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v1nsmoke · 2 months ago

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𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻𝒀 𝑲𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹 // 𝑺𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑹!𝒁𝑶𝑹𝑶 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 2

Attending a house party won't be a bad choice, at least that's what you think until something changes the course of the night, and everything turns into chaos.

Not to mention the after effects...

this is a multi-chapter work, with consistent updates on wattpad and ao3. i'd recommend checking those out since i tend to neglect tumblr lmao, or visit the masterlist to find all already published chapters here on tumblr.

tw: blood, fire, car crash, description of wounds/injuries, murder, graphic violence, alcohol

pairing: roronoa zoro x reader

genre: horror, thriller, drama

chapter: 2/? (visit the masterlist for other chapters!)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: okayy, so here's a longer chapter, i usually don't make these lol but i wish i had the patience for it... first appearance of cop shanks (i already have a oneshot for it, which i might continue after finishing party killer) and also of firefighter ace who has my heart ♡

PLAYLIST (click on this, it'll lead you to spotify!!)

The loud music with the same, repetitive beat keeps playing from the speakers installed by Usopp earlier today, maybe an hour ago. You didn't expect everybody from the cafeteria to actually pull up, but it seems like you weren't the only one who thought it would be nice to attend a party just this one time. Everybody was there, even those smart students whose daily routine was entirely made up of studying and the quiet kids nobody knew anything about, and they all seemed to have fun. Except you.

You stood alone in the corner of the living room, awkwardly holding the red plastic cup filled with alcohol that you won't drink anyway. Maybe coming here was a bad idea after all.

"Uh, hey,” You hear voice behind you, though it was faint since the music was being blasted in the background. You turn around to see the guy from your fencing classes, the same guy that you invited here because Zoro wouldn't do it.

"Hi," You say, your fingers fiddling with the cup as you force a smile onto your face.

"I see you're alone. Zoro didn't come with you? I was sure he would," he starts.

"Uhhh I haven't seen him yet, but the party only started not so long ago, he said some days ago that he'll show up. He's bad with directions and navigation, maybe he just got lost," You explain.

"Oh, alright, if you say so. My name's Kaku. Nice to meet you, I've been watching you during fencing classes."

-○-

Zoro's face expressed disgust. Was it worth coming here? He stands still near the doorway of the living room, silently observing the scene currently unfolding on the other side of the room. When he entered, you were the first thing he saw amidst the crowd, but his happiness quickly dissapeared after a guy approaches you. Zoro could recognise him as Kaku from fencing classes, the guy who would always be paired with Zoro (and inevitably lose to him).

He couldn't hear what your conversation was about, the other guests and the music overpowering his hearing. Oh how he hated Kaku. He annoyed Zoro so much, his voice, gestures, everything. And now this man he hated was talking to you. It was supposed to be him. Maybe if he didn't take twenty-two wrong turns, get stuck in a traffic jam AND park his car in front of the wrong house, it could be him. But that wasn't the case right now, because instead of enjoying your company, he stood still on the other side of the room.

It bothered him how you had to force a smile, he could see it across the crowded room, but Kaku standing next to you couldn't. He just kept talking and talking, not noticing the way you were looking in all directions but at Kaku, who didn't seem to care.

"Heyyy, you wanna join me on the dance floor?" An unknown girl comes up to Zoro, pointing at the middle of the living room.

"No,” He coldly turned her down, not even bothering to look at this girl. He couldn't take his eyes off you and Kaku, and knew that if the guy tries to do anything, whether it be a romantic or hurtful action towards you, he's going to be there between the two of you in the blink of an eye.

Just then, he notices as Kaku takes your hand into his, the movement making you seemingly uncomfortable. Seeing this, Zoro takes rapid steps trough the living room, squishing himself trough the crowd, his katanas colliding into each other. As he gets closer, he starts to hear you voice.

"No, uh, thanks, I-" you stutter, politely turning him down, trying to pull yourself back to the corner you were standing in.

"Come on, you're supposed to have fun, right? Zoro's not coming anyway, that asshole doesn't care," Kaku chuckles. Zoro deeply inhales. It took his all not to launch at the guy and gut him right then and there.

"No, sorry. I'm not going anywhere with you," You insist, pulling back your hand in hopes of freeing it from his grasp. Your heart was beating faster, and it was definitely not because Kaku's charms. You've already considered all possible outcomes of this. You called it “ready-for anything mindset,” although others called it simply overthinking. Lucky for you there was a small cupboard with a vase on it next to you just in case of an emergency.

"No way, I'm a nice guy, you know me! I-"

"She said no."

"Zoro!" You smile upon hearing your friend's deep voice, one that you could recognise anywhere. Kaku seems to lose some of his self confidence after Zoro's voice hits his ears, but he still didn't let go of your hand.

"Hey, buddy!" He gives the green haired man a fake smile. This was off to a bad start. Zoro could swear that if this guy called him 'buddy' again, he'll lose it.

"Let her go," he snaps back, not even greeting Kaku. Instead, he stared into his soul, and if looks could kill, Kaku would be gone by now.

"Alright, fine!" Kaku gets defensive, letting go of you and raising both his hands up like he was being arrested. It looked like he was waiting for a 'thank you', but you sure weren't going to thank him for the bare minimum. Feeling the tension, the guy tries to lighten the mood before Zoro accidentally stares too strongly at him.

"Zoro, buddy, can I invite you for a drink?" He asks.

Zoro nods, knowing that Kaku had no idea of what he just got himself into.

"I'll be back soon," Zoro faintly smiles your way, which is not a rare phenomenon with you, then leaves wirh Kaku following closely behind him, leaving you alone yet again.

~○~

Zoro pours another drink into the cup, Kaku letting out a sigh of satisfaction as he downs it again. Both of them sat at the kitchen counter, drinking up everything they could find. They both consumed the same amount of alcohol, but one of them was definitely drunker than the other. Zoro was an expert at alcohol drinks, and could still stay sober even after an insane amount of drinks. Unlike Kaku. He was deeply drunk by now, just as Zoro expected it.

"Zoro, hi! You're actually here, cool! Though I would be happier if you left your katanas at home," Nami appears, greeting her friend.

"I always take them with me everywhere."

"Yeah, that's exactly why you are banned from so many places."

"Zoro, pour me and yourself another!" Kaku chuckles, his shaky hands holding the cup towards the green haired. Zoro agrees, but when he tries to grab another drink, he notices that it's all gone.

"Strange. I thought you were prepared, Nami," he says.

"I WAS! But you two idiots drank it all!" She shouts at the two, mad that they didn't leave any for the rest of the guests.

"So no more drinks?" Zoro looks over to Nami, earning a sigh from her.

"There is. Go to the garage, I have a few crates of it stored there. Bring those up, but leave some for the others."

"Why do I have to get them? You're the host, do it yourself," Kaku whines, clearly drunk.

"MAYBE BECAUSE I WASN'T THE ONE WHO DRANK IT ALL. NOW GO," she pushes Kaku out of the room, Zoro walking behind them.

He would be lying if he said this wasn't what he was planning all along. The crates in the garage? He knew about it. And he also knew that nobody will be there, all the guests in the living room or one of the guest rooms. He felt a bit bad for leaving you alone, but there were things that had to be done. And it was for your own good.

"Man, I'm telling ya, I would be long gone with that girl if you didn't interfere. Damn bro, I even had some aphrodisiac with me, I-"

Zoro didn't need to hear the rest. His steps slowed down, mind going in multiple directions. Did he just mean you when saying 'that girl'? Did he really want to give you that shit? Kaku may be drunk, but drunk words are sober thoughts, and Zoro knew that. He hated Kaku, but now he snapped. This guy was going too far, and Zoro didn't like the way this crazy dude talked and thought about you.

He opens the garage's door, holding it open for Kaku to enter, and he does so, skipping his way down the few stairs. Unbeknownst to him, he just walked into a trap, one that Zoro has been planning ever since Kaku started making flirty comments towards you during fencing classes, not noticing how you were internally cringing and creeped out by him, but neither of you ever said a word about this. And tonight really did it for Zoro. He didn't invite Kaku for a drink because he wanted to get closer to him. He did it to get him into this drunken state, and made him drink up every drink until there was none left. He didn't need Nami to ask them to get more, he would've done it anyways.

Kaku looks trough the shelves, searching for even more drinks.

"Zoro, you helping me or nah?" He inquires, still looking at the metal shelf.

"Sure. I think I already found one of the crates," he says, carrying a crate filled with whiskey over to Kaku. He tries to hand it to him, but drops it in the process. The glasses break, the alcohol spilling on the floor and Kaku, who is now soaked from head to toe, given that he was crouching when this happened.

"Sorry." There was no remorse in Zoro's tone, but the guy believed him anyways, the drinks doing their thing.

"It's okay buddy, mistakes happen," he smiles, going back to searching the shelf again in case he missed something.

He doesn't notice as Zoro quietly locks the garage's door, trapping the two alone together. He starts searching in his pocket, until he finally gets his hands on the keys to Nami's car, the keys that he stole from the hanger in the hallway. Zoro opens the car's door, sitting down on the leather seat of it, then inserts the key and the engine comes to life with a buzzing sound.

"Ey man, be careful or you'll hit me!" Kaku shouts, still crouching just a few meters away from the car.

"Don't worry. Stay there, and you'll be safe. I just want to test something," he lies, and steps on the gas pedal. The tires of the car squealed on the concrete floor of the garage, which had just enough space for the green haired to roll the car back a bit.

"Buddy, Zoro, no, no, let me just go back, you can try the car when I'm not here," Kaku stands up, ready to leave in this instant.

"Stay put. I'm here to crush your skull, not the car."

And with that, Zoro pushes the car's gear, feet forcefully pressing the gas pedal.

A loud thud echoes in the garage as Zoro crashes into the wall, the breaking of bones and coughs ringing with it. Kaku tries to take deep breaths, but now that he was squished between the wall and the car, it seemed impossible. His head was spinning, eyesight hazy, the only thing he tried to focus his eyes on was the man in the driver's seat, staring at him with an emotionless gaze.

Zoro backs up a bit with the car, Kaku falling to the floor with broken ribs. He coughs, clawing at the floor in hopes of being able to crawl away. Zoro opens the car's door, slowly stepping out. Kaku was almost at the few steps leading to the door, when he looks back over his shoulders at the sound of footsteps, the green haired man approaching him.

"No, please, I-" he crawls a bit faster, but Zoro grabs him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back with force, then dragging him along the cold concrete floor, back towards the car.

Zoro lifts him up, then places him in the drivers seat while he stands at the car's door.

"You're gonna be in big trouble when I tell the others about this," he manages to whisper between coughs, his own blood filling his mouth.

"They won't know." And with that, Zoro steps on the gas pedal, quickly pulling his leg back after doing so. A deafening scream pierces trough the air, the car running into the wall yet again, the metal shelf between the two objects breaking right trough the windshield, the end of it sliding trough Kaku's head.

The car sparks at the impact, the alcohol spilled there by Zoro previously catching fire. Was the crate drop a few minutes ago intentional? Yes. Yes, it was. Now the car was in flames, the already dead Kaku stiff in the drivers seat.

Zoro calmly grabs a crate filled with beer from the other side of the room, and makes his way towards the door like nothing happened. He doesn't look back, letting the car burn with Kaku inside it. The whole garage was made up of concrete walls, which cannot catch or spread fire, meaning that Nami's house won't burn down if he leaves the fire to be.

He leaves the room, striding back to the kitchen. Just as he was about to leave the hallway and enter the living room, Nami comes rushing to him.

"Zoro! What took you so long?! We heard loud noises, I was getting worried that something happened to you!" She scolds him.

"I didn't know you could do that," he coldly replies, earning an eyeroll from the ginger girl, who noticed something.

"Wait, where's the guy who went with you?" She asks.

"Oh, Kaku? He told me to feel free to come back, said he wanted to try something. He should be here soon," he lies straight to Nami's face.

Nami shrugs, about to go back to the middle of the party, when she suddenly stops in her tracks. Her nose picks up an unkonwn scent, or more like smell.

"Zoro, can you smell it too?" She asks worriedly, turning back to the swordsman. "Smoke." Realisation dawns on her, eyes going wide. She rushes out the room, a curious Usopp and you behind her. "You're coming too!" She shouts back, clearly meaning Zoro. So, he follows them.

The grey smoke filled the hallway as they got closer to the garage, Nami already suspecting what happened. Usopp bursts trough the garage's door, letting out a few coughs along with Nami and you. The room was filled with smoke, the orange haired girl's car still in flames, it was only a matter of time before it gets worse and the car explodes.

"SOMEBODY HELP! WE NEED WATER! CALL THE POLICE AND FIREFIGHTERS!" Usopp screams. Nami and you nod, running back to warn the others and call for help.

Now Zoro was left alone with Usopp, who was panicking, taking fast and deep breaths to calm himself down.

"You, Zoro? D-don't you feel l-like doing something about this?" He shakily asks, eyes on the green haired man.

"I already did," he answers. Usopp slightly scrunches his eyebrows, not quite understanding what he meant.

"What are y-you trying to say? You're creeping me out a bit, you know." He takes a tiny step back, Zoro looking at him with a colder, more menacing stare than usual.

Usopp swallows hard, feeling uneasy after Zoro doesn't give him an answer.

"Zoro, you... you didn't, right?" He nervously chuckles, but Zoro still doesn't move or say anything. Usopp realises that he's in grave danger here, and it's time for him to run. But just as he turns around, ready to sprint back to the living room, he hears as Zoro unsheats one of his katanas. Usopp grabs a vase, throwing it right towards Zoro, who simply cuts trough it.

"This can't be real, this can't be real, this can't be real!" Usopp murmurs to himself, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. But when he opens them again, Zoro's gone. Or at least that's what he thought, standing up, letting out a deep sigh at the fact that he won't die.

"Sorry. No witnesses," he hears the deep voice from behind, the blade making contact with his upper body. Usopp looks down, and is met with the sight of Zoro's katana going trough right his heart. He sees as Zoro pulls out the blade from his flesh, a hole left in its place. He coughs, blood spilling from his mouth before landing on the flooring beneath him with a thud.

Zoro's hands were now stained with his friend's blood, the crimson liquid staining Nami's floor and his katana's shiny blade. He had to get rid of the body quickly, before you, Nami and all the others return with the cops. So, he grabs Usopp's dead body by the legs, dragging him to the burning car in the garage a few steps away.

You panic, dialing 911 as fast as possible while Nami ushered everybody out the house before something else catches on fire too, or the flames reach the wrong spot of the car and it explodes. But Usopp was down there, trying to put it out with the buckets from the storage room. Or at least that's what you thought was happening.

"911, what's your emergency?" A female voice chimes in from the other side of the line, one that you could recognise.

"Stussy, Nami's car got caught on fire in her garage, and she said somebody was there too, it can explode any minute, Usopp is trying to put it out but I'm worried for him, I-" you dump all the information on her, but she calmly cuts you off.

"Alright. I'll ask Shanks to go, he'll bring some of his colleagues too, so him and some firefighters will be there in a few minutes."

"Thank you. Bye." You shake, worried for Usopp and Zoro at the garage. Stussy puts down the phone, and you do the same as you rush back to the garage to get the two out of the house.

You cough as you get closer, Usopp and Zoro nowhere to be seen.

"ZORO! USOPP! COME ON, WE NEED TO GET OUT!" You shout, hoping they will hear you. You slow in your track when you notice the splatters of blood on the floor and wall a few meters away from the entrance of the garage. Did something happen to them? You think for a second. Maybe the fire wasn't caused by accident. Maybe somebody set it on fire intentionally, killing the person Nami said was there. And now he maybe got one of your friends too.

"USOPP! ZOR-" you call out their names, when suddenly the green haired man appears in the garage's doorway.

"Oh god, you're alright! Look, we need to get out of here, the police, firefighters and ambulance are already on their way, there's nothing we can do about the fire now. And I might sound stupid right now, but there might be even a killer, and-"

"There is. Now come with me and get out of here," he cuts you off and grabs your hand, heading to where you just came from.

"But Usopp-" you try to stop yourself, but Zoro keeps dragging you behind him.

"He'll be fine," he replies, not even looking at you.

"You know what he's like, we can't just leave him here!" You argue back, slightly raising your voice.

"There's no time for him, we need to leave, now."

"No!" You tear your hand away from his. "He will panic that he's alone, or worse, he can die too! Don't you think about that?!"

