,” he said in awe. “Good neighborhood, close to retail, and easily accessible.” Peeta grinned at his mother. “Who gave you the printout?”

“There’s only one person who would know where you kept your business proposal,” Daphne said, a small grin on her lips. “Consider this a wedding present.”

++++++

“Katniss!” Peeta slammed the door behind him. “Are you home?”

“Yes!” came the response from their room. “Are you alright?”

“I’m perfect! Wonderful even!”

The papers had been signed just this afternoon and he, Peeta Mellark, now owned his own bakery space. Yes, he would be paying his parents back until the end of time, but it would be all worth it to run his own business—and Katniss would have their space to design the best-looking bakery that San Francisco had ever seen.

Not to mention, he made a kickass cheese bun.

He froze in his tracks, sensing something…off. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

He whipped around at her voice and the air left his body.

There Katniss stood in her wedding dress. She awkwardly held the skirt as she walked towards him.

“Effie and my mom did the final fitting,” Katniss explained. “What do you think?”

His mouth rose in a grin and Peeta reached for her hands, his eyes roaming the satin and tulle gown, before meeting her anxious eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” Katniss flushed at his words. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to see the bride in her gown.”

“Well, we’ve pretty much said ‘up yours’ to tradition,” she replied. “What’s a few minutes of you seeing me in this get-up?”

Peeta lifted her chin to look into her deep, slate eyes. When did he start caring for nothing but her happiness?

It might have been forever.

It probably would be forever—even when this charade ended, and they separated.

And, suddenly he ached.

“May I kiss the bride?” he asked, bringing her close.

Katniss nodded. “Of course.”

Their lips met, chastely at first, before his bride pressed forward to deepen the kiss.

He lost himself willingly to the taste of Katniss…an eternity could have passed—and he couldn’t give a flying fuck.

The knock came abruptly.

“Peeta! Get your ass out here!” It was Bran. “We’re meeting up at Beetee’s for beers!”

“I forgot that our parents demanded that we spend the night apart before the wedding,” Katniss said. “Prim and Johanna should be here any minute.”

“Of course,” he replied as they pulled apart.

Hesitantly, Peeta walked backward towards the door, his gaze on her.

She raised a brow at him. “What?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget the sight of you in that gown for the rest of my life.”

Peeta quickly turned to walk out the door before she could even respond.

++++++

Katniss couldn’t sleep.

Next to her, Prim and Johanna were knocked out. Her sister wore a tiara in her tangled locks while Johanna sported a hat with an outrageously large penis. A half-eaten tray of cookies baked by her in-laws laid between the two.

It was while watching The Wedding Date that they had drifted off. However, sleep did not come for her so Katniss remained awake, tense in the thoughts of tomorrow.

Getting up, Katniss reached for a sweater from the closet, carefully leaving the bedroom so she wouldn’t disturb her sister and friend.

She couldn’t breathe…she just needed to get out.

That’s how Katniss found herself walking down the stairs onto the main floor and into the backyard.

The sight before her almost brought her to her knees.

White chairs had already been set out for the ceremony; a good number of friends and neighbors were excited to attend. To each side of the apartment building, long buffet tables were set up as Annie’s staff would be arriving midday to set up for the reception. At the end of the right side was a singular table for the wedding cake.

It was unbelievable how it had all fallen together.

She continued down the aisle and towards the lush flower archway where the ceremony would take place. Haymitch had set up a platform before it so that Beetee, who had volunteered as officiant, would have a place to stand before them.

At the end of the aisle, Katniss settled on the steps of the platform, looking around.

It was exactly the kind wedding she had dreamt of—except in her dreams, she wasn’t drowning in guilt.

A breeze hit and she wrapped her sweater tighter around herself and let out a breath.

“How the hell did I get here?”

“I was about to ask myself the same question.”

Peeta.

He made his way down, smartly wearing a puffer jacket and not the flimsy crap that she had donned.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked as he joined her on the step.

“Nope.” Peeta looked out at the scene before him. “I couldn’t sleep after all the marriage advice our dads and Haymitch decided to give me…by the end, it was extremely graphic.”

“Gross.” Her head went to his shoulder. “So…tomorrow?”

“It’s after midnight so more like a few hours from now,” he replied.

“I wish it could’ve been different.”

The admission had come out suddenly.

“How?” he asked after a moment.

“Like we would have actually been dating and then you do the whole shebang—tell me how deeply you’re in love with me and get down on one knee.” She sighed. “Isn’t that how all love stories are supposed to happen?”

“I think love stories are what a couple makes of them,” Peeta said.

“And, how do you think our story would’ve gone?”

“I’m not sure.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I just know that I would love you till there was no breath left in my body.”

Katniss swallowed the sob threatening to escape her lips.

“That’s all anyone could really ask for—someone till the end.”

“Ride or die,” Peeta agreed.

She snorted. “How very Fast and the Furious of you.”

Tell him.

The treacherous thought screamed in her brain, but her logical—fearful—thoughts fought it. Her heart couldn’t bear the thought that he might not feel the same, that they would hurt each other, and that she would lose him.

So instead, Katniss pulled away.

“I better go up. Prim and Johanna might sleep eat all your parents’ cookie and choke to death. That would be a real bummer on the wedding.”

Peeta nodded. “I’m just going to spend a few more minutes here.”

They reached for one another, their mouths meeting, and Katniss pressed everything she felt into that kiss—the happiness, the fear, the pain—but most of all, the love.

When they pulled apart, Peeta’s eyes were closed, a smile on his lips. “Wow.” He met her eyes. “I’ll see you at the end.”

Katniss stood. “I’ll see you at the end.”

Shakily, she made her way down the aisle and was halfway through when—

“Katniss?”

She whirled around to see Peeta staring at her.

“Sunset. It’s my favorite part of the day. Our families and friends would be there. I probably wouldn’t get down on one knee though—”

“Because you have a trick knee from a track injury,” she said. “And, your favorite color is that orange that happens to the sky at sunset. I wore—”

“You wore that dress on our first date because it resembled the color,” he finished for her. Her breath caught seeing that look in his eyes. “And, you looked beautiful—but well to me, you were always gorgeous, inside and out.”

Katniss managed a smile. “Goodnight, Peeta.”

“Sleep well, Katniss.”

But, for the rest of the night, sleep did not come.

++++++

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…”

Katniss was getting married today.

Okay—not really married, but really recommitting herself in front of her friends and family.

Not to mention, the film and camera crew her parents hired.

Prim and Johanna had given her a few minutes to herself so that she could settle her nerves. Her hands moved over the skirt, smoothing non-existent wrinkles.

She made a picturesque bride; her makeup had been done perfectly, just some eyeliner, lipstick, and concealer because Effie had almost fainted at the dark circles under her eyes. Her mother and Daphne had sprayed and pinned the pearl clip into her hair before putting one more ‘protective’ layer of hairspray—a bird could crap on her head and the stuff would probably slide off from the slickness of her locks.

Johanna had given her a NuBra to wear and Katniss chuckled knowing that Peeta would have more than likely insisted on removing it.

There was a knock on the door. “Katniss, are you ready?”

It was her Dad.

She rushed to open the door and her father stepped in, looking rather dapper in his tuxedo.

“My God, sweetheart,” he breathed. “You’re a dream.”

Katniss looked at him nervously. “Really?”

“Okay, it’s kind of my nightmare. I’ve been dreading this moment for twenty-four years,” her dad admitted. “But your mother and I couldn’t be happier. You picked a good one.”

Katniss nodded in agreement. “I really did.”

Her father held out his arm. “You ready?”

Taking a deep breath, she took his arm. “Let’s do this.”

++++++

Stepping out into the backyard, Katniss let out a breath, a tremble rushing through her at seeing the number of guests.

Together, she and her father began their walk. Somewhere—violinists?—her mother’s influence she was sure, played ‘La vie en rose’ as they made their way down the silk carpet sprinkled with pale pink rose petals.

Her eyes went to the guests; Cinna had come all the way from New York while she saw that some of her parents’ colleagues had made their way over from Connecticut, as well. Closer to the front, Katniss saw Wiress—invited by Beetee as his date—who gave her a bright smile. Thresh, who stood next to Glimmer, was eyeing the pretty blonde.

Her eyes watered seeing Effie and Haymitch. Effie immediately burst into tears seeing Katniss in her gown and she thought how her landlord must be imagining what might have been for her and Haymitch—if life had been fair on them. Haymitch with his protective nature would have made an outstanding father and she had no doubts about Effie’s maternal instincts.

Katniss realized how much she had come to love them like family.

Then, there were the Odairs; Finnick looking dapper in his navy suit while Jack matched him perfectly with his own miniature version. Annie had recovered nicely from pregnancy, beautiful and glowing with Sarah and Rose in her arms.

Johanna and Prim were her bridesmaids, wearing sage green dresses and matching chignons. They both beamed seeing her. Bran and Alex made dashing groomsmen in their grey tuxedos, each swoonworthy in their own right.

Then, there was Peeta.

Katniss couldn’t help but tremble at the sight of him.

“You okay there?” Stephen asked his daughter, feeling her shiver.

“Yes, just more nervous than I thought,” she replied.

He chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“How can you be nervous when you have a man looking at you like that?”

And, yes—Peeta looked unbelievably handsome, wearing a suit matching the charcoal of her eyes.

However, it was the look in those blues of his—that earnest, full look that made her feel like she was floating on air.

Peeta stepped forward and her father embraced him before taking both their hands to clasp them between his own.

He looked between them. “Take care of each other.”

Quickly, her father joined his mother’s side.

Her eyes went to Peeta’s, who grasped her hand. “You okay?”

“Are we really doing this?” she asked as they stepped up the platform where Beetee waited.

“Whatever happens,” Peeta said, his eyes already knowing her thoughts. “I’m with you.”

Her hand went to cheek. “Just trust me.”

“Of course.” He turned to press a gentle kiss into her palm. “Always.”

They both turned to her guests.

“We have something to say,” Katniss began.

“Can’t this wait?” her mother asked.

“No…no…” They stepped down from the platform as Katniss shook her head. “We can’t.”

“What is going on?” Daphne said tightly. “Are you having second thoughts? It’s a little late for that. You two are already married.”

“No, Mom.” Peeta looked to her and she nodded. “We lied to you…to everyone. We’re not…actually…married.”

“You see,” Katniss started. “My lease was up at my last apartment and Peeta couldn’t afford his since his roommate was going to be leaving. Then, we both just happened to see this ad for this wonderful apartment—”

“Except that tenants had to be married and so we told them we were,” Peeta finished. “We made up this fake love story and took pictures at City Hall. And, it just snowballed when everyone showed up and you all planned this beautiful wedding.”

Katniss’ gaze went to Effie and Haymitch, their expressions unreadable, and she felt her heart squeeze in pain.

She and Peeta betrayed them and they would most likely never forgive them.

“And, we just couldn’t bear to hurt all of you,” she said. “Because we fell in love with you.”

Finnick furrowed his brow from his seat. “Me? Sorry guys, but I’m taken.”

Katniss choked back her laugh. “Not you! Well, kind of you and Annie…and just everyone.” Peeta squeezed her hand. “We grew to love every one of you and you became family to us. This building, all of you—you are home to us.”

“But, what about you two?” Her father asked. “You’re not in a relationship?”

“That’s kind of tricky.” Her eyes went to Peeta’s. “But the point is that the marriage was not real…we’re…not real.”

There was silence.

A long silence.

Somewhere there was the faint sound of an ambulance—probably coming just in case there was bloodshed.

“Bullshit.”

Katniss shot up in shock. “Excuse me?”

Annie looked her straight in the eyes.

“Bull. Shit.” She shifted, handing Sarah to Finnick, who had just made Jack cover his ears. “Hold on.” Annie adjusted Rose against her chest, undoing the buttons of her dress before guiding the baby to her nipple. “Okay, I’m ready to continue. It is absolute bullshit that you two aren’t honest-to-God in love!”

“Annie, I’m honestly having a hard time computing your words with your boob hanging out,” Katniss retorted.

“Well, I’m feeding my child, Katniss,” Annie argued. “Because I love her and that’s what you do for people you love. You take care of them—just like you and Peeta take care of each other.”

“You know…” She and Peeta turned to Beetee in front of the archway. “She does have a point.”

“You too?” Peeta replied incredulously.

“Actually, we all find it surprising that you’re not in love with one another,” Christopher informed them.

“We do like each other,” Peeta assured him.

Daphne shot up. “You’re lying!” She pointed an accusing finger at her son. “I know you, Peeta. I knew you were lying when you were eight and told me that the neighbors’ dog ate your father’s birthday cake and I know you’re lying now about not being in love with Katniss.”

“Mom, I think there’s a big difference between eight-year-old me and me now,” Peeta responded.

“You were a better liar before,” Bran pointed out with a smirk.

“It’s all over your adorable Mellark face,” Alex said.

Peeta turned to her, his complexion pink at his family’s blunt assessment of his feelings.

“You know I care for you, right?” he asked.

Katniss took his hand. “Of course, I do.”

Peeta started, his gaze on their joined hands and something shifted in his stare.

He suddenly shook his head, letting out a small laugh.

“I really am an idiot.” Peeta looked to her, his eyes warm. “Katniss, I am in love with you.”

Katniss felt her chest constrict at his words. “What?”

“I think about how after this you’re not going to be next to me when I wake up in the morning—”

“Aww,” Prim cooed.

“And, those nights when we’re in bed—”

“Yeah, nobody needs to hear the details,” Stephen interrupted.

“But the point is that I want you in my life,” Peeta said. “I want to be with you for as long as you’ll possibly have me.”

Katniss stood silent, her hand dropping from his grasp, as those last words fell from his lips.

“Katniss Everdeen!” Her mother stood from her seat. “Say something.”

Peeta loved her.

And then, as sudden as a flash of lightning, she realized what she wanted.

“Effie, Haymitch.” Katniss looked to her landlords, she and Peeta’s practically surrogate parents. “Do you forgive us?”

The couple look at one another, communicating silently, before turning to them as she held her breath.

“We do,” Haymitch said finally.

“However, you can only stay in your apartment…” Effie’s lips rose in a small smile. “…if you continue on with the ceremony.”

Katniss turned to Peeta, taking his hand once more. With her other hand, she lifted the skirt of her gown.

“What are you doing?” Peeta asked.

Slowly, Katniss knelt, going on one knee in this gown seemed impossible but she was making it happen, before him. “It’s sunset.” Her eyes went to everyone in front of them. “And, we’re with our family and friends…and I love you. So, Peeta, will you?”

After a moment, Peeta replied, a wide grin on his lips, “Get up here so we can finish this.”

Carefully, they got Katniss to her feet before joining Beetee in front of the archway.

Beetee looked between them. “You two realize that this isn’t an official ceremony, right?”

She and Peeta look to one another, before nodding at Beetee.

It was real enough for them.

End of Part Four

Next: One year later…

Right now, I’m a glass case of emotion.

I’ll see you at the epilogue.

-JLaLa

#Rent Control #Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #Part Four #any guesses on what happens in the epilogue?

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littlemisskookie · 6 years

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Langour

Langour Ship: Hoseok | Reader Description: Hoseok’s got a lust-driven thirst for his step sister. Warning: Step-Siblings!AU, Incest Sorta? Impregnation Kink, Somnophilia, PWP, Dub-Con? Dirty Talk, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Oral, Fingering, Intercourse, Handjob Word Count: 3,387 A/N: I’m sooooo going to hell for this I’ve never seen anyone write this particular kink s h i t.

There's an unspoken but clear rule that everyone knows about family- and one that Hoseok seemed to have broken.

Family doesn't look at family with lust.

More precisely, Hoseok happened to look at his sister with lust. Even more precisely, his step-sister.

Sure, it wasn't incest- but considering the fact that you two lived together and shared the same parents, it was wrong nonetheless. He couldn't help it, though- it was as though you were enticing him with your mere presence.

Hoseok hadn't thought too much about when his father's girlfriend said yes to the proposal. He was happy for his father actually- the man had been lonely and sad ever since Hoseok's mother died years ago. He had never seen his old man so happy. He liked the new woman anyway- she was very liberal and down to Earth, being open-minded.

He didn't think much either when he found out she had a daughter.

"Eleanore's got a daughter about your age, you know," his father commented after a few dates with said Eleanore. Hoseok was a mere teenager at the time, at the peak of his hormones and being flooded with school work. It wasn't as though he had much time to think about the possibility of a step-sister.

But when you moved in... that's when things changed.

You were fun to be around, but he could never quite get comfortable with you. Sure, he was at ease, but it wasn't familial ease. It wasn't even quite the friend-type of ease- there seemed to always be a tension between you two, so thick it could be cut with a knife. He had a feeling you could sense it, too. It wasn't that you two weren't fond of each other- it was the opposite.

It was as though Hoseok had fallen into a trap. He was a teenager, it was natural for him to be horny and lustful over any girl his age who wasn't related to him by blood. It didn't help when you snuck out of the shower, hair slicked back and wet, water droplets rolling down your skin, and a small towel pressed daintily against your body. Or when he'd call you down for dinner only to see you prancing around in your ridiculously short shorts, and on occasion, underwear.

He remembered what shame he felt when he clasped his hand over his mouth, biting down on his fist as he jerked off to the memory of you pinned down by another man against the wall, his chest pressed against yours so tightly that your toes barely grazed the ground. Hoseok felt seething jealousy- though he disguised it instead as brotherly anger. He had marched himself over to the two of you, shoving the guy off of you. "Get away from my little sister" and bullshit like that. Though he's never thought of you as a sister. Not once.

What made him stop in his tracks, lungs constricted from oxygen, is when he turned around to face you, his nostrils flaring and his eyes practically bulging out of their eye sockets. Your lipstick was smeared, lips swollen and cheeks rosy. Your eyes had a blown out appearance to them, practically black with how dilated they were. Your hooded gaze had fallen onto Hoseok, and at that moment he felt as though someone had knocked all of the air out of his body.

"You should stay away from creeps like that, Y/N," Hoseok scolded, chastising you. "Hell, isn't that the guy who's been sliding into your DMs? What do you want with a jerk like that? What do you see in him, anyway?"

You simply gave him a sultry look, a smirk on your lips as you gave him that innocent shrug. "I guess I just like guys who take what they want."

God, how those words sent Hoseok ablaze. He was always the kind of guy who respected women- respected anyone, really. He didn't cross boundaries and was cautious and tenacious. He considered himself a feminist and was disgusted with some of the acts he'd hear about on the news and such.