"I do, but I don't care. I don't care if that fool dies, but if I don't get you out of here and you die because of me, I'll never forgive myself." He lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder, firm hands keeping you in place. You squirm, trying to get out of his touch, but it seems impossible.

He bursts trough the door, then places you down at the front yard. The other guests were either gone the moment they heard there was a fire, or watched in horror as the smoke flowed out the house. Just as you step on the sidewalk in front of the house, the sound of cop cars hit your ears, that same deafening sound as all the other times. Firefighters and ambulance arrive at the scene too, jumping out of the vehicles in an instant. You rush towards one firefighter, the black haired, freckled guy you were friends with.

"Ace! Ace, one of my friends is still inside, please, try to find him and get him out," you beg, tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

"That's my job, sweetheart. Don't worry!" He reassuringly winks, running toward's Nami's house.

You knew Ace since childhood, you both went to the same school and your moms were good friends, so you got to hang out with him a lot. He loved going on adventures, and was a good company. He always dreamt of being a firefighter, and it was like a dream come true for him when he got the job. You knew that he will be great at this job, and you trusted him. When he told you not to worry, you believed him, there was something about your friend saying this that calmed you down a bit.

"Hey, you alright?" Another familiar voice sounds from behind you, his hands placed on your shoulders. You turn around and see the red haired man with scars over one of his eyes, worry displaying in his eyes. You couldn't hold your tears anymore, this was it. You wrap your arms around him, face buried into his chest, sobs escaping your lips.

"It's okay, it's okay. You'll be fine." He hugs back, bringing a sense of comfort to you. Shanks was the usual friendly cop, the one who would always be there when an old lady called the police because her cat got stuck on a tree, the man who would knock into your home just because he was bored and wanted company. You knew him, his little secrets, and he knew yours.

~○~

The rest of the night you sat in Shanks' cop car, a blanket over you after a doctor checked up on you and it was all okay. You were devastated. Ace and the doctors did everything they could to save Usopp, who was found dead in the garage, stabbed. The other victim was Kaku, who died under mysterious circumstances. There was definitely a killer, but nobody knew who it was. Though you did have your suspect. And you could only wish you were wrong.

The last time you and Nami saw Kaku was when he was with Zoro, but Nami said that the two went to fetch drinks and Kaku stayed behind, so maybe that wasn't Zoro's fault. But it was also him who stayed with Usopp, he was last seen with him. And the fact that Zoro carries his katanas everywhere, including this party, and Usopp getting killed by a blade just fit together. Why would he kill Usopp? You had no idea.

Everyone got questioned one by one, and sadly all clues lead to Zoro according to Benn, who was Shanks' colleague. You didn't know him like you knew Shanks, but you would meet him often. He was smart, and knew what he was doing. And that's why you were so worried. Because he is likely right this time too, and that means Zoro, your best friend is a murderer.

You see as Shanks approaches his car where you were sitting, a serious look on his face.

"Is something wrong?" You quietly ask, worried that something happened, something wrong.

"I'm sorry. I really am." He says as he sits down in the back next to you, looking in a direction. You follow where his eyes are focused, and see what you didn't want to. Zoro in handcuffs, escorted to a police car. A tear escapes you, it hurts to think that your friend is a killer. You didn't know his motives, why he did what he did, but he probably had a good reason.

Shanks was worried that you will be targeted after this, so he offered to take care of you and live with him if you want. You have been living alone ever since you were 15, and you knew Shanks well, so, you moved in with him. He has been acting as your father figure ever since, and you totally don't mind it.

You would sometimes still wonder: why did you do it, Zoro?

#v1nsmoke #one piece #eiichiro oda #fanfiction #wattpad #roronoa zoro #slasher zoro x reader #slasher #slashers #kaku one piece #cat burglar nami #usopp #shanks one piece #ao3

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whumpsday · 1 year ago

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Whumpdreaming: A Whump Playlist

hope you all enjoy this little playlist i made! i tried not to reuse songs from my Kane & Jim character playlists, since i already used a lot of whumpy songs on that (especially the kane playlist lol). you can give those a listen too if you wanna!

Listen Here ▶️

Bonus song here ▶️ (it's not on spotify)

CW: various songs on this playlist contain references to torture, death, and sexual assault. nothing graphic, but it is there.

Whumpmas in July Day 11: What songs/playlists are perfect for whumpy daydreaming?

tracklist and selected lyrics under the read-more

01. The Dismemberment Song - Blue Kid

So don't you squirm, don't you fret I'm not gonna hurt you... yet I just feel the need to be getting A little of you, a lot of blood-letting I know the sensation you're probably dreading But cutting you up will be so refreshing for me

02. God Help Me - Emilie Autumn

God help me Believe me, this wasn't what I wanted But no, I can't leave, he's got me Won't you shine in my direction and help me? Won't you lend me your protection and help me?

03. The Horror of Our Love - Ludo

I'm a killer Cold and wrathful, silent sleeper I've been inside your bedroom I've murdered half the town Left you love notes on their headstones I'll fill the graveyards, until I have you

04. Mother Mother - The Veronicas

I'm hungry, I'm dirty I'm losing my mind Everything's fine I'm freezing, I'm starving I'm bleeding to death Everything's fine

05. Shoot Him Down - Alice Francis

I want to choke him Want to maltreat him I want to squeeze him And break his neck, neck, neck, neck

06. Choke - I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THE FOUND ME

Stop, drop And drag me into place And lock the fire escapes I'll break your pretty face

07. Animal Skin - Bryan Dunn

I know where you're vulnerable Wild things can't get comfortable Quiver and shake, quiver and shake Oh no, oh no, oh no! You were being kicked about Backed up, teeth and claws are out Covered in blood, covered in blood Let it flow, let it flow, let it flow

08. I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters

I can't decide Whether you should live or die Oh, you'll probably go to heaven Please don't hang your head and cry

09. Shalott - Emilie Autumn

She says, "How long can I live this way Is there someone I can pay to let me go 'Cause I'm half sick of shadows I want to see the sky Everyone else can watch as the sun goes down So why can't I?"

10. Tomcat Disposables - Will Wood

Little heart racing and praying, "Something, keep me safe" I think it saw my face Okay, one hungry day Is nothing come what may But then winter came inside for three nights Left me grinding my teeth between my walls And gripping my dreams tight

11. Gay Pirates - Cosmo Jarvis

And they put glass on my sandals So my feet would bleed all day And they forced me to wear them Or they said they'd make you pay

12. Little Pistol - Mother Mother

Under the skin, against the skull They put a little chip so that they know it all I think I might be scared Of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid

13. Inside You - Newton Schottelkotte, Karim Kronfli, The Blasting Company

I’ll have you begging for my mercy Loud enough for all to hear And at last I’ll finally take you by surprise As I hold you close and in the throes of passion’s piercing cries I’ll see the light inside you As it leaves your eyes

@whumpmasinjuly

#wij24day11 #whumpmasinjuly2024 #music

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mcsm-r0ckz · 10 months ago

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Hellooooooo :D

I'm new to your blog. Do you have any au's? I like learning about other's interests and their ideas -w- it makes me happy whenever someone just info dumps on their fixations

With pleasure

Horror AUs:

The first one is 'BITTER', which is basically of a what-if scenario if Aiden actually succeeded his plan. It's currently a concept for right now and isn't finished since I can't think of what to make the first chapter.

The next one is 'CHAMPION', it's inspired by Champion! Jesse AU, with what would happen is Jesse was the one who got the clock, what happened before episode 5 season 2 in Beacontown, if the Sunshine Institute was WAY more high security, and if the Admin was a physchopath. Currently, it's on chapter 4 as of right now, and I'm working on chapter 5.

The one after that is 'MURDER HOUSE', which is episode 6 season 1 but more graphic, gorey, bloody, sad, and much more! I won't give out too much information on it, but I will say chapter 1 has been started, and might get finished, since I recently played episode 6, and I can base it off that.

The one right after is 'FALLEN HEROES', which is a book series which is basically what if the new Order Of the Stone went insane/turned into villains. I've already finished Olivia, Axel, and Jesse's books, now I'm working I'm Petra's, which is on 2 chapters, that is with the monolouge. But the order doesn't matter, you can read them in any order you want. Jesse and Axel's book in Fallen Heroes were my favorite to work on, especially Axel's!

The next one is 'WITHERSICKNESS', which is basically if the Withersickness from MCSM was an infection. Basically, an infection au but in MCSM. It takes place in season 1, and mostly doesn't follow season 1 episodes 1-4. It is, by far, my longest book I've made! It was a joy working on, and is currently over 70 CHAPTERS LONG, and isn't even finished! I highly suggest you to check it out!

The final horror books/book series is 'DEADLY LOVE', which I won't give info on, but is pretty dark and graphic. I'm working on the plot for the prequel, but the prequel isn't my main focus right now. This series DOES go off of order, which can go; prequel[when out], main book[DEADLY LOVE], sequel[HIDDEN LIES], OR, main book[DEADLY LOVE], sequel[HIDDEN LIES], prequel[when out]. It was one of my favorite books to work on, excluding Jesse and Axel's book in Fallen Heroes and Withersickness.

Angst AUs:

The first one is 'The Death of Jesse Andrews', which as the title says, is about how others would grieve if [MALE] Jesse died. I finished the first book, Lukas's Grief, and another is in the progress! I won't give any spoilers thought ;)

The last one is 'forgetful', which is what if Jesse had gotten severe withersickness, and forgot everything? It's still a concept, since I have to rewrite it.

Other AUs:

This first one is a fan made version of MCSM Season 3. I won't say much, but it's VERY descriptive and I have BIG ideas ;)

And there's one other AU, that will involve a new character, though, I won't say who. It's an OC, and I have plans ;)

That's all of my AU books! All of them can be located on wattpad, under 'AST3RUSSY'!

#mcsm #mcsm au #mcsm horror #mcsm horror au #aster rambles #tysm for the ask!!!!

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 5 years ago

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Stay With Me (Pt. 03 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2.1 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

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{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22, who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

Memories From The Past

“I was with the same group of people since the world fell apart. Me and six other people.” Slowly you start, keeping your voice down so Daryl will be the only one to hear it. “We were fine and... One day we had to leave the house because there were too many dead around... So we... We left and this group found us. They were good, they offered help.” How stupid you were to believe it. To go with them and trust their kindness. Kindness, now, is rare. It's used as a trick, a trap. And you fell for it. “They had a couple of houses, lived well together and... It was normal, for a week it was normal. I-I was starting to feel safe when...” Your body shakes, like a leaf, and Daryl moves closer, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. “The men started making... Propositions. And I would never do that, and-and in the beginning they were okay. They respected my decision, but soon, it... They started getting aggressive. I told my group and we decided to run away during the night but they found out.” You're crying, sobbing, a hand on your heart. “They got us. And-and all the others were useless. Four men and two older women, so they killed them. They had t-these dead tied up and they made me watch as my friends were eaten.” It's hard to continue, to push the words out, to revisit that day. Those days, endless. The hours that never seemed to end.

“ ‘S alright. That's enough.” Daryl says, but you push the blanket away, freeing your arms from underneath and holding his hand. You just need to make sure he's real. That he's here, the man who saved you, who won't let anyone hurt you again.

“They locked me up after. They... They told me they didn't want to... Rape me... They wanted me to enjoy what they did. T-the humiliating, degrading sex, the extreme bondage, the cuts, the wounds, the pain. All of it.” You decide to just say it, spill it out, as fast as you can just to get it over with. “But I wouldn't. I wouldn't and I was thinking they'd just kill me. I was ready but they didn't. They came every single day, I stopped counting after a month, to ask me to surrender but I never did. They beat me, kicked me, cut me, spit on me. They used to drag one of the dead to the basement and leave it there, groaning at me for days.”

“That's enough. Ya don't have to–”

“Then a herd came. I heard it. I heard it killing them so I just pushed myself up and crawled through a window.” You look down at your arms, the grazes, and scratches from the glass. “I fought with a man for the car, and he gave me this–” You tilt your head to the wound on your left thigh. “–right before one of the dead got him. So I started driving, and I kept driving until the gas was over. I stood there as the dead came, surrounded me and I just wanted to die.” You're head is spinning, and you feel like you're just about to faint. “I wanted to die until you found me.”

The look on his eyes kills you. Why is he in such pain? Why is he looking at you like... Like you're breakable. Like you're broken already. Maybe it's because you are. And you will never speak of it again. You will never let these words come out of your mouth. The memories are more than enough to torture you day after day.

“Nobody will ever hurt ya again,” Daryl says, his voice filled with anger, a kind of anger you never witnessed before. “I promise ya. Never.” He pulls you into a hug, carefully, but you just move into his chest, biting back a wince when pain spreads through your body. You're sobbing, uncontrollably, and you're sure the tears are soaking Daryl's shirt. It hurts to cry. “Shh. ‘S alright, babygirl. Calm down, ‘M right here with ya. ‘M right here.”

“Will-will they kick me out?” You stutter, still hiding your head on his chest.

“No. Yer not going anywhere, hear me?” Daryl pulls away, just enough to look into your eyes. “Hear me?”

“Can you stay with me? Please.” Holding on to his shirt, you beg, unable to bear the thought of being left alone.

“Of course.”

Relieved, you pull him, moving to the side a little despite the pain. Daryl hesitates a bit before moving, resting his back against the headrest as you move to lay your head on his chest, pulling your legs up, basically curling into him.

You're not sure how long he stays there, in silence, a hand caressing your hair. But when you start getting hungry, you know he'll have to leave eventually.

“(Y/N),” Carol calls from the door frame. “Can I bring your lunch?”

Nodding weakly, you watch as her smiles and leaves.

“I need to talk to Rick,” Daryl says, carefully moving to stand up, making sure you'll be comfortable against the headrest. “Him and Deanna. So they'll stop bugging ya about... What happened before.”

“Will you be back?” You ask as he stands up, holding his hand.

“I promise I will. I won't leave ya alone.”

Nodding, you force yourself to let go of his hand. Carol brings you lunch and you struggle to eat without her help. It always takes a while, and Carol talks through it, even though you don't answer. You should though, she's been so kind to you, patient, doing everything she can... It's unfair to give the silent treatment.

“Thank you.” You say when you're done eating, handing her the empty plate. The words still sound low and weak, and you don't feel as comfortable as you feel with Daryl. “For... For everything.”

Her lips break into a smile, bright and sweet. “You don't have to thank me. I'm happy to help.” Carol moves to hold your hand, but you're quick to move it away. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I just...” Looking down, you feel another tear rolling. “Sorry.”

“It's alright, honey. It's good to see you feel comfortable around Daryl.” The mention of his name warms your heart. “I've never seen him so protective of anyone.”

“Daryl is...” Your hero, your anchor. He's the only thing holding you up, keeping you from falling apart.

“I know. I can see it in your eyes.” Carol stands up, giving you one last glance before heading to the door. “And I see it in his eyes too.”

You're left alone again, with your thoughts and memories. Daryl only comes back a few hours later, telling you he had spoken to both Rick and Deanna, and your stay in Alexandria was allowed. He says they usually make a small gathering to welcome new residents, but it'll only happen when and if you want it. You don't. In fact, you don't think you can leave this house just yet. You haven't even left the room, just for a few minutes every morning, when the streets are empty to get some sunlight. Anything else doesn't feel safe.

Later that night, you're wide awake after a quick nap brought the memories back as nightmares. So you just lie there, facing the ceiling, in the dark, shaking like a leaf. Even though the silence, the walls, and blankets covering you, you feel unprotected, exposed, vulnerable.

“The morning is coming.” You tell yourself, whispering, barely hearing your own voice. The sun will come back, the darkness will vanish and... And you'll probably feel pretty much the same way. “The morning is–” You're cut short when you hear footsteps, quickly pushing yourself up, biting back a moan when your body hurts. But your whole body relaxes when you see Daryl walking by, through the open door. He stops when he sees you, confusion on his face.

“What are ya doin’ up?” He asks, stepping inside the room.

“I'm not sleeping.” You mumble, not sure if the answer makes much sense. “I don't sleep. Not much.”

“Why?” Daryl sits on the edge of the bed, and you lie back down, holding his hand as usual.

“Bad dreams.” You admit, your eyes on his. You can't see the blue in this darkness, but you don't have to. Feeling his stare is enough to calm you down, make you relax. “If you... If you stay here– If you sleep here I– Maybe I can...” The words get all confused, as you understand what you're asking of him. But you need him, you're suddenly aware. If he's here through the night, you'll feel safe. You'll be able to sleep, knowing he's around.