However, he had never suspected a woman would actually like that behavior. Maybe it was the confidence of it all that had you attracted to it, but it left him hard in the middle of the night, only able to jerk off to the sight of your swollen and glossy lips along with your dangerous gaze. Fuck, and to think you were peacefully sleeping on the other side of the wall, your rooms connected to one another.

He could forgive himself for that, though. He was a teenager- it was bound to happen to a degree, especially since he never considered you a sister.

But now he was an adult.

And he still wanted to fuck your brains out.

God, if his stepmother and father knew, they'd shit a brick. He had no doubt you knew, though. You'd tease him, often, it seems. Your smile was too coy to be innocent, brushing against him as you passed by, your ass pressed against his crotch. You'd grin from ear to ear whenever you'd ask him to hold onto your waist and balance you as you tried to reach something on the top shelf, on your tiptoes as you balanced on a stool. Hoseok would always try to look down, your short and inviting skirt giving him glimpses of the black lace you wore underneath. It took a lot of self-control for him to keep himself from throwing himself at you whenever you strutted about the house in the skimpiest clothes you could find. You'd meet his glares with sharp giggles.

What a tease.

There was one night, though, when it all snapped. You two were watching a movie. Your parents have fallen asleep due to their older age. You had a habit of snuggling against him, as though for warmth, but Hoseok always felt so tense. He couldn't imagine you actually felt comfortable.

There was a certain scene in the movie where the man had snuck into the woman's room, feeling her up and kissing against her neck as she slept.

Hoseok grimaced. "Isn't that... wrong?"

What a stupid question.

You shrugged in response, your eyes trained on the glowing screen. "I dunno- I think it's kind of hot."

Hoseok tensed at that, his muscles tight. "What about that is hot? It's sexual assault."

"It's called somnophilia, Hoseok. Look it up. And I wouldn't want just anyone to do it to me- I'd kick them in the face. I think I'd be ok with it, though, if it were someone I trusted."

"To each their own, I suppose," Hoseok murmured quietly. He had never pictured you as the type to have a kink or fetish like that, but you still managed, to this day, to surprise him. As he thought about it, too, he could picture how you could get turned on from the idea. He didn't think he'd feel comfortable with putting his dick in an unconscious person, though.

Hoseok's breath hitched when he felt your hand on his knee. You were hesitant, waiting a few seconds to observe his response through the light of the people having sex onscreen. "You know I trust you, right?"

Hoseok didn't know how to respond to what you were insinuating. However, you dismissed that worry from his mind, as though knowing he wouldn't want to directly answer.

You sat up, stretching your arms as your mouth went agape. Letting out a yawn, you rubbed your sleepy eyes. "I think I'm gonna hit the sack. Night, Hobi."

Hoseok watched you walk away, his eyes trailing after you, gaze firmly planted on your rear as you sauntered out of sight. He couldn't believe what had just happened, and as his mind filled with ideas and questions, he looked down only to realize that his body had also reacted to the vixen that was you.

Shit.

Needless to day, Hoseok was restless that night. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to so much as close his eyes. Why was it you had this effect on him? Why you, of all people? Why did he have to be so goddamn attracted to his step-sister? It was driving him mad.

He debated in his head whether to do something about it and finally sleep with you, or to pretend as though it never happened.

He was starting to seriously consider the former when he heard something.

His name.

Someone from the other side of the wall was moaning his name. Your voice rang out, light and airy, and though there was no doubt your sleeping parents wouldn't be able to hear, Hoseok sure as hell did.

His name spilled from your mouth in breathy moans, small groans and whimpers tumbling out, and Hoseok strained to hear. It was as though he were possessed, getting up from his bed to open the door to your room, though it was already slightly ajar. He had suspected something like you masturbating with a vibrator or toy in hand, but instead, he found you sound asleep, your body moving reactively to whatever wet dream you were having.

You were having wet dreams about Jung fucking Hoseok.

He felt his throat get tight, and though he was undeniably aroused at the moment, he wanted to deny the temptation. He couldn't- you were asleep- he was your brother-

"I guess I just like guys who take what they want."

Hoseok felt as though he wasn't even in control of his own actions at this point. He found himself climbing into bed, slithering between your legs, and his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties.

This is wrong, this is so wrong, he thought to himself as he slid them down your legs, throwing them to the side. He was about to get up to leave when you gave another moan.

"Fuck, Hoseok, please, please touch me."

He felt his hard-on throb with need at that, and he took in a deep breath, your wetness and feminine scent clouding his train of thought. Slowly he slid down to lay on his belly, his head between your thighs as he pushed them further apart. He could see your pussy barely glistening in the dark, and he felt as though he were a starved man tempted with delicacies before him. There was no other accurate description.

Tentatively, he licked a stripe up your glistening cunt, the sweet flavor of your slick on his tastebuds making him want to devour you whole. His eyes rolled back, and despite the fact he had gotten a mere taste, he felt as though he were in heaven. This was enough jerk off material for years, no doubt about that. You tasted too goddamn sweet.

He licked you again, spreading you with two fingers as the flat of his tongue pressed against your clit. You mewled, writhing beneath him, your thighs tensing at his sides. He found himself gradually getting firmer as you coated his tongue, the greedy muscle occasionally dipping into your sopping hole. His lips pressed and kissed the folds, tongue causing wet, lewd, and sloppy sounds to fill the room. He enjoyed how your moans would get low and more groan-like at that, and when his tongue twirled around your clit you would become more breathy and whimper-like.

You began to tense more as his tongue lashed out, becoming more punishing with how loud your moans were. Chanting his name, he couldn't get enough. He slipped two fingers into your glistening heat, a come-hither motion making it easy for him to find your g-spot. You were unraveling, your thighs clamping together around his head as you felt yourself come undone, a violent orgasm wrecking throughout your body as Hoseok continued his harsh motions, the searing pain as he continued causing undeniable pleasure.

When you came down from your high, your body went limp, your skin glistening with sweat. Hoseok saw your eyes peer down at his, your chest rising and falling with each deep breath you took, your mind dazed from drowsiness and the lust-filled haze.

Hoseok kept his eyes locked with yours before pressing his tongue flat against your clit, toying with the swollen nub once more. You cringed from overstimulation, hands flying down to grasp onto his locks as your thighs instinctively locked him in. "Mmf, Hoseok."

Hoseok gave you one more strong lick, enjoying how you shuddered beneath him, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He came up, between your legs as he caged you between his arms, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. "Did you have a nice dream, Y/N?"

You nodded slowly, looking at him with hooded eyes. He was shirtless at the moment, wearing nothing but sweatpants. You reached out, palming the prominent bulge beneath the fabric. "Do you even have to ask?"

Hoseok grinned at that, his eyes darkening as he saw you waiting intently, eyes peering up at him as though to wonder what his next move will be. "You came pretty hard, there. What will Mom and Dad say to know I'm corrupting my little sister?"

"Why don't you corrupt me further?" you questioned, spreading your legs alluringly, your pulsating heat beckoning to him once more. "You still need to be taken care of."

"Fucking shit," Hoseok hissed as you pulled his dick out from beneath his sweatpants and briefs, stroking him slowly. You stopped for a moment to reach down, swiping your fingers through your copious arousal and twirling the little nub, moaning a bit. Your fingers dipped into your puckered hole, coating the small digits further in your arousal and the leftover result of your previous orgasm. You slid your fingers back up, swiping them through the folds and letting them graze over your clit before you wrapped the hand back around Hoseok's cock, your juices mixing along with the pearls of precum that circled the tip of Hoseok's cock.

"We could've been doing this years ago if you weren't so scared," you whispered, cocking your head to the side. "I've waited long enough. I can't wait for you to wreck me."

He moaned, shuddering as you continued to prep him, lubricating him thoroughly. He swiped your hand away quickly, however, wanting to get to the real deal. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you, baby. No other man will be able to perfectly wreck you the way I will."

"Fuck me, big brother," you said, arching your back and lifting your hips in the air so your entrance can meet with the tip of his cock. You circled your hips in the air enticingly before Hoseok grabbed onto your hips, slamming you back down into the mattress as he pushed inside of you.

Both of you moaned as your walls enveloped around him, and you hissed at the delicious burn of his cock stretching your walls further. He began to move, bucking his hips against yours as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He kept himself above you, his elbows acting as his support as he was careful not to crush you. It was good that he was caging you in, however, because the velocity of his thrusts threatened to have your head bang against the headboard. There was no doubt there'd be bruises on your pelvis by the time this was over.

Your feet reached towards the sky, heels to heaven as you arched your back beneath him. Hoseok licked against your neck, collecting the salt, as though his tongue was a paintbrush and your skin was the canvas. You grabbed onto his face to eagerly mash his mouth against yours, tongues twirling together in a sloppy kiss. You could still taste remnants of yourself on his lips.

It's odd to think that you two have gone this far, and yet this moment was actually your first kiss together. Right as he was drilling into you at a brutal pace, his sharp pelvic bone causing just enough friction and applying just enough pressure as it rubbed against your throbbing clit. You could feel your body shake, your walls clenching around him as your second orgasm approached, but you wanted him to come too.

Sensing that you were close, Hoseok hitched your legs up, your heels on his shoulders as your feet dangled beside his head. He leaned forward, the angle allowing him to penetrate you deeper, and you felt your eyes rolling back. You were beginning to convulse around him from the intense sensations of your approaching orgasm, but you kenw you wouldn't be satisfied with just that. You wanted to feel the soreness between your legs the night after, knowing each moment you moved that the cause of it was because your brother had snuck inot your room to plow into your tight cunt. More than that, though, you wanted to feel him fill you up with so much cum you were practically overflowing.

"Cum in me, Hoseok," you begged. "I'm so, so close. I want to feel you inside me from this moment to when I wake up in the morning- mark me as yours."

That seemed to do it. Hoseok's eyes rolled back as he let out a few more sloppy thrusts. Your heels dug into his ass as you pulled him close to you, his last few strokes having your orgasm spread throughout your body, intense as it bloomed from your crotch to the tips of your fingertips.

You were panting heavily, and Hoseok's arms shook as he tried to stay upright instead of falling on top of you, though he looked worn out from both the orgasm and the exercise.

You grinned at him, knowing all too well the worrisome look on his face. Instead, you helped him roll over, sitting on top of him as you planted a wet kiss against his mouth.

"You filled me up so good, baby," you whispered in his ear. "I'm going to keep this in me all night. If I weren't on birth control, you would've gotten me pregnant. You filled me up that much- it's spilling out of me already."

"God, you're dirty," Hoseok said, enjoying the way you spoke teasingly and erotically, pulling you down for another kiss. "Imagine what our parents would think if they knew what a dirty girl you were."

"They'd be horrified to know you knocked me up. I'd be so swollen and full, my breasts filled with milk, and they'd know you corrupted their precious baby girl," you smiled, feeling up your breasts as though you could already sense how tender they were. "Our kid would be so precious, huh? So pretty and handsome- just like you. All because you fucked me like an animal."

"You're the filthiest girl I've ever met. I should've fucked you sooner," he said, groping your ass, feeling the full flesh of it as he palmed you thoroughly.

"Daddy always said I should find a decent guy once in a while. I doubt he'd say his own son wasn't decent," you giggled, sliding off the bed to go to the restroom, feeling quite content despite what others would perceive as very wrong.

You still had that after-sex glow in the morning, despite how many hours had passed. Your family was having breakfast, and though you and Hoseok had done your best to remain inconspicuous, the passing stares and glances towards one another would be obvious to anyone who was paying attention.

Hoseok had returned to his own room after the sexual encounter, not wanting your parents ot be suspicious. The two of you had yet to talk about it in the morning, but judging from your teasing smirk and glinting eyes, you most certainly didn't regret it. In fact, you seemed content on teasing him.

You also happened to be purposefully brushing your foot against his leg, just to tease him. It was fun seeing him so uncomfortable and riled up, it made you laugh, evidently. Hoseok gave you a passing glare at the audacity of your boldness, but you batted your eyes demurely in response, acting innocent as always.

Your mother looked between the two of you and sighed, taking a sip of her morning coffee. "I do hope you two used protection."

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oveliagirlhaditright · 4 years

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My dark Kairi story/KHIV story chapter four: “I Do Not Fear Death”. World: PotC’s Dead Men Tell No Tales.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456412/chapters/62293999

Author’s Note: So… I think I decided with the Enchanted chapter—and am carrying it over with the rest of this story—that the Disney worlds aren’t going to be one-to-one what happens in their movies, since KH was at its best when it didn’t do that (like with KH1).

Also… when I was first reading this chapter, I felt like Pip wasn’t in it enough—so I kept adding in scenes—but upon editing it, I realize he’s in it TOO much and it’s kind of annoying… But I felt like I couldn’t really cut the scenes out. Like, I decided right when he was about to meet Riku, that he’d been in it enough and that I wasn’t going to have him in it the rest of the chapter… but then I realized I meant to have an introduction between him and Riku right there—and I didn’t want to risk forgetting to do that later, if I left it out here—so I had to change my mind about that. So… just suffer with it in this chapter, I guess (I’m sorry:(). And hopefully it shouldn’t be this bad in the future ones.

Swallow Chapter Four: I Do Not Fear Death

Sora’s PoV

'Kairi... I can feel that you’re looking for me', Sora thought, alone in his prison in a certain place. 'I'm... somewhat worse off than I even was in that Game now... But I know you'll find me. And thanks for never giving up on me.”

And having thought everything he needed to at the moment, Sora succumbed to the familiar lull of sleep again and dreamed of life…

Kairi’s PoV

In order to be strong, Kairi went to one of the hardest worlds she’d heard of from Sora: the Caribbean/

And while she should have been happy about the connection, she'd perhaps found to Sora in the last world... the Princess of Heart couldn't help looking back at what she’d done in Faith and Angel’s world, and only feeling despair. She felt horrible about how she'd treated Angel—and Kairi feared that she still might be led to do that same sort of thing, and it scared her. And she wanted to apologize—but there was nothing she could do about it now. Especially not when Pip was shivering in Kairi's pocket in discomfort, obviously feeling her intense emotions too strongly. So Kairi decided to instead focus on the matter at hand.

And the moment Kairi did just that, she thought that something was wrong... because there were no pirate flags on the sea at all?

"Do you think this can possibly be the Caribbean then, Pip? Given the story I just gave you about this place?" Kairi asked her new friend, who was stroking his chin thoughtfully at her question.

How Kairi wished that Riku was here with her, to help make sense of things (and Sora)... because despite their somewhat rocky relationship, they were still (sadly) closer now than they had been in years…

And Kairi'd so very nearly called Riku, just before she'd heard from Sora in Giselle’s world... but how could she have, when her lust and jealousy had led to a “Heartless version” of Sora there? Surely Riku would have been disgusted by her actions again…

But Kairi opted to not think of any of that now... Instead, she focused on that she was near a bell, that Sora had perhaps described to her once. So, this was Port Royal, then? And the reason there were no pirate ships nearby was because they would be shot on sight, and the pirates hanged for their crimes?

Before Kairi could think about any of her questions much more, she heard a massive ruckus and turned her attention that way. It seemed that the people here were trying to execute a girl about her age?!

Kairi felt her blood boil for that, as she remembered how women had been treated in some places Sora had told her about: worlds so bad, that he hadn't even wanted to think about them. But with how much Sora loved this place, it couldn't have been one of those. Could it?

"Whoa, Kairi!" said Pip, as he jumped onto her shoulder now. "I can literally feel you getting redder in your anger. Calm down, alright?"

"S-sorry!"

But if Kairi was being honest with herself? She now hated this stammering, uncertain version of herself, too. Perhaps her being anyone was just a lose-lose situation, then…

"Pip, we've got to go save that woman!" Kairi shouted, as she ripped at her dress from New York, so she could better run and fight in it. "Time is of the essence!"

"You don't have to tell me twice!"

And Kairi ran towards the guillotine in the town square. And even from far away, Kairi took in the book the woman was holding—that looked like it had stars on it... stars like the worlds—and prayed that this lady could help her find Sora.

...

The first thing Kairi saw when she was in a sea of people that made her feel very anxious, was that Captain Jack Sparrow was also being tried! It had to be him, based on Sora's descriptions, Kairi thought. The man before her had somewhat dark skin, with eyeliner around his brown eyes and above his mustache and a slight beard? Those were all descriptions that Kairi had heard for Jack. The princess also noticed his dreadlocks, clothes that tried to be fashionable despite being tattered, and his ridiculously large hat.

Kairi ran towards him instantly, and cut off the guillotine that was now mysteriously hanging from his neck. But she knew she wouldn't be thanked for it.

"Come on, Mister Sparrow!" Kairi cried, as she took his hand in hers and began leading him away. "Let us save that woman—and the boy who’s with her?—and be on our way!"

"…That's a fascinating sword you have there, missy. You wouldn’t happen to be a Bonnie Lass of Zola’s, would you? And if you are… by God, you and your lot haven’t aged a day.” Jack spoke to Kairi, as he punched a guard here and ducked under soldiers there, all while apparently examining Destiny’s Embrace.

And while Kairi wanted to be annoyed that he would just assume she was Sora's girlfriend because she had a Keyblade like he did, she was too busy to debate him.

Because a boy who had a light much like Sora's, was about to get a sword through the heart for trying to aid the girl in the blue dress! And Kairi had seen enough pure-hearted boys die, thank you very much... even if she had also been close to killing one herself.

The Light threw herself between the boy and girl, and the ten lances that were coming their way. And she thought that if she died this way, at least she'd go out a hero like Sora had... and maybe she'd even be put out of her misery and get to see him in some sort of afterlife.

But just when Kairi thought it was over for her, because she felt some blades going through her even as she tried to dodge them, she was pulled up and over them... and lived, and joined the ragtag group that had just formed.

And Kairi was eager to follow the older man who had just joined them, telling the group—Captain Jack in particular—that he had the Pearl just before them that they could board, but of course Heartless had to show up at that exact moment... and the nasty Neoshadows, too.

"Oh, fine!" the brunette bellowed as she began to impressively attack the overly-large Shadows with the chains that had bound her—all while Kairi used a quick cure spell on herself, and used aeroga to send some of their enemies flying away from them--"I see you want to grab at me just like men do, and I will give you the award that I do to them."

The boy who was not unlike Sora to Kairi, blushed—as if thinking the woman was talking about him?—and informed her to, "Focus on the fighting right now, Miss Carina," as he kicked at some of the Heartless.

Jack, meanwhile, was stabbing them through their stomachs.

And Mister Gibbs—Kairi was assuming it was Mister Gibbs, anyway—was hitting some over the head with the butt of his sword. But even with all of this, they were getting nowhere fast with the Heartless and the soldiers.