“Ya want me here?” Daryl says, his voice low as if he didn't want to disturb the night.

“Yes, but... If you don't want it's ok. I– I'm just...” Restless, you move a little, feeling stupid for asking Daryl such thing. But you need him so much. Tears start rolling down, so you look away, breathing fast.

“Alright, alright.” You feel when he starts moving, and you do the same, sliding to the side to give him space. “Careful.” He says as you push yourself up a little, heart beating fast at the sensation of having him here.

You're not thinking much, and when you use your left leg to push your weight up, you feel a sting and a sharp pain spreading through your leg. A groan leaves your lips at the same moment, and you wince in pain, freezing in place. You feel wetness on the wound, and you quickly push the blankets away, all air leaving your lungs when you see blood staining the white bandages.

“Calm down.” You hear Daryl's voice, but you're hyperventilating, the agony of the flesh wound reopened bringing tears to your eyes. “Carol!” He shouts, startling you a little. “Lemme see.”

You nod, lying back down as he moves the blankets away, his hands just brushing against your skin. “It's ripped.” You moan, trying not to move, despite how your body is shaking.

“What happened?” Carol gets here quickly, her eyes wide.

“Go get Denise.” Daryl's voice is urgent, and it sounds like an order. She doesn't say anything before bolting away. “You'll be alright. I'll remove the bandages, ‘s that ok?” With your eyes closed, you nod, barely feeling his fingers on your skin as the dressings are removed. Soon enough you feel the cold wind on your flesh. “Some stitches are ripped. Not all of them.”

You barely hear his voice above the agony, covering your face with both your hands. “It hurts.” You mutter, feeling stupid for stating the obvious.

“I know. Denise will–” He's still speaking when Denise comes in suddenly, saying something you can't understand.

She's soon working on your leg, applying local anesthesia before anything else. You're relieved when the pain starts to fade, but you can't look. You feel the blood flowing out, and if wasn't for Daryl holding you, you'd lose it.

As Denise stitches you up, you have your back on Daryl's chest, his arms encircling your waist. You try not to shake, not to move, but it's hard. The tears come flooding again, as the memories try to haunt you. “ ‘S alright, babygirl. You'll be alright.” Daryl says on your ear, and you close your eyes tight.

He stays even after Denise leaves, still holding you as you hold on to him. The silence is comfortable, safe, and you feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.

“How long have you carried me here?” You ask, voice low and weak.

“Four days.”

“Four days?” You move to look at him, but his grip gets tighter, holding you in place.

“Careful. Ya gotta move slowly.” Settling back into place, you nod. “I had my bike but I didn't think ya could hold on so I carried ya.”

“I'm sorry...” Whispering, you grab a handful of the fabric of his shirt. “It must have been exhausting.”

“Don't apologize. All the way I was prayin’ I wasn't bringin’ ya here just to bury ya.” His chest vibrates, moving up and down as he breathes.

“You kept me alive.” Taking a deep breath, you rub your hand on his chest, as if making sure he's really here. Your hero. You will never understand why he did that, or how much trouble he put himself through to get you here, to save you. “Your voice was the only thing calling me back into consciousness and... For so long I just wanted to die already but you... You made me want to try. To live.”

“And ya will live now. I promise ya, (Y/N).”

A small, quick smile comes to your lips. Even though it's gone too soon, it feels good to know you still that the capacity to do such a thing.

And it happens again, in the morning after, when you open your eyes to find Daryl still in the bed with you.

@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy @twdeadfanfic @soraitmnt @winchester-angel @bvbwestfall @shawtygonemad @cameronsails @pulplorrd

#daryl imagine #imagine daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #imagine daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead x reader #imagine the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Red Roses, Red Roses

Rated: 16+ For graphic descriptions of violence and gore, brief mentions of rape, mentions of torture, mentions of abuse, and disturbing images.

Masterlist

~All the pretty girls, they find

A way to keep you on my mind

I swear I heard you singing along

Cities pass like candy stores

And you're the one

I'm looking for

And so

I'm just a boy

Who's telling a girl

That when I grow up I'll buy you a rose

When I grow up, I'll buy you a rose~

"Okay, but what is the proper plural form of Nephilim?" I asked from the back seat of the Impala as it drove through the winding roads from the bunker and into town. "See, 'cause ' Nephilims ' sounds weird. So, is it ' Nephili ' like ' octopi ', or could it be ' Nephilice ' like ' mice '? I need to know this, guys."

The car was silent. Sam, Cas, and Jack were all thinking over the answer to my question and Dean was just rolling his eyes in the mirror.

"Maybe-" Sam started slowly "-Maybe it's just 'Nephilim'. You know, like ' moose '?"

"Yeah, that kinda sounds right, I guess." I nodded. Dean laughed and shook his head, glancing at me in the mirror. "What?"

"Oh, nothin'." He waved a hand. "I just don't get ya' is all."

"Yeah, neither do I." I shrugged and Jack must have found something funny because he snickered. "But what is it that you don't get?"

Dean shrugged. "I mean, I know you get rattled; Felix scares you and I get that. But you just take everything else in stride! How do you do that? I just- I don't get it."

"I told you this, Dean. I'm good at hiding my reactions to things and if I can't hide them then I use them to gain sympathy from others." I glanced at Jack, catching his eye. "At least, that's what I do until I can really trust somebody."

Jack smiled a little and tugged me closer into his side. He had been acting sorta weird since we'd all piled into the Impala for the drive into town. Jack had wrapped his arm around my waist and held me tight against him, almost as if he was keeping me away from the trench-coated angel on my other side. He kept shooting Cas these weird glances and I couldn't help but wonder what they could be about. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought that Jack was being possessive.

Not that I was complaining about our close proximity or anything! Jack was really warm and winter in Kansas was, shall we say, not. Who was I to turn down free cuddles? Although those cuddles did kinda make me want to sink my teeth into him. He smelled so sweet and his skin looked so frustratingly soft. Maybe one of these nights I could sneak into his room and get a taste. That could make things better, I mean, half the torture of being around him was the curiosity of not knowing.

"And we're here!"

Sam's voice knocked me out of that potentially devastating train of thought and I followed Jack out of the car. Okay, ' followed ' is the wrong word. Jack pretty much just pulled me out of the car with him. He didn't let go of me. Weird.

The town of Lebanon, Kansas reminded me quite a bit of Copper Harbor. The main difference was that Lebanon was bigger... A lot bigger. The buildings were small and friendly, made of red brick and wooden doors and windows with glass that bulged out at the bottom. The streetlamps were iron and curled over the street as they should and there were planter boxes underneath display windows. The whole town just breathed in a way that said ' stay awhile '.

"It's Christmas time," I noted aloud, "I almost forgot."

There were colorful lights wrapped around poles and wreaths hung on doors with bells that jingled when they opened. There were even speakers placed outside that filled the air with all sorts of holiday music and I felt a smile split across my face as I started to sing along.

"Oh, no. Don't tell me you sing too," Dean chuckled as he held open the door of a discount clothing store. I was about to say something witty as a response but Jack beat me to the chance.

"She does! She sang to me last night," He said, smiling down at me. Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at the acute lack of space between us. Jack noticed and let go of my waist.

"Oh yeah? And how was that?" Dean asked, smirking.

Jack's brow's furrowed and his head tilted as he eyed me like he was trying to remember something.

"It was..."

' Please don't say anything that'll get me dead! ' I pleaded silently.

"It was magical ."

Sam, Dean, and Cas all shared a strange look, but before anything more could be said, the shopkeeper waltzed in from the back room.

Her silver hair was cut short and straight with the ends tucked around her chin. She was a short, thin woman probably in her late forties or early fifties with a not-a-hair-out-of-place sort of attitude. I would bet twenty bucks that her name was Christie spelled with a 'Ch' that she would be sure to remind us of. Click-clacking her way over to us in a pair of atrociously hot pink six-inch heels, the woman regarded us over the tops of her thick, rectangular glasses which hung on a chain around her neck. She flicked her eyes over each person individually in a way that reeked of silent judgment and when her eyes landed on me I was tempted to flip her off. When she was satisfied that she knew everything there was to know about us, the woman fixed a painfully fake smile onto her face and greeted us, speaking slowly like we were uneducated simpletons.

"Well, hi there all! My name's Christie with a 'Ch', you know, like in 'Christmas'? What are your names?"

Called it.

"Hey, Christie. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam, standing really creepily behind me is Cas, and this one here is his son Jack." Dean pointed as he introduced everyone, sounding annoyed as if this was his tenth time meeting Christie which it probably was. "We're lookin' to get Marty here some warm clothes. Got anything, ah, petite?"

I shot Dean a pointed look to which he just smirked. It wasn't my fault he and his brother were so freakishly tall. In front of us, Christie ignored his request to do business and kept on chatting.

"Sam and Dean Winchester? I remember you, boys. Why didn't you tell me one of you had a daughter as pretty as this little vision? Is she yours, Sam? She looks a bit like you," She cooed, stroking my hair as if that was a socially acceptable thing to do. I almost bit her hand off but smiled instead. Her question caught Sam off guard.

"No, no. Marty's not my daughter," He chuckled nervously, shaking his head.

"Oh! My mistake. Is she yours, Dean?"

"What? No! O'corse not!"

I nearly smacked my face with my palm. Were these guys trying to look like kidnappers? Considering their age and the way I was dressed, oh yeah, this totally looked like a kidnapping.

Christie frowned and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to her side. Jack reached for me but Christie pulled me further away, glaring at him.

"Oh, dear me. I shouldn't be calling the police on you boys now, should I?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, trying to come up with some sort of excuse and Christie was already pulling out her phone. A very Isaac-like idea popped into my brain. I rolled my eyes and huffed, pushing away from Christie.

"Ugh! Why do you guys have to be so weird about it? I mean, if you have to dress like child abductors then you could at least try not to act like it!" I turned to Christie, shaking my head. "Yeah, sorry about them, ma'am. It's a really long and scandalous story and you probably don't wanna hear the details, but I'm not being kidnapped, I promise."

Christie perked up at the mention of scandal, she was probably just itching for some juicy gossip to spread around at one of her knitting meetings.

"Well, I should probably hear the whole story just to make sure," She said, almost buzzing with excitement.

"Are you sure?" I baited, "It's pretty bad!"

"Oh, you can tell me, hon! I won't tell anybody."

Liar, liar, pants on fire!

"Alright, so long story short, my mom is Cas's aunt and she's a slut who cheated on my dad, who's a straight-up loser. So, he only found out that I'm not his just last week and filed for divorce within two days because he finally has an excuse to get rid of me now. Except, surprise-surprise, my mom never wanted me either because I'm a useless mistake and so they both threw me to child support which Cas here saved me from because he's a decent human being!" I finished my rant of bull crap and inhaled deeply. Christie had bought every word.

"Aw, you poor baby! You get a discount, sweetheart, and if one of your parents ever comes in here I'm gonna wring their neck!" She continued babbling as she led us through the store while Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack all stared at me like I had eight heads. I smirked at them and shrugged a little.

Five hours and six oversized bags of clothes later and we were out of that store. We crossed the street and collapsed on some benches outside a diner, remaining silent for a while.

"That was worse than Hell!" Dean complained, tugging his boots off and rubbing his sore feet. "If I had to hear that woman talk for one more minute, I might have slit her throat!"

The rest of us made noises of agreement. Well, all except Jack who just shrugged.

"I thought she was nice," He said, though he too looked worn out.

"That wasn't nice, Jack. That was prying," Cas corrected him.

"Yeah," I agreed, "I wasn't sure how much more crap I could spout about your aunt, Cas!"

"Yeah, um, speaking of," Sam cut in, "You had that whole thing pretty handled, Marty. Where'd all that stuff come from anyway?"

"I've been on my own since I was nine, Sam," I lied, lowering my head and picking at my jeans.

"I get that, but-"

" Since I was nine , Sam ." I glanced up to see Sam's mouth form into an 'O' of understanding. I looked away again, quieting my voice. "I know how to make up excuses that people won't question."

"Ah."

"You are quite the liar, Martina," Cas spoke up with a tilt of his head. The way his words curled in on one another made it impossible for me to tell whether his statement was one of praise, suspicion, or both. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jack eyeing Cas, his lip curled in a scowl that looked unnatural when displayed by his gentle features.

I didn't look up at the angel sitting in front of me. A tight smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I tapped the pads of my fingers against my knees.

"You don't trust me do you, Castiel?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral. Cas sighed and shook his head; I watched Jack's hands clench into fists.

"No. No, I don't," He said, eyeing Jack's reactions as well.

"Why not?" I still didn't look up, feeling the angel's gaze shift to me.

"You lie so easily to others, and you do it very well. What's to stop you from doing the same to us?" For once, Castiel's tone didn't seem accusatory. He sounded truly curious and... understanding almost. His words were something close to gentle.

"Nothing, really," I answered honestly, "For five years, it was just me . I had Isaac but I still felt so alone . I felt so small and scared and purposeless . All I did was run and hide, it was like I was just waiting to die. So, when you guys offered me protection, I couldn't say no. I couldn't say no, even if I didn't actually need it."

"Didn't need it? What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, leaning his elbows on his knees. I shrugged.

"You guys saw a small kid getting attacked in that alleyway and you helped her out. You just made the same mistake that everybody does."

"And what mistake is that?" Cas pressed, squinting curiously.

"Thinking that small means the same thing as helpless," I took a deep breath, shaking my head, "It doesn't, and I'm not. I told you I was clever, you just never stopped to think about what that meant. What you guys don't seem to get is that I survived for five years . I was just scared that if you knew then you would leave me there alone and I- I just couldn't."

"So, you lied to us?" Sam asked with a frown. I nodded.

"I did. I lied to you and I'm sorry."

"We wouldn't have turned you away, Marty," Jack said, softly grasping my hand.

"I think somewhere deep down I knew that. There were just these things I had to do to survive and I was so scared that if you knew about them, then you wouldn't want me. So, I lied. Because the only thing I could think about was how I just couldn't be alone anymore." I laughed in spite of myself.

Jack nodded solemnly before glancing up and getting distracted by something across the street. His face lit up as he let go of my hand and stood, bounding towards whatever had caught his attention. I didn't bother to watch him.

"Look, Marty," Dean sighed and shook his head a bit, "You seem like a pretty sweet kid and I like you, a lot. Now, I may not know everything about your past, but I know from experience that the only thing that can make up for your mistakes is trying your best to do the right thing now. I wanna trust you, Marty. We all do. But if you keep all these secrets, then we can't do that. So, can you promise us just one thing?"

"Name it."

"No more lies?"

"No more lies," I lied.

"Good." Sam smiled. "So, is there anything else we should know about you?"

There were so many things. None of which I could tell.

"Well, there might be one thing."

"What?"

I opened my mouth to speak but I was cut off by a flower being presented before my eyes. The flower was a rose and the rose was white. It was gorgeous and perfect, there wasn't a single flaw on any of the smooth petals and it was just one step short of full bloom.

There was a hand attached to the rose and I plucked the flower from his fingers, twirling it between my own.

"What's this for?" I asked as I looked up at Jack who beamed down at me the way I remember summer sunshine being like.

"It reminds me of you," He said simply.

"Why?" I chuckled.

"Um, because you said that you pretended to be innocent and helpless because you thought that nobody would want you if they knew otherwise. So, um, I-" He gestured to the rose's thorn-covered stem. "Well, t-this one has spiky-things on it."

"So, it does." I nodded, giggling at his strange explanation. Jack flashed me a grin and continued.

"At first, I thought it was just beautiful, like you, and I didn't see the spiky things until I picked it up. When I touched it, it hurt, but I took it anyway. See, it's still beautiful - even with the spikes - I still wanted it. So, I want you to know that even if you have spikes, I still want you."

Around. There was an ' around ' tagged on the end of that sentence, he just forgot to put it there. Right?

"Thank you, puppy. That was very sweet," I said, catching a glimpse of the flower cart across the street where he must have gotten it. The cart was unattended. In fact, the whole street was oddly empty. It was Christmas time, the street shouldn't have been empty, but it was and that gave me a very bad feeling.

Jack smiled so innocently it made me want to cry.

"You're welcome!"

"You paid for this though, right?"

Jack's face immediately told me the answer. "Is it not for free?"

"Nope, you stole it. You're criminal now," I joked.

"Oh." Jack frowned for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Well, when we grow up, I'll buy you one."

I had the chance to say something witty, so naturally, I replied with:

"Cool."