So Kairi put a barrier around herself and her new friends—so nothing could get to them as they ran—and the moment they were aboard the boat, she was instantly demanding answers from Captain Jack. "You- you were right. I am Sora's girlfriend... and he's been lost. Do you think there's anything here that might save him? Especially since he was sort of lost to the sea? Because my name means that... and he died for me."

Jack looked at Kairi with sympathy, she could see, but it was the girl in the blue dress—Carina—who answered Kairi as she seemed to size her up in an excited manner. "The Trident of Poseidon will serve you well, I think, and I'll help you find it. I'm trying to use it to find my father, and Henry is trying to get it to free his own, who is supposedly the Captain of the Flying Dutchman."

Kairi was about to go talk to Henry at this news, but she didn't know if she would've been ecstatic to talk to this son of Will and Elizabeth or not, since those two’s story was so similar to hers and Sora’s, but Kairi didn’t even get the chance to find out how she would have felt, because Mister Gibbs cut off any conversation post-hate, as Jack glared at him. "We will not be going after any legendary artifacts today. It's more than enough that I have Jack here at all, given his bad luck and lack of pulling any weight lately. And I won't be making any of it worse, by repeating the past.”

Almost immediately, Captain Jack Sparrow jumped in to argue, saying, "But we need to, mate, to stop Salazar. You remember his horrendousness from what I've told you, aye? Help me defeat him, and there may be an old magic compass in there for you."

And while those two were fighting over that, Pip jumped onto Kairi’s head and began fighting for her sake, just as it looked like two other male pirates had been about to? "Yo, old man,” said Pip. “Listen to the ladies—and who I'm assuming is your captain—here. For one thing, Kairi's been through enough and deserves her boyfriend back."

But unfortunately, no one was taking Pip seriously... as the captain looked at him with the most displeased look Kairi had ever seen, and deadpanned: "Great. Something else like the monkey Jack."

Kairi sensed that her friend was upset for being so easily dismissed—and she wanted to be there for him, like he just had been for her... but she was too busy making sense of something, that almost had her throwing up over the deck... She'd traveled at least twenty years into this world's future... which shouldn't have been possible, because Henry had just been born when Sora was here a year ago... and now he looked like an adult. That must have been what Jack had been getting at earlier. How had she managed to mess up traveling here so badly... or was this a good thing? Had her heart connecting with Sora's led to this?

Still feeling overheated and like she was going to be sick, Kairi ripped more of her brown dress off with one hand while she held onto the railing of the deck with the other. Near instantly, she felt great about how cool she felt and she breathed a sigh of relief, as Pip went back to hiding behind her hair… and Henry put a hand on her shoulder? "Miss, are you okay?" the young-man questioned. And was it Kairi, or did he sound like he'd gotten used to saying that kind of thing lately, with how easily he could have made her swoon if her heart didn’t already belong to Sora?

"I'm fine... I just noticed something. It's no matter.” And if the look Jack was giving her was any indication, he must have guessed the same thing she had... or just thought Sora was the luckiest man in the world, for having such a young-looking girlfriend.

"Anyway, Henry… out of all of us, I get the sense that Mister Gibbs will only listen to where you want to go. So direct us somewhere ‘nice’, I guess. But once we find the Trident, we’re going for it.”

And then Kairi went over to where the man with the fake eye—and his bigger pal—were stationed, to try to figure out how to help man such a ship.

…

It was when Kairi was being reminded (since she’d known some of this stuff from home) that the left side of the ship was the port and the right was the starboard, that Carina joined Kairi on the deck for fresh fruit and regarded her with a smile.

Meanwhile, the pirates Pintel and Ragetti—who Kairi had recently learned the names of—were kindly trying to fish for her.

"You look like you could use some cheer. Jack Sparrow has convinced Mister Gibbs that we do need the Trident, to defeat some fiend named Salazar, so we're headed in the direction I believe it’s in. And here’s how we're going to find it." And Carina pulled out the starry diary that Kairi had spied earlier, but up close she could tell there seemed to be some ruby encrusted into it.

"What is this, exactly?" Kairi questioned, as she sat up from where she’d been sitting so she could see the book better. "Jewels from the earth here? Do you think the Trident was buried under ground where these ar-" But Carina was already shaking her head “no” before Kairi had completely finished asking that question.

And seeming curious about what Kairi was talking about, Pip came to see what was going on. And Carina shook her head at his appearance, in a sort of bemused manner. “Somehow, I can believe about your talking pet here, but not these monsters Henry is blathering about. Anyway... I was left at an orphanage by my father... and he left me this journal. The cover of it represents constellations, and is said to lead to the Trident of Poseidon, and surely my father. And after studying star charts all my life, I know where this constellation is in the sky… and so we’re heading out that way.”

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Kairi queried, as she decided to make herself more useful by swabbing at the deck some. "Wait, actually... what was it you were saying about monsters?"

"She was only speaking of the worst kind," said a voice from beside Kairi's ear. It was Jack... and he seemed grim, as opposed to the usual happy-go-lucky and devil-may-care attitude Kairi had gleaned from him thus far. "Salazar: a ghost who's an enemy of all pirates... including you, lassie."

"A ghost?" Pip asked the question that Kairi had wanted to—and it made her smile--but when she had visions of what this ghost might look like, she definitely didn't smile. He seemed half-human and half-ghost, and parts of his hair and clothes were being torn away from him, into the other realm, as segments of him remained. And that black, villain-type smile from him...

Kairi swallowed, in realizing she felt torn apart like him she was: because didn’t she want to be both a Pure Light and someone who had a cruel heart now?

"You see something, don't you?" Henry asked, as he came up beside Kairi now, clearly having taken in her mystified look. "You see something, the way that I can almost see visions of my parents when I look at you."

Utterly confused, Kairi was about to ask why Henry should see his family when he saw her... but then she thought it must have been because Sora had helped shaped their lives... and she and Sora were very much the same since sharing the paopus. So perhaps that was the reason?

"I-" but just as Kairi began speaking, the nightmare she had just seen came to life as day turned into night: the electrified ghosts appeared out of the ether, and walked through their own ship and onto the Black Pearl. And before Kairi knew it, she was being held captive by Salazar and was the defenseless girl once again.

"You were never the gentleman I was, Sparrow," Salazar drawled in a chilling whisper, that made gooseflesh appear all over Kairi's skin, as she tried to get out of the chokehold he had on her. "So, you surely believed that women on a ship were bad luck. So why do you have two here now? Surely they're liabilities... like this."

"...Please," said Kairi, as a single tear sled from her eyes. "If you really are—or were--just like you say... let me go. I'm not even fifteen yet. And I'm on a mission to save someone..."

And he let her go so fast, that Kairi was first mad she hadn’t tried that same thing on Master Xehanort… But then she was furious that she hadn’t even tried to attack Salazar here, so she charged him now… and swiftly paid the price for it, as Pintel and Ragetti—who had missed everything that was going on, and were happily presenting the fish they’d caught for Kairi—were stabbed through the middle, by Salazar himself and some of his lackeys. And they were coming for the rest of the crew, too, when Jack made the wise decision to careen the ship into an area where you could still see daylight and they were vaporized.

But Salazar, in being far too clever, jumped into the dark ocean with the rest of the crew and disappeared for the time-being, as Kairi ran over to her new friends and tried to heal them again and again and again… but to no avail.

This was what she got for embracing her darkness, wasn’t it? Kairi decided as she cried. Why had she ever thought it was a good idea? And yet… she couldn’t let it go, either. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t fight the type of it that was settling into her veins even now, like a cancer, as it begged her for revenge against that man… and she wanted to comply.

“Salazar won't let such a thing happen again," Jack quietly warned them all, as they already began the horrible price of trying to give the two lost pirates a sea burial… Why did death have to be so final? Kairi pondered whilst she shook all over. "It was an accident on his part. The Pearl's speed—to allow us get close enough to the setting sun, coupled with Salazar's shock… it won’t happen again. When he strikes again, and he will, it’ll be fully at night, and when he feels he’s had enough time to nurse his wounds. So, we must be ready. And I’m sorry that I’ve gotten you all into this.”

There was a side of Kairi that wondered if something else had saved them... Sora had told her that the goddess Calypso had blessed him with the power of the sea always being his—or something like that—and she wondered if Sora had been watching over them, and he’d made the waves carry them away in that moment. But she didn’t say it. Not after her friends Pintel and Ragetti died because of her own stupidity, she certainly didn’t—as she wrapped her arms around her torso and just tried to keep herself together right now.

"We need to get to the Trident of Poseidon now. Forget a day’s rest and all of that," said Henry, with an urgency that Kairi had never seen in him before, but that reminded her again of a certain leader: her Sora. Henry seemed to be speaking when Carina couldn’t here, as she was clearly too shaken to talk of the quest that meant so much to her. Instead, she seemed about to go hide in the captain's cabin… or perhaps in her own head. "It's our only chance against Salazar... because believe you, me, I've faced him before and it will especially be no picnic next time. Perhaps with it, we can free our fathers and they can help.”

In the background, away from all of them now, Mister Gibbs was laughing... but to Kairi, he seemed to be doing so without humor. And as much as it somewhat bothered Kairi that he still clearly didn't want to help out, now that they were in whatever they were in... she also felt bad for him. He hadn't wanted to assist Jack for this very reason, so perhaps he would have been well within his rights to refuse.

"Then get back to following the star charts I gave you,” Carina urged. “I’ll hold lantern light over them, so you can do just that.”

No one objected with what Carina had to say, but rather adhered to her commands… all while Kairi stayed locked in her trauma. It seemed to be the story of her life, and she hated it.

"You should go talk to Carina," Pip tried to persuade Kairi now, as he lovingly braided what was left of her hair. "She seemed spooked."

"I know, I want to," Kairi agreed. "But she's busy helping Jack navigate—because I guess it’s Jack now. Gibbs is too drunk to steer—didn’t you here?"

So Kairi went to speak with Henry instead. Not because she sensed she needed to, or anything like that, but rather because she wanted to. She still felt her furious emotions like a festering disease inside of her—and she thought she might do something stupid, like kill some harmless White Mushrooms if she didn't try to calm herself down.

"Henry," Kairi said, as she got in an assembly line beside him, so they could get done whatever needed to be done while still talking. "Your parents knew my boyfriend Sora... did they ever mention him at all?"

Henry smiled rather bitterly for Kairi's words, and it only took her a moment to realize why. Of course! Will hadn't had a chance to be a large part of Henry's life. How foolish she'd been, to forget that.

"Henry, I'm sorr-"

But he was already lifting a hand up in a sign of peace. "I get it, Kairi. Don't fret. Bad memories just returned to me for a moment there. Forgive me. But, yes: my mother in particular spoke of a strong and kind young-man named Sora who had helped them out. Mother thought he had a true heart... and trusted him much more than she did Jack. "

And if anything could have lifted Kairi’s spirits and made her think she was doing the right thing to try and bring Sora back, it would have been what Henry just said. And so Kairi smiled her own secret grin, and spoke. “…Henry thank you so much for those kind words here. You have no idea what they mean to me. And to return the favor, I’m going to tell you that Sora talked to me about your parents. He said how brave and strong your mother was, and how he was proud of her for that… And he was so sad about what happened to your father, and hated that he had such a fate... hated that your parents did, really. And I know Sora would have loved to meet you like I now am. He probably would have thought that you're a mix of the best parts of both your parents." Kairi knew that she thought that... from what she'd heard about Will and Elizabeth from Sora, anyway.

It was somewhat weird for Kairi to talk about Sora in the past tense in such a way. A few months ago, she would have rebelled against the very idea or it. But the Princess promised herself that she only spoke in such ways now, because she would bring him back.

"…Thank you for that, Miss Kairi. Thank you." And Kairi thought that Henry might have said more—Pip was cutely motioning with his hands that he should—if a ship hadn't rammed into the Pearl that very moment.

Fear stole its way into Kairi’s heart, as she thought Salazar must have been back already… but it wasn’t him.

And then Kairi was flying backwards—nearly over the edge—from where this boat was still ramming itself into the Black Pearl, but she thankfully regained her bearings… and not by grabbing onto the railing, like her weak, past self would have, but by summoning her Keyblade and digging it into the deck, until the Black Pearl had righted itself again.

“Oy! You’re wearing a getup similar to that of those Organizers… wonderful,” Jack moaned from beside Kairi, as he surveyed the scene. The person who now seemed to have everyone aboard’s attention, was the man standing on his decent sized, navy blue ship, who wore sky and snow colored robes large, a strange unicorn mask, and had long and silver hair, much like Riku’s old style.

“Who are you?!” Mister Gibbs demanded, as he glowered across the way at the man with the same colored hair as him. Kairi wondered if he was trying to find a camaraderie with the man, since they arguably seemed to be about the same age, to tell him that that he shouldn’t be acting like this… but Kairi couldn’t be sure. “And can you get your stern out of-“

At those words from Gibbs, Kairi noticed Carina laugh for some reason. But then she quickly became unsettled again, though not as much as she had been in having to admit once and for all that ghosts existed.

“I swear if you’re with The Master of Masters—or Organization XIII, like Captain Jack suspected—I’ll-”

But Kairi was cut off when the man literally threw dolphin Heartless her way. One had even smacked into Kairi’s chest, with its razor-sharp fin, and cut a deep gash into her… this day—for it was nearing day again—just kept getting better and better, and Kairi was fairly certain she was just numb at this point. Oh well.

The redhead slashed at every Heartless she could see—and all of her friends were taking a page from her book; Carina was even bravely hitting them with her shoes—but she wasn’t foolish enough to let the man go without answering her.

“Why would you send dolphin Heartless my way?! I’m assuming you know my name means ‘sea’, and so you’re making a reference here… but does that mean you want to hurt me? I thought your ‘Master’ wanted me to use my anger!” Kairi was taking a shot in the dark here, that he was one of the Master of Masters’ pawns, but she thought that he must be. Since the Master of Masters was the only one (until this guy) who was wearing a robe since they’d defeated the Organization in the Keyblade War.

And in another meeting with the Master of Masters that Kairi had had recently, he had told her that he had five followers… all of which who had an animal motif. Why he had told her this crucial information, Kairi wasn’t sure… but she was starting to make some guesses about it all.

“Because my Master isn’t yet sure what he wants to do with you… Kairi, is it? He says that you often cast a great darkness, but also a great light. If it were me, I’d end the threat that you are now… but he’s gentler than I am, so here I test.” The man’s voice was deep and strong, and it reminded Kairi a lot of what Leon had sounded like in the short time he’d helped to take care of her.

And despite how Kairi had been trying so hard not to cry lately (even after others dying because of her, because sadly… what else was new?), she nearly did here… in learning how much she must have fallen to darkness—for this man to be saying this to her—and she wondered what sort of plan of the Master’s she was allowing to fall into place by being this way.

“But why?!” Kairi demanded. “Why be so wishy-washy about me?! What’s-”

But Kairi didn’t get her answer. The Heartless—that were not truly being defeated by her allies, because only Keyblades could do that—were now using their blades to put holes in the ship. Great.

"Miss, Kairi: can you use that special blade of yours to stop this?” Henry asked, as he plunged a sword through a Heartless’ would-be-heart… but only for it to pop up again beside Jack. Kairi dived over the pirate’s head to stab at it—imagining how Jack may have done this to protect Sora in the past, and thus she was paying him back for protecting her boy—and sighed.

More and more Heartless were coming—though Kairi didn’t get it, since the man didn’t seem to be summoning them… odd—and she was trying to destroy them as fast as she could, before they came back (how were they doing so so fast?!) and made more holes appear in the boat.

She used some of her pearl magic to get rid of ten going towards the Crow’s Nest here (well, as best as she could, anyway, since some of them were flopping away from her attacks as if they were break dancing), and used fire to get at some coming for Carina’s hair, and was about to do a third thing… when a mast fell down and landed on the Pearl. And with the massive injuries the Black Pearl had already sustained, it was now being split in two—while everyone screamed—until…

Until that man teleported onto the center of the wreckage and used a force field to keep the Black Pearl from breaking even more, and to even stitch parts of it back together.

“What are you doing?!” both Jack and Gibbs demanded; the words had very nearly been on Kairi’s lips, too, or at least they would have been if she hadn’t seen where Mister Unicorn was going with this.

“You want me to fight you to prove myself, don’t you? Well, here I am!” Kairi exclaimed, as she stood on opposite ends of the man and readied her Keyblade. “Let’s go!”

But Carina took Kairi by surprise. “No,” she said, as she put a hand on her shoulder and walked past her. “You did enough for us in defeating… those things. Let me do this for you!”

“No!” Kairi protested. But the… the monster—he could be no less to Kairi—had already cast a shield around Carina and himself, so no one could get to them.

Carina was being clever—in trying to find a good place to kick Blue in the shins, it looked like; and was the monster actually giving her a chance to do so?—but it wasn’t enough for Kairi. She summoned Thunder, not even caring that she might strike herself, to try and break the barrier and get Carina out of there.

“Here! Let me at it!” Pip shouted, as he got to the top of said barrier and attempted to clobber it with his paws. “I swear I’m good at things, other than just writing. And I don’t want the lady to get hurt!” And Kairi couldn’t believe that some of what Pip was doing was working… he was creating pressure points on the top of the shield. So, what was this? A power of friendship thing, or-

But Kairi didn’t get to finish that thought—or to warp-strike to the top of it like she would have liked to—because just then the fiend had summoned a Keyblade and stabbed at Carina’s arm. And he severely injured it—blood was sliding down down down her arm, as it seemed about to come off—and Henry was bellowing Carina’s name at this point, as he punched the force over and over again, thus creating more wear in it.

Carina wasn’t one who was helpless, however—not even in situations like this—and Kairi could tell she was going to attempt to press the monster’s eyes back into his skull, as he aimed for her neck, if she didn’t do anything.

And Kairi was sick of this—sick of all of this!—because even though she’d been in and seen horrible wars before, it had never been as brutal as this… the people hadn’t attempted to end each other in such horrible ways. It was so much… too much. And it seemed to Kairi that after Sora had been taken out of the world, all light had died with him.

And so Kairi found herself screaming for unicorn man’s fate—she couldn’t believe it!—just as Jack and Gibbs had decided to try and help Carina, instead of trying to save the sinking Pearl at the moment.

“Carina, no! Stop! Please stop! I don’t- I don’t want this amount of bloodshed, and neither should anyone!” Kairi wailed.

Carina listened to what Kairi had said and stopped—and she wore a look on her face there, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d been about to do, either—and fortunately, Unicorn Man didn’t use Carina’s distractedness as a way to defeat her. Instead, he began to make the barrier dissipate as he bowed to her. “You’ve done well, Princess Kairi. The Master will be most pleased. I’m Ira, by the way.”