I mentally slapped myself. Of course, he says something cute and all I say back is ' cool '. My brain hates me.

I felt my cheeks heating up, so I ducked my head down. Deciding that we were in a shaded enough spot, I tugged the light-teal-colored baseball cap off my head. (I had been using it to hide my face from the harsh burning of the sunlight that drifted over the town.) The cap had a manatee sewn on the front and was one of the few things I had brought with me from my past life on the sunny shores of Florida. Laying the hat in my lap, I pulled my thick black braid over my shoulder and proceeded to weave the rose's stem into it loosely. Then, I flipped my hair back and smashed the baseball cap back on my head.

Meanwhile, the angel boy just smiled down at me as if he hadn't just said some of the kindest words I'd heard in five years. My cheeks felt like they were on fire and suddenly my shoes were extraordinarily interesting.

My attention was drawn away, however, when out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cas's back go ramrod straight. His head tilted to the side like he was listening for something, his eyes narrowing to one-quarter squint power.

"Cas?" Dean called to his friend. More like their friend, really, Sam and Jack were his family too. I guess I couldn't bring myself to call the angel my friend while I was lying to his face about everything I was.

"There are monsters somewhere here, I can sense them," Castiel said quietly. Jack stopped and tilted his head like Cas, focusing.

"I sense them too," He reported, glancing at me, "They're vampires." I sat up a little straighter.

"Put your shoes back on, Dean. You cannot rest while enemies are nearby," I said, smiling wryly and letting an edge of nervousness creep into my voice.

"How many are there?" Dean demanded, already taking charge.

Cas squinted harder. "Seven... Wait, no. There are eight."

"Where? C-can you sense that?" Sam asked.

"No-" Cas shook his head before turning to his surrogate son. "-But Jack can."

Cas sent a small nod to Jack who nodded back and directed his gaze upward, stretching out a hand. His eyes flicked into glistening gold and I could feel my hair stand on end as the air became charged with raw power. For a split second, I almost thought I saw the outline of feathered appendages sprouting from the boy's back. Then, Jack's eyes flickered back into their crystalline blue and I shook the after image away. Whatever I had thought I'd seen was gone before I could register it.

"There are two of them hiding in an alley about thirty yards that way-" He pointed to the left "-and there are five more. They're waiting for an ambush? I think? They're over there. In that really suspicious-looking grey van parked four cars down." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and I leaned over to glance at the car. Jack had been right, the van totally looked like it belonged to the mafia or something.

"What about the last one?" Dean pressed, his eyes shifting around to examine his environment. Jack shook his head.

"I-I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I mean, I can sense it - I know it's here somewhere - but it's cloudy. I can't tell exactly where; it's like it's everywhere and nowhere at the same time."

Jack called the vampire an ' It '. Of course, he did. It was a vampire. It was a monster. What else does one call a monster? What else does one call a thing like that? After all, that's all it was; that's all I was. A thing . Not a someone, not a person, not a friend . A thing . A pest , a nuisance , a parasite to be eradicated. Skrew all Jack's kind words and endearing actions; they didn't mean anything! He could never really love me back. It was only a matter of time before he realized that. It was only a matter of time before he started calling me ' It '.

' How long will that be, I wonder .'

I was pulled from my thoughts by a scream. It rang, high and sharp, and it echoed off the brick buildings.

"HELP! HELP ME!" A woman's voice cried.

"Max?" Jack whispered, his eyes going wide. I didn't know who that was and apparently, neither did Dean as he flung his strong arm out in front of Jack who began to sprint towards the sound.

"Who?" Dean demanded. Jack struggled to push past him but Dean wouldn't budge.

"That-that's Max! She's my friend! Those things have her! She needs our help!" He explained impatiently. Dean's face scrunched up.

"Wait, wait. Max? Teenage girl? White hair? 'Bout yea high?" The elder Winchester made a height comparison with his hand and Jack rolled his eyes.

"Yes! Now, come on!" Jack huffed.

"Oh ho! So that's why you're not going for abandonment issues over there?" Dean teased. Letting go of Jack, they started towards the sound of screaming. "Does Jack-Jack have a girlfriend?"

Jack stopped and faced Dean, confusion written across his brow. "Max already has a girlfriend."

"Oh."

The two dorks were brought back to reality when that Max girl screamed again.

"SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!"

Her voice was followed by another, a boy this time.

"HEY! HEY! HELP! ANYBODY! HELP US!"

"That's Eliot!" Jack took off down the street at a full-on sprint. Dean, Sam, and Cas hot on his heels.

"No, no! Please, go on ahead without me," I muttered, sarcastically, "Save the damsel! I'll just... wait here then."

Huh. Max and Eliot. I felt like those names should be switched around, but then again, I go by Marty, so who am I to judge?

Out of nowhere, I felt a stinging pain in my shoulder. A syringe. I knew the feeling well. Before I could react, the pain suddenly doubled, rapidly spreading all throughout my body like a viral infection.

Dead man's blood.

I whipped my head to the left to meet an all too familiar pair of brown eyes.

"What's bouzzin' gousin?" An accented voice jeered.

Then everything was black.

***

The vampires were taken care of rather easily. Jack felt like a Jedi Knight as he suspended them in the air, stringing them up like the murderers they were. They didn't even struggle. Like convicts dangling from a hangman's noose, the vampires knew as soon as they saw Jack's glowing eyes, that their deaths were nigh at hand. Jack thrust out a hand and caught them in the pulsing rings of his grace, a sound like drum beats underwater reverberating off the alley walls. With a grin, the boy clenched his hand into a fist and the monsters splintered into not but dust.

With the threat eradicated, the glow in Jack's eyes flickered out and he turned to the high-schoolers who he considered his friends.

"Hello, Max! Hello, Eliot! It's alright, you're safe now," He chimed, nodding to each kid in turn and lifting his hand in greeting, though he refrained from actually waving it. Upon seeing him raise his hand, the kids shared a look of sheer terror and backed away. Jack frowned at their reactions, lowering his hand. "No, no! Wait, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you!"

Max and Eliot paused, trying to determine whether or not they believed him.

Unbeknownst to Jack, Max and Eliot didn't actually like him. ( After finding out about the supernatural, the teens were disappointed when the Winchesters refused to tell them more about spirits and monsters. Enter Jack, and his unfortunate lack of talent in terms of keeping his trap shut. ) Max and Eliot had only hung out with Jack once, and that was exclusive because they knew that he lived with the Winchesters. Against his better judgment, Jack had shown them a glimpse of his powers and though they thought his telekinesis was cool, the teens had agreed not to search the boy out again.

There was just something about Jack that unsettled them, frightened them, terrified them. Just like every other human who had seen what Jack could do; deep down, they were all afraid of him. Because he wasn't normal, he wasn't right, he wasn't human .

"What did you just do to those guys?" Eliot asked, staring with eyes as wide as quarters. Jack thought it would be better not to answer that question.

"It's okay! They were monsters," He reassured.

"He disintegrated them," Cas deadpanned. Dean shot the angel a look. "What?"

"YOU DISINTEGRATED THEM?!" Max screeched loud enough to make Jack flinch.

"Yes?"

"You didn't just, like, proof em' away or something?" Eliot added, a little quieter.

"Um, no. No, I didn't."

"COULD YOU DO THAT TO US?!"

"Most likely, yes," Jack answered, thoughtfully, "I've never tried it on humans, though. But I would never hurt you guys, you're my friends!"

"You're really freaky, dude," Elliot said, shaking his head slowly, "And, like, not in a good way."

"I know." Jack hung his head. They were afraid of him. They hated him. He shouldn't have expected otherwise.

"I'm never gonna be able to un-see that," Max muttered, staring at the cement.

That gave Jack an idea, maybe there was a way to undo this.

"I know you're probably freaking out, but I think I know a way to make it better," He said, trying to sound reassuring.

"Nah, man. I don't want any of your freaky Aquaman powers used on me!" Eliot shook his head.

"No powers." Jack smiled despite how badly their words hurt. "I promise."

His stomach twisted with the lie, but they didn't need to know that. Max and Eliot shared another glance.

"Okay..." They agreed, hesitantly.

"I have a friend. Her name is Marty," Jack explained, leading them back to the bench where his family had left the girl. "She's right here!"

Except she wasn't.

That's when the Nephilim's phone rang.

It was a picture message. Marty sat unconscious tied to a chair in some shack. The text read:

"I really would hate to incur the wrath of the Winchesters, so consider this a ransom note. All you have to do is find her in time. Tick-tock. ~ Felix "

Max peered over Jack's shoulder.

"Hey! I know that place!"

***

"Welcomb back to the land of the livinc' where the livinc' are, in fact, dead!"

Okay, so she knew I was awake. I kept my eyes closed anyway and canvassed my new environment. Having grown up blind, I didn't need my eyes to see.

My hands were bound with zip-ties to the arms of the splintering wooden chair I sat in. The space around me was large but not cavernous as there was no echo. This was a shack of some kind judging by how the metal panels making up the roof clanged against one another in the wind. The shack was also dark to protect vampire skin from the sun, and in winter, no sun meant freezing temperatures. There was a weight covering my lap; someone had given me a blanket. I caught the scent of hay among other less pleasurable farm smells. I could hear the shifting of five pairs of feet surrounding me in a circle. This was going to be fun.

Opening my eyes, at last, I was met with the sight of a young woman around the age of twenty-two, lounging on a few hay bails. She was long, lean, and muscular with a round face displaying a crooked smile. I could see the end of a tie-dyed shirt sticking out beneath the fluffy black coat she wore. Her green and purple hair was chopped short in a punk rocker pixie cut that stuck out in at least five different directions. If I wasn't mistaken, a few of the strands appeared to be scorched on the ends. Her cheekbones were low and prominent and plenty rosy. She had full lips and a button nose that was home to two tiny diamond studs. The woman wore her dark green eyeshadow with plum-colored lipstick unapologetically. Her eyes, which were set deeper than most, turned down at the corners and sparkled with mischief. They were accompanied by thick dark eyebrows, the left of which had apparently gotten a third piercing since I had last seen her.

"Ah hah! So she is alive!" She said, her thick Dutch accent coating her words, "I was begininc' to worry that you had follen asleep... Again."

I shrugged despite my restraints.

"Yeah, well I can only sleep-in so long."

"You never were a morninc' person, were you?" The woman sighed, shaking her head. I watched her arrow-head pendant as it swung back and forth from her neck.

"Nope."

"And dat's why we're frien'ds!" She chirped.

"We're not friends, Elwyn." Okay, so maybe that was a bit harsh but it was better than pretending like everything was fine and dandy between us. Elwyn faked a gasp.

"You used my fuoll name! You muss be serious. Why so c'old, mijn lieve ?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Spending five years as a walking corpse will do that to you," I answered, smiling thinly. "Why are you here, Elwyn? What's this act for? We both know that if I wanted to walk out of here right now, I could do so without a scratch on me. What do you want?"

"You might 'ave been able to woltz out of 'ere if you had a full tanc', dat's true." Elwyn nodded, in agreement. Then she tilted her head and frowned at me with pouty lips. "But you're quite weak now. I'm sorry, hones'ly. I t'ought dat you'd be able to 'andle dat much dead man's blood but you still look pale an' shaiky!"

"Well, I've always been pale," I replied, narrowing my eyes. Elwyn sat up, crossing her legs and putting a fist to her chin. Her brows furrowed and she looked at me with what seemed to be genuine concern for my well-being.

"How lon'g has it been since you fed, liefste ?" She asked in a gentler tone.

"A little over two weeks," I answered honestly.

"Two weeks?! Nothinc'? Not even somethinc' piffy, like a ra'bbit?"

I shook my head and shrugged.

"Oh, jij arme ding ! I know you ha'te it, but how could you do dis' du yourself?!" She cried, shaking her head in dismay. I looked away. Deep down I knew that Elwyn really did care about me, albeit in her own strange way. I was being harsh with her and that wasn't exactly fair. She was Felix's prisoner too.

"I more than hate it, Ellie," I said, speaking softer now, "But I just couldn't find a good opportunity. Besides, I can take it."

Elwyn rolled her chocolate-brown eyes.

"No you gan't, Mardina! Look at yourself! You're runninc' on foomes and it shows!" Elwyn huffed, her accident becoming more prominent as her emotion shown through. "Be hones'd wit me, dis is because of dose Win-kesters, isn't it?"

"Not exactly," I said, picking at a splinter on the wooden arm-rest. I knew the real reason and it was a stupid one. I mean, of all the ways to try to be better, starving myself to the breaking point probably wasn't the smartest. But I wanted to be good, pure. I wanted to be human. For him.

"Ah, I see." Elwyn smiled softly. "I was told aboud dat Nephilim boy, the rumors were wrong about him. I was watchinc' you two today; he's not a ragink' monster at all."

"No, he's not." I shook my head.

"He's a zoet wezen , no?" Elwyn chuckled to herself, "Sorry, I don' know de word for it in English."

I nodded. The closest translation of her Dutch was ' sweet creature '. It fit.

"What's his name?" Elwyn asked without the slightest bit of hostility.

I smiled. "His name is Jack."

" Hou je van hem ?"

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. Elwyn smiled knowingly.

"Yes, you do. And if what I saw was any indication, he feels the same."

"No, he doesn't, Ellie," I sighed and gestured to the child body I was trapped in. "He can't. Just look at me! I'm just a sister to him and if he knew what I really am then he'd hate me!"

"So, dat's what dis is about." Elwyn nodded with understanding.

"What do you mean?"

"You t'ink yourself bad, so you want du be good for him. Dat's why you 'aven't been feeding," She explained, sounding matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, I guess so." I looked away.

"Well, das not good!" Elwyn leaned forward and cut the zip-ties that held me to the chair. Then she reached behind her and fished around a bit until she pulled her arm back and held it out to me, a blood bag resting in her palm. "Have a snack now and your engel jongen will never know!"

I glanced at it for a moment but it didn't take much to break my willpower. I snatched the bag from her hand and ripped it open, downing it like there was no tomorrow.

"You gan slow down, geliefde. I brough't more." Elwyn chuckled.

"You did?" I asked looking up.

"I had a sneakinc' suspission dat dis was goin'c du 'appen." She shrugged, tossing me another bag which I ripped into also. She reached behind her again, this time tugging around a small cooler full of the stuff which she pushed over to me. "I admire your willpower, Mardina. I don t'ink I'd have de kinda strengt for what you're pullinc'. How'd you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, halfway through my second bag.

"Live with dose 'unters day in an' day out!" She exclaimed, "Esspecialy dat e ngel jongen ! Da kid smells like garamel chocolate! I envy your gontrol. How'd you stan' so close to him? I was eighty-feet away and I gould 'ardly gontrol myself!"

Well, at least I wasn't the only one.

"I gotta keep up apperences, Ellie. You know all about that." I knew I sounded guarded, but this subject made me uncomfortable.

"But you gould still get a taste. I know you gan make pepole forget t'ings."

I sighed, finishing my second bag and grabbing another.

"You know, Elwyn? You almost got me." I smiled, shaking my head.

"What do you mean?" She asked, feigning obliviousness.

"For a second there, I almost thought you were still my friend."

"I am your friend," Elwyn insisted, "I defied Felix for you!"

"Then you ran right back to him the second I turned my back."

"I had too," She spoke, her voice regretful.

"No! No you didn't! You chose too. You chose him over me !"

" Hij is mijn vader ! Ik moest !" Elwyn cried. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

"I don't care!" I shouted back, "We were free! We both could have been free! But no, you chose to leave me all alone in the middle of the woods!"

"I knew you'd be fine," She whispered. I shook my head, pressing my lips together.

"No, you didn't," I growled. "Do you have any idea how long I wandered for?!"

"You made it out."

"Not in one peace. I lost things in there, Elwyn." I shook my head. "You left me there." Then, I let out a harsh, rasping, laugh and spat my next words. "And for what? To run right back into the arms of the father that never even loved you!"

Elwyn hung her head. " Het spijt me zeer. I'm so sorry."

"You should be," I said, cooly. "Why do you always run back to him? And don't give me any of that ' he's my father ' bull crap."

"I don know. But what I do know is dat I am still your friend."

"Right." I nodded, smiling through tight lips. "Why are you really here, Elwyn?"

She took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that had slipped down her face, and looked up. "I game 'ere to save you," She said.

"Excuse me?"

"From dose 'unters!" She explained, "Felix told me dat you were with de Win-kesters and I begged him to let me c'ome rescue you. An' he said yes! He's so much kinder den he used to be; he promised dat he wouldn' make you do anyt'ing you didn' want to!"

Elwyn smiled at me and took my hand.

"Oh, yeah?" I scoffed, "Then what was that phone call, huh? What? Is killing my friend supposed to win me over?"

"Hey, I said dat Felix is kinder den he was." Elwyn sighed. "He's still Felix though. He was tryinc' to intimidate de Win-kesters into letting you go."

"I'm not being held hostage!" I insisted.

"But you are still in danger!" Her eyes softened, "Dey will kill you if dey find out what you are."

"I know."

"C'ome with me," She pleaded, "C'ome with me, an' Jack will never find out about you. C'ome with me an' he'll never break your heart."

I paused. Was there really any chance?

No. There was no chance. No chance that Felix could ever change. It was one in a million. There was no chance and no choice .

"If you're really here to save me, then what's with your little posse?" The five other vampires had been unusually quiet for idiots of their caliber.

Elwyn shrugged. "In case t'ings get messy."

"We'll, then you better plan on things getting messy because I'm not coming with you," I said with a smirk.

"Why not?"

"Because Felix wants me dead, Elwyn, and that's not going to change."

The woman's face fell.

"I know you didn' mean to kill Madra," She whispered, gently. I shook my head and frowned.

"I didn't kill her," I hissed, "Felix killed his soulmate, not me."

"And he sees dat now. He knows dat it wasn' your fault, dat you couldn't gontrol it. He realises dat and he forgives you!" She smiled a little.

"And how many times did he have to beat you before he realized that?"

"C'ome on, Mardina!" She sighed, though I could see the pain her eyes hid. "Dis is an olive branch! Jus' take it!"

I shook my head and I laughed. I laughed long and loud and hard. I laughed like a girl gone mad. I had told Elwyn that I had lost something when she had left me in those woods, I wanted her to know what it was.

"No," I said. Then I stretched my bloody lips into a mad, humorless grin, "I don't want your olive branch."

"Why not? Its your best chance! Don you want peace?"

"Peace? PEACE?! " I spat, "You know what he did to me, what he made me! You think after every thing he took away, that I would want peace ? You think after what I did, Felix would offer me peace?"

"I don't want peace," I said, beginning the rhyme I'd heard when I was still alive, "I want war and I want my enemy's head hung like a boar. I didn't come for money and I don't want his crown, see, I've come to burn his kingdom down. So, come one, come all, to take a dance with the dead and stain the petals of the white roses red."

"Mardina, please!"

The other vampires in the room shifted, readying for a fight. But I was faster.

Launching myself from that splintering wooden chair, I threw my body forward towards the stack of haybales Elwyn had previously sat on. I had to jump to avoid the vamp that tried to grab my legs and that pushed me forward a little too much but it wasn't something I couldn't compensate for. Landing on my hands, I shoved my body up, and over the hay bales in a vamp strength enhanced backflip. I landed on my feet and flipped my hair back. The shed's door was in front of me. Sure, it was locked but the lock was only one of those slidey metal bars which are super easy to break and if I was going to fight five vamps at once, it would be wise to keep my back to the door that way I might be able to be thrown through the door and land outside instead of pushed into a dead-end wall. Also, if I was going to fight five vamps at once, I was going to need the proper tool for the job. Beside the door, my eyes landed on a tool rack. I spied my weapon of choice. This was going to be fun .

It was one of those weird four-prong rakes that I'm not completely sure is called a rake. A label on the shaft said it was a soil cultivator but I didn't care what it was called because I was fighting for my life. The four prongs were about five inches long and although the shed wasn't new, the equipment in there thankfully wasn't that old, so the four steel prongs were still wicked sharp.

I ducked, dodging the arms of another vamp before rushing for the tool rack. Another vamp sprang in front of me, blocking my way and I paused. This one had bleach-blond chin-length hair. I knew him. I remembered him from when I was in Felix's cage. This one's name was Boyd and he liked to touch things that didn't belong to him. I couldn't fight back then, but I could now.

"How's it goin', Boyd?"

"So, you remember me, do ya?" He jeered, beginning to circle me like a predator circling its prey. Little did he know, he was not the predator here.

"Oh, I remember you alright. See, Boyd, I'm not a good little girl-" He used to call me that, "- not anymore. I don't do what I'm supposed to. See, when it comes to bastards like you, I don't forgive and I most certainly don't forget."

"Well, I guess its a real shame that I forgot your name, then. You were one of my favorites!" He laughed, "Only thing I remember 'bout you now is how loud you used to scream."

I gave him a cold smile and lunged straight for his legs. Grasping his ankle, I twisted and pulled, sending him crashing to the floor. Then I lifted his leg, rolled over, and slammed my arm down on his knee. There was an ear-splitting snap and he screeched like an animal.

"Who's screaming now, Boyd?" I taunted. I sprung up and stomped down on Boyd's throat, crushing his windpipe. As a vampire, that wouldn't kill him which was good because I wasn't done with him yet. I was going to make him hurt. Why would I want peace when I could have revenge? Revenge felt good.

I rolled away when a red-haired vamp took a swing at my head. I bolted for the four-prong rake and brandished it the way you would a staff. The rake was long, about three inches taller than me, but I easily found the balance point. I spun it around in my hand as I circled the other four vamps.

"Mardina, we gan talk aboud dis!" Elwyn tried, grabbing my arm. I threw my head back and laughed.

"No, Ellie. We can't!" I flipped the rake over, using the blunt end to whack Elwyn upside the head with supernatural strength and speed. She was knocked out. "Stay down. You're not like them and I don't want to kill you."

The red-haired vamp ran at me again and I spun out of the way, flipping the shaft again and swinging it down as he passed me. Two of the prongs buried themselves in the base of the vamp's spine, judging by the position, between two vertebrae. He howled and tried to claw at my arm but I easily avoided him. A female vamp shrieked for her friend and lunged at me from the left.

I rolled my eyes. Pushing on the shaft of my rake I distanced myself from the redhead vamp and ducked away from the female's fangs. I reached out and grabbed her shirt, using it to pull her down towards me. I slammed my head into hers once, then twice to daze her. She stumbled as I let go and switched to grabbing the hair at the base of her neck.

"Night-night, cupcake!" I chirped. Then I slammed her face into my knee and tossed my weight over her shoulder, sliding my arm around her neck. I pulled backward.

That blissful crack was the sound of her neck snapping. Jumping up and using the wall to gain some momentum, I twisted the vamp's head all the way around. It was easy with nothing but tissue and tendons in my way. Her body dangled limp from where I held her by the hair, so I opened my mouth, letting my fangs extend, and I bit her head off.

The redhead vamp with my rake still stuck in him cried out and tried in vain to reach me again. It was pathetic, really. Grinning, I wrenched the rake upward, severing the vamp's spinal cord and pulling the prongs along with two of his vertebrae straight through his back. He fell to the ground, paralyzed from the waist down because two of his bones were missing.

Just as I was about to remove his dreadful cranium from his miserable shoulders, one of the other vamps jumped at me, managing to rake his grotesquely long fingernails along my back. I released no cry of pain as he tore through my skin before grabbing me by my shoulders and hurtling my body at the wall. My face slammed against a pole built into the metal siding as the rest of my body just hit the wall. I landed on the ground with a jarring impact that I was sure had broken a few things. But I couldn't feel the pain. I was too focused on my rage. I was seeing red, and for the first time, I welcomed it without fear.

"Not so tough now are ya?" He called out.

My body was broken and yet I stood. I felt invincible.

"I know I'm not tough," I laughed. I wiped away the blood that was dripping from my mouth and nose, looking up to smile pleasantly at the vamp. "But you wanna know what I am?"

"What?"

"I'm insane, and that tends to make up for the rest."

The vamp charged me but I twisted around and Spartan kicked him into the wall. Then, using a few hay bails to step on, I vaulted into the air and brought the rake down on the vamp's head, piercing through his skull and embedding the prongs in his brain. The spray was a little gross but I didn't care. He deserved it.

"You're next, pumpkin," I called to the last vampire left standing in the room.

I crossed over to him and he managed to block my first two blows but then I smashed the blunt end of the rake into his face a few times and he was unconscious. I heard a groan and turned on my heel.

"And that brings us back to you, Boydie-Boo!" I cheered, stepping on the paralyzed vamp's hand as I passed him. I leaned over Boyd who was still on the ground, gasping for air. "Hello, sweetie. How are we today?"

All Boyd did was gasp and choke, he couldn't speak as his vocal cords had been stepped on.

"Aw! Did you get a boo-boo?" I pouted at him.

Then I grabbed Boyd by the throat at lifted him into the air. He struggled against my grasp but could do nothing. He couldn't even beg.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Can't you scream for me?"

He shook his head and spat at me. So, I threw him into a wall. Boyd fought to stand, using the wall to stagger upright.

"Come on, Boyd! Fight! Are you going to let yourself be beaten by a girl?!" I taunted him and pulled on the fear that was already constricting his mind. Revenge felt so good.

"You-you're not a girl," He panted, "You're a monster!"

I hummed, tapping my chin with my finger.

"I guess history will have to be the judge of that, now won't it, buddy-Boyd?" I dragged my rake along the ground, though all the blood of his friends. There was a wonderful metallic grating noise as the prongs scrapped across the concrete.

"Please don't! Please! I'll do anything!" It felt good to hear him beg.

"Unfortunately," I continued, "I don't think you'll be around to plead your case!" I hefted the rake.

"No! PLEASE!"

"Bye-bye, Boydie-boo!"

I swung the rake upward with all my might and with a sickening crunch I rammed its prongs up through his jaw. I said I wanted him to suffer. Pulling him by the prongs in his face I brought his screaming form over to the tractor sitting at the back of the room. I rammed the shaft of the rake through two spokes of one of the tractor's wheels. All it took was the flip of a leaver to send the wheels spinning.

Turn, turn, turn and scream, scream, scream, then a nice snap, crackle, pop, and then suddenly, Boyd's head and body were two separate objects. I was very happy. Then, the random vamp I'd knocked out woke up and yanked on my hair, throwing me over his shoulder.

I tried to land on my feet but failed, tripping and stumbling backward. I landed on my back and scrambled to get up. As I did, I noticed the perfect white rose that Jack had given to me had fallen out of my hair. It lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Jack said it reminded him of me, of the way he saw me. Well, it wasn't innocent or perfect anymore. But neither was I, so I think it matched me better now.

The vamp rushed me and tackled me to the ground, pinning my arms to my sides as he snapped at me with his fangs out.

Bang... Bang!... CRASH!

The door burst open and light from the setting sun poured in, falling directly on the last vamp's face. He cried out and tried to scamper away, like a rat from a cat.

"It's about time! You guys are late to the party!" I shouted.

"Yeah, sorry!" Dean said from the doorway, "Who would've thought there were so many old sheds in this town!"

I didn't get a chance to reply.

I felt the air prickle and spark, charging with a tambour of power that I recognized but had yet to experience to this degree. I turned my head in time to see Jack, eyes glowing gold, passing by Dean with his hand outstretched. Golden waves of energy shot from his being with a sound like drumbeats from the depths of the sea. The waves caught the fleeing vampire and time around him slowed to a crawl. He was lifted into the air and revolved to face his reckoning. The Nephilim's lips tugged into a cruel grin as he saw the fear in the vampire's eyes.

Suddenly, the pulses of energy stopped and the vampire was flung towards Jack, landing face-first in the dirt at the boy angel's feet. Jack knelt down, his expression seeming to consider the trembling, pathetic thing in front of him.

"P-please!" The monster managed to choke out. "Mercy!"

Jack looked up at me, his eyes soaking in my bloodied face. Apparently, that was all it took. Jack's eyes hardened and he turned back to the vamp.

"You. Hurt. My. Friend."

Jack grabbed the vampire's head in his hands and started to squeeze. The vamp screamed as the pressure increased until his skull just couldn't take it anymore. There was a crunch and a wet sucking noise as the vamp's head collapsed in on itself. I liked that sound.

"That dude's still alive," I said, casually jabbing my thumb at the red-haired vamp I had paralyzed. Jack turned to where I had pointed, ready to squeeze another brain out of its shell.

"Jack!" Cas called from behind him. "No!"

The Nephilim scowled at Castiel and I admired the rage I saw in his eyes. This wasn't my Jack but I liked this version just as much. No, Jack wasn't human, was he? He was more like me than I'd thought. Jack snapped his fingers and the red-haired vamp crumbled into dust. The sight was actually sort of pretty.

When Jack turned to look at me his eyes were completely soft and full of concern. There was my Jack.

"Are you afraid of me now?" He asked in a whisper.

"No," I replied flatly, shrugging my shoulders, "Why would I be?"

"I killed them." Jack hung his head. "Right in front of you."

"Am I supposed to care?" I smirked, hoping my voice didn't sound as harsh as I thought it did. I was just barely beginning to come off my rage-induced high. Jack eyed me with confusion and relief.

"You're hurt," He observed, moving over to me.

"Me? Nah! This is nothing." I gestured at the bodies scattered around the shed. "You should see the other guys!"

"Stay still." Jack placed his soft, gentle, hands on my face to examine my injuries and I felt a warm tingling as he healed them. "There. I fixed you." He whispered. It was more to himself than anything but I still heard it. It made me laugh on the inside.

Yeah, no. Nothing could fix me. I was broken beyond repair. It was my insanity that held me together. Does that sound like the sort of thing that can be fixed?

"Thanks, Jack-Jack!" I chirped, smiling brightly at him.

"You're welcome, Marty," He said quietly. Jack's eyes flicked down, focusing on my lips like he wanted something but wasn't sure how to ask.

"Um, M-Marty?" Sam's voice broke whatever spell the two of us had been under and I glanced over to him.

"Yeah?"

"Did you, uh," Sam pointed to the carnage surrounding us, watching me with weary eyes. "Did you do this?"

I shrugged, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder at the tractor. "Yeah, mostly. But the tractor helped."

"I'm guessing the tractor did that?" Dean pointed to Boyd's head with its jaw still run through with the prongs of the rake. I walked calmly over to the severed head, grasping it by the hair and pulling it off the prongs before returning with it back to the boys. Sam, Dean, and Cas all stared at me with eyes as wide as quarters as held up the head.

"Dean, this is Boyd," I said, keeping my tone as sweet as possible.

"Huh."

"Say hi to Boyd."

"Uh...Hey, Boyd..."

"Good." I grinned as if I was holding a puppy instead of a severed head. "Now let me tell you about Boyd. Boyd liked touching things that didn't belong to him. He worked for Felix and Felix liked hearing little girls scream and cry. So did Boyd. Boyd was very good at making little girls scream and cry, little girls like me. Weren't you Boyd?" I asked the mutilated cranium in my hand. I moved the severed head up and down in an enthusiastic nod, holding it by the hair as if it was a marionet.

"You were very good, yes you were!" I cheered. Then, like the flip of coin, I snapped my focus back to the Winchesters, wiping my face and tone clean of all emotion.

"So, I used a tractor to rip his head off because he deserved it and now he won't ever make another little girl cry ever again. Right, Boyd?" I asked the severed head. I grabbed the head's bloody, splintered jaw and clacked it's teeth together like you would a ventriloquist dummy. "You bet your britches!" I made the head answer, mimicking Boyd's voice.

"D-did he-" Sam stuttered. I flicked my gaze back to him, allowing all three to see the harshness in my eyes.

"Whatever you're thinking, the answer is probably yes."

"Marty?"

I turned to Dean. "What?"

"Put the head down."

I dropped Boyd's severed head.

"Come here." The hunter opened his arms and I faked a sob before accepting the hug. "You weren't gonna tell us about that, were you?" I shook my head. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe now."

"Thank you for not throwing me away, Dean," I said softly. The elder Winchester chuckled.

"Don't thank me, Marty. After all, how could we throw away someone so Bad-Ass?"

"Am I awesome now?" I asked.

"You were always awesome."

I laughed and the Winchesters trusted me more than ever. Their mistake.

"Dean, that one's moving," Castiel called our attention over to Elwyn, who was just waking up.

Jack was quick to react, sending a golden blast of power to throw her against the wall where he kept her pinned.

"Wait! Wait!" She cried, "I didn' 'urt Mardina! I swear!"

"Do you work for Felix?" Dean interrogated, pushing me behind him.

"He's my fah'der but I'm not like him! I want du 'elp her! I jus a messenger!"

"Whaddia say, Sammy? Should we shoot the messenger?" Dean asked, keeping his cold eyes on Elwyn.