But not caring about any of that in the slightest, Kairi found herself leaping into the air so she could get to Carina faster now that she was able to go in that direction… but just as she was, someone was diving down and reaching for Carina, too… and the idiots they were, they couldn’t change their trajectory in time and ended up hitting each other instead of getting to Carina.

And feeling a concussion coming on, as she smashed back down onto the deck—but saw him getting up much easier, and already fixing the sinking boat with his own magic—Kairi couldn’t help feeling irritated with the figure.

“Riku, why are you here?!” she snarled. “Did you not trust me by myself here? I swear I’m fine! You may be messing up our chance to find Sora this way… if he’s sending me to places for me and just me.”

And Kairi felt awful after those words had left her mouth—of course she did; and she thought that if that Ira had still been here, he wouldn’t be giving her his blessing anymore—but she also couldn’t deny it was true. But how horrible had she become, to always be hurting Riku like this (she could see it in his eyes), whilst he only built her up these days?

“Kairi-” Riku began, as he helped Henry get Carina to her feet… and now everyone was staring at her. Great.

Kairi bit her lip, and again resisted the urge to cry… or to punch Riku in the arm like she had used to.

“Kairi, I swear I didn’t come here to spy on you. Master Yen Sid said that he sensed a certain power, and I-”

Except that Kairi didn’t believe him. How could she, when she’d been being babysat since everything had started when she was fourteen? the only time they hadn’t babysat her was during the Keyblade War, but maybe they should have. Maybe if they had then, Sora wouldn’t be- he wouldn’t be.

Now, Kairi had thought she’d gotten better and stronger this past year… but now it was apparent that Riku (and perhaps others?) were scared of her darkness. And so, it was back to being babysat again.

She also honestly felt like he was here to steal her spotlight, like always.

And with the strong array of emotions she’d felt since coming here, Kairi was done with it. She was done with everything.

So, before anyone could say anything more to her, or judge her, Kairi leapt into the air and began gliding away… to some island a ways away from them all. And she heard Riku calling her name as she did so, and Jack saying how she’d suspected that Sora would go for a nicer girl… and now she did let all of her emotions out.

…

On the island—that housed rum for some reason; and how Kairi was tempted to try drinking some now, to drown all her sorrows—Kairi fought back the urge to destroy the White Mushrooms around her, like she’d thought about doing before… since for whatever reason, there just happened to be some on this island who were dancing around her and asking for magic.

She probably would have slaughtered them in her fury, if she wasn’t trying to find her old self again, since everyone apparently hated who she was now… and maybe they were right for it.

“Sora,” Kairi spoke to her boyfriend now, as she clasped her hands together and raised her head towards the sky—hating herself for this, too, because why was she acting like Sora was in heaven? She was going to find him before he got there. She was!—“Part of me wonders why I’m bothering with all of this. I’m so different now… maybe you wouldn’t love me anymore. Not that I only want you back so you can love me. I want you back even if you hate me… but I wish I knew how you’d feel about this, even if I don’t think I’d change who I am now… even if you asked.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kairi thought she could see some ghostly image of Sora nodding his head and smiling at her… thought she knew it was all in her head. But it still made her feel better, so she got off from the log she’d been sitting on and flew back to where the Pearl was.

Well, the Black Pearl wasn’t exactly where it had been—how glad Kairi was, that ships were slow compared to some of the vehicles she’d seen in other worlds now. And when she got there, she saw Barbossa standing beside Jack and among everyone else?! That’s who Kairi assumed it was, anyway, based on Sora’s descriptions of everyone in this world (had she mentioned that this was Sora’s favorite world that he’d been to?)

Kairi landed down in the ship and summoned her Keyblade. She may have been above fighting innocents now, but she also wasn’t going to suffer a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Kairi knew that Sora had said Barbossa had changed for the better the last time he’d been here, but she also didn’t want to risk it.

“It’s okay, Kairi. We’ve got it figured out,” Riku said, as he came up to Kairi and slung an arm over her shoulder. And she appreciated that he wasn’t telling her to dismiss her Keyblade…

"Missy, I'm her' because I promised Salazar Sparra's head. But given that it's still on his shoulders, that there must mean I'm helpin' him with a plan to keep it there, don't it? So, I would quiet yer suspicions if you really want to find the Trident of Poseidon."

Kairi sighed when she’d heard this Barbossa’s explanation of things, but for once it wasn't an aggravated sigh. This captain had rightly pointed out she was too trigger-happy lately, and so she'd calm down.

And Pip, seeming to sense Kairi's resolution, climbed up her arm and patted her shoulder, too, before he went beneath her hair again.

Kairi would have liked to talk to Captain Barbossa more—to try and get them through this little hurtle, as she wished she could have talked to many people on her last adventures. Because maybe that could have helped solve a lot of issues—but before she could, the water below her was literally being ripped in half (so that Kairi was thrown to the other side of the Pearl, as it tried to be torn apart itself… again).

And as it happened, Kairi could see that Barbossa’s eyes were all for Carina. And she had a lot of suspicions there… but she didn’t have time to deal with that right now.

“Kairi!” Riku yelled her name, as she began falling back into the ocean as a part of the ship finally completely broke off and began tipping over. But she refused to be saved by him—or to ever need rescuing again—so she stuck her Keyblade into the part of the boat that was still active and pulled herself back up. And she fell into Riku’s arms as she made her way back towards her friends… but this time, she didn’t care. She’d managed to help herself… and it felt good to be appreciated like this.

But Kairi couldn’t dwell on maybe having fixed her relationship with Riku for too long. Captain Jack and Barbossa had managed to get what was left of the Pearl to a nearby island, and Henry and Carina were getting off there and jumping into the opened-up ocean beneath them, and Kairi meant to do the same.

And before she knew it, she was in that area—with Riku once again shouting her name, as he followed after her—for she had used a variation of Sora’s “quick run” in order to get where she was faster. But though Sora had moved in circles in order to do that, Kairi mostly moved in a straight line… and Riku seemed to be copying Kairi to try and do the same thing. Kairi would have laughed at all of this, if things hadn’t been so sad lately.

Once they were on the ocean floor, Riku asked her the million munny question. “Kairi, what are we doing here?”

Kairi didn’t answer at first. And she could tell by his hurt face, that he at first thought she was doing it out of spite. But as she let Pip climb out onto her arm, she swiftly showed him that wasn’t the case. “Riku, meet my friend Pip. Pip, Riku.”

“Nice to meet you!” Pip exclaimed, as Kairi saw him get into Riku’s face so he could see him better. “Make sure our girl here keeps a good head on her shoulders, okay?”

“…Right,” Riku answered. “Nice to meet you.” And while Riku seemed to do better meeting Pip then Sora had always thought he would with his friends Pooh, Tigger, and Piglet—and whoever else—Kairi could tell he still wasn’t thrilled. And here she did laugh… because that was Riku for you. And she was so glad to have him after losing Sora. She was.

“To answer your question, Riku,” Kairi responded, as she began running after Carina and Henry now—since something seemed to be going on up ahead—“we’re trying to find this Trident that has powers over all sea curses… and I’m wondering if it’ll save Sora, since he gave his life for me. And my name means that.”

While Riku began running with her, Kairi tried to gauge his reaction to her words. How did he feel about Sora having died for her and not him or any of the others? Kairi didn’t know the answer to that… and she selfishly didn’t know if she wanted to. Whatever the answer, it would probably make her hate herself more.

But Riku didn’t really react to her words in the slightest. He simply clenched his fist and muttered, “Let’s go get it, then.” And suddenly he was taking off faster than even she had been.

And up ahead… Kairi saw Salazar—how had he gotten here so fast?! Carina had just figured this all out! Was it because he was a ghost and could teleport?—had seemed to possess Henry and had the Trident, and was attacking Carina with it!

And Kairi understood why Salazar would do this… he knew that if Kairi’s friends got ahold of the Trident, he would be destroyed… so now he was trying to show Carina that if she wanted that weapon, she’d have to kill Henry to get it.

Captain Jack Sparrow darted past Riku and Kairi now, and was fighting against the possessed Henry for his and Carina’s sake. And Kairi had never felt so moved by him.

“Let the boy go, Salazar,” Kairi could make out the captain saying with a calmness that belied the situation. “Your fight is with me… I destroyed you and your men years ago—gave you a fate worse than death, even—and mayhaps I apologize for that. But even so… fight me.”

And Salazar was battling Jack now…. while Carina seemed desperately to reach out to Henry’s heart. “Henry, I know you’re in there…” she cried, while trying to get in edgewise, so she could try and grab the Trident from “him” while Salazar was preoccupied with his number one enemy. “Think of all we shared, and fight back!” Carina pleaded.

“Kairi,” Riku said now, as he spun her away from the scene before her, so she could focus on the matter at hand. “Maybe you should do the same that she’s doing… if you sensed that Sora might be here—and you know how Yen Sid and I think he’s trying to go to worlds you might be in. So, if you came here, he might be—then try contacting him, too.”

And Kairi would’ve—perhaps again becoming the girl who used to try and use light and do support from the side—if she hadn’t just then heard a voice she now somehow knew so well, whispering behind her ear.

“Really, Kairi? Really? You’re so easily going to go back to the delicate girl you were before your beau sacrificed himself for you? I’m disappointed.”

“Leave her alone!” Riku stepped in between the Master of Masters and Kairi, probably so she could continue to try and reach Sora, she thought. “She’s not going to fall into your plan! She’s not going to-”

And Kairi wasn’t going to do that. She was sick of her friends and herself following the Organization’s plan!