"No! Please!" Elwyn begged, tears slipping down her face. "I didn' 'urt her!"

"You know, if we shoot the messenger, Dean, it sends one Hell of a message." Like his brother, Sam could turn on the killer inside him like a switch.

"Felix is in Floree'ida, okay? Dat's all I know, I swear!" And it was all she knew because Elwyn had never had a backbone. There was no strength in her.

"Guess its up to you, Marty," Dean said, turning to me. Elwyn looked at me with wide pleading eyes. I regarded her with ice in my own. No second chances. Monsters don't get second chances, I know I never did. I knew I never would.

"I'm your friend, Mardina! Tell dem I'm your friend!" She pleaded. I shook my head.

"You only cared about me when Felix wasn't looking." I was almost shocked by how apathetic and passionless my voice sounded. I watched her without compassion. "You were never my friend."

"No!" Elwyn screeched, "No! I 'elped you! I 'elped you when dey beat you!"

"But you never tried to stop them."

"What?! No!" She sobbed. I smiled at her slightly.

"Go tell Madra I'm sorry."

I sent Jack a nod and with a snap of his fingers, Elwyn was nothing more than flecks of grey drifting to the ground.

Turning around with a sigh, I could feel the eyes of the four others as I bent down and scooped up the rose Jack had given me. I cradled the precious flower in my hands, watching as the blood dripped from its petals in big heavy gobs. It had been perfect once. It wasn't perfect anymore. It would never be perfect again. Or perhaps it could be, just not the right way. Because the blood was oddly beautiful with the way it stained the petals and pooled in the center of the rose.

"I can get you another one," Jack spoke up, "And I'll pay for it this time!"

I turned back to him, smiling down at my little rose.

"No, its okay, Jack. It's a crooked kind of perfect. I think I like it better now."

~All the pretty girls, they find

A way to keep you on my mind

I swear I heard you singing along

Cities pass like candy stores

And you're the one

I'm looking for

And so

I'm just a boy

Who's telling a girl

That when I grow up I'll buy you a rose

When I grow up, I'll buy you a rose~

Lyrics from: Buy You A Rose by AJR

(Author's Note: You may or may not have figured it out by now, but Martina Imogene Linville is insane. MARTY IS NOT THE HERO OF THIS STORY. SHE IS NOT A GOOD PERSON. Marty also had Borderline Personality Disorder before she went insane. So, even at her most stable points in this story, she is not to be trusted. Remember, she manipulates peoples emotions. She makes them feel what she wants them to feel. Any other character's actions may or may not actually be their own. Please keep this in mind going forward.)

16 notes · View notes

xxisxxisxxis · 5 years ago

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Eight

Table of Content or Part Forty-Seven

Wattpad

Word count: 5.6k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse, verbal abuse, explicit sexual situations, graphic mention of suicide

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"We can get your stuff up and drop it off later." Duff offers as I pull my shoes on and grab my car keys.

"Okay."

"Don't forget your purse." He adds, and I grab it from the coffee table.

"You alright going by yourself, Viv?" Steven asks me and I tuck a strand of wet hair behind my ear.

"Doc's meeting me there." I tell him.

"So, you don't know if he's okay?" He asks next and I exhale.

"No. I don't, and I really, really don't want to think of him not being okay so let's just not talk about it." I tell him, stepping to the door.

"Well, can you call us and let me know how he's holding up?" He follows me to the door and I nod.

"I will." I assure him, grabbing his hand in mine and squeezing it for a moment. "Thank you for letting me stay with you. I love you, I'll talk to you later." I say to him.

"Love you, too." He replies, smiling a little.

I leave to my car and head home as fast as I can.

I hate to be morbid, but every worst case scenario was flashing through my mind.

He had a plethora of all sorts of drugs throughout the house, plenty of sharp knives around, we had a pool, he kept a gun in our room...there was no shortage of suicide attempts or methods to use if he felt in the shock of Nona's death, that he couldn't go on.

And that's all I could focus on the entire way to the house.

I punch the code in the gate and as soon as I get in the driveway, I'm putting the Corvette in park, yanking the keys out, bursting out of the car and sprinting up the stairs to the front door, my shaking hands fumbling to unlock it.

The second I get the door open, it's pretty obvious Nikki hasn't kept the house up. At all.

Clothes are on the floor, empty cling wrap that obviously housed bindles of coke are scattered about, empty liquor bottles decorate almost every flat surface, empty syringes randomly placed throughout the living room and a bitter, familiar smell violates my nostrils from the kitchen.

I slowly make my way to our bedroom, looking around for Nikki.

His closet door is open, revealing a floor littered with needles, lumps of tar, pills and blow...and a crack pipe.

"Well, that's a new demon." I mumble, disappointed, before stepping to our bathroom.

I open the door, and sigh with relief at the sight of him in the bathtub, staring off.

I'm 99.9% sure he's stoned out of his mind.

"Nikki?" I ask him softly, getting on my knees beside the bathtub.

I notice a disgusting looking clumpy mixture is floating atop the water, and I realize it's vomit.

"Babe." I say more sternly this time, hoping to get a reaction. His dead, somber eyes shift to me. "C'mon, let's get out." I suggest, reaching into the water that's turned cold from him being in here for long.

"Just fuck off." He says to me, trying to stand up on him own, but he nearly falls out of the tub.

I just ignore him, helping him out, careful not to get the vomit that's clinging to his skin, on me.

"You need to rinse off in the shower." I suggest to him.

"Get me a shot of blow." He tells me slowly.

"I'm not getting you drugs." I reply calmly, moving his wet hair from his face as he holds himself up using the counter.

"Then what's the point of having you around?" He snaps.

"You're fucked up, covered in your own vomit. I don't think you're in any position to piss off your only help at the time you need it most." I tell him as politely as I can. "Please let me help you, Nikki. I think we've done enough damage to each other the past couple of months to last a life time."

He looks at me, a mixture of defeat and exhaustion cloaking his features.

He doesn't argue when I turn the shower on.

By the time he's rinsed off, the door bell's ringing, and I'm handing him a towel and going to the door to see Doc once I've got it open.

"Hey." He says. "How is he?"

"He just got out the shower. I'm gonna try to get him to go to bed. He looks like he hasn't slept in days." I explain.

"Alright." He nods. "I'll check back in later. Just call if you guys need anything."

"Thanks, Doc." I reply and he gives a sad look before going back to his car.

I go back the bathroom to see Nikki rinsing his mouth out with Jack.

I take the time to notice he's gained some weight back. I thought he'd lose more of it, especially since he's on crack now, apparently.

"Funeral's saturday." He says out of nowhere, and I bite my lip nervously, not saying a word. "My granddad gave me directions to get there but I forgot already."

Again, I don't say a word.

I don't have to. He can read my expression.

"I mean, that's why you're here, isn't it?" He asks, knowingly. "Pretty sad it takes the woman who raised me, dying, in order for my fucking wife to come home."

"You need to sleep." I ignore his comment, guilt reeling through me.

"And you just need to go back to your replacements for Mötley. I don't need you here." He argues.

"Pretty loud barking for someone who spent how many nights calling me, crying for me to come home?" I remind him as I cross my arms.

"I was fucked up." He states.

"Sober thoughts." I counter him.

"Vivian. I'm not fighting with you. Fuck off or shut up because I've got enough going on right now and I'm not wasting time on going back and forth with you." He steps past me to the bedroom and I follow after him.

"Of course not. You'd much rather waste time shooting up and free basing." I scoff, and I'm quickly dodging an empty bottle of whiskey as it collides with our bedroom wall right beside my head.

"Go to hell!" He screams at me, shaking, angry tears sprouting down his cheeks. "I can't even grieve in peace because you just refuse to let me do what I need to do! You aren't happy or satisfied unless I'm fucking miserable! I'm in hell right now and you come in and start shit just because you can, and you know exactly what fucking buttons to press to get under my skin and suck the life out of me like a fucking leech!"

"Drugs don't help anything, Nikki. It makes things worse. You just need to let yourself feel everything and power through it."

"When your aunt slit her fucking wrists you couldn't keep yourself off my dick for weeks! You fucking avoided talking about it and kept yourself distracted with me! In fact, while they were having her funeral and burying her, you were face down on my bed begging 'harder, Daddy', so I don't want to hear shit from you, of all people, about how I should cope!" He doesn't hold back, his shaking finger pointed at me viciously and I rub my lips together, tears toppling from my eyes.

Nikki's coping mechanism was drugs. Mine was sex. That's why, once our marriage got so bad off we couldn't even be in the same room, let alone touch each other, I went to Duff because I couldn't get my emotional and physical fix from Nikki anymore.

Messed up. Sad. But true.

"Okay." I say lowly, sniffling a little from crying. "I'm gonna go call Tom and get the directions. We can leave early Saturday morning." I mumble, leaving him alone as fast as I can without making it look obvious.

I shut the door behind me and head for the phone in the living room, dialing Tom's and Nona's number.

"Hello?"

"T-Tom, this is Viv." I start, my stomach in knots.

"Oh, hey...how're you doing?" He asks me and I rub my lips together.

"I could be better."

He let's out a barking laugh and I hear the pain in his voice as he says:

"I know exactly how you feel."

"Well, I was just calling to get directions to where the funeral is gonna be held. Nikki wasn't paying attention the first time you told him, I'm sure he was in shock."

"Well his aunt and I have called a lot the past couple months to try to tell him Nona was getting worse, but nobody answered the phone until today." He tells me and I let out a breath.

"We haven't been at home much." I reply, grabbing a pen and a envelope from the stack of bills on the coffee table. "What were those directions, again?"

He tells me and once I finish jotting them down, I'm struggling to find what to say.

"Thank you." I tell him. "And I'm really sorry."

"I'll be alright. You kids take care, I'll see you soon."

"We will, bye-bye."

"Bye-bye."

I hang up, letting out a breath as I fall back on the couch, feeling a migraine coming over me.

I close my eyes for a moment before opening them, taking in our house that is in shambles currently.

"How am I gonna have him presentable in three freaking days?" I ask God, fear that Nikki won't be put together in time, cracks into my mind before I avoid thinking about it by deciding to clean the house up.

It's while cleaning that I realize the redecorating Nikki's done while I've been gone.

Some of our furniture throughout the house has been replaced with what seem to be antique versions of it.

He's gotten black out curtains hung in every window, and there's even freaky looking gargoyles he's put up in some corners that look like demons leering in the house. They probably praise him each time he takes a shot of heroin or a hit of his pipe.

I ignore the new look of the place, once he's sober and out of this hole he's dug himself he'll want to be more uplifting and light and change the place back to how it was. But right now he's dark and gloomy, so of course where he resides is going to match that.

By the time I've finished cleaning the kitchen, dining area, living room, and our bedroom, he's coming out of hiding.

"I talked to your grandfather and got the directions." I tell him from my spot on the couch, watching TV, as I hear him open a bottle of wine in the kitchen.

He steps into the living room and sits on the other end of the couch, an entire bottle of white wine in hand, his eyes hazy, nothing but unlaced leather pants covering him up.

"I talked to Doc and he's booking us a flight for early Saturday morning, and late Saturday night so we can come back so you guys can start on the new album as soon as you can."

I glance over, seeing a new tattoo on him I completely overlooked earlier when I helped him out of the tub.

"When did you get that?" I ask, leaning forward on my knees to trace my finger along the sharp leafing of a rose stem on the right side of his chest.

He tenses a little when I touch him, his eyes glowering at me for a split second before averting back to the TV ahead of us.

I just swallow my pride.

"Nikki, I'm sorry I came in and started a fight. I know you need as much serenity you can get right now and I shouldn't have said all that stuff to you." I let out, getting it off my chest.

At first I think he doesn't hear me, until he's exhaling heavily.

"I said fucked up shit to you about your aunt." He tells me. "I shouldn't have brought that into an argument."

"We haven't seen each other for two months and I immediately started in on you, not to mention you're going through a lot and don't need me dogging on you. You had every right to say what you did." I assure him.

It's clear in his facial expression that he doesn't agree, but he doesn't try to argue anymore than we already have.

He gives me a little smile, a dopey smile, something I didn't know he'd be doing much of since the situation with Nona. Then again, he's numbed himself pretty heavily.

His ring filled fingers come up to push my hair back over my shoulder, and my heart sputters wildly in my chest as he slowly coaxes me closer to him, hand beginning to gently grasp at my hair to pull me to him.

His lips are soon brushing against mine as if testing the waters, before he presses a small, innocent kiss to my lips.

It's bizarre to think I haven't kissed him in two fucking months.

Apparently he feels the same, because the second our lips separate, he's going in for more.

I pull away a little, though and keep my hand on his chest as he looks at me, confused.

"I'm not sure if it's a good idea to do this right away." I tell him in a whisper, trying to keep myself at bay.

"Why not?" He asks in the same tone, his fingers leaving my hair so his finger tips can ghost over the skin down my neck, down my sides, catching at the bottom of my black tank top before sliding under the fabric to touch at my skin.

"Because we--" I stop talking, holding back a moan as his hand slides up my stomach and brushes over my breast.

"Because why?" He asks me, knowing what he's doing.

"Because we were just separated for a couple months and..." he grabs at my hips, pulling me onto straddle him before putting his bottle of wine down on the carpeted floor. "...a-and it's just not the best ide--ah!" A high pitched whimper escapes my throat as his teeth grasps at my nipple through the cloth of my tight fitted top, his tongue swirling around it before releasing.

He smirks at me, and I try to collect what's left of my composure.

Of course I want to fuck around. But I don't want to take advantage of him.

His hand slips between my legs next, rubbing back and forth a couple of times, causing me to squeeze my eyes closed as I can't help but to grind into his hand.

"Oh, shit." I swear under my breath, feeling slickness coat my panties with each movement against his hand.

My hands rest back on his knees, my head tilts back and I just grind against his fingers for as long as I can, electricity bubbling in my core.

Before long, I'm soaking through my shorts, causing him to chuckle a little.

"Stand up." He tells me and I do, keeping myself from rubbing my thighs together. "Take your clothes off." He says next.

I take in a breath, pulling my top of my head slowly, a wash of confidence hitting at me as his eyes stay glued to my tits, my nipples practically begging for his mouth.

My shorts are next, my hips swaying a little as I get them down my legs, and I nearly lick my lips at the sight of him with his legs slightly more spread, a toothy grin plastered on his face.

I don't touch my panties, crouching down and crawling to where he's sitting, the palms of my hands rubbing up his thighs before pawing at the bulge in his pants.

He just let's out a small hiss as I grab at him, before his hand is around my throat.

My eyes roll back, my legs shift to rub at myself and when I look back up at him he looks like he has an idea.

"Do you want it?" He asks me, still choking me enough to get me even more wet and I let out a needy sound.

"Please." I beg, that need to be filled starting to overwhelm me.

"Show me how bad you want it." He says, drinking some of his wine, letting my throat go.

I think I catch him off guard when I slide up his body to straddle his right thigh, moving my scanty making sure my clit is resting against the leather of his pants before I slowly start humping at him, riding him like I would his cock.

My soaked cunt makes it easy to move against him, a wet sound of me using him to fuck myself echoes in my ears.

"My dirty little bitch." He teases, his hand in his pants at this point.

"All your's." I say thickly, my hand meeting his at his prick, taking over as I start jerking him off the best I can while he's trapped in the skin tight confinement.

He tilts his head back, taking a deep breath as I work him while continuing to grind against his thick thigh that's proving useful as a fucktoy.

He's reaching in his pocket before long, pulling out his switch blade and sawing at the band of my thong, causing it to give way and pop off.

He greedily yanks it from me and tosses it away, his eyes taking in my pubic bone and spread, wet lips grinding against his leg.

"So fucking pretty." He says to me, bucking up into my hand, his hands going for my pussy to angle me where he can see my clit rubbing back and forth against him, leaving a trail of liquid in each go.

"Can I please ride it, baby, please?" I plead, the torture of feeling his thick, hard length and not being able to do anything about it is driving me insane.

He looks at me, fingers sliding between my legs, getting a coating of arousal on them before holding them up to me.

I wrap my lips around his digits, moaning at my taste, continuing to suck on his fingers like I'm giving them a blowjob, my eyes fluttering closed.

After a couple minutes, he's pulling his fingers from my mouth before getting me off of him so he can get his pants down.

I rest sitting on my knees, looking up at him as he gets himself freed, beads up precum dripping out of him, and I catch them with my tongue.