So she decided to just completely ignore the Master of Masters for the time being, and instead went to help Jack and Carina against Henry. “I think you were getting through to him, Carina,” Kairi said, as she gave the other girl a one-armed hug before jumping into the fray. “Keep at it… and I’m sure things will work out. But at the same time… you’re a smart girl. If you want to use your head and work something else out, I believe in you there, too.”

“I wouldn’t believe in anything you say, little girl, since I bested you earlier.” And before Kairi could say anything to that—or try to parry his incoming strike—she was stabbed through the stomach by Salazar. (And was Kairi imagining it… or was Riku trying to teleport to her side now, while the Master said an exasperated “Wow”?)

But she’d become too strong to be “bested” so easily… as she was still impaled on the sword, Kairi grabbed a hold of the butt of it and used it as leverage to throw Salazar—who was still holding onto it—hard to the ground. She then did a quick curaza spell to fix the damage. But she still didn’t feel one hundred percent yet.

“Are you okay there, lass? I may have misjudged you,” Captain Jack asked, as he knelt down beside Kairi and put a hand over her wound.

“I don’t think so!” the Master of Masters bellowed towards Riku, as he froze him in place so he couldn’t get to Kairi? What? Did he think the help she was getting from Jack was more than she deserved? Kairi had before thought she didn’t hate anyone more, than those who kept her away from Sora, she now imagined that those who kept her from Riku were just as annoying.

“Hold on, Riku!” Kairi called his way. “I’ll give you a panacea, and-”

But Kairi lost her train of thought, when she saw Carina had again taken a page from her book. She’d jumped towards the possessed Henry, not even caring for the weapon that was in her way, and though it seemed to nearly slice her side to smithereens… but she was able to wrest the Trident out of Salazar’s hands with this motion, and she was using it instantly. “As the one who now has power over all the sea, I command you—gods and goddesses—to release all your curses!”

But perhaps the Trident in and of itself was a curse, because it turned into water… never to be seen again, Kairi presumed.

Then, the sea above them all began to close… and Kairi thought she might faint. She was too injured to make a Corridor of Light to get herself and her friends out of this. And though she supposed Riku could try and use a Corridor of Darkness again—if worst came to worse—she knew the ill effects that it would have on everyone.

And now the Master of Masters was laughing without humor. “I have no desire to have a watery grave. You all work this one out. And Kairi… continue to be strong. Otherwise, I’ll have reason to kill you! And who wants that?!” As soon as he’d said those words, the Master of Masters was gone… but amazingly, he’d let Riku out of the spell he cast on him before he did—maybe he had plans for him, too—and Riku noticed immediately what was happening and muttered a curse.

“We have to get out of here… now,” Kairi stated the obvious. She quickly healed Carina, and then went to Carina’s side to help her pick up an unconscious Henry. What she’d done with the Trident had freed him, so now Salazar was standing in front of everyone again in all of his hideous, undead—yet human—glory.

Captain Jack had just motioned for Gibbs—who was still in the ship above them—to send the anchor down, so they could all ride it to the surface… but now Salazar and his crew were trying to kill all of their enemies, so they couldn’t get to it first.

But there was no guarantee they’d even survive if they made it to the surface, since sooner or later they’d have to face the fate they’d missed out on long ago. And Kairi had to wonder what kind of desperation drove Salazar… was it what existed in her heart now?

And to try and get to her new friends and to save them before it was too late, Kairi warp-striked to try and get back on what was left of the Pearl, so she could then pull them up. And she could tell that Riku was doing the same thing, having been inspired by her to do so. And he was rescuing Jack and Henry before she could blink... Kairi, then, went to rescue Carina... but it was all over.

For just as she had gotten Carina to the surface, Salazar had grabbed ahold of Kairi and was ramming her into the water wall beside her, as the pathway began to close above her. "If it weren't for foolish people like you, no one would have to suffer!" he hisse.

Kairi wanted to argue that—because maybe she was becoming better again—but was unable to, with how much pain she was in and the water filling up in her mouth.

Kairi tried to get her Keyblade into a position where she could use it... but then she accidentally dropped it into the wave and was losing consciousness.

Above her, Kairi could hear Carina screaming for someone to save her... but then Carina starting to change her mind when it became clear that someone was going to have to sacrifice themselves to fulfill her wish.

"What am I to you?!" Carina cried. And Kairi heard the voice of Barbosa answer "Treasure", before he willingly fell on Salazar—and towards his death—to free her from his hold. And then Kairi felt Riku sharply tugging on her arms to bring her to safety, as she sobbed.

…

For the first time in what felt like ages to Kairi, she had chosen to be selfless and stay with her new friends for a few months—foregoing her search for Sora for that long—to help them deal with the aftermath of everything that had happened.

Captain Jack was the easiest. It seemed to Kairi that he was... just lonely, in seeing Will and Elizabeth—and Henry and Carina—together, even if he was secretly happy for them. And once Kairi learned that there was an "Angelica" in his past, she helped chart a path for him to find her on "Rum Runner Island"—the island that maybe she had unwittingly found?—since he still didn't have his magic compass back.

And Jack looked at Kairi with something like warmness in his eyes, when he chose to shake her hand. "Yer a good lass, Kairi. Don't let anyone tell ya different. And you go on and remember it yourself, savvy?"

"Savvy," Kairi replied, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes--since she thought it was proven with Barbossa’s death (and perhaps Pintel and Ragetti’s before that. And- and Sora’s), that she wasn't very good at all.

And it was Mister Gibbs who seemed to notice Kairi was feeling this way. He told her not to feel too bad about Barbossa, since at least she’d tried to help everyone—unlike him, in his eyes. It seemed to Kairi that Gibbs hated his own inaction on this recent quest of his now. Something she could relate to—and since he thought Barbossa had been happy to give up his life for his daughter’s good spirits, anyway. Kairi didn’t have much to say to that, other than trying to put two-and-two together to try and figure out where the compass Jack had lost was at. He’d promised it to Gibbs, hadn’t she? Kairi swore to the man she’d figure it out and come back and get it to him. Someday.

After that, Kairi had gone with Henry, Carina, and Riku to meet Will and Elizabeth. And her heart soared for Henry and Elizabeth being reunited with father and husband respectively... but Kairi wished Sora could have been here, too, with the Trident having been destroyed… but he wasn’t. And Kairi could tell that Riku was just as upset about it.

For days, Kairi trained with Carina—to help her learn how to fight, as Carina now wanted to be a pirate—and while the other lady had informed Kairi that she didn't at all blame her for her father's death, she didn't seem to sense that Kairi thought people around her in general seemed to die, and didn't comfort her about it. But Kairi thought that it was more that Carina just didn’t know how to, since as a scholar… she seemed to spend most of her life in her own head. And that was fine. Kairi got it. Maybe she’d even been the same in the past, somewhat.

Henry, like Gibbs, was there for Kairi, however. One day, when she was jotting down some things she thought Destiny Islands did better in terms of sailing to help the people here, Henry interrupted her.

"You can't blame yourself, you know," he gently reprimanded her, as he laid a hand on her wrist. "I used to blame myself for my parents' situation... and told myself that if I hadn't been born, my mother could have freed my father from his terrible fate long ago, and not be trapped in a life she hated... But I also knew that my parents loved me, and that the lies we tell ourselves can be the deadliest. So you know that, too."

And it was after Henry told Kairi this, and she felt light return to her heart once more, that she finally decided to leave the Caribbean. She'd been dreaming of healing these people, but here they had done that for her.

"You know..." said Will, as Kairi was about to leave alongside Riku, with a knapsack over her shoulder. "Even though I was dying at the time, and it was hard to tell, Sora was very angry about what Davy Jones did to me... and even then, I assumed it was because he didn't want to be taken away from someone, like he didn't want me to have to be taken away from Elizabeth."

"And when Will went missing in searching for the Isla de Muerta, it was Sora, Donald, and Goofy that I trusted to help me find him, not Jack. And I suppose it could be because Sora reminded me of Will—of us—if he had someone like you waiting for him at home,” Elizabeth added on to her husband’s claims, as she winked at Kairi.

"Thank you," Kairi said shyly, before making the rash decision to hug the spouses. And though it clearly shocked them both, they swiftly hugged her back. They were parents, after all.

And to partly thank Will and Elizabeth for that and so much more, when Kairi just happened to see barnacles under their bed, she took them outside and burnt them... so the memory of this Davy Jones would hopefully leave them alone forever.

And it was when Kairi was outside on Elizabeth’s (and now her family’s) beautiful green island, that she found Riku sitting there as he let the wind dance over him.

Pip bound up to Kairi then, as it looked like he'd just been on the gummi ship with Riku, and he excitedly told her, "Kairi! What happened with the Trident seemed to give Riku a vision! He says Sora's in a world of... data? Though apparently, it's not the Tron world or Datascape, whatever that means. Isn't that good news?!"

And trying to hide the fact that she was sad Riku had seen this and not her, too—because hadn't Riku and Master Yen Sid and Riku theorized Sora was trying to get to worlds she'd like?—Kairi sat down beside him and said, "Then I guess we should see if Cid can get our phones to search for worlds with data."

#mine #my work #Shanna writes #my writing #swallow #kairi #sokai #kh #kingdom hearts #swallow chapter 4 #swallow chapter four #chapter four #chapter 4 #long post

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