He gasps at the action, grinning as he grabs his bottle of wine.

I'm confused for a moment before he's pouring the alcohol onto my shoulder, causing it to spill down my back, my chest, and my legs, emptying the nearly full bottle, the warm wetness eliciting a giggle from me as he drops to his knees in front of me, pushing me onto my back.

His tongue licks up my pussy to my wine soaked stomach, biting at the rib he likes to bite at, before licking up my chest and neck, causing me to laugh and moan simultaneously, threading my fingers through his thick hair once his tongue intertwines with mine.

He grabs at himself, rubbing between my entrance and my clit before sliding just the head of his cock into me.

I arch my back, already preparing for the full feeling of him completely in me.

He pulls away from me, getting on his knees.

"Spread your legs." He says and I open them, spread eagle, giving him the perfect view of his goal.

He curses to himself under his breath, admiring me for a moment before grabbing my hips, lifting them up to meet him, and positioning himself at my cunt.

His eyes focus on my face as he slowly pushes into me to the hilt, pressing against my cervix.

"God I've missed this." He says, pulling out of me and pushing back in.

"I have, too." I breathe out, falling into rhythm with his demanding thrusts, my fingers pinching and rolling my nipples as he obliterates my swollen sex.

My juices drip down the both of us and joins the wine on the carpet, further turning me on along with the site of him looking down at himself going in and out of me while I lick my lips at the site of sweat beginning to appear on his chest.

One of my hands reaches up to play with my clit and he spits onto the bundle of nerves to further lubricate my fingers' movements, and I pull my lip into my mouth and arch my spine at the site.

He's leaning down in a moment to kiss me hotly, his tongue colliding with mine before I'm biting at his lip with my teeth, my nails clawing down his side before pushing him onto his back, climbing on top of him.

I'm licking the sweat off his chest as I sink down on to him, his hands holding at my hips while I move against him.

I slowly lift off of him, my breath catching in my throat as he moves his hips up as mine come down, burying him to the hilt.

His hands spread across my stomach to move up and down my sides, before grabbing at my ass, igniting hot flames through my skin.

My long hair is sticking to my body as the wine he poured over me is starting to mix with the sheen of sweat on my skin and getting sticky.

My thighs shake as our pace picks up because the need to reach the high over powers the need to savor the moment.

He's got my hips in a white-knuckle grip, thrusting up into me while pulling me down onto him in sync.

My moans, his grunts, and the sound of our sex fills the air as my toes curl, and I start tightening around him like a python.

"Good girl." He says, his hand smacking painfully onto my ass, knowing I'm about to finish and I arch my back and flex my hips, my tits bouncing with each powerful stroke he gives me.

I close my eyes as a whimper leaves my lips, a tear rolls down my cheek, and my muscles spasm around him as I orgasm, unable to even moan anymore as my body pumps itself full of dopamine.

I ride it out, as he slows down our pace, opening my eyes to see him staring up at me with half-open eyes, more than likely about to come, too.

"You're so fucking beautiful." He tells me, and I lean forward, kissing him for a moment before grinning down at him mischievously, purposely tightening around him, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock, as my hand reaches to massage his balls while I fuck him.

"Ah, fuck, Viv." He groans to himself, squeezing his eyes closed as pleasure washes over his face.

I feel his thighs shake little and bite my lip as his hands grope at my breasts with the same rhythm my hand gropes at him.

"You drive me f--shit--fucking crazy." He breathes out.

"I know." I reply sultrily, imagining his load emptying out into me and how good it will feel.

He tenses up and I cry out softly as he harshly pinches at my nipples.

"I gotta--ah!" He takes in a rough breath, screwing his eyes shut. "I gotta pullout so you won't get knocked up." He gets it out choppily.

"I won't." I assure him, selfishness pushing clear-thinking out of the picture.

"Viv--"

"--Nikki, please." I beg, my voice thick with need and lust and he shutters out another breath. "Tell me you don't want to and I'll get off of you."

I squeeze at his balls slightly harder, his fingers gripping at my thighs hard enough to leave bruises before we're both looking down between us to see his prick glistening in my cum.

"Tell me you don't want to fill me up and remind me whose I am." I keep my thrusts steady and a slew of swears swarm past his lips in a low tone, one of his hands moving to grip at his hair for a moment as if he's trying to get himself together.

My other hand moves to pull him to sit up and he wraps his arms around my waist, his body giving way to euphoria as he groans out, hot cum shooting into me.

My eyes roll back and close, missing the feeling of us like this as a satisfied mew slips out of my throat, Nikki's lips pressing across my chest bone, up my neck and finally to my lips.

My fingers get lost in his sweat soaked hair, my wet, sticky chest against his as we hold each other.

We both fall back onto the carpet before long, and I get off of him, curling up beside him and laying my cheek against his chest, focusing on his heartbeat because it's miraculous that he still has one.

His hand runs up and down my back, and with the mixture of a natural high, satisfaction, and--for the first time in a long time--peace, coursing through me, I'm lulled to sleep.

He wanted to pull out that night because he didn't want to pass anything to me, because he hadn't gotten a penicillin shot since screwing around on me.

Being that he had the control of a twelve-year old boy discovering porn for the first time, I don't know what the hell he would have come up with had I actually contracted something the random groupies he'd fucked in my absence, or Vanity, had accidentally given him.

I had no clue, but my high and optimism was blown a few minutes after we had our makeup session, anyway.

I open my eyes, seeing myself in the mirror on the ceiling of the living room, naked, Nikki nowhere to be seen.

I stretch, soreness spurring between my legs and I wince some, but smile at the fact Nikki and I are okay now.

Grabbing a throw from the back of the couch, I wrap it around me, stepping through the house to find Nikki.

Maybe he's in the shower.

Our bathroom's empty, and I furrow my brows, before hearing something moving around in our closet.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and open the door, seeing Nikki shaking with wide eyes, naked, holding his gun straight at me.

He was so fucked up. He'd get loaded on crack and think someone was out to get him, he'd scream and cry and wave his gun around, hallucinating people crawling under the front door, coming to kill him, or the cops coming to arrest him.

He'd flush his own drugs, every last one, out of paranoia of the FBI finding him. Then he'd come down from his high and be pissed at himself.

There were times he would actually shoot his fucking gun in the house.

I couldn't step foot in the living room for over a month because we had to get the mirrored tiling replaced and the ceiling patched because he shot all of the mirroring out.

I bet who ever had that house after us was still vacuuming shards of glass out of the carpet.

I shut the closet door back without a word, leaving him to himself to come down.

I lock myself in the guest bedroom and try to keep from crying.

I realized then that it didn't matter how good of a wife I was, how mind blowing the sex was, how much I worshipped the ground he walked on, how much I tried...it would never be enough.

Drugs were what he was truly in love with.

I guess Vanity and I both had that in common.

We were both, simply, the other woman.

Wednesday passed with Nikki too doped up to barely roll over in the closet floor on his own.

Thursday he had Jason come over, while I went to the grocery store, so he could get some more blow to counter the heroin symptoms and nodding off.

Friday he overdid it while freebasing and was convinced "Mexicans and midgets" were "after him" (a reoccurring theme, I would soon learn.)

And Saturday...

"Nikki, babe, c'mon. We're gonna miss our flight." I put in my second earring as he stands up from the couch, stumbling forward, and falling onto the carpet, spilling his drink all over himself. "Nikki!" I rush to his side to make sure he's okay, and he's not.

Despite being clear of physical ailments, his eyes tell it all. "Have you even slept?" I ask him, helping him sit up before sitting on my knees in front of him.

He doesn't answer and I sigh, closing my eyes.

"Do you just not want to go her funeral, Nikki?"

"I'm gonna be fucked up, I'm gonna have to face my family, my mother...and I'm gonna have to accept the fact she's dead." He admits bitterly, angry at himself for not pulling his shit together in time but also angry at the fact she's gone in the first place. "It isn't fair. You know how many people--disgusting people--deserve to be dead? I can name five or six just off the top of my head alone, Viv. But do those people die? No. The people who deserve to live the most, the people who love their lives and don't take it for granted are always the ones that get the fucking short end of the stick." His eyes get teary and I just listen. "I--" His voice cracks, his teeth baring together for a second as he regains himself. "I should be dead. Not her. Not Nona."

I try not to overreact, mustering up the words of comfort my dad use to tell me when someone in our family passed away.

"Nikki, who lives and dies isn't suppose to be in our hands. And it's not unless we just decide to end our lives prematurely." I start, taking his hand in the both of mine. "You can't think that way because the plan God has for you and the plan he had for her are two completely different things. And you're still alive because you aren't done with what he has for you, yet. Nona's work down here is finished. Your's isn't. So don't think this is all for nothing because I promise you, it's not."

He doesn't even sneer at the word "God" this time.

"If there even is a God the only thing he has planned for me is to send me straight to hell." He states coldly, his tears drying.

A sick feeling of nausea rises in my throat at his words and I force myself to calm down before calling Tom to tell him we won't make it.

We watched Gilligan's Island the remainder of the day, while Nikki shot coke when I'd get up to use the bathroom.

And then Saturday night came.

"Thank you." I say to Tansy as she helps me get the last of my stuff out of my car.

I just got back from meeting Duff at their rehearsal space to get the last few things I left at their apartment. "How was the meeting?" I ask her, pertaining to the very reason she had to fly back to New York.

She gets quiet for a second before faking a smile the best she can.

"They did some test shots and are sending them to the magazine for review and they'll let me know if I got the job." She tells me.

"They called you, did they not?"

"Yeah, they did, but since it's been over a year since I was last photographed, they wanna see what they're working with." She explains and I raise a brow, getting a bad feeling as we walk to the front door of my house.

"Tansy, you can know you can talk to any of us if something's not right, right?" I remind her and she nods.

"If something weren't right I'd tell you." She assures me. "I'm just going through some stuff. It doesn't have anything to do with work."

"Tansy--"

"--Viv, I'm okay." She states, looking at me with a weak smile. "Now, go get ready so we can go out with the guys, and bombard them with album ideas because 'Theater of Pain' was not what it needed to be and we're gonna help them avoid mistakes like that again." She sighs out as I open the front door, chuckling.

I step in to the living room, about to head to our bedroom to get ready, but I'm caught off guard by Sparkie talking to a woman I've seen before.

Then I recognize her in a split second.

The raven hair, the smooth, darker skin, perfectly proportioned features and contagious smile.

Her brown eyes catch on me, her face shifts into an oddly joyous expression and she's standing up to greet me.

"How are you?!" She asks me excitedly, knowing who I am because of that night on the balcony in Tansy's New York apartment.

Tansy's expression let's me know she wasnt expecting to see her here.

Which means...

"Nikki invited me out with you guys since he knew I was friends with Tansalyn and she was gonna be back in L.A." She states, probably reading my confused look.

"Nikki?" I ask, raising a brow.

She blinks at me, unsure of something before saying:

"Well, y-you remember me, don't you, we've met before? I'm Vanity."

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #the dirt #nikki sixx x oc #nikki sixx fanfiction #gateway drug

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yeols-baekhoes · 5 years ago

Text

Picnic With Kim Namjoon

Rated: F for fluff, DJ for daddy Joon

Picture this: A/U where Namjoon— who has been noticeably distant the last few days— has a surprise for you. A big one.

Graphics:

(baby)

****************•********************•*****************

"Hey, baby?" Came the soft, deep voice from the other side of the wooden door, a knock almost as soft as the man's voice following.

You remain quiet, not only because speaking up had proven to only make your already sore throat even worse, but because at that moment you were avoiding your significant other so that an argument wouldn't occur.

You had been sick for what felt like a century, but really was about a week and a half. Your throat felt like sandpaper, your head had been scalding the past week and your nose stuffed and runny. You knew you were getting better, though, when you woke up this morning sans the fever and runny nose. It felt heavenly after so long of not being able to breathe through your nose properly.

Even though you lived twenty minutes away, you had found yourself taking shelter in Joon's apartment as your parents had left for another work trip.

You usually enjoyed being in Namjoon's company. Ever since you met him almost a decade ago, his friendship had always been your source of comfort when your broken family proved to be otherwise.

It was only until four years back that you had both decided to act on the hidden feelings that had been bottled for years.

But recently, the past few weeks had been strange. Namjoon, always the busy bee, had been extremely distant. It was out of character for him. Yes, he was busy with his projects, but you always understood him. Understood the late nights, the days where he couldn't text you as frequently as he always did. He was chasing his dreams, working damn hard for them, at that. But, he always made sure to at least check in with you so you were aware he was okay. He would still sit with you, gently massaging your aching feet from work, even if it was for a couple of minutes before he ran off. There was always a few minutes of conversation where you would watch as his beautiful eyes lit up and his dimples deepened when he talked about his day or when he watched you speak about yours.

You weren't mad. You could never be mad at your Joon, not when he was finally getting to do everything he had talked about when you were both younger. The things he would smile about as you both sat on the low branch of the tree you both expertly climbed as children. What kind of girlfriend, what kind of best friend, would you be if you did get angry at that?

But your sickness had left you feeling like a child in need of comfort, and you couldn't help but feel upset about how visibly distant Namjoon had been. It was as if he was hiding something from you. It hurt that he wasn't fully trusting you.

When he noticed that you weren't going to respond, the door opened and Namjoon walked in. You looked up from your bag of clothes, looking up at your boyfriend.

"What Namjoon?" You ask, looking away. He knew what he was doing. Coming in here looking like he did, his lips slightly pursed so that his dimples would deepen. He was wearing a simple outfit, a black and white striped t-shirt, blue jeans, and his favorite pair of black high tops.

"I know you're mad at me, but there's no need for that or for you to be packing your clothes." He states. He hated when you called him by his full name when angry. He loved all the nicknames and pet names you had come up with.

You shrug, "I'm not mad at you and I'm taking these home to do laundry."

You hear him sigh and walk closer to you. You feel his arms snake around you, bringing you closer to his front. He knew you loved when he hugged you from behind. It made you smile faintly as his arms tightened around your belly.

"Don't be mad, honey." He whispers softly, his breath fanning across your neck as he brings his body down to reach your neck, where he places a soft kiss.

"You're going to get sick, Nam-" You start, trying to move out of his warm hold. You were annoyed with him, but that didn't mean you wanted him to catch whatever bug it was that you had. Of course he cuts you off, pulling you right back to him.

"I don't care." He turns you around in his arms, looking down at you.

"I do." You say, secretly enjoying how he held you.

He shrugs and chuckles, "Too bad. I want to hold my girlfriend."

You scrunch you're nose as you feel your argument crumble in your mind as he leaves a trail of soft kisses down your neck.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I know I have been distant the past few weeks. I've been dealing with some things and questioning others. I didn't realize until last night that I was distancing myself from you. That's something I never want to do. I'm sorry I made you feel like this." He says, as he looks up again, his big hands cradling your face.

You sigh looking at him. You knew he was sincere. That was something he never lacked. It was so clear in his dark eyes as he looked at you.

"It's okay, Joon. I just want you to remember that I'm here for you, okay? Just tell me whenever you're stressed out instead of pushing me away. That way I can at least try to help you and you won't be going through it alone." You respond, giving in. You touched his cheek softly, caressing the soft skin.

"I know. There's just something I've been thinking about. But I figured it out. So..." He trails off, kissing your cheek.

You giggle, "So?"

"Am I forgiven? Can we cuddle now without you wanting to slap me away?" He jokes, picking you up, his hands under your bottom.

You laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you to the bed, nuzzling into your neck the way he did after a long day. He gently places you down, coming down with you but stopping when he was a few inches away from your face. His strong arms were at each side of your face, caging you in.

"Hey there, gorgeous." He says sweetly, making you smile. His minty breath fanned across your upper lip as he looked down at them when the corners lifted.

"Hi, handsome." You whisper, looking at his full lips. Joon's smile was the first thing you had fallen in love with.

"I really want to kiss you right now." He whispers to you, his mouth centimeters away from yours. You close your eyes as you feel him nearing, his intoxicating cologne clouding your senses, one of his hands sweetly placed on your cheek.

You hum as his mouth goes to your collarbone, lightly biting at the skin before lightly running his tongue across it. "Namjoon, you're going to get sick." You mumble as a light moan escapes.

"I don't care." He states again. As his face nears, you close your eyes, reveling in the feeling of his full, soft lips on yours. Warmth spreads through your entire body as he deepens the kiss. His hand holds your chin as his lips continue to dance with yours. Every time Namjoon kissed you, it felt like the world was stopping around the both of you, but at the same time it felt as if everything was ablaze. The passion you both shared almost inconceivable.

You open your eyes as he pulls back, both your breathing shallow. He smiles and looks down at you, the love you both felt for each other clear in his eyes.

He pecks you once and then twice as his hands come up to tickle your sides. You let out a screaming laugh as his nimble fingers continue their attack on your sides.

"I hate you." You laugh as he chuckles at your discomfort.

"No you don't. You love me." He says, falling onto the space next to you.

You turn to rest your head on his hard chest, "Sometimes." You joke. He chuckles and brings you closer to place a kiss on your hair.

"I have a surprise for you tomorrow. I've been planning it on and off for the last few weeks." He says simply, kicking off his shoes. You get up partly, resting your head on your hands that were on top of his chest. You look down at him, his eyes closed, his face peaceful.

"What surprise?" You ask, tracing the lines of his face. Your lips still stung with the electrifying sweetness of your kiss.

He chuckles, the dimples you love appearing. "It's called a surprise for a reason. It comes from the Medieval Latin word 'superprehendere' or seize; Where it was then translated to the Old French word 'surprendre'."

You rolled your eyes and smiled down at him, he enjoyed sharing his encyclopedic knowledge with you. You loved when he did so. Your boyfriend was truly a man of endless knowledge. Learning came easy to him, he craved it.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

He shakes his head and pulls you back down to rest on his chest. His hand went to your hair, carefully running his hand through.

His steady heartbeat lulls you, and before you know it, both of you are fast asleep.

••

"Joon, can you at least tell me where we're going so I know how to dress." You tell Namjoon who was currently finishing his shower. You had woken up feeling so much better, the pain the sore throat had caused had lessened exponentially. You dared to say it had disappeared overnight.

You were sitting on the toilet with a towel wrapped around yourself, you had just finished showering and washing your hair.

"I'm not telling you what it is until we get there and you see for yourself." He answers. You could practically feel him smiling through the shower curtain. He was really enjoying this whole keeping it a surprise thing.

"Dress warmly, too. Its just us. Think of it as a casual day out." He adds.

You sigh but get up to get ready, nonetheless. You couldn't help but be excited, though. It had been a few weeks since both of you had a night out. Both of your work got in the way a lot of the times, but of course most days you both slept in the same bed. You didn't mind missing a few date nights, as long as you got to fall asleep in Namjoon's arms at night, got to hear his heartbeat as you slowly fall asleep.

You take a few minutes to get ready in where you pick out a big, fluffy, burgundy sweater and some dark ripped jeans. You finish it off with a pair of black boots. You lightly spray your wrists and neck with the perfume Joon got you as one of your Valentine's Day presents last year. He said it was his favorite scent and it reminded him of you when you were away from each other.

Namjoon comes in minutes after wearing a white woolen turtleneck, black jeans, and his favorite boots. It was a chilly day out, but it would only get chillier as it got later.

You blatantly stare at him as the same feeling you get when he kisses you starts at the pit of your stomach.

"You look so beautiful, baby." He beats you to it, coming to your side. He grabs your hand and makes you do a spin.

It didn't matter if all you had on was a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt with holes in it, or if your hair was all over the place after a night in bed with Joon. He always called you beautiful.

You laugh as he spins, "I was going to say the same thing about you. You clean up nicely, handsome." His hands rest low on your waist as he looks down at you, a bright smile on his lips.

"Stop it." He says bashfully. Even after so many years of knowing him, and four years of being in a relationship, Joon always blushed beet red when you complimented him.

"You're so cute." You giggle, lifting slightly on your toes to kiss his warm, blushing cheek. You had missed doing so.

"So, where are we going?" You say nonchalantly, kissing the exposed skin of his neck. Namjoon softly groans in your ears as you leave a trail of kisses up to his sharp jaw.

"You almost got me there. But good try. Like I said, I'm not telling you until we get there and you see for yourself." He answers, pulling slightly away.

You pout as your impromptu plan to get him to tell you where you were going, fails. He laughs and pecks your bottom lip.

"Don't pout, baby. Come on, I already put everything in the trunk of the car so you won't be able to see anything." He says, grabbing your purse from the ottoman at the foot of the bed and handing it to you.

"Okay, lets go." You say as you notice how excited he was. You decide to stop pestering him and just 'go with the flow' because you just loved that excitement in his eyes, the twinkle of it in his gaze.

You wait next to Namjoon as he locks up the apartment, holding your hand and leading you down the hall when he did so.

"I can't wait until we get there. I hope you like it." He says excitedly. You laugh admiringly at his excitement, "I'm sure whatever it is, I'll genuinely love." You tell him, slightly swinging your hands back and forth as you wait for the elevator to reach your floor.

"I hope so." He answers as he brings your hand up to kiss it.

When you are both seated in Namjoon's car a few minutes later, seatbelts buckled- he never started the car unless everyone had theirs on— is when Joon speaks.

"Road trip." He says, wiggling his eyebrows, looking at you as he turns on the radio and connects his phone to the Bluetooth. You look at him, feeling the excitement bubble in you. You finally were going to spend some needed time with him. No work to worry about, just the two of you.

You smile at him as he grabs your hand, placing it on his lap as he drove with the other.

Even though it was chilly out, the day was beautiful. All blue skies with a few scattered clouds. There was a comfortable silence in the car as a song played on the radio. It was something about your relationship you appreciated. That there could be absolute silence and neither of you felt the need to disrupt it because it was so peaceful and both of you were comfortable to just sit in each other's presence.

The thing about being Namjoon's girlfriend was that even in completely silence, he would unknowingly do little things to show he was attentive to you. The way he caressed your hand, the way he'd harmonize whatever you were disastrously singing along to, the way he'd look at you or lean over to kiss your cheek at a stop sign or light.

You sighed happily, softly rubbing your thumb on Namjoon's, feeling the chilly but soothing wind come in through the opened windows and playing with your hair, 'Frequency' by Jhené Aiko filling the car.

You went through her entire new album 'Chilombo', before you spoke up. "It's beautiful out here." You say. You had never traveled this way before, there was no need to. A while ago, wooden areas had covered both sides of the highway, deep rooted trees that had been there longer than you could imagine. All greens, oranges, and reds. But now, the woods had broken and you were driving in between green hills, a big orange and grey flat top rock in the distance.

"I knew you would like it. Me and the guys found this area a month ago. Remember when we went camping?" He asked, quickly looking at you.

You hum, remembering the very eventful camping trip the boys- Joon's best friends- and Joon had talked about for weeks after they had gotten home.

"Well, I told you we got kind of lost. But it was more like incredibly lost. You know how Yoongi and Hoseok get when they're together. Everyone was super distracted so we ended up around here and just decided to camp in the area." He explained, tapping his long fingers on the steering wheel as the car went around a bend.

Every time the boys were together, it was as if the world was ending and it was their last time together. Especially when they started their 'crackhead' behavior, as everyone whoever met them described. You had been with them for years so you had come to get used to their energy, even look forward to it.

You shake your head and laugh, imagining just how distracted they were with Yoongi, Hoseok, and Teahyung probably screaming the whole way, Jimin and Jungkook teasing each other, and Jin and Joon unintentionally acting like they were in a marriage and fathers to the rest of the group.

"We're almost there by the way." He says smiling. "It's just a little ways down."

You smile excitedly, looking around to see if you saw anything that would help you decipher where you were going. But you couldn't see anything but luscious hills and rocks and sky.

You wait until he starts slowing down the car, parking it on the side of the road in front of a hill with a pathway leading up into a wooded area.

"Oh, I see what's going on. You're going to kill me and dump my body." You say jokingly, unbuckling your seatbelt.

He looks at you, his face completely serious, "How did you know?" Your smile falters a bit before he laughs at the same time you do.

"Haha, good one." You say blandly, shoving his shoulder.

"Come on. I can't wait until you see this." He says, getting out and walking to the back of the car and opening the trunk. You follow behind.

"What are you getting out?" You ask, trying to look over his broad shoulders. You noticed him taking things out of a white cooler and into a brown picnic basket.

You realize what he was doing and stop, a warmness filling your chest. You remember a few months ago, you had been sitting in Joon's backyard watching a movie on the home made theatre Joon, the boys, and you had built days before with a white sheet and a projector, when you had expressed to him that you had never been to a picnic after he had asked you.

You couldn't imagine he had remembered something you thought had been an insignificant comment on your part.

"Oh, Joon. You remembered." You whisper.

He turns around and smiles, nodding down at you. You quickly close the space between the both of you, hugging him to your body. His warmth envelops you as he chuckles into your hair.

"Come on, I want you to see something." He says, grabbing hold of a thick blanket and putting it on top of the basket, the handles keeping it in place.

He grabs your hand and leads you to the path. It's a bit steep but you manage to both get up easily with each other's help. The area is slightly wooded and looks undisturbed except for the fresh feet prints on the path.

You walk for a few minutes, admiring the life around you. The blue sky peaks through the trees and birds call to each other, chase each other like lovers. You walk across a small bridge, a bustling stream under, splashing the wood of the bridge. You step over rocks and discarded tree limbs bigger than any you have ever seen. Then you came to a break in the trees. You couldn't see what was the through it, but you could see light and hear something that sounded very familiar. Like a big body of water crashing against rocks.

"Okay we're near, close your eyes and don't peek." He requested, taking back the blanket you had taken from him to help with the load.

You grin and close my eyes, opening one to see what he was doing. "No peeking." He quipped.

"Okay, okay. What if I fall?" You question, putting your left hand over your eyes as he take your right with his.

"I won't let you get hurt." He promises. Of course you knew that. Namjoon has kept you safe long before you even developed any romantic feelings for him. But it was fun to tease him a bit.

"Okay, there's a rock in front of you, just sidestep it. To your left." He informs you, slightly tugging you so you wouldn't trip.

"Good, baby." He says, a kiss landing on your cheek.

"Namjoon, I smell the sea." You say as soon as the salty smell of the ocean hits your nose. It was a smell you had loved since you were little. You loved the ocean, the sand. The feeling of being in another world altogether when you spent a day in the beach.

Your boyfriend hums beside you, "Do you now?"

You can almost taste the sea when Namjoon stops walking. "Okay. Wait, let me set everything up. Don't peek." He says before running off. You hear him stop a few yards away.

"Don't peek." He yells from his place. You laugh, "I promise I'm not peeking."

"I can't wait for you to see this. The guys and I discovered it and it reminded me of you." He says as you hear him shake the blanket.

"How did it remind you of me?" You ask genuinely, itching to remove your hand and open your eyes.

"You'll see." He answers a few seconds later, the rustling of plastic and containers being popped open reaching your ears.

"Okay, open them." You jump slightly as his voice comes from right next to you, closer than you thought he had been.

Namjoon grabs your hand as your eyes open and you blink away the blurriness. You gasp as you take on the view. You'd never seen something so beautiful in your entire life. It was almost as if your brain couldn't fully comprehend that what laid in front of you, was in fact real.

"It reminded me of how equally beautiful you are, if not more." He whispers your ear, placing a soft kiss there.

"Namjoon-I can't-" You stop speaking as your breath gets stuck in your throat. In front of you was the ocean at the bottom of a cliff. That was what you had heard crashing against rocks, what you had smelled. The blue sky met the water in the horizon, until you couldn't decipher which one was which. The sea was empty, no boat in sight. It looked peaceful. How was it that something that could be so destructive, also be so beautiful?

You were standing in a field just as alluring. It was full of tall flowers, little dandelions, lilies. It was a field of whites and golds and greens. You loved the way the weeds and wildflowers grew freely in the area. It truly seemed as if you were the only ones who had discovered it.

A few yards away, Joon had prepared and set the picnic. The white blanket with little black floral detailing was spread in the only flattened section of the field. It was surrounded by even more wildflowers. On top of the blanket was an assortment of food, two glass bottles of your favorite drink and two wine cups. There was a small radio playing a soft song that matched the ambience.

It felt like you were in another world. A world far away from civilization, where Namjoon and you were the only ones.

"You like it?" Namjoon's deep voice meets your ears.

You look at him, your eyes wide, your mouth agape. "Like it, Namjoon? I love it. Thank you." You look at him and smile, watching his dimples rise as he smiles back.

"Come on." He says, leading you to the blanket.

It felt like for the next few hours you could do nothing besides eat, smile, laugh, or jokingly shove Namjoon. You were happy. So happy that you had almost completely forgotten that a few days ago he had been distant. You reminded yourself to ask him about it.

Namjoon had taken a break from reading to you his new adventure, a book called The Amazons: Lives & Legends of Warrior Women Across the Ancient World by Adrienne Mayor, your head resting on his lap fully immersed in what he had been reading, when you decided to ask.

"Joon?" You say, playing with a loose thread in his jeans. "Yes, babygirl?" He answers, his eyes closed as his head faced the sky.

You smile at his pet name. You would never let anyone but the man above you call you such names. You loved when it came from him.

"Yesterday you said had been questioning some things and that's why you were distant. What have you been questioning?" You ask. You feel him tense under you. It makes you sit up. A plethora of scenarios going through your head. What if something was wrong with him? What if he was questioning your relationship?

"I've been meaning to talk about this with you for a long time. Don't look like that baby, it's nothing bad." He says pulling you to his side.

"Come on, let's go for a bit of a walk." He adds, getting up and holding his hand out to pull you up.

You take his warm hand and walk where he was leading you. Closer to the sea.

(A/N: Play the next song now and listen to it as you imagine yourself sitting in the cliff from the fifth picture with Namjoon, the sea under you, the sky full of the colors that come with the sunset)

You walked across the field and closer to the edge where you both sat down looking over at the view. It was truly stunning. The ocean lapped peacefully at the rocks under you. The sun had begun to set a few minutes ago so the sky was bleached a harmony of pinks, blues, and oranges. Behind you both, the radio had started to play Instagram by Dean. You felt truly at peace. You had the person you loved most in the world next to you, sharing this magical moment with you.

You look next to you, hoping to see Namjoon as transfixed with the scene as you were. But he seemed tense, frightened even.

"What's wrong, Joon?" You ask him, caressing his cheek.

"We've been together for so long. You know my heart belonged to you from the moment I came back from Korea five years ago. But it belonged to you way before that, even when we were friends. Do you remember how my mom would say we were meant to meet, that it was our destiny?" He asked, turning his whole body to look at you.

You nod, there was something in the air, something that was telling you not to speak, to listen.

The time when Joon went to Korea for three years was the moment you realized that you didn't see him just as a best friend, the feelings that had been locked inside you wanted to do nothing but kiss Namjoon, make him happy, spend your days with him. You realized that your heart had left with him. Had been ripped out of your chest the moment you saw that plane take off. The moment you realized that it wasn't a vacation, that he was really staying oversees, your feelings became clear then. You loved Namjoon. You were in love with him, with everything about him.

When they were in the airport, Namjoon's mother had seen how distraught you both were. She was a spiritual woman who believed in spirits, auras, etc. She had told you both that your destinies were intertwined, starting when you both met, tied together, for all eternity. For some time Namjoon and you thought it was just a mother trying to console her child and a girl she had seen grow up.

"She was right. I can feel it. I know you can, too. I can see it in the way you look at me, the way you care for me. I can see it in your selfless actions, the way you support my dreams even though sometimes you can't see me for days. I feel it in the way I can't imagine myself with someone that isn't you. I can't imagine ever ending what we have, waking up to someone who isn't you or even sharing my bed with someone besides you. I can't see myself laughing with anyone else while they cook breakfast, I can't see myself reading my books to someone else. I can't imagine myself making love to anyone else. I can't see myself growing old with someone who isn't you, love.

But that's the thing. It's not just that I can't. I won't. I won't love anyone else as much as I love you. I won't spend the rest of my life with someone who isn't you. This decision was easy for me to make, I knew as soon as it came to my head that I was going to ask you. But I was scared. Then I noticed my fears were making me do the opposite of what I wanted to do and grow distant from you. But I'm sure now. This is what I want. What I need." He finishes. Your eyes water at the sincerity and raw emotion in his voice.

You understood everything he said because you felt the same way. When you thought of the future, Namjoon was always by your side. It didn't matter how far into the future it was- five years, ten, or twenty years- he was always there at your side, smiling with those dimples that you would never give up seeing.

"What-?" You mutter, wanting to ask him what he meant by all of this, already having a clue, already feeling the excitement and pure love surround your heart, but he cuts you off.

"Marry me, love." He continues, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a little, black velvet box. "Spend the rest of your life with me."

